#i love being sexy and unpredictable
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jiyascepter · 6 months ago
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Caught You | 18+ Only
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MASTERLIST
Pairing: Loki x F!reader
Words: 4012
Warnings/Content: SMUT; Avenger! Loki & Avenger! Y/n, Themes of dub-con, dark-ish Loki??, dom!Loki, pervy!Loki, possessive, jealous loki, use of loki's magic (in a lot of sexual stuff), restraints, bondage, biting, licking, aggressive, pissed loki, praise, slight degradation, there's a tattoo on y/n's thigh (for the plot!), other mcu characters also make an appearance, clit licking, fingering, overstimulation, p in v.
Please lmk if I missed anything! Loki is a bit of red-flaggy in this one, please keep in mind this is only a fanfiction.
Summary: When you make fun of Loki's magic, he "demonstrates" how his magic can be useful. In many, ehm..ways. What did you expect?
A/n: i moved the title in the corner so that i can keep seeing tommys's sexy face in the middle 😮‍💨 im trying to make my fics dirtier but it's not quite coming down in my works, like it's in my mind but it's not easy to express??? im trying & hopefully it'll come soon
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The cavernous, dimly-lit warehouse echoed with the sounds of clashing metal and grunts of exertion. The Avengers were locked in combat with a band of mercenaries armed with advanced weaponry.
Tony was in the air, repulsor beams lighting up the darkness, while Natasha and Clint worked in tandem, their movements precise and deadly. Thor’s hammer, Mjölnir, was a blur as it struck down the enemies with thunderous force.
In the midst of the chaos, Loki stood with an air of detached amusement, casting spells with flicks of his wrists. His magic sent mercenaries flying, created illusions to confuse their ranks, and conjured barriers to protect the teammates. But Loki's magic, powerful and unpredictable, was also a bit reckless tonight.
Maybe it was the leather suit you were wearing today.
"Loki, for the love of—watch where you're aiming!" You shouted as you narrowly avoided being hit by a stray spell meant for an enemy.
Your eyes flashed with annoyance as you shot him a glare. "Are you trying to get us all killed?"
Loki smirked, eyeing you up, not taking you seriously. "Perhaps if you were more attentive, you wouldn't find yourself in such precarious positions, darling."
You scowled and ducked under a swipe from a mercenary, retaliating with a swift punch that sent your opponent sprawling.
Ugh, you hated how he always carried that stupid smirk.
"Maybe if your magic was actually useful, we wouldn't be in precarious positions to begin with!"
Loki's eyes narrowed slightly, a spark of irritation flashing through his otherwise calm demeanor. "Is that so? I seem to recall saving you from a similar predicament just last week."
"By causing it in the first place!" You shot back, dodging another mercenary's attack and taking him down with a well-placed kick. 
Loki rolls his eyes and runs in the other direction. With a flick of his wrist, he conjured an illusion, making a group of mercenaries see each other as Avengers.
Confused, they turned on one another, giving the team a moment of respite. But the spell was too potent, and soon the illusion spread, affecting even the teammates. 
Chaos erupted as friends and foes became indistinguishable. 
"What the—" Tony exclaimed while flying over the scene. 
"Damn it, Loki!" You screamed, ducking, as Natasha took a swing at you, mistaking you for an enemy.
"Enough!" Thor bellowed, his hammer smashing into the ground to create a shockwave that knocked everyone off their feet and dispelled the illusion.
The mercenaries, now disoriented, were quickly subdued.
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The flight back home was quiet. Everyone was either tired, tending to their wounds, or just rethinking what happened back there. 
Once you landed, the rest of the Avengers stepped down the Quinjet and walked into the building to their rooms. 
"Loki, wait." Steve calls out and walks towards Loki in the lobby.
“About today—”
“Nobody died, Rogers.” Loki replies. 
"That is not an achievement," You murmur to yourself loudly on purpose for him to hear while taking a sip from your favourite grey-coloured sipper. 
Loki and Steve both glanced at you, with Steve carrying a hint of a smile on his face while Loki scowled and turned back to Steve.
You could tell he was not impressed. 
A win for you.
Steve clears his throat, turning serious once more. "Look, what happened today was not good. We cannot work as a team if we don't know half of your tricks."
Loki grins. "Well, that's the fun, isn't it? A surprise for everyone.”
Steve raises his eyebrows. "But it isn’t helping, Lo-"
"Helping? His magic is useless half the time."
Loki shoots an eye at you when you say that, and you could tell the God wasn't pleased.
"He's showing off in front of everyone, like the arrogant ass he is." You go on, while Loki watches you with his grave, sharp eyes.
Why wasn't he replying with his usual snarky comments today? 
Steve gives a light chuckle and pats Loki's shoulder as if feeling sorry for him, "Be careful next time, that's all I ask," and walks away through the corridor, leaving you and Loki to yourselves.
While waiting for the elevator, you silently stand in front of the doors, waiting for it to arrive.
Until you feel a hard pressure against your back.
The sensation is unmistakable—a solid, unyielding presence, warm and firm. Loki's chest. His closeness sends an involuntary shiver down your spine. You can feel the steady rise and fall of his breath and subtle heat radiating through his clothes.
You stiffen, unsure whether to move away or stay still, the elevator's arrival feeling like an eternity away.
You decide to say something to break the uncomfortable silence.
"Ego broken, Loki~?" You say his name in a sing-song voice.
"Do you enjoy testing my patience, mortal?" he says, leaning down to your ear.
"Someone has to keep you in check," you reply, your voice steady despite the proximity.
The elevator reaches your floor, and with a little chime, its doors open. You proceed to take a step forward to enter the elevator when his hand grabs hold of the back side of your neck and pulls you back to him.
"Careful," he almost whispers, his breath ghosting over your skin, "your tongue is going to get you in trouble one day."
You pause for a moment, feeling the tension thicken in the air, before you turn your head out of his hands to look at him. "Oh, I'm sorry, did I hurt the big bad trickster's feelings?" You taunt, your voice dripping with sarcasm.
"Maybe if your magic wasn't so unreliable, we wouldn't be in these messes. Or do you need Daddy Odin to give you some pointers on how to actually be useful?"
Loki's eyes flare with fury, and in no time he grabs your neck once again and strides into the elevator, pinning your head to the panels. His body pressed against yours with a force that left little room for doubt about his intensity.
His frame, tall and lean yet undeniably strong, exerting a commanding presence as he pins you against the cool metal of the elevator wall. You can feel the heat emanating from his body, a stark contrast to the chill of the metal against your cheek. 
He was so close to you, you could smell his sultry, intoxicating smell on him.
"You think my magic is useless, don’t you..." He whispers, his breath ghosting on your skin. "I’ll make sure you regret saying that."
"I don't "think", it's a fact." You try to push him back with your elbow. “Let me go, Loki.” You say it firmly. 
"Not yet, vixen." He says so, and the elevator doors shut by themselves. And with one flick of his fingers, the front chain of your tight leather suit yanked open down to the end of your belly.
Did he just–
"I’ll make sure to demonstrate how useful my magic can be." He says and looks down to notice you were not even wearing a bra underneath.
He grins at the sight, licking his lower lip. "Naughty girl." He coos in your ear while his fingers work their way to your belly. 
His fingers, though possessing a hint of coldness at first, quickly warmed against your skin as they made contact with your belly. Each touch sent a jolt of electricity through you, igniting a fire that danced just beneath the surface. 
"Let. Me. Go." You say, trying to stand your ground, but your attempts are futile. 
"Told you no, darling." He says while his fingers trailed up to your nipples, sending a shiver down your spine as goosebumps rose in their wake.
It was a sensation that left you feeling exposed and vulnerable, yet strangely exhilarated by the raw intensity of his touch. 
He slides down your suit from your shoulders, proceeding with a graze of his tongue on your skin. 
"Mmm…sweet," he murmurs, sucking on your shoulder, "unlike those words you use."
"FUCK. YOU." You reply with a gruff.
Loki chuckles darkly against your skin, his breath hot and tantalizing. "Oh, darling, you will," he murmurs, his voice dripping with seductive menace. "But not before I teach you to respect a God."
He pulls down your suit lower, his lips kissing the back of your neck, followed by melty little kisses down your bareback. Despite your discontent, you couldn’t help but feel turned on by him.
As Loki pushes down your suit to your thighs, his eyes catch sight of a small tattoo etched on the inside of your thigh. The ink reads the name of your ex-boyfriend. Loki's eyes darken with a mix of curiosity and possessiveness. 
He paused, his brows furrowing as he read the name inked there. "Well, well, well," he murmured, his voice a mix of curiosity and disdain. "So that’s what your little skirt was hinting at the meeting a few days ago..."
He traced the tattoo lightly with his finger, sending a shiver through your body.
So this bastard was always watching you?
You grit your teeth, anger and embarrassment flushing through you. "It’s none of your business, Loki."
He tightens his grip on your neck slightly—not enough to hurt, but enough to assert his dominance. "I know."
"But this mark... it irks me. An insignificant mortal claiming a part of you." He pinches your thigh, and you try to jerk away your leg but cannot. 
You squirmed against his grip, but he held you firmly, his eyes dark and intense as they bore into yours. "Let it go, Loki," you demanded, trying to maintain your composure.
He leaned closer, his lips brushing against the tattoo. "Why should I?" he whispered, his voice a dangerous purr. "Why should I let some forgotten lover's mark go unchallenged?"
He gives you a rather harsh bite on your shoulder, trailing his lips to kiss your neck, which makes you whimper, which makes him grin.
He pulls away a bit, and with the flick of his wrists, an invisible force pins your arms above your head, securing you in place against the elevator wall. You struggle briefly, but the bonds hold firm. Loki steps back, his eyes raking over your exposed form with a predatory gaze.
Before you could retort, he bent down, turning his body against the elevator and facing you from below. He kissed the tattoo with deliberate slowness, his lips soft and maddeningly sensual.
The act was both possessive and teasing, with his tongue swirling repeatedly on the same spot that was making you crazy. You gasped, the sensation overwhelming, and a part of you hated how your body responded to his touch. 
"Shh, people can still hear us, darling. Even if they cannot enter." He says placing pecks up and down your thigh, evaporating your steady facade away.
"Now, let's see what other secrets you're hiding," he murmurs, his hands sliding down to your hips. He hooks his fingers under the waistband of your panties, slowly pulling them down and exposing you completely.
You saw his eyes almost sparkle at the sight, placing a kiss on your mound, making you flinch against the metal. Where and when did your suit disappear? You didn’t know.
He leans close and starts exploring your already wet clit with his tongue. Holding your waist in his hands, he kept stealing glances up at your aroused form, watching your expressions while you gasped every time his warm tongue darted on your needy pussy.
The god had a talent for his tongue. The silver tongue. 
"Are you still with him?" He murmured, pulling away his face from your pussy, making you let out a complaining whine.
He holds up his two fingers to caress your folds. "Answer."
"N-no…" You answer, your voice quivering in pleasure.
"Then why isn’t it off?" He says this, glancing at your tattoo.
"I never…Loki-"
He pushes two fingers in. "You never what?"
You shudder as Loki's fingers push inside you, his question hanging in the air, demanding an answer. Your mind races, caught between the intense pleasure and the need to explain yourself.
"I never... had the chance," you manage to gasp, your voice barely steady. "It didn't mean anything anymore. I just...fuck-forgot about it."
Loki's eyes narrow slightly as he studies your face, his fingers moving slowly inside you, curling and stroking in a way that makes coherent thoughts nearly impossible. He doesn't seem entirely convinced.
"Forgot about it?" he repeats, his voice low and dangerous. "Or perhaps you wanted a reminder of something you couldn't let go?" 
"No…" You moan, writhing against the panel with your hands above your head, your fingers aching to dive into his hair. 
He starts to pump his fingers in and out of you with a deliberate rhythm, his thumb circling your clit with maddening precision. You squirm, your faint moans echoing the elevator.
"Good," he murmurs, his voice a seductive purr. "Because I don't share, darling. And I don't like to be reminded of what once was."
You moan, your body arching against his touch. His words send a thrill through you, and the possessiveness in his tone both intimidating and exhilarating.
"You know I can just turn you into a pretty mannequin for me so I can do whatever I want with you…but I want to feel you squirm... to mewl... like a little prey." He says watching your face while feeling your pussy start to clench around his fingers.
"Now, let's make sure you never forget who you belong to, hm?" Loki whispers, his lips brushing against your thigh as he speaks. His mouth returns to your clit, his tongue flicking and sucking with a relentless intensity that drives you wild. 
"Yeah, that’s right, just keep on making those little sounds for me." He says it with a satisfied smile curling on his lips, and he resumes his ministrations with renewed fervor. 
The combination of his fingers inside you and his mouth on your clit sends you spiralling into a mind-shattering orgasm, your body convulsing with pleasure as you cry out his name.
As the waves of ecstasy subside, Loki slowly withdraws his fingers. He stands, his eyes locking onto yours. He releases your binds away and turns you to him, and his thumb caresses your lower lip as if studying it for a second before he holds you against the wall, cupping your cheek, and kisses you almost fiercely. 
And gosh, you needed that. You needed that and more.
"Y/n, is that you?"
Both of you freeze to your seats when you hear Thor’s voice outside the elevator. 
Loki's eyes narrow in annoyance, and he quickly glances towards the elevator doors. "Shh," he murmurs against your lips, his voice barely a whisper. "We wouldn't want to get caught now, would we?"
He continues exploring your mouth, and the kisses start spreading to your neck, tongue, and teeth, making their wild appearances every once in a while. 
Until you couldn’t help it and let out a moan.
"This door is not openi- Y/n??" Thor repeats again. "Wait, let me call Stark.-" 
Your heart races when Thor calls out again because of your moan. Loki’s eyes narrow, and he pulls away. "Are you doing this on purpose? Just another one of your games so we can get caught and you can have your fun?"
He gives your pussy a little slap, and you whine a no. 
In a swift motion, he wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you tightly against him. You barely have time to register the shift before the air around you shimmers and the familiar confines of the elevator vanish, replaced by the opulent and dimly lit interior of a room unknown to you.
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The room is a stark contrast to the sterile metal of the elevator. Rich tapestries line the walls, and candles flicker, casting a warm, golden glow. A large, ornate bed dominates the space, its dark, luxurious linens inviting in a way that makes your heart race. 
Loki wastes no time. He sweeps you off your feet, carrying you to the bed with an urgency that sends a thrill through you. He lays you down gently, his gaze intense as he takes in your still-naked form. His hands trace over your skin, as if committing every inch to memory. 
The air is thick with the scent of sandalwood and something uniquely Loki—intoxicating and alluring. "Now, where were we?" He purrs, his fingers tracing a delicate line down your spine, sending shivers through your body.
You can barely catch your breath; the intensity of the moment overwhelming. "Loki, what if Thor—"
"Thor won't find us," Loki interrupts, his voice a low growl. "This is my domain. No one enters without my permission."
"Now," he whispers, his lips brushing against your ear, "let us continue our little magic demonstration." 
The silken sheets cool against your heated skin, and with Loki's hands everywhere—caressing, teasing, exploring every inch of your body—his touch both gentle and demanding, leaving you breathless and craving more. 
"So beautiful," his voice dripping with seductive menace as he conjures a binding spell that secures your wrists to the bedposts. 
You gasp, your body arching against the restraints, as Loki's mouth finds your breasts, his tongue swirling around your nipples with maddening precision. The sensations are overwhelming, and your mind is lost in a haze of pleasure and need. 
Loki's mouth moves with deliberate precision, his tongue tracing intricate patterns over your breasts. Each flick of his tongue sends jolts of pleasure through your body, making you arch and writhe against the silken sheets. The restraints on your wrists keep you firmly in place.
"Loki…"
"Mhm," he hums, enjoying your squirms. But he wanted more.
He uses his powers to amplify his touch, making your nerve endings sing with heightened sensitivity. You gasp and moan, the intensity of his magic overwhelming your senses.
You can feel the magic pulsating through you, heightening your awareness of every touch and every kiss. His lips move from your breasts to the sensitive skin just below, his tongue flicking out to taste you. The combination of his mouth and his magic almost too much to bear.
His free hand trails down your body, leaving a path of fire in its wake. As his fingers reach your inner thighs, you feel a new surge of his magic, more potent and concentrated. It wraps around your thighs, making your muscles quiver with anticipation.
Loki conjures small, delicate tendrils of magic that wrap around your nipples, gently tugging and twisting. The sensation is unlike anything you've ever felt before—a perfect blend of pleasure and pain that leaves you gasping for breath. 
He moves lower, his mouth leaving a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses down your belly. The tendrils of magic follow his path, amplifying every sensation, making you feel as if your skin is on fire. You can barely think or breathe; your mind consumed by the overwhelming pleasure.
As he reaches your hips, his fingers part your folds, and you feel a rush of cool air against your wetness. His mouth hovers just above your clit, his breath hot and tantalizing. 
"Tell me, darling," Loki whispers, his lips brushing against your most sensitive spot, "how does it feel to be at the mercy of a god?"
Before you can answer, his tongue flicks out, teasing your clit with delicate, precise strokes. His magic enhances every touch, making you moan and writhe against the restraints. You can feel your orgasm building, the pleasure coiling tight in your belly. 
"Loki I-" He sees your upcoming orgasm and pulls away quickly, enjoying your needy, complaining moan for him.
"Not so easy, darling."
And with another display of his magic, he completely gets rid of his clothes, his disrobed body turning you on even more, the heat of need between your legs almost unbearable.
He brings his already-hard cock near your lips. "Kiss it." and you do, the light hum of satisfaction he makes making you want to absolutely suck him out rather than just a little kiss.
"My filthy little vixen," he says, eyes blazing with hunger as he positions himself between your legs. His grip tightens on your hips, holding you in place as he teases your entrance with the tip of his cock, the sensation sending shivers of anticipation through you, "get ready for your god."
He lets out a low growl, a dark and seductive sound, before slowly pushing into you, his length stretching and filling you completely. The feeling is exquisite, with every inch of him sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body.
"You feel so perfect," Loki murmurs, his voice husky with desire. "Every part of you was made just for me."
He begins to move, slow and deliberate, his thrusts deep and controlled. Each motion designed to draw out the maximum pleasure to make you feel every inch of him. The binding spell keeps your wrists secured to the bedposts, preventing you from reaching out to touch him, to claw at his back as the pleasure intensifies.
Loki's eyes never leave yours, the connection between you palpable and electric. He leans down, capturing your lips in a searing kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth with the same intensity as his thrusts. You respond eagerly, your moans muffled against his lips, your body arching to meet his. 
His magic continues to amplify every sensation, making your skin hypersensitive, every touch sends sparks of pleasure through you. The tendrils of magic around your nipples tighten and twist, adding to the overwhelming pleasure coursing through your body.
"Loki," you gasp, barely able to form coherent words. "I can't... it's too much..."
He smirks, his eyes dark with lust. "You can take it, darling. You will take it. You will take everything I give you."
His pace quickens, and his thrusts become more urgent and more demanding. The bed creaks beneath you, the sound mingling with your moans and the wet, slick sounds of your bodies moving together. The pleasure builds rapidly, creating a coiling heat in your belly that threatens to consume you entirely.
Loki's hand moves between your bodies, his thumb finding your clit and rubbing in tight, precise circles. The additional stimulation pushes you closer to the edge, your body trembling with the effort to hold back your impending orgasm.
"Come for me, darling," Loki commands, his voice a low, seductive growl. "Come for your god."
His words are your undoing. With a cry, you shatter, the orgasm ripping through you with an intensity that leaves you breathless and shaking. The pleasure is overwhelming, your vision going white as wave after wave of ecstasy crashes over you.
Loki continues to thrust through your orgasm, prolonging your pleasure, his own release imminent. His movements become erratic, his grip on your hips tightening as he chases his own climax.
You can feel him throbbing inside you, his breaths coming in ragged gasps as he finally lets go, his own orgasm ripping through him.
With a final, powerful thrust, he spills into you, his groan of pleasure vibrating through your body. He collapses on top of you, his weight comforting and grounding as you both catch your breath, the aftershocks of pleasure still coursing through you.
For a moment, there's only the sound of your ragged breathing, the scent of sex and sweat heavy in the air. Loki's hand comes up to gently cup your cheek, his thumb brushing away a stray tear of overwhelming pleasure. 
"Fuck, you drive me wild." He murmurs breathlessly. 
"Did you like that, darling?" Loki murmurs against your skin, his voice a seductive purr. "My magic can do so much more." 
You breathlessly chuckle while he traces patterns on your skin. His fingers caress down to your thigh, where he glances at your tattoo.
"We can’t have that." He says in a low voice and grazes his hand over your skin, and the tattoo vanishes.  Loki’s touch lingers on your thigh where the tattoo once was, his magic leaving your skin smooth and unmarked.
"And now you’re mine."
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┈➤ Taglist in the comments! Lmk if you want to join or just click this 𖹭
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katiascraft · 19 days ago
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"This is how you fall in love" | OP81
parings: Oscar Piastri x Reader.
Summary: Oscar is truly, madly, deeply in love with you.
Now playing: "this is how you fall in love" by Jeremy Zucker & Chelsea Cutler.
Word count: +1,2k
Warnings: I think none just pure fluff. Not a native English speaker so there could be (so many errors). I do what I can. Not proofread.
Authors note: hey I don’t even know if this is good - I really hope it is - but I needed to write about Oscar SO BAD. (Btw is Yale in New York? Forgot to look it up). Update: I changed it. Yale it’s no even near to NYC 🤣 I’m a mess. Don’t forget to comment, like or reblog! And follow me so we can be friends :3 (and drink mate together!)
MASTERLIST
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It was a sunny morning in Monaco. The quiet of the city could still be appreciated. You were asleep on the bed you shared with Oscar. It was your first night here since you haven’t seen each for the last time about 1 month or maybe almost 2. Time is a difficult thing to be aware of with his schedule to be honest.
Both of you had really busy lifestyles yet managed to build this relationship. Mostly it was a long distance relationship. He was traveling and working the whole year. And you were a student at Ivy Columbia University in New York City. As students it was difficult to find a gap between your exam and classes that fitted the races. You tried your best to always be there for him. Even if it was through the phone after the race. And for him that was really considerate.
You didn’t even have time to breathe when it was exams season yet you still find time to call and check on him. He knows it’s an obvious thing you’re supposed to do with people you love. But still he really appreciates it.
He was so happy and grateful you were finally together. Because you don’t see each other that often - every moment you spend together it’s so intense and pure magic. You do everything you could think of before saying goodbye again and part ways. It was the hardest part of your relationship. You said goodbye to each other so many times it anxiety breaking. He just never could get enough from you, from being with you. He has never felt this way about anyone and the fact that it’s been 4 years of being side by side it was crazy to him. How he would never get bored of you. You were always so intriguing, unpredictable, witty. You were the opposite when it came to what others could see. But behind close doors in your little magical and full of love world - you two matched each other's crazy perfectly.
Oscar is an introvert and really shy when it comes to interactions with people, always feeling nervous and so polite. You were always loud and could talk even with a wall if you wanted to. Always the life of the party so extroverted. You were the opposite but the same in a way. You would get so shy around him giggling like the teenager you were since you two met. And he could be the best at flirting and teasing around you. You made him feel so comfortable in his own skin and he just got loose and relaxed. Could be the real him with you. And just for you.
In your little beautiful world you wouldn’t stop talking about everything and anything. Joking around and teasing each other just to end up having sex in the living room. The chemistry between you two was unmatched. Behind your four walls he was the most confident man and you were as well. Bringing the best of each other out. Just for the other one. You were sexy, fierce, not afraid of anything. He made you feel even powerful.the way he always uplift you when you needed him the most and the fact that you could be so vulnerable knowing he won’t judge. He never did. He knew the real you and embraced it. His love changed you so much. He is the best thing that ever happened to you. And you were his. Oscar with you was kind of another person. It was him of course but intensified. Open and free. You gave him that space, that safety. And he adored you so much for that. Being himself it’s something he struggles with most of the time. Shying away. But with you by his side he could be the life of the party too.
He loved watching you study so concentrated. He would join you in silence, maybe by reading a book, or preparing your favorite tea in moral support. Or he would just sit in silence admiring you. How the sun would reflect on you and how it could make you shine even more. How perfect you’d look. And how that could make his heart race high speed. He would feel so lucky to have you. The comfort he felt was so big. He would want the time to stop right there and live stuck there forever. With you. Also, he loved the way you showed him so much love. He loved your homemade cakes and pies. You were so good with pastry. It was your inside joke. Because you were so good with him as well. He sometime would join you and try to help just to fail miserably and start a flour fight. The kitchen ended up in a mess but you were giggling and enjoying yourselves. Everything was worth it.
He really loved sharing activities together. Whether it was a paddle match against George and Carmen or Maria Kart battles with Lando. Also you loved hiking together and discovering new places around Monaco where you could escape reality and plan picnic dates. He loved that you got along so well with his friends and family. Since day one it felt natural. Everyone was welcoming of you. He was so nervous about it. But it was perfect because for him you were.
He heard you coming down the stairs just in time for the breakfast he had prepared for you both. You appeared with your hair in a mess and sleepy eyes. His tshirt on and your boxers of lighting mcqueen. You looked so adorable. Squishy. he smiled widely at you. And you returned the smile hugging him tightly.
“Good morning sleeping beauty” he said sweetly, grabbing you in his arms and kissing your temple. He heard you giggle.
“Good morning my Prince Charming. How grateful I am to wake up next to you for the rest of my life” you said teasingly and romantically looking at him. He giggled blushing. A soft pink tone now on his cheeks. You always had that effect on him.
“and how grateful I am to have you in my arms every morning for the rest of my days” he said just like you making you giggle to then plant a soft kiss on your lips. “I love you,” he said, pulling away gently.
“Me too my love” you said softly.
You two took all of the things he had prepared with so much love to the table by the pool. The morning was beautiful and warm. Perfect. He put all of your favorite fruits and prepared your favorite cappuccino as well. He is always on the details. He remembered everything about you. You didn't have to ask - he already knew. He was perfect. Perfectly imperfect. There was no other man like him. You were sure about it. And you felt really lucky he even looked at you. These past few years were everything and more of what you could ever have dreamed as a kid. You always wanted to have your special someone - but you never thought you would find him.
You had your breakfast talking about what you were gonna do for the day.
Maybe this is what it really feels to fall in love.
Peaceful. Comfortable in silence. Not overthinking. Just being you and feeling loved. Feeling seen. Feeling celebrated. Cared for. Being chosen. The one. The bestest of friends. Your shoulder to cry on. Laughing until crying. Hugs and more hugs. Plasire. Deep talk. Vulnerability. Partnership. Support. Admiration. Trust and communication.
Giving a part of you to someone else to carry everywhere they went trusting they will never break it.
Maybe this is how you fall in love.
How you two fell in love every single day.
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Hope you liked it 💌 if you have any ideas my inbox is open so send your requests!
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awkward-walking-potato · 4 months ago
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Can I request headcanons for Remy, Logan, and Wade would think about his female s/o walking in on him instead please?
Remy LeBeau (Gambit)
Remy is used to being smooth and in control, but when you accidentally walk in on him changing, you catch him off guard—though only for a moment. He’s shirtless, mid-way through pulling on a fresh pair of pants, and when he sees you, his signature smirk immediately appears. He’s not shy about his body, so he quickly recovers and turns on the charm.
“Cher, if you wanted a private show, all you had to do was ask,” he teases, his voice dripping with that Cajun accent that never fails to make your heart flutter. He’d probably even strike a pose or flex just a bit to make you blush. He loves how flustered you get, and he’d be all too happy to take full advantage of the situation, maybe even pulling you closer for a playful kiss. To Remy, this is just another opportunity to flirt and remind you of the undeniable chemistry between you two.
Logan (Wolverine)
Logan is all about privacy, and he’s not the kind of guy who’s comfortable with vulnerability. When you accidentally walk in on him changing, he’s immediately tense, freezing mid-motion with his shirt half-off or his jeans unbuttoned. He’s got scars all over his body, reminders of his long and brutal past, and he’s not exactly eager to show them off. He’d grunt something like, “Darlin’, a little privacy would be nice,” his voice gruff but not unkind.
You’d see the flicker of embarrassment in his eyes, which is rare for someone as tough as Logan, but it’s there. If you stay in the room, he might turn his back to you, finishing getting dressed quickly. He wouldn’t make a big deal out of it, but you might catch a glimpse of his softer side when he looks at you afterward, a little sheepish. Deep down, he wouldn’t mind the fact that you saw him—especially if he knows you accept every part of him, scars and all.
Wade Wilson (Deadpool)
Wade would be the most unpredictable and chaotic in this situation. The moment you walk in on him changing, all bets are off. He’s likely to make a huge, dramatic scene out of it, gasping loudly and covering himself up with whatever’s closest—be it a shirt, pants, or even a stuffed unicorn he just happens to have lying around.
“Whoa, babe, you can’t handle this level of sexy without proper warning!” he’d exclaim, completely hamming it up. He’d probably start posing like he’s in some sort of superhero pin-up calendar, making you laugh whether you want to or not. Wade has no shame, and he loves making you smile, so he’d turn the situation into a joke faster than you can blink.
But underneath all the humor, there might be a flash of insecurity, especially if you see some of his scars or his appearance without the mask. He’d cover it up with jokes, of course, but if you look at him with nothing but love in your eyes, it would mean the world to him. Wade might even drop the act for a second, giving you a soft, genuine smile before going right back to his antics.
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melancholyhigh · 1 year ago
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pls more dbf! Leon I can’t get enough of this man omfhhdhd
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who has the choice like smarty does?
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ft. dbf!leon x fem!reader
synopsis. you decide to bake a cake for your dad which leads to leon telling you what his favourite flavour is.
content. 1.8k words. fluff, smut. age gap, domesticity, baking, oral (f receiving), dirty talk, protected p in v, kitchen sex.
note. i hope you guys enjoy this one. i just want to be old man leon's pretty wife <33
masterlist. part one. part two. part three. i love feedback & requests :))
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Since your dad left for his mission, you often found yourself in Leon’s apartment, bringing you a sense of solace which you lacked. 
The past few days, waking up to him felt like a dream. Your eyes flutter open, only to be met with tired eyes and a sweet smile. 
It’s a crime to look that good in the morning, you thought.
Leon had thought it’d be nice to let you stay at his place for a while. He was constantly at your home, and it would’ve been a nice change of pace. He tried to disguise it as him being concerned for your anxieties about your father’s health and not a means to see you around more often in his apartment. 
In all honesty, his apartment initially did not look used. It looked similar to when he first moved in, and nothing had changed that much. Since staying with him, his miserable apartment (and life) felt alive. 
“Good morning, Lee,” you mumbled drowsily, snuggling into his bare chest, your arms enclosing his waist. 
“Good mornin’, sweetheart.” Damn, his morning voice was sexy.
He presses a kiss to the top of your head. Recently, most mornings consist of the both of you lying on his bed in each other's arms, eyes shut, putting off the day’s responsibilities.
The moment is cut short by the ring of your phone, and you groan loudly. The tune of your phone’s ringtone still plays as you contemplate answering it. 
You did not want to deal with your friends right now. After finding out about Leon after he accidentally answered the phone while giving it to you, they relentlessly teased you for it.
Leon stretches his arm out to the bedside table to retrieve your phone. 
“It’s your dad,” Leon mentions, and you quickly sit upright, taking the phone from his hold and answering it.  
You observe as Leon kisses your cheek before leaving his room, giving you the privacy to talk with your dad. 
“Hey, sleepyhead, doing alright?” Your dad greets you, his words breaking up due to the poor connection.
“I’m fine, Dad. Are you okay? Your mission took longer than normal,” you asked, voice shaky.
You wanted to burst into tears. Your dad said it was supposed to be a regular mission, but it lasted almost two weeks. Usually, it takes about a week, and he calls you halfway through even though it’s not allowed. 
You hear a rustling noise, then a deep sigh, “there was a mix-up. I did more work than planned, but I’m fine now, not badly injured or anything– just tired.”
You let out a breath of relief. “When will you get back home?”
“Uhh… tomorrow for sure. I’ve got to get some results back, and then I’m free as a bird. Everything good with you, though, hun? Leon’s been treating ya good?”
“Leon? Yeah! He’s the sweetest. I'm glad you met him.” There’s a smile on your lips as you answer his question. You were honest with every word you said. Leon had become your recent source of comfort.
“That’s good. Leon’s a great guy. I wouldn’t know what to do if you didn’t like him,” your dad jested. You hear a voice in the background call out your dad’s name. 
“Oh shit– Bye, honey. See ya tomorrow.”
“Bye, Dad,” you respond before hanging up.
Stumbling out of bed, the conversation with your father makes you question a few things as you head to the kitchen.
How would your dad react to your not-so-platonic relationship with Leon? Your dad did enjoy Leon’s presence. After all, Leon was his best bud, but would he approve of your relationship? Your father was always calm — albeit a bit unpredictable at times — so you don’t think he’d be infuriated. Not to mention Leon highly respected him and his craft. 
I mean, he said it himself, Leon is a great guy. He’s undoubtedly caring towards you.
Leon spots you as you enter the room. He can’t help but think you look so cute in the morning, wearing nothing but his oversized black t-shirt and plain white panties, which seems to be your go-to outfit lately. You’re wiping the sleep out of your eyes as you make your way over to him. 
“G’morning, baby. Is your dad okay?” Leon asks, handing you a mug of coffee prepared how you like it. 
“Mhm, he’s fine. Old man doesn’t know when to take a break,” you replied, taking a sip from the mug. “He’s gonna back by tomorrow, by the way.” 
Leon exhales, “That’s great. I was worried. Your dad is usually quick when it comes to his work. I guess his old age is finally catching up to him.”
–-
You decided to be the sweetest daughter in the world and bake a cake for your father’s inconvenience. Usually, you’re at classes when he’s on his work trips, unable to welcome him the way you used to when you were younger. 
You learnt at a way too young of age about your father’s job, remembering as a kid waiting for him to come home. That often left you to think of ways to surprise him when he gets back, which leads to you and your aunt baking a cake using premade cake mix. 
This time it’s special because it’ll be a homemade cake! 
You were shocked that Leon even had the ingredients in his pantry to make one.
The cake was in the oven as you prepared some icing you stole from someone’s cooking blog. Your dad was a simple man with a simple taste opting for a classic vanilla because chocolate was too sweet for him.
“Hey, Lee, what’s your favourite cake flavour? Maybe I can make it for you sometime .” You pondered aloud. 
Leon glances at you from his sudoku puzzle on his morning papers. You looked enticing in his apron, a cheesy quote plastered on the front, covered in flour — similar to the shirt he was wearing now.
It had him thinking. Coming home from work to his sweet girl baking him his favourite treat would be enough to make a grown man blush. Maybe it’d be the other way around, you coming home from classes or work as he prepares your favourite meal for you to unwind. 
Either way, it had his cock throbbing within the confinements of his pants. 
He gets up from the dining table, walking to your area at the kitchen counter. He looms behind you as he wraps his strong arms under your (his) graphic tee, resting his chin on your shoulder, the stubble on his face tickling your neck. His touch makes the hair on your skin rise.
“You’re my favourite flavour, sweetheart.” God, he was fucking cheesy. 
He’s sloppily kissing the fading marks along your shoulder blade, and you immediately stop what you’re doing, swallowing deeply at his actions.
“Leon..” you gasp softly. His nose presses up to the column of your throat.
“Let me eat you out, pretty girl,” he pleads. His hands are now gripping your hips when you turn around to face him. Leon kisses your lips softly, tilting his head as he groans into the kiss. You loved how vocal he gets with you. Each sound he made makes your cunt pulse with want. 
His palms are under your thighs as he helps you onto the cool marble countertops. Pulling away from your lips, he spreads your thighs apart. The cloth of the apron and shirt bunches up, revealing your pretty panties, soaked through. Leon moans at the sight. 
Gripping your thighs in his strong hands, he leans down, kissing the hickeys trailing up your thigh before his tongue pushes up against your pussy, the fabric of your panties rubbing against your clit.
You whimper as he laps at your drenched panties. You use your palms as support on the counter behind you, subtly rutting your hips to his mouth. 
“Fuck,” you gasp when he pulls your panties off and tosses them to the side. Your ass is halfway off the counter as he draws you near his face, admiring your cunt leaking with your arousal.
“You’re so pretty,” he mumbles, spreading your lips apart and kissing the sensitive bud, sending electricity through your body. You don’t know whether you find it endearing or obnoxious as he talks to your pussy. He’s such a dork. 
His tongue flattens against your cunt, intently lapping at you as you breathe heavily. You taste so fucking good, he thinks. Nose bumping your clit as he ravages your poor cunt.
His tongue delves into your hole, moving in and out. One of your hands moves to his dark locks tugging on it, a silent plead. He whines into your pussy, reverberating throughout your body, leaving you needy.
Leon palms his cock through his pants. He’s unbelievably hard as his lips move to your clit, sucking on the bud roughly, adoring each sound that falls from your lips, letting out his own groans and moans into your cunt. He could do this for hours. 
“‘M cumming, Leon,” you cry, your thighs clamping around his head as you climax. 
If you suffocated him to death, at least he died doing the thing he loved. 
Lifting from your thighs, he licks his lips, peering at you. His hair is dishevelled as he runs his hand through it attempting to fix it. 
He nudges his bulge to your dripping cunt. He got so hard from just eating you out. 
Your hands rush to help him rid himself of his pants and briefs. He moves to get a condom from his pocket, swiftly ripping the packaging and slipping it on his aching cock.
He runs the head along your folds, nudging it against your abused clit. You wrap your arms around Leon’s shoulders, moving your lips against his as he slowly pushes his cock into you. Your gummy walls clench around him while you whimper softly into the kiss. He fills you up perfectly with his thick length.
Your legs encircle his taut waist as he thrusts slowly into your pussy. The tip of his cock curving perfectly, hitting the spot that makes you dizzy. Leon picks up his pace, and the rhythm of his hips ends up sloppy. 
“Fuck, your pussy’s squeezing me tight, pretty girl,” he huffs, messily fucking you. You grip this bicep for support, nails digging into the flesh. 
“Wanted to fuck you here since the first time you walked into my place.” He groans, his calloused palm squeezing your tits through your shirt and apron. “Planned to fuck you on every surface.”
“Leon…” you whine, your cunt spasming around his fat cock as he repeatedly grinds into you.
“That’s it, baby. Cum f’me.”
He spills into the condom with a loud groan. Your head falls into the crook of his neck as you try to even out your breathing, and you think you wouldn’t mind spending the rest of your life with him.
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succulentsiren · 2 months ago
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🐆Ways to Feel like a Dark Goddess🖤🩸
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I. Embrace your ‘Black cat energy’ — Adopt or start acting like a Cat (beware when adopting that you’ll become their slave lol) but you’ll learn a how to carry their Royal (DGAF) energy, just from being around them.
II. Listen to sultry, slowed music. Find the song that represents you, listen to it slowed and play it whenever you want to feel sexy or confident. (The song is more impactful when it has a strong bass or an addictive melody).
III. Wear Black. The color black represents supreme authority and power. Black also pulls and absorbs all energy towards it. So when you wear it, it’ll allow you to absorb the energy around you and feel more powerful.
IV. Learn your Dark Feminine Archetype. Are you the Siren? Are you the Lilith? Are you the Gold digger? Or are you the Witch?
V. Don’t chase, Attract. Never beg people to be in your life. Never beg people to support you. Never force friendships or relationships. Be your authentic self and your connections will form effortlessly.
VI. Stay unbothered. It’s a fact that, you age faster when you’re stressed and overextending yourself, so be stoic and poised and observe more than you react.
VII. Wear your favorite lingerie.
VIII. Try Dark Feminine makeup looks. {Here’s my Pinterest board on DFM looks}
IX. Learn a new skill. Knowledge raises your value and protects you from making dumb decisions.
X. Have a Confident Presence. Never enter any room with you head down. Learn the importance of confident body language and teach yourself the basics.
XI. Be assertive. Add some spice [bite] to your language and character. Let people know your not a wilting flower in any way.
XII. Be unpredictable. When people think they know your next move, switch that shit up and surprise them.
XIII. Practice your Siren Gaze. The eyes are a tool of hypnotism. You can communicate through them, influence through them and seduce with them.
XIV. Worship yourself like a Goddess. When you recognize your value, you raise yourself up to Goddess-hood and others will begin to see your value as well.
XV. Spoil yourself. Don’t wait for anyone to make you feel sexy, self activate it. Buy yourself roses 🥀 Take a romantic baths with flower petals. Tell yourself “You’re sexy.” in the mirror. Write yourself love letters.
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prettypinkporkchop · 3 months ago
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I need a Paul x nerd reader in my life I think there dynamic would be so cute
I fucking love the jock x nerd trope (i know Paul's not a jock but close enough)
How it began:
You're peacefully reading your book at the public library behind a shelf. You hear two loud guys behind you out of the book aisle. You think to yourself how you're thankful for graduating school! You close the book and step out toward the checkout to buy it. You're stopped dead in your tracks.
Paul Lahote and his friend, Embry Call. Embry is being quiet and looking around for something. You gasp and hide behind the shelf. Paul Lahote. He bullied you for the longest time. When he left high school to join Sam's cult, you were already graduating. He's a year younger than you, but he was mister popular. You were just a book worm with straight A's. You've never even been in a relationship.
Embry has always been respectful. You've always questioned why he associates with him. But getting that quick view of their new hair made you extra nervous. You know Embry won't acknowledge you. Paul might even though you guys are grown now. You don't know! He's always unpredictable and hotheaded.
You take a deep breath and lower your head, quickly making your way to the check out desk. Before you reach it, you feel a tap on your shoulder. You swiftly turn and meet Paul. He's smiling his taunting smile, but it quickly fades. He seems lost in thought. Embry is standing next to him and grabs his arm. "Paul." He whispers. Paul snaps out of it and then looks down. "Hey, y/n. Good to see you." Then he walks away.
You can't help but wonder what the fuck that was about. Embry turns to you with a look of "yikes". "Sorry about that, y/n. Uhm, good to see you! Gotta blast." He gives you the peace out sign and walks away. Oh, Embry. What a dork! Oh, wait...
Now:
"Babe! Come play with us!" Paul calls out. He's holding the soccer ball in his hand. You look up from your book and push up your glasses. You can see some of the guys in the water. The other imprints decided to go shopping. It wasn't really your thing, so you stayed with Paul.
"No, sweetie. You know I'm no good at that stuff." You laugh. He groans and tosses the ball to Jared. They start playing again. But Paul stops and runs over to you, playing on your back, tackling you, and holding you down. You laugh loudly as he begins to tickle you. You toss the book and completely lose your place. "Paul!" You yell and then reach for the book. "It's got sand in it, and you made me lose my place." You sigh. He grabs your face and kisses you hard. You kiss back and hold his face, too, rubbing your thumbs on his cheek.
"Think fast!" You hear Quil running to you two. You pull away and see the ball coming right toward you. Paul reacts quickly, catching it with one hand. "Bro, really?" He glares at him.
You guys get home, and Paul is watching football on TV. You're sitting on your phone, looking at Pinterest crafting ideas. Easy ones that'll keep you out of bordemn in your free time. "YOO!" He yells and laughs. He points at the screen and looks at you. "Did you see that horrible defense?! Hell no." He turns back and laughs. You just smile and nod your head, not understanding a thing he said. He turns back to you and grabs your thigh. "Right, my nerd." He leans in and peppers kisses all over your face. You lay back and pull him on top of you. He holds himself up, looking down at you. "When you are focusing on reading or anything else, really, you're so cute. When you tutor Brady and Collin for math, I love it." He smiles. You blush and wrap your arms around his neck. "Thank you, sexy." You giggle and pull him down for a kiss. His lips land on yours for a moment, and he pulls away, looking down at you. "Do you want to play video games together? How about Madden? It's not real football. I'm sure you'll like it!" He sits up and turns on his Playstation. You suck in a breath. "Last time you made me play a sports game, I nearly fell asleep." You giggle. He laughs and then goes through his downloads. He skips animal crossing SOOOO fast. "Hey!" You call out. "Nope. Nope. I'll settle for Minecraft, but that's all you get." He shakes his head. "How about we meet in the middle? GTA?" You grab the other controller that's on the coffee table. He smirks and turns to you. "I pick the music when we steal a bus."
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torikuna · 2 months ago
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𝗺𝗼𝗱𝗲𝗿𝗻!𝗦𝘂𝗸𝘂𝗻𝗮 𝗮𝘀 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗯𝗼𝘆𝗳𝗿𝗶𝗲𝗻𝗱
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warnings: mdni, profanity, angst but also fluff lil bit lol, petname (doll), modern!sukuna x fem!reader (he’s around 25-26 yo, reader in early 20s)
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your first meeting wasn’t very nice, but memorable. you were in a hurry to run errands, but suddenly you crashed into someone’s back and fell to the ground. you looked up and see a tall man in front of you, looking at you with cold crimson eyes over his shoulder, his hands in his pockets. in response to your apology, he called you a “pathetic, stupid bitch”
after that, you crossed paths a couple of times and somehow found a common language at Sukuna’s initiative. he probably said that you’re a “debtor” now because he forgave you lol
your relationship progressed slowly because it took Sukuna some time to understand and acknowledge his feelings
ofc he won't do that. you’re close to him because “i’m still not tired of you” (his words)
he is a harsh, rude, manipulative, immoral, selfish narcissist
but these qualities partially disappear in him when it comes to you
he always walks around with a frown, cold and emotionless expression on his face, but inside he’ll worry about you
tsundere. ᐢ ̥_ ̫ _ ̥ᐢ…
is something bothering you? he’ll try to comfort you by stroking your head or holding you in his lap with his arms tightly around your waist. but he won’t be able to find the right words, so he’ll just solve all your problems himself
but sometimes he can say something like “brat, calm down, your tears are annoying me.” and leaves you alone
he’s very unpredictable and you’ll have to get used to it.
more about his caring side. he should always be aware of your well-being. are you feeling sick? tell him. are you hurt? tell him. he’ll do anything to make you feel better ᡴꪫ‎
he’s doing this not because he loves you, but because “don’t die, brat, i’ve a grandiose plans on you”
he likes it when your attention is completely focused on him, so he likes to spend time with you
usually you spend dates in restaurants. “get ready, i’ll pick you up at 8pm” and he’ll ask you to wear your sexiest dress so he can show you off
what if someone bothers you? "i’ll destroy the whole world for you." he’ll kill anyone who disrespects you. does this bother you? no, you love it.
actually, i don’t think he’s very jealous and argues with you about this, rather he has boundaries of what is permitted
his eyes are always on you, anywhere, so this “pathetic fucking trash” (men) doesn’t go beyond these boundaries
“did i give permission to touch her?” /he killed him/ㅠㅠ
when he's in a bad mood he'll just take you in that sexy dress to show everyone who you belong to
he’ll fuck you all night, leaving marks on your skin while you beg him to forgive you. your hands are pinned to the bed above your head etc
“you sorry? heh, five minutes ago you didn’t look like you were sorry”, “you’re only mine.. sigh that guy can’t fuck you the way i do. only i can touch you”, “i know you like it.. sigh you needy, dirty doll, just cum for me”
he’s possessive.
the next day it’ll hurt to walk ଘ(|lI.‸.)
he resolves other conflicts with you diplomatically, but sometimes he can be quite rude and impulsive
but this rarely happens, because after this he feels guilty. yes, he knows what guilt is, but he’ll never apologize :)
in general he rarely snaps at you, mostly his attitude is special, he treats you like a princess
while he hates everyone around, you can calmly come up to him at any time and hug him and he won’t mind
and also he protects you from curses, men and rude ppl around you
btw, when at night he pulls you closer to him, hugging you tightly while your head lies on his chest and you feel his heavy and even breathing, it’s not because he likes it, but because you need to be protected (that’s what he calls it)
people around you don't understand how you can date him, he can kill you at any moment. everyone is afraid of him
but not you.
he’s secretly grateful to you for your attitude towards him. you were never afraid of him, you always treated him with understanding and kindness
you’re the one who will show him what love is, you’ll teach him this. it’s “i don't believe in love” and “i’ll show you what love can be” trope <з
he himself doesn’t know what attracted him to you, but he knows for sure that you’re the only person who evokes a storm of emotions in him, making his heart beat uncomfortably fast, awakening feelings unfamiliar to him
and he finds it interesting. he finds you interesting.
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sierrale8ne · 2 months ago
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40 DAYS AND 40 NIGHTS — MASTERLIST &. PLAYLIST
preface series infographic.
chapter one maraye is wildly talented and paige finds herself in nothing short of a trance.
chapter two just maraye being a courtside baddie, which means paige goes off. she wants that cookie real bad!
chapter three the dinner party is memorable, but maraye finds herself mentally fighting over something else: julian.
chapter four maraye faces some mental challenges about her sexuality, while handling the recent struggles her and julian’s relationship.
chapter five after a week of radio silence, paige and maraye share a much needed night together, only confirming that they are both in really deep.
chapter six in this game of cat and mouse, paige and maraye cross the line, and there is no going back.
chapter seven paige and maraye are left dealing with the consequences of their actions, and the overwhelming evidence against them.
chapter eight “just friends” they said, “it won’t happen again” they said.
chapter nine they’re on the verge of getting caught up, maybe a break is needed.
chapter ten paige knows what she wants, and it looks like maraye does too. it’s only a matter of time.
chapter eleven maybe paige doesn’t know what she wants, because she’s making a big mistake.
PLAYLIST !
40 days and 40 nights mariah the scientist ft. vory i’ll, give you your distance if you already made a commitment to be someone else’s; i must respect it.
fuck daisies payton knowing we’ve been here too long, made a mess, won’t see it through.
sos (sex on sight) victoria monet ft. usher i am way too sexy, to be alone. wanna show you what type, of time that im on.
unpredictable destin conrad ft. kiana ledé miss the feeling of a new memory. miss the feeling of waking up to something unpredictable.
different pages mariah the scientist you, aren’t the n**** that i thought you were. just a boy, will address you as such. and a boy could never be enough.
you don’t know me summer walker don’t get me wrong, i know it’s a lot. long flights, long nights, fast cars, it never stops.
8 [remix] kehlani ft. flo wouldn’t be me if i ain’t get a little nasty. lick me, rub me, kiss me, touch me, don’t put it past me.
love me not ravyn lenae it’s hard to leave you when i get you everywhere. all this time i’m thinking we can never be a pair.
ruined me muni long i won’t pretend i was perfect, like i don’t deserve some of this hurt i’ve been hurting.
the worst jhené aiko and though i don’t need you, i don’t need you, i don’t need you, i don’t need you: i still want you.
simple coco jones ft. babyface why is it so complicated? maybe cause that’s how God made it. he’s got his ways, but you’ve got yours too.
ur best friend kiana ledé ft. kehlani might’ve got too excited i’ll admit, almost called your name when he was in it.
taglist!!
kalena speakss 🪽! i just imbedded the playlist into this post bc i’m lazy lol. i hope this gives y’all a better look into the maraye’s sound as well as the overall feeling for this story!
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uzurimisery · 1 year ago
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chapter 1: the setting. / coriolanus snow / nsfw
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Watching TBOSAS rekindled my love of this series and Tom Blyth makes young Snow sexy.
wc: 4,422
waring: smut, misogyny, dubcon, toxic relationships, snow is insane, not beta read
AO3 version here | Series Master
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“You’re to take Y/N to the gala and after that the two of you will begin a show of courting for the Capitol to watch.”
Coriolanus Snow found you to be a thorn in his side. An unknown variable. You were wellbred stock, perfect for carrying on a bloodline, but somehow you were as disgraced as those from the Districts. Even before the war had started and ended Coriolanus found you insufferable. Too aggressive, undisciplined, and unpredictable. He liked reading people, at this point he’d say he could read others better than they could read themselves. But you were a blank slate. Wellbred, well read, and well insufferable. The only reason he even pretended to care about you was who your mother was. 
Dr. Volumnia Gaul was more of a creator than a mother. Mothers cared and nurtured their children with love and compassion, two emotions Gaul was incapable of. Funny considering she was once an obstetrician. It was there that she had been introduced to your father, another prominent Capitol resident, and had you. She liked you, surely, often willing to give you more grace than others for their mistakes, but love would be going too far. Perhaps her being your mother is why Coriolanus liked you even less, you had all of her traits he disliked the most. 
The Snow family had always been led by men, a tradition passed down from father to son, an unbroken chain of masculine dominance. But the Gauls were different. They were led by women, strong, capable women who defied the traditional power dynamics. And you were no exception.
You were determined to prove yourself, to carve your own path, to become a leader just like your mother. You fought Coriolanus head-on, challenging his every suggestion, even when you knew your opposition was futile. You were a master of manipulation, using coercion, leadership, and cunning to bend others to your will. Even Coriolanus, the shrewd and calculating Snow, found himself falling prey to your machinations at times.
You had convinced two of the most desirable women in the Capitol, Persephone Price and Iphigenia Moss, that he was in love with them both. For a tense month and a half, they waged a bitter war for his affections, making his life a living hell right after he had returned from District 12. It was as if you simply enjoyed watching the chaos you created, relishing in the discomfort you inflicted upon him.
Coriolanus couldn't deny his grudging admiration for your skill. You were a force to be reckoned with, a whirlwind of ambition and cunning.You were a puzzle he couldn't quite solve, a challenge he couldn't quite overcome. And that unsettled him.
"Dr. Gaul," he began, his voice laced with scepticism, "I hardly think that I am the most suitable companion for your daughter, even if just for show.”
A sharp, echoing cackle escaped Volumnia's lips, sending a shiver down Coriolanus's spine. 
"Oh, Coriolanus," she drawled, her voice dripping with sarcasm, "my dear star pupil, you underestimate your own abilities. You are the very person I need to keep that girl in line. Plus she makes you look like a more viable successor."
His jaw tensed. 
“I hardly think that if you couldn’t control her I could.” 
“Control is a fickle thing Mr. Snow,” Volumnia did not even turn to face him as she stared down into a microscope. She turned a dial to clarify the view before then adding liquid, some sort of acid from the smell, and stirring the plate with a glass rod before continuing. 
"Y/N is merely playing at having control. She is an actor, a performer, and you, my dear Coriolanus, will be her stage."
“And what is my role in this performance?” 
"You will be the charming escort, the perfect foil to her rebellious spirit," she explained. "Your ability to manage her shows that the Gaul name carries on in your relationship with her, breeding the best gamemaker there could ever be."
His fingers itched to throw the beaker of acid onto Gaul. The very thought of touching you made his skin crawl. He could still feel the lingering sensation of your skin against his, a clammy, unnatural warmth that sent shivers down his spine from the last time the two of you had touched even briefly. Truly his interactions with you had been limited before the 10th games, you were two years his junior, it was only after he came back from 12 that he had even spoken to you. Now you worked side by side with each other on the games under your mother, and his every interaction with you made him violent.
The idea of having you draped over his arm all night filled him with a sense of nausea. He could almost picture you under him, your body contorting in agony as you choked by his doing. He envisioned himself standing over one of the ridiculous chaises in your family estate, your father's extravagant purchase. He would slowly tighten his grip around your throat, watching as your eyes bulged in terror and your face contorted in pain.
The thought of your hands desperately clawing at his arms, your tears streaming down your face, sent a strange jolt of excitement through him. 
He pictured himself using one of the delicate scarves you always wore to strangle you, the soft fabric contrasting with the harshness of your screams. He would watch as your eyes rolled back in your head, your life fading away with a final, gasping breath.
Hate was a strong word, but it was the only word that adequately described his feelings for you. A venomous mixture of loathing, fascination, and a twisted desire that he couldn't quite explain. Lucy Gray he had wanted to control, but you wanted to break.
“As you wish Dr. Gaul.”
_
When your mother had told you that you were to be escorted by Coriolanus to the gala and then “pretend” to court him, you were pissed. You saw through his carefully constructed façade of charm and sophistication, recognizing him for the manipulative user he truly was. In his eyes, people were nothing more than expendable pawns, their lives mere tokens in his ruthless game.
While you couldn't deny that you shared a similar disregard for human life, having been raised in an environment where expendability was a given, there was a fundamental difference between your perspectives. You saw value in keeping people alive, recognizing their potential as tools in your own elaborate schemes. Death was not an option for you; it was a blunt instrument, a crude solution to a complex problem. People were willing to go to the extremes for their loved ones, and extremes meant profit.
There was no choice to be had in the matter of being his date, mother dearest had given you a look that said all. If you dared to defy her wishes, she would unleash a torrent of consequences, transforming your life into a living hell until she deemed your lesson learned. While you possessed a certain degree of freedom, there were lines even you dared not cross, and this was one of them. 
But Coriolanus made you feel things that you thought you were incapable of, a deep burning rage that whispered at the end of it all one of you would be consumed. You could almost envision the moment when your fury would reach its crescendo, when your teeth would sink into his flesh, consuming him in the flames of your intensity.
As if life couldn't be any more cruel to you, Coriolanus had insisted that you were costumed by his cousin Tigris. Now Tigris was agreeable company, a beacon of kindness and warmth, possessed an innate ability to perceive the good in others. While you found her naivety and idealism somewhat exasperating, you couldn't deny her inherent goodness and her remarkable skill as a seamstress.
Yet, the thought of enduring the tedious process of changing into multiple outfits, each designed to enhance Tigris's artistic vision, threatened to push you to the brink of insanity, a state your mother had succumbed to years ago. The prospect of reliving her descent into madness sent a chill down your spine.
Tigris's fingers trailed along the soft fabric of the gown, carefully adjusting its folds to accentuate the curves of your body. "You know, you've got a really nice figure," she remarked, her voice laced with admiration.
A wry smile tugged at the corners of your lips. "Why thank you, Tigris. If you asked your cousin, he'd tell you I had a body made for the Districts."
Tigris's brow furrowed in confusion. "What does that even mean?"
"Oh, it's just one of his many ways of insulting me," you explained with a shrug. "He's surprisingly bad at it, considering how much he tries."
As Tigris continued her work, meticulously crafting the gown to perfection, you found yourself enjoying her company more than you had anticipated. Her easygoing nature and engaging conversation provided a welcome distraction from the simmering tension that always seemed to accompany Coriolanus's presence.
For a fleeting moment, you allowed yourself to relax, to partially let down the guard you had carefully constructed over the years. You savoured the simple pleasure of Tigris's companionship, cherishing the rare moments of genuine connection in a world that often felt cold and impersonal. Even if it was inside the Snow family penthouse.
The black velvet gown hugged your curves like a second skin. Tigris' skilled hands moved with practised ease, adjusting the intricate details of the dress, ensuring that it would perfectly complement your form.
"I think I'll add a corset effect to this," Tigris mused. "Corio has some cufflinks that were his father’s that would go well with that."
"I am but your humble dress-up doll," you teased, playing along with her lighthearted banter.
Tigris's smile widened, her laughter echoing through the opulent dressing room. "Well then, I'll have to show off my best work for such a famous doll," she declared, her voice filled with playful affection.
The light hearted mood continued for some time, eventually a servant came in to offer you tea. That ended up being your only respite as Tigris then wanted you to try on more gowns for different events. Apparently you had sparked something in her to create various things.
Perched atop a pedestal, clad only in your underwear and an arm across your bare chest, conversation flowed with Tigris, her nimble fingers expertly hemming the length of a shimmering silver gown. Your topics ranged from the latest academy and university gossip to Ma Plinth's overprotective tendencies towards Coriolanus, eventually settling on your father's renowned interior design skills. His contributions to the Capitol's architectural landscape were a source of pride for both of you.
You two had been so lost in conversation you hadn’t heard Coriolanus enter the apartment and calling out for Tigris until he was in the doorframe of the dressing parlour.
“Tigris I need you to fix this stitch on my blazer, it came undone while I was walking over here- oh.”
A flicker of surprise crossed Coriolanus's face, momentarily disrupting his composed demeanour. He seemed momentarily taken aback by the sight of you.
Tigris quickly rose, her hands reaching to cover your exposed form, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment.
“Corio!” she stammered, “If you can just leave it on the chair I’ll get to it shortly.” 
Coriolanus regained his composure. "No need to rush, Tigris," he spoke smoothly, his voice devoid of any hint of the turmoil that he felt "I just need this done by Tuesday."
He turned his attention to you, his gaze lingering for a moment longer than necessary. "I should hope that's not what you’re intending to wear to the gala, I think your mother would throw you in the arena herself.”
Without another word, he turned and exited the dressing room, leaving you and Tigris to exchange looks.
___
Coriolanus couldn't shake the image of your back from his mind. The smooth, flawless skin, untouched by blemish or imperfection, is a testament to the care your mother had taken in your upbringing and no doubt the many concoctions she made to keep you that way. The memory of your curves lingered in his thoughts.
He had always held the opinion that your body was more suited to the Districts, a form meant for bearing child after child to provide the Captiol with more luxury. But seeing you laid bare made him reconsider your appeal. 
His usual taste in women ran towards the petite, almost painfully thin, figures that could afford to forgo nourishment for the sake of fashion. They were delicate creatures, easily controlled, incapable of challenging his authority. But there was something about you, something that stirred a different kind of desire within him.
Thoughts of you under him shifted, taking on a carnal nature. The dim light in the room seemed to flicker with the intensity of the images playing in Coriolanus's mind. 
You under him, tears streaming down your face, but no longer was he choking you. You cried out in pleasure begging him to never stop. Your cheeks flushed, eyes glossy, mouth open as you gasped. Neck covered in hit bite marks and hickies that trailed down your chest, heaving with exertion. His hands on your waist, pulling you closer to him as he thrust again and again, your nails digging into his forearms drawing blood.
You cried so sweetly for him, came undone so well for him. That cunning mind of yours consumed by thoughts of him. He might never figure out how to predict your actions but he could figure out your needs, your desires, what makes you tick. Pull your tongue out between his fingers and spit in your mouth. To turn you on your front and hike your hips up against his own, hands pinned behind your back. 
“Corio, what's wrong?”
Coriolanus's mind jolted back to the present, the vivid images from his fantasies dissolving like wisps of smoke. He blinked rapidly, adjusting to the dim light of the room once more. Your gentle voice, using his nickname, had pierced through the haze of his thoughts, pulling him back from the precipice of his desires.
"Nothing, I was considering something for the next games," he replied, his voice slightly strained. "I do apologise, Mr. Creed. Innovation is something that weighs on me heavily.”
Mr. Creed chuckled, bassy and thumping. “ No worries my boy, your date was keeping me ample company.” 
He watched as the older man's gaze lingered on your figure, a predatory glint in his eyes as it bore into your chest for a second too long.
 Disgust churned within him, a visceral reaction to the blatant display of lechery. Mr. Creed's age only served to amplify the repulsiveness of his behaviour, a man old enough to be your father, yet still driven by the primal urges of a rutting animal.
Coriolanus saw through the façade of civility, the veneer of sophistication that Mr. Creed carefully maintained. Behind the polished exterior lurked a man incapable of masking his basest desires, his eyes a window into a mind consumed by lust.
He drew you in closer, feeling the heat of your skin spread against the material of his suit.
“And what company she is.” he placed a kiss on your temple with a chuckle all whistle maintaining eye contact with Mr. Creed. A man's warning not to vye for what was his. “I often say she should host the games instead of designing them.” 
“Oh hush! You couldn’t possibly manage without me.”
“Well I’d have your mother.” 
You giggled at that, showing that you had one too many fruity cocktails infused with a laughing agent earlier in the night, the light catching in your eyes. He could tell you were loose, more pliable then he had ever seen you. Part of him wondered if it was just all part of the act to you, playing as well behaved for him.  The Capitol’s untouchable wild child made compliant in his arms. 
Despite the lingering doubt, Coriolanus couldn't deny the allure of your presence. Your laughter, once a source of frustration, now held a captivating charm, and your relaxed attitude was a welcome change from your usual sharp wit and guarded demeanour.
“And with that Mr. Creed, I do think that Y/N and myself should go find Dr. Gaul.” 
“Of course Mr. Snow, I look forward to your next presentation.’ 
Coriolanus pulled you away from the overly perfumed man and out of the garden where you had been. The president’s mansion always had half the party outside in the expansive greenery and the rest on the first floor of the building. He guided you out of the garden, the expansive greenery and lively chatter fading into a distant hum. He led you into a secluded sitting room, its dimly lit interior a stark contrast to the vibrant party outside.
Coriolanus was a man who prized possession, a collector of valuable objects and people alike. He had never been one to share, a feature made even worse after his time in District 12, and the sight of Mr. Creed eyeing his 'toy' had ignited a possessive fire within him.
You were his, he told himself, all the Capitol knew after the revelation of your made up love affair during the 15th games. But, you had made it abundantly clear that you were not his. The ownership did not extend into your life outside of performing in your role for the people of the Capitol and to appease your mother.
It was easy to keep the lines from being blurred normally but since that day in the dressing parlour something snapped within him. 
Plopping down on the chaise you sighed heavily. “What crawled up your ass Corio?” To strung out every syllable of his nickname, teasing him. 
A sharp exhale and her turned to face you. Watching you reapply your pristine red lipstick. 
“Creed is nothing more than a pig, a bloated, self-serving creature who values nothing but his own wealth and power," he growled, his voice laced with venom. 
You raised an eyebrow. 
“Tell me something I don't know. One of their Avvoxes is like that because Festus saw his father with the girl, and his mother went bat shit.”
“How do you know this?”
You closed your compact with a snap and tucked it back into your clutch alongside your lipstick. "Festus told me," you confessed, a sly grin playing on your lips. "He squeals easily.”
He hummed in agreement. 
“Tell me Snow, when did you start to care if some old pervert undressed me mentally.” 
“Since your mother made the entire country think we’re in love.”
“But we aren't.”
“No we aren’t,” there was no love between you two “but that means you’re mine as far as he’s concerned. I don’t enjoy anyone coveting what's mine, even if this relationship is just for show.”
“Ah! Of course, there he is, the egotistical and controlling Coriolanus we all know. For a second I thought you might actually hold a shred of care for me.” 
You leaned back in the chair, your dress slipping slightly down on your chest furthering the curve of your breast. 
He had to admit to himself he was no more animal than Mr. Creed when the slightest slip made his thoughts race. His mind went back to his earlier thoughts now inspired by the room you were in. Bent over the chaise with your lipstick smeared, a litany of stains on his face and collar. He’d hike the skirt of your dress up and pull your top down, leaving your breasts free for him to grab at as he took you from behind, your underwear hanging off just an ankle. Festus or his father would walk in the scene and pale as Coriolanus displayed his ownership of you. 
“Seriously Snow what’s wrong with you?” You’ve been distracted all night.” You shifted on the chair grabbing his arm and pulling him down to sit. “I won’t pretend to like you but you’re not yourself.” 
His gaze flickered down to your chest before meeting your eyes. 
Those eyes had always held the power to see through him, to strip away his carefully constructed exterior and expose the terrified child within, a child haunted by the horrors of the bombings. They roused something deep within him, something he couldn't quite comprehend. He was convinced it was hatred, an intense aversion to everything related to you. Yet, amidst the gaudy extravagance of this opulent sitting room, there was something more than hatred, a yearning, a need to possess you, not just in the pretence of a fabricated relationship, but for real.
“Nothing is wrong.”
"Bullshit," you retorted, your voice firm and unwavering. "You've been distant with me ever since that day in Tigris' dressing parlour. You refused to even acknowledge me the last time I saw you, couldn't even bring yourself to look at me."
He couldn't deny your accusation, for it was true. He had been avoiding you, intentionally keeping his distance, unable to face the tempest of emotions that your presence evoked within him.
"Have you considered that I find you repulsive and even looking at you gives me mental anguish?" he asked, his voice laced with sarcasm, a desperate attempt to deflect the attention away from his own turmoil.
"Okay, jackass," you sighed in exasperation. "I was actually trying to be nice to you here, even considering the possibility of being more amicable in the future, but clearly, that's an impossibility with you."
Standing up from your position, you straightened out your dress, your back turned to him. "I'm going to find my mother and then leave, and I don’t know how we will keep acting like we’re in love in public but we will." you declared, your voice seeming to echo in the room.
Before you could take a step away, Coriolanus' hand wrapped around your wrist. "You're hurting me," you exclaimed, struggling against his hold.
"What do you even want?" you demanded, spinning around to snatch his hand away, only to find yourself pulled down, landing directly into his lap.
You gasped in surprise, your body pressed against his, the warmth of his touch sending a jolt through your senses. His eyes, those storm-filled pools, were inches from yours, their intensity almost hypnotic. There was something swirling in them that you had never seen him express before.
“God seriously, what is wrong with you? I don’t know why my mother insists on it being you! You are the most insufferable man I have ever met. Constantly talking down to me and trying to make me feel lesser. You need to sort yourself out.”
 Your voice raised, carrying into the hallway where he knew people were. He could hear their steps coming towards the door. 
He watched you, his expression unreadable, his fingers still tracing patterns on your waist. It felt so breakable under his touch, like he could squeeze it ever so tightly and it would shatter. Maybe that was what was wrong with him, his image was that of strength and yet you were so fragile. 
The reality was much harsher than that. He had never viewed you as a person before that day. You have been an obstacle or a pawn. Now he had to act as he loved you, craved you, desired you. Initially that was a hard ask, your very being was unpleasant to him, but since that day something had shifted in him. You were human now. And far too tempting. 
The handle of the door began to turn. The narrative needed to be made, actions taken, you both were here for a purpose tonight. 
His lips crashed into yours, more gnashing teeth than the delicate touch of a lover, a show of dominance and control. The frustration of this whole act and his loss of control bubbling to the surface and letting the anger out on you. You tried to pull away, speak to him maybe, but he pulled you back against him and with a hand on the side of your face pushed your jaw open letting him slip his tongue inside your mouth. It was wet and messy. His tongue running against the back of your top teeth before dancing with your own. The desire to consume you coming out on top.
“Oh my!”
He pulled away with a bite at your lip, hard enough to leave the both of you tasting blood.
A collection of Coriolanus' classmates from the Academy and a few notable members of high society, including both Festus and his father, stood at the now open french doors taking in the scene before them. 
Y/N Gaul draped across Coriolanus Snow’s lap engaged in a hot and steamy makeout session. You intricate updo half udon by his actions, both your breathing labour, red lipstick smudged around both your mouths. You felt like a deer caught in the headlights. You hadn’t heard anyone coming to the room too distracted by Coriolanus’ odd behaviour which was now explained. 
Coriolanus instantly snapped into character a charming smile spread across his face as he steadied a hand on your hip. 
“My apologies I wasn’t aware anyone would be using this parlour tonight.” He spoke with a lighthearted chuckle. “Miss Gaul was just simply breathtaking this evening.” 
Your name brought you back into the moment, the velvet of his voice soothing your panic. You moved to adjust his shirt and blazer back into place, an intimate gesture painting the two of you having a deeper relationship than people initially thought.
“Corio,” you chided gently “I told you that we needed to be careful.” 
“You're right my dear. I was overconfident, assuming we had a moment to ourselves. I just can’t help myself when it comes to you.” He slipped the handkerchief out of his pocket and began cleaning up your ruined lipstick. “Please give us just a minute and we will clear the room for you.” 
He finished cleaning you up and then stood, taking your hand in his. Some more apologies were given to the crowd as the two of you absconded away like teenage lovers that had just been caught. A trail of hushed whispers and lingering glances followed you out. You couldn’t catch everything but you heard one thing very clearly. 
“Well there goes the gossip that they hate each other.”
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eternal-kosmo-ghoul · 1 year ago
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“adorably fuckable”
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❤︎ synopsis — a little bit of naughtiness can go a long way, in more ways than one too
pairing: nameless ghouls x gn!reader
theme: smut ❣︎
a/n: i wanted to try a different writing style this time. this is all just pure smutty headcanons with the nameless ghouls because i’m shameless as hell. i’ll make a ghoulettes version soon
cw: nsfw content. it’s all pure smut guys. the ghouls have heat cycles. bdsm. cnc (?). orgasm denial. pet play. primal play (?). blood kink. dacryphilia. shower sex. spanking. semi-public sex. somnophilia. mirror sex. size kink. usage of toys. voyeurism. corruption kink, choking and biting. degradation. they’re ghouls, so they’re very feral.
▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆
➻ sodomizer ghoul
this man is FERAL as hell
he wants to keep you all to himself
and you bet your ass he’s going to show everyone who you belong to
sodo is big on biting. he loves sinking his fangs into your flesh and marking you up with reddish-purple bruised hickeys
if he makes you bleed by biting you he’s only going to get more turned on
he likes seeing you covered in blood
those hands of his are sexy as hell, and he’s using those hands to grip onto any bare flesh his claws can grasp
especially on your ass. sodo likes to squeeze those bare cheeks and spank them until they’re red
being the lead guitarist = good with his fingers
sodo can and will force you on his lap while he fingers your tight heat into oblivion/jerks you off until you’re seeing stars
also pull on his tail if you want to make him go absolutely feral
even the slightest touch on his tail will literally have him rock hard in his pants. his sex drive is that high
this man is cocky as hell
sodo’s really into fucking you against the mirror. he likes to see how good he is at making you feel good
he MAKES you watch him fuck you. will literally grab your chin and force you to look straight into the mirror, just so you can see how his cock disappears into your hole.
“see that? see how good i’m fucking you? mmmh~ no other ghoul can make you feel like this.”
sodo is a lot easier to set off when he’s in heat. but he’s also really unpredictable.
he can be a rough and aggressive mess that wants nothing more than to force you into doggy position and just rail you from behind
or he’ll be a bratty and whimpering mess, begging for you to touch him
he hates to admit that he likes subbing while he’s in heat because it hurts his ego, but sometimes he wants to be pampered and treated like a prince when in bed
even though he’s a huge brat when that’s the case. sodo can’t listen to anything for shit
sodo also likes to fight with you during sex
not in a sense where it’s like actual fighting, but he likes to challenge you on who can dominate the other better
always playing with the power dynamic, teasing each other with dirty remarks, it gets his rocks off
and it usually tends to be a 50/50 on both ends. he likes the equal power dynamic because it turns him on
“mmmh~… look at you.. such a mess underneath me. not putting up much of a fight now, eh?” sodo chuckles lustfully, before shoving your head down to the pillow again as he pounded his cock into you from behind.
“you’re such a slut for my dick.. aren’t ya? such a pretty thing you are… taking me so well.”
you could only whimper softly from the feeling of his hard length pushing deep within your hole. you turned your head slightly, and was met with his hungry, promiscuous gaze.
“hah… i’d argue that you’re more of a slut than me… considering how hard you are.” you retorted back with a teasing grin. though, that grin was quickly wiped off your face when sodo slammed the head of his cock into your sweet spot again.
“shit!”
“awww.. would you look at that? not much of a talker now… are ya?”
sodo then grabbed a fistful of your hair, and craned your head up, forcing you to look in the mirror in front of his bed. you could see in full view how he was slamming his hips into you, and the feeling just made you more worked up.
and sodo could feel it too.
“good fucking plaything.”
┅✦┅
➻ rain ghoul
rain is a little more vanilla than most of his fellow ghouls
key word: a little
that doesn’t mean he can’t be absolutely feral and wild at times
as a water ghoul, rain absolutely adores shower sex
sometimes he’ll just gently knock on your bathroom door, asking politely to let him fuck you
but you can hear his heavy ass, horny breathing from the other side and it also gets you worked up.
one time, it was raining outside, and rain couldn’t resist dragging you outside and rail you like crazy while the raindrops were hitting your guys’ bodies.
he couldn’t help himself— he was feeling extra needy for your body and he just let his ghoulish instinct take over
it turned him on so much, but you later got sick and he felt bad. definitely spent the rest of that day pampering you
would totally do it again though
favorite position is watching you ride him
he loves to claw his fingers into your hips and guide you as you’re bouncing off of his cock
also pants and breaths heavily every time you’re riding him, then his groans quickly turn into quick and sharp moans as he gets closer
“shit… fuck— fuck fuck fuck! ahhh~ you’re so good love—! so good… riding me like that..”
rain’s moans are literally music to your ears
the water ghoul moans differently depending on his mood
he either shamelessly moans loudly, slowly moving to a higher pitch, or lets out deep and heavy breaths of sheer euphoria— with each pant getting deeper than the last
PRAISE KINK.
rain can’t help it. he just loves to worship you and your body while he’s fucking the ever living shit out of you
will definitely hold your hand during sex while he whispers sweet nothings into your ear. he likes to be a bit romantic during sex
rain likes being both on the giving end and receiving end when it comes to praise
call him a good boy and he’ll cum immediately
he likes being praised a lot
also his horns are hella sensitive
If you tug on rain’s horns long enough and tease him, he’s practically melting and panting like a bitch in heat (which he probably is tbh)
so touch rain’s horns.
“oh yeaahh~ oh my love you’re squeezing me so tight— mmf~ you’re going to make me loose it..”
rain’s webbed fingers had a tight grip on your hips as he guided you up and down on his throbbing cock, watching your sweet hole consume his hard-on in a way that had both of you moaning so loudly.
your hands were on his shoulders, gripping them tightly that it left a slight bruising mark on his shoulders.
“rain… rain please..” you whispered out softly, before redirecting your fingers to grip onto the base of rain’s horns tightly.
the water ghoul only let out a higher pitched moan from the feeling and rocked his hips forward, hitting deeper spots inside of you that had your hips spasming.
“nngh! rain!”
“fuck baby! oh yes… that’s it, just like that.”
you only continued to ride rain with more desperation and neediness, gripping onto his horns more tightly. he kept his grip tight on your hips, and jerked his hips forward to match with the rhythm of yours.
“yes… yes that’s it… hnnngh~ keep riding me like that.”
┅✦┅
➻ mountain ghoul
big boy mountain
i said what i said
this man has size and he uses it well
like— he’d do anything just to see you taking his massive dick. he likes knowing that his size makes you feel so good
his favorite thing to do is have you cockwarm him
mountain could be doing the most mundane task like reading a book or something, and he’d just have you sit on his cock
he gets off to watching you squirm on him, seeing you trying not to moan too loud while he sits there, not effected at all.
also, he gets turned on seeing his cock inside of you
like that tummy bulge is there, and he loves staring at it.
mountain will push his palm down on your tummy, feeling himself move inside of you while he fucks you into oblivion
“ahhh~.. you feel that? that’s me making you feel good. i know you love it.”
mountain is fully aware of how big he is, and therefore he’s gentle with you
he’ll start off slow, but then he’ll gradually increase the pace until your legs are shaking like crazy
he will lift you up in his arms while he’s pounding into you. he likes the feeling of you being close to him
like— this man can be standing up and he’ll still have you in his arms while he’s fucking you
mountain also likes to watch you ride him
but his favorite positions is bending you over a counter or the bed while he’s going to town on you
will grip your hips so hard that it leaves marks which is incredibly hot too btw
mountain is insanely good at giving head
he’s addicted to your taste. he wouldn’t mind sitting between your legs for hours while lapping at your cunt/sucking your dick
also wraps his arms tightly around your thighs while he’s between your legs, just to make sure you’re not squirming too much
when he’s in heat he’s more needy, but also a little more rough
like this one time— you were teasing him a bit too much and it ended with you on his bed, tangled in the sheets while you were gasping for air
he’s sure to give you plenty of aftercare afterwards
one time while you both were sleeping together, you were awakened by the sounds of him moaning in his sleep.
mountain was definitely having a wet dream because he was moaning your name and grunting
so you woke him up in a pleasant way by jerking him off while he chased his climax in his sleep
it’s safe to say, you found yourself sitting on him afterwards
mountain was definitely in the zone at the moment.
“i can’t concentrate if you’re moving like that.”
it’s clear he was having no problem with what he was doing right now, but your situation was a little different.
sitting on his cock, but not being able to move, you were stuck on his lap— one of his strong hands grasping your hips to prevent you from moving while you let out soft whimpers of desperation.
“m-mountain please… i can’t take it..”
you had decided to wake up mountain from a nice dream by … pleasing him down there. in return, he decided to force you on his lap and make you take his hard on, not letting you move.
“sit still, pretty thing. you did this to yourself.” mountain whispered into your ear, his eyes still directed to the book he’s reading.
the earth ghoul jerked his hips upwards slightly to tease you, causing you to gasp and tighten around him.
“nnngh! mountain… please…”
“mhhh~ good… you’re doing great.. if you keep taking it well like that, i might reward you.”
┅✦┅
➻ swiss army ghoul
the king of kinks
this man has a whole list of all the shit he’s into, swiss is down to do anything, he’s called swiss army ghoul for a reason
literally everything turns him on, so he loves to experiment with you
position? he’s flexible enough to do anything you want
like he’ll either have you bending your legs backwards until your feet are against the bed frame, or he’ll bend down like holy mary, begging for you to just take him
his favorite position is your legs over his shoulders, simply because he likes hitting all of those sweet spots inside of you with his cock
swiss is the biggest switch to ever exist. he likes having control, but sometimes he wants to be controlled
one moment he’ll be railing you like there’s no tomorrow while whispering the kinkiest shit in your ear, the next he’s a blubbering and whimpering mess under you, just waiting for you to stop edging him
yeah he’s into orgasm denial. he likes being teased no matter how much he whines about it
choking kink, especially if he’s the one getting choked
swiss loves it when you choke him with a belt. will literally demand for you to strangle him harder. and when you deliver he just moans so loudly
his moans sound so hot too so that’s a bonus
makes out with you until you’re lips are numb, does this while he’s pounding into you
swiss has the most creative things to say in bed. he’s big on dirty talk
he’s just so entranced by the moment he can’t help but express how he’s feeling through words— and he’ll definitely degrade you too
“hnngh.. you’re such good little fuck doll for me.. ahh~ nothing but a cute little cumslut who’s only good for taking my loads.”
one word: bondage
and he usually prefers having you tied up
will strap you down to the bed with the prettiest red rope he can find, then he’ll go absolutely ham on you with the many toys he has
you bet your ass swiss owns a lot of toys
and he’ll use them to either edge you and have your legs shaking in anticipation, or overstimulate you until you physically can’t cum anymore
he’s very unpredictable in the sheets, but that’s what makes it so damn hot
one time you were sucking swiss off while he was singing for rehearsal
it was just you and him in the room, but you couldn’t resist going down on him, and it took everything in swiss’ power to not slip up and moan into the mic
needless to say, he let out a moan that was a little too loud and attracted a crowd
“you go down just like— nnngh! … holy maryy~”
currently, swiss was standing in front of his mic stand, singing along the backing vocals of mary on a cross. one hand was on the mic, and the other was on your head to keep your head steady.
you were on your knees in front of swiss’ aching and throbbing cock, with one hand on his hips and the other holding onto the base of his length, deepthroating him like your life depended on it.
it took everything in swiss’ willpower to not screw up and have people hear him moan… but it wasn’t exactly easy to do.
“hah… you really are going down like holy mary, aren’t you? you fucking whore.” swiss spat with a lustful chuckle, grabbing onto your hair and forcing you to go deeper, making you gag and whine from the feeling.
“m-mmmh—!”
“such a fucking slut for my dick. you couldn’t wait ‘till practice was over? ahhh~ … well this is what misbehaving brats like you get for not being patient.”
it seemed that the noise had attracted some attention from the other ghouls, who were peeking in the room to see what was happening. with wide eyes, you tried to pull away, but swiss’ hand forced your head down again, making you moan and your throat constrict around his cock tightly.
“no.. no you’re going to finish what you started. let them watch… let them watch me shoot my load down your throat. then, i’m going to fuck you over that table for them to see. got that?”
┅✦┅
➻ phantom ghoul
phantom likes to act like a lil’ cutie
and he is. he’s just freaky as hell in the sheets
this man likes to act all innocent, but in his mind, he runs wild with his kinky fantasies
he’s mostly learned from swiss and sodo. he gets a lot of his kinks from them since they share similar tastes
phantom fucks hard with bdsm
he doesn’t care if it’s you being dominant or if he’s the dominant one, phantom just gets off to the sensation and thrill of bdsm
just the thought of seeing himself/you covered in so many marks, bruises and hickeys from a long, cruel game of sadomasochism is enough to get him hard
he’s also more of a masochist than a sadist, but he still gets off to seeing you in a whimpering state of pleasure and pain
phantom is always sure to make sure you’re comfortable, since he knows how intense this kind of sex play can get
double checks safe words and reassured you that stopping him when it gets too intense is totally fine
corruption kink
but like— he won’t admit that he’s into it unless you bring up the idea to him
phantom likes to experiment a lot, especially when it comes to roleplaying in your sex life
PET PLAY. again, he doesn’t care if he’s the pet, or if you are, but he does like the idea of being leashed on a collar
literally as long as you and him gets to feel good he doesn’t mind whatever. phantom’s willing to be flexible
will literally get on his knees and beg you to let him suck you off/eat you out
phantom definitely whines
especially when he’s being given head, he can’t help but moan and whimper more loudly because he wants to get his rocks off more to your mouth
“n-nnnghh.. fuck you know to use your mouth.. a-ahh~ more please~..”
when phantom is experiencing a heat cycle that’s when he gets more interesting
he’s a lot more hyper and excitable, like an energized dog that needs to fuck out his energy
phantom’s also definitely more dominant in heat, usually going fast and hard because he’s that excited.
primal play, with him as the hunter, it gets especially intense in heat
like sometimes he’ll even play around with you, chasing you down the woods and when he catches you, he fucks you mercilessly against a tree
sometimes phantom won’t even give you room to breathe because he’s that deep into his carnal and lustful desires
he also definitely leaves bruising, reddish-purple hickeys everywhere, especially in places where the other ghouls can see them
will definitely kiss and lick the hickeys to soothe stinging feeling after he’s left them behind.
when phantom’s in a mean mood he loves to edge you.
he’ll keep you begging and moaning, while you’re writhing around in his grasp, begging for a release
and your tears turn him on too. he might even lick them off of you if he’s feeling extra horny
out of all the ghouls, phantom is the most gentle with his aftercare
he’ll literally spend hours pampering you like royalty to make sure you’re feeling comfortable and safe, and this is mainly due to all of the intense stuff you have phantom do during sex.
“awww.. look at you… you’re completely out of it.”
you were left panting on the bed, soft hiccups escaped from your throat and you were all curled up on the bed. phantom had just spent the past hour or so railing you into the next century— whipping out all sorts of wild cards that had your legs shaking.
you cringed slightly when you felt some of phantom’s cum drip out of your hole just from moving a bit. he really filled you up to the brim
the quintessence ghoul grinned and just scooped you up into his bare chest, gently whispering in your ear and stroking your hair.
“there you go… i got you now..” phantom whispered softly, while you cradled yourself into his arms, sighing softly from his tight embrace.
you could feel phantom’s tail coil around your leg, and tighten slightly, making you whimper due to the sensitivity from the previous session, and phantom just chuckled at the sound.
“phantom…” you whined out, but he just smirked down at you.
“when you’re feeling better, we can go at it a few more times. there’s still some things i want to try with you, and i won’t stop until you’re completely filled up with my cum.”
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thrashkink-coven · 5 months ago
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One of the most valuable things that Lucifer has taught me is that being passionate is a virtue.
Lots of folks think that having bad bitch boss energy means being apathetic and stoic, or being unbothered by things and striking down all your enemies with an ice cold glare. Being unreadable and mysterious and unpredictable in a sexy way. I though that when I started working with Lucifer he would teach me how to be cold and distant so that I could ascend beyond any problem because I’m soooo enlightened.
But he taught me the exact opposite. He taught me not to glare coldly at my enemies, but to look them right in the eyes with sincerity and empathy to understand why they are the way that they are, and how to navigate the situation appropriately. I don’t have to destroy my enemies and conquer all, I must know when someone is toxic to me and be prepared to remove myself from those situations or find ways to navigate them in healthy ways. He taught me that I’m allowed to be mad when people mistreat me, I’m allowed to cry and get frustrated. I won’t yell or hurl insults, I’ll communicate how I feel and ensure that my feelings are heard even if not respected. My emotions and intentions do not have to be a puzzle to those who surround me, I have the power to put the pieces together with my words and actions.
And I will loudly and proudly love the things I love, ramble on and on about my favourite books and shows because he’ll always listen. And smile widely when I see my friends. Be cartoonishly and desperately in love with my partner and cherish him like every day was our last.
I’m allowed to be emotional about things that don’t matter, like a character death in a show I like or dropping my last gummy worm on the carpet. I’m allowed to get excited to see the moon or the sun or my cat. I’m supposed to be.
I don’t have to become a master manipulator who hacks into people’s minds to make them secretly obey me like I’m playing chess. I can become vigilant and detail oriented so I can discern peoples emotions and intentions to better connect with them as people and to offer them support wherever I can. I hope the people around me enjoy my company as a real person, not because they secretly admire and envy me.
I don’t need to be cool and calm and in control of everything just so other people can tell me what a boss bitch I am. I’m allowed to need breaks and ask questions when I’m confused. My dedication to my work and art will speak for itself.
Lucifer, the king, the emperor, the morning star, has always been admired for his incredible beauty and inspiration, but never once did he claim to be perfect. Most beautiful, most prideful, perhaps, but always so with all of his quirks and flaws. Even when he falls, he rises again. His intense loyalty and passion for knowledge is what makes him the light bringer. It never had anything to do with a cold glare or strict attitude, it was always an admiration of his love for his purpose. When the angels of the rebellion followed him it was not because he was cold and cunning, it was because he was an inspiration set ablaze in glory. He was warm and light and passionate.
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sukunasun · 2 months ago
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i wonder who which jjk men are into boobs, butt or legs in the debate 🤔
a.n. should preface this by noting that these parts have their advantages from a functional perspective (i.e. a mouth feels better than a hand) but when it comes to attraction...to each their own. preferences don't mean one lacks in comparison to the other. breasts, butt, belly, and everything else are all beautiful in their own way. they'd like you head to toe. that being said, this is less about appearances and more that every lover fucks in irreplicable ways + how it has influenced their tastes.
geto is an enigma...he'd choose the unpredictable parts and the brain happens to be one of them. mainly because sex is just as much a creative process and he gets bored easily. think up a roleplay scenario and watch how his eyes light up, try a risky position, doggy and missionary are overdone, and show him that toy you really want because it has seven speed levels and fourteen vibrational patterns. the possibilities are endless. the foreplay takes precedence, he doesn't mind pushing the boundaries or "broadening our horizons," as he puts it.
you forget he has whole other sides to him. he gets as passionate and all-consuming as his love for you. heart skipping a beat when he pulls back the curtains and fucks you hard against a window. presents you to the world without fear or shame, just that he's always wanted to try it. 'try' being the keyword here, something about your body being his body too. geto doesn't think he'd learn you well without sneaking in a few surprises.
copping a feel is the same as stealing an innocent kiss. leaving them in uninhabited spots. they're too obvious, too exciting. a secret you two share. no one wants to see his tongue licking a stripe down the nape of your neck while you're busy preparing dinner for company or that they can practically hear the two of you going at it in the bathroom. you can't help the squeal you let out, it's his fault for slipping his thumb past your asshole.
you don't bother to ask why he's so bold. geto's not the kind to elaborate too much outside the bedroom but within those four walls, he's got a dirty mouth, a wicked tongue, and he needs communication. talk you through it and the like. commentary is sexy when he tells you just how perfect you feel, how tight, how wet, how good you are when you milk his cock like you're hungry for it. his come feels so hot, sticking to you like honey, coating your insides like a mark—so tell him. let your mouth do the work.
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gojo on the other hand has an eye for pretty things. loves the art of the tease. spends all the time in the world watching behind his blindfold, letting out longing sighs with cheek pressed into palm fantasizing about lines and shapes fitted upon and in his hands. how large they are, he likes to take his time running them down sloping shoulders, a waist curving inwards, and mouth-watering thighs.
his eyes are just drawn to them, supple and succulent, he likes to get his full of it. all that plump flesh in his hands, you have no business being this sexy. in a pair of jeans, in leggings, or when they peek from below short pretty dresses. diaphanous thing damp with more than just water but your sweaty skin and slick, dripping pussy. it hints and hides just enough, not too much. accentuating, revealing something he can't wait to have. loves that bit of chub that sticks out when you wear thigh-high socks and garters. "you think im letting you leave the house like that?" he warns, fingers tugging at the elastic, wanting to rip them apart. then holds onto it when he drives you anywhere because he’s clingy isn't he? his fingers mark you with heat and his intent to get crushed like a watermelon between them, even when you do the ‘hovering’ straddling thing so you don't 'hurt' him. which is impossible. gojo is more than capable.
he'll pull you back down, wanting to feel your full weight atop him, grips onto them and watches as they tremble and shake. it's the best part. he'll kiss them, bite into the raw skin. not to mention it feels so soft when he’s laying his head on them, feeling you brush his hair back, "i could stay here forever..." he says and means it.
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sukuna wants vulnerability. or rather he expects it of you when he doesn't intend to be gentle. call it arrogance, call it knowing what he likes but sex is also an act of trust and sukuna's the most unwilling when he isn't convinced he has a partner who—for lack of a better term—'matches his freak'. it's ironic when he'll ask "what's in it for me," but transactional, no-strings-attached sex still requires defenselessness.
so it matters that your reactions are a drug and he wants more each time. how you get feistier, friskier, bit by bit as he continues to pinch and prod. your pleasure matters, but don't get there on your own. not before he gets a taste of smooth skin and how it gives under his teeth. tits and ass are so pedestrian, he prefers the more... susceptible parts. a neck, a rib, and an ankle are all very prone to nasty accidents. it'll only hurt more when he won't apologise for the occasional biting bruise or stinging slap. your yelp of excitement is more than a green light for him to yield, inflicting just that little bit of pain.
he's got a tight grip on your wrists, after he's left languid, sloppy kisses down the length of your forearm, he won't say that he loves when you smell like him. a touch is never innocent but territorial when he leaves behind traces.
stop struggling. sukuna's a huge weight atop you like tonnes of water and it stays that way until he's done fucking you. how weak and helpless you are. but it never really ends there, his fingers like to linger, dipping them between the soiled mess you made, so what if he's come inside and you're sensitive, maybe he wants more, maybe he likes the trembling edges of your body, the way your eyes roll back, the choking, garbled plea that spills from you. begging not to stop but to make it last, harder, faster, i want to be full of you—a suffocating closeness.
-------------
there's no need to rush, nanami likes to take his time. won't say he's fervent but he is tired, so he'll rest his head upon a soft stomach. he pulls you in closer every time he's sat by the edge of the bed, a hand reaching out to yours.
buries his face and kisses a line down your sternum while he inhales sweet wafts of your perfume along the way, goosebumps rising to meet chapped lips and feeling that scratchy caress in return. you thank him with the soothing stroke of your fingers, parting blonde strands and massaging those temples. his groan tells you all you need to know. there's nothing better than his dear, bowing head.
he holds onto your middle as you bounce on his dick in reverse cowgirl. wild and wanting he guides you from below and you don't see the cogs turning in his head from where he watches over your shoulder. how could you, you're too busy feeling full from how big and sturdy he feels. chest so broad and steadying you like a brick wall. it's then his two large hands trail down, hot to the touch, to cup your womb in this warm and...careful hold.
he leaves them there while the bulging spot juts up to meet his pressing fingers, where the head of his cock is no doubt pummelling your cervix. it's too deep, knocking the wind out of you, but you won't stop him. his thumb caresses the shape, the skin, whole palm pressing down and judging by the scream you let out the pressure is immense. in and out, he's more transfixed with how big he is, how much he fills you up, and how you take him so well.
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toji is a simple man with simple tastes. call it an oral fixation. a pussy tastes like heaven and feels even more so. all the things you could do with one, make her come, make her edge, he definitely prides himself on giving you the best orgasms with just his mouth or fingers. there's no need to complicate things, this man loves money but he might love pussy just a little more.
he doesn't get squeamish, toji stuffs his face and goes to town every time. hands spreading your legs apart, cupping your ass, he likes it when you grip his head tight too, either way, he's making out with it, hungrily lapping with tongue broad and flat, he licks and finds his way deeper.
in the middle of the night, he reaches under the covers for a feel. it's so soft and pliant when he slips his fingers in. he doesn't need to do much as you stir awake, toji kisses behind your ears, feeling you spread for him. "let me play with it," he grunts out, like he woke up and decided he needed to finger you.
there's jolt running up his spine the moment the head of his cock meets the slick, sticky folds of your pussy. he glides and stains the sheets with your combined juices, this wetness that clings to him. thin strands connected everytime he tap, tap, taps. if he were less eager he might just wait it out, let the tip kiss your clit and make it twitch.
but you're so swollen and ready for him, for when he stretches you out so wide you feel him splitting you in half. your aching back and hips can't withstand his heavy, brutal thrusts. pounding and pounding, you swallow him up like nothing, coated in cream and dripping with squirted mess, still spits on it because he can. squeezing him tight like a vacuum, he could never replicate this with his hand. maybe it's why he's so addicted, the sight of his cock moving in and out from between your splayed legs is better than a dream.
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cowgurrrl · 10 months ago
Text
Keep the Wolves Away
Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader
Author's note: Dedicated to my real life Andies. Thank you for making me feel easy to love.
Summary: The worst decision [5.2k]
Warnings: platonic threatening, discussions of bad mental health, so much flirting that (spoiler alert) might be real, possible THE shittiest ex I ever could've written, all the southern pet names, alcohol consumption, the resurgence of an old nude of readers, gaslighty behavior, smoking cigarettes (don't smoke kids), Joel talking reader out of a spiral, two (2) kisses
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"So, it's a date." Andie declares once you're done explaining everything to her over FaceTime. You pause your blush application to roll your eyes at her. 
"It's not a date!"
"I'm sorry, so I'm just supposed to believe you when you say you're going to be just friends with the hot, sweet single dad who sounds like he's head over heels for you?"
"He is not head over heels for me." You sound a little petulant, and Andie laughs like she did when you were in high school and trying to hide a crush from her. 
"Babe, he willingly went on a high school field trip just so he could see you."
"His daughter was there. I'm sure he wanted to spend time with her."
"I'm sure he did because he's a great dad, but he also wanted to see you in your element. It's sexy watching someone do the thing they love." 
"Yeah, yeah." You brush her off, and she scoffs. You toss your makeup brush back into its bag and check out your outfit in the mirror. It's nothing insane— just a plain black slip dress— but now that Joel's arrival is getting closer and closer, you're rethinking everything. "Do I look okay?"
"You look stunning!" Andie chirps. "I'm sure your not boyfriend will think the same thing."
"I'm going to get a plane ticket to Austria just so I can choke you out with my own two hands." You threaten, but she laughs so hard you can't stop smiling. Once the trans-Atlantic giggling dies down, the line goes quiet, and you take a deep breath as you pull your mascara out. 
"Are you nervous to see him?" She asks gently. Andie came home for the summer dubbed The Dark Days. She stayed over when the one-bedroom apartment felt too big and got you out of the house when you couldn't stand the four walls anymore. She took whatever he left behind to his new apartment so you wouldn't have to (and gave him a piece of her mind while she was at it). She made you believe in love again. Not sticky, frustrating, unpredictable romantic love but pure, easy, all-knowing love that can only come from long-enduring relationships such as yours. 
For a long time after he left, you thought you were hard to love. Too loud, too bright, too much. Until you were out at a bar with her one night, trying to find the remnants of your independence and self-esteem tucked under sweaty beers and cracked leather chairs, when someone pointed out how similar you and Andie were. "Like two sides of the same coin," the woman told you. Andie is one of the easiest people in the world to love with her quick wit, creativity, and smile. And you realized for the first time if you had even a shred of that, even if only by dint of knowing and being loved by her, then you must be easy to love too. You must be worth the mess and heartache and stained fingerprints. 
So, yeah, Andie was less than pleased to hear that all that hard work could be undone by seeing him again, but she was supportive. 
"I don't know," you sigh. "I'm not a kid anymore. I've had more years without him than I did with him, but it's still scary."
"I know." 
"I don't even know what I'm gonna say to him."
"He'll probably be too busy with the gallery and everything. Maybe you won't even have to." She says, and you groan at the uncertainty of everything. 
"God, why did I say yes?" You ask as a knock interrupts your whining. You end your call with a quick "I love you, thank you, I'll text you" before throwing your phone down. "Come in!" You yell from the bathroom as you rapidly finish doing your makeup. There's a pause on the other side before he jiggles the knob and finally comes in. "I'm just finishing up in the bathroom. Give me a minute." 
"D'you always leave your door unlocked?" Joel asks. The sound of his unsure footsteps reaches your ears, and you smile at the thought of him looking around your apartment like a lost toddler. 
"Only when I know someone's coming over," you say. "Sorry, it's a mess."
"Oh, this is nothin'. You should see Ellie's room." He says, his feet pacing the floor. You swipe on a cute lipstick you never wear and finally step out into the living room where Joel is waiting. He's wearing a black button-up shirt with nice pants as he stands with his back to you, looking at some of the things on your wall. 
"Well, don't you look nice?" You compliment, making him turn around with a shy smile. His eyes roam over you, taking in every detail or sliver of skin he hasn't seen before. His intense gaze reminds you of how he looked at you in the bar when you were sure his eyes would melt you. He looks dumbstruck, and his Adam's apple bobs when his eyes finally settle on your face. 
"Wow… you look-"
"Choose carefully." You tease to take some of the tension out of the room. 
"Beautiful," he says, thwarting your efforts. "You always look beautiful." 
"Thank you. Not so bad yourself." 
"You like it? Ellie helped me pick it out," he anxiously fiddles with the sleeves of his shirt. "Feels weird." 
"What specifically feels weird?" You ask, stepping closer to him to examine his outfit. He smells like aftershave and the cologne he's prone to wearing. Why the fuck do you have his cologne memorized, you think to yourself. 
"I dunno. I think I just feel outta place." 
"Well, you don't look out of place," you say. "These might be what's doing it, though." You tap the top buttons of his shirt, the ones buttoned all the way up to his chin like a toddler going to Christmas mass. 
"Ellie said I should do all of 'em since it's a fancy art thing."
"Well, you should stop taking fashion advice from a fifteen-year-old," you laugh. "I promise it's not fancy enough to justify being uncomfortable." 
"I'm takin' your word for it." He says as he reaches up to undo his top two buttons, revealing freckles across his chest and collarbones and the tiniest sliver of a gold chain resting against his throat. For some reason, you can't tear your eyes away from the veins in his neck or the delicate necklace stuck to his warm skin. "What, it really looks that bad?" He thankfully breaks through your thoughts, and you try to recover by shaking your head.
"No, no. Not at all. You look really nice," you say, clearing your throat. "Let me get my purse, and we can go." You don't even wait for him to respond. You just turn on your heels and walk to your bedroom. In the security of your bedroom, you let out a long exhale and try to get your mind back on track. 
You're just nervous. He's being nice. You're being nice back. It's nothing. It's nothing. It's nothing, you mentally chant. When you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, you almost have to laugh at the fierce blush on your cheeks and the distracted look in your eyes. "You better get it together." You say, pointing at yourself in the mirror like it's gonna do anything to make tonight smoother.
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The gallery is packed when you get there. Joel curses under his breath as he tries to find a parking spot, and you try to keep your anxiety at bay. All you have to do is show your face, look at the paintings, and leave. Maybe you can manage to steal a bottle of the cheap wine they're undoubtedly serving. It'll be an hour. Two tops. You can do this. 
You're so in your head that you didn't notice that Joel parked the car or that he was looking at you until he bumped your knee with his. 
"You okay?" He asks. You take a deep breath and nod.
"Just need a second." You mumble. You fiddle with your earrings, your dress, anything to keep your hands busy as you psyche yourself up. 
"When's the last time you saw this asshole?"
"He wasn't always an asshole," you try to redirect, but he raises his eyebrows at you. "Since I graduated college." 
"We don't have to go in." He offers easily, and you give him a look. 
"Yes, we do. My name's on the list and everything." 
"So?" He shrugs. "The world's not gonna end just cause one person didn't show up."
"But you drove all the way here."
"And I can drive you all the way back. Besides, it's nice having a pretty girl in my truck. It wouldn't hurt to have you here next to me for a little while longer." He says, and you laugh, feeling some weight lift off your shoulders.
"You get many pretty girls sitting in your truck?"
"Just my pretty girls." 
"Right." You say, and he smiles, creating familiar crinkles in the corners of his eyes. They look a little deeper in the moonlight, but his eyes shine differently. Your fingers itch to draw them if only to critique your work and find the answer to why he has such an effect on you. You're aware that you're staring, but you also can't find it in yourself to look away. Not when he's staring back at you so fondly. 
"What can I do to help you?" He asks. You feel like you could cry at the sincerity in his voice. You've talked to Ellie about her anxiety, so you know he has some practice in dealing with it, but he's acting like it's second nature. Like this is what he was meant to do. He bumps you again when you start messing with your purse. "Do you want this to be like at the bar? Do you want me to take you home and pretend like we were never here? Do you want me to go in there and crack some skulls? You say the word— any word— and I'll do it for you, darlin'." 
Darlin’. It's what he called you when you promised revenge for almost kissing you at the bar. Normally, you'd be against any form of pet name. Henry was not openly affectionate in that way, and you learned not to expect it from him. But here's Joel, dropping the term of endearment almost every time he's been alone with you. It could be that cowboy accent or his knee pressed against yours, but the nickname fills your chest with warmth and pushes away your anxiety. 
"Any word, huh?" You ask, and he chuckles. 
"My mama raised me not to make promises I didn't have every intention of followin' through on." He says. "What'll it be?"
"I think… I just need you to be there with me." 
"Then, that's what I'll do." 
"Okay." You mumble, and he smiles as a new wave of comfort washes over you. 
"Okay." He says.
"Okay." You take a deep breath and look at him in the driver's seat one more time. "Let's do this." Finally, you open the door and step down from his truck. He's quick to come to your side and offer you his arm before he can even finish locking the car. You smile, tuck your hand under his bicep, and let him keep you upright as you walk in. 
The gallery is full of people who look way more qualified than you— art critics, journalists, and other artists who can actually sell a piece. They barely glance at you and Joel when you breach the doorway, which you're silently grateful for. When a waiter walks by with champagne glasses, Joel quickly snatches two glasses from the tray and hands you one. 
"Here's to us." He says, and you cock an eyebrow at him. 
"Us?"
"Well, we're sure as hell not toastin' to that asshole, are we?" 
"I guess not," you laugh as you clink your glasses together. "To us." You each take a sip, and Joel tries to hide his reaction to the champagne, but you see right through it. "Not your speed?"
"Not at all." He groans as he chokes it down. 
"Don't worry, maverick, we'll get you something else later." You promise and tuck your hand back under his arm as you start walking through the gallery. 
A lot of his newer work resembles his work from college— normal portraits of things like fruits, beds, or people but with unexpected lines of colors lining them like they're vibrating. You even recognize some from your college days. You just never expected them to actually be displayed in this way, not even when you were dating and telling him what a good artist you thought he was. Some have vague titles like "$12" and "Jack," while others are untitled. You can see why it would get taken in by a gallery. There's a very clear skill in how he paints and manipulates everyday objects into something new. It would be impressive if it was interesting. 
Maybe you're just used to the way he paints. Maybe this is exactly what you expected of him. Maybe you thought he would've grown, if not in attitude than, at least, in skill. But it's clear that too many people told him good things about his work, and he saw nothing he needed to change or fix. Somehow, it makes you feel better, not worse, about your own art. 
"So, are these supposed to be good or bad?" Joel whispers to you as you get closer to the next section, and you laugh a little too loudly. The people around you give you nasty looks, but you can't find it in yourself to be sorry.
"Like I said at the museum, I can't tell you that, but…" you glance around to make sure nobody's listening to you. "As someone who saw him make a lot of art, this is definitely not his best."
"Okay, that's what I thought," he says before pointing at a specific part of the painting. "The shape is really weird right there, like he ran outta space or somethin'." You let go of his arm and step between him and the painting, smiling knowingly.
"Did you study for this?" You ask, and he nervously plays with the chain around his neck. 
"I may have… snuck a look at Ellie's notes." He admits sheepishly, and your eyes widen. 
"You were actin' like you were gonna have to rely on me this whole time! You don't need me to tell you what good art is!"
"Yeah, but I want you to." 
"Oh, whatever. C'mon, I wanna hear what else you think." You pretty much drag him to the next section of the gallery, but he's pliant and almost giddy at your hold on him. You take more time in the next part, and he ducks so his lips are near your ear to point out little things he notices. He said he was scared of being wrong in front of people "smarter than him," but all the observations he makes are valid and accurate. He lets you add your own analysis to his and watches you with a smile when you start talking with your hands excitedly. Suddenly, you're not nearly as miserable as you thought you would be, and you're even laughing together as you jump from painting to painting. 
"See, this isn't so bad!" You say as you move to the final part, but your smile and enthusiasm die when you step over the threshold. There, staring at you unashamedly is the painting Henry did of you when you were twenty and topless. He told you it was for his own artistic development, and you were more than happy to do it for him. You just never thought he would've kept it after all these years. Thank God your face isn't visible in the painting, but your rigid posture tells Joel everything he needs to know. He politely turns his back to the painting and steps between you and your likeness. 
"You wanna go?" He whispers at the same time someone calls your name. You take a deep breath and grab Joel's hand for support as you turn around and face Henry. His wavy blonde hair frames his face like it did in college but he's matured. His beard is a little more filled in, and he's gotten a little broader. Other than that, he's still the same person you met freshman year. 
"I'm so glad you could make it!" He says as he approaches. He doesn't try to hug you, and you don't move to let go of Joel's hand. "You look great. I mean, you always looked great, but you know what I meant," he says, looking over you. Only when Joel clears his throat does Henry even look at him. "Oh, sorry, man! We're old friends. I'm Henry." He holds his hand out for Joel to meet halfway, but he doesn't. You think it probably took fighting every single bit of southern hospitality in his veins to stop himself from shaking Henry's hand.
"'M Joel." He says, and Henry awkwardly drops his hand. 
"Nice to meet you, Joel. How are you enjoying the exhibition?" 
"'S alright." Is all Joel offers, not willing to gas up Henry's ego anymore, and you have to stifle a laugh at the expectant look on Henry's face. "Well, I think we were just goin'."
"Oh, so soon? You haven't even seen the last few pieces."
"Are those any better than the thirty identical ones I already saw?"
"Joel," you scold quietly, and his jaw flexes when you look at him.
"It's okay. Not everyone understands art enough to enjoy it." Henry says. 
"Oh, I understand everythin' just fine." You swear Joel would've punched him if he wasn't holding your hand so tight. You step in between them and raise your eyebrows at Joel. His shoulders are squared, and you can feel the molten anger rolling off him, but it softens just a bit when he meets your eyes. You squeeze him twice to let him know you're okay, and he nods. 
"Can you get me a refill on champagne? I think they're still walkin' around with some." You suggest. He gets the hint, but he obviously doesn't like it. He glances between you and Henry like he's trying to make a decision but folds when you mouth, "please," at him. 
"’Course," he says through gritted teeth. "Anythin' else I can get for you, baby?" Baby, that's a new one, you think. 
"No, I'm alright. Thanks, though." You say. Without thinking, you let your other hand rest on his jaw and kiss Joel's cheek. His jaw unclenches when your fingertips graze his stubble, and his shoulders relax when your lips make contact with his skin, but you know he's still upset because you're still upset. Joel smiles and walks away before you can get a good look at the blush creeping up his neck, and you're resigned to watching him disappear into the crowd. 
"He seems nice," Henry says the second Joel is out of earshot, and you have to resist the urge to laugh. 
"He is." 
"How'd you two meet?"
"Through work." You say, knowing that bringing up teaching will make his skin crawl. He sucks his teeth and nods, the champagne in his glass sloshing slightly.
"Ah," he says. "That's nice."
"Yeah," you agree. An awkward silence falls over the two of you quickly, and you're itching to find Joel in the sea of people. Henry notices your lack of attention on him.
"It's really good to see you," he says. "I feel like I haven't talked to you in forever."
"Yeah, that's usually what happens when you leave someone." 
"That's kinda why I invited you here tonight. I wanted to apologize for the way things ended," he acts brokenhearted and torn up about it, but he's years too late for the pity party he's expecting. "I should've talked to you about what was going on. We were just... becoming so different, and it felt like you were always talking to Andie or other people in the program, and there was no way to reach you."
"What are you talking about? I asked you multiple times if we were okay, and you said yes every time. I was talking to Andie so much because I needed someone who would understand me and be able to help." You say, and he waves his hand like he's swatting flies.
"Let's not do this. My therapist says it's not healthy to rehash the past like this. I just wanted to make amends and let you know I'm sorry for how you felt." It's not an apology. Not a real one, anyway. Jesus Christ, what did you ever see in him? Before you can even open your mouth to say something, he gestures to the gallery. "So, what do you think about all this? Crazy, right?"
"It's... something," you say. "Wish you would've given me a heads up about that one before I brought someone with me." You point in the direction of your half-naked body on the wall, and he gives you a confused look.
"I thought I did in the email." 
"Nope, I think I would've remembered if you said something about a half-naked painting of me from college being displayed," you shake your head. "Why do you even still have that? I thought you would've thrown it away or painted over it or something."
"Why would I do that? It's a good piece."
"I know it's good because it's my body. What's weird is you leaving me without a word one day and then keeping a naked picture of me all these years." 
"I didn't even think of it as your body. After a while, it was just a body," he says with no remorse, and you think you might hit him yourself. "Besides, you should take this as a compliment. Not many women get the opportunity to be depicted as art. It's a wonderful thing. You might even thank me one day when you're older." Finally, you see Joel walking toward you with a glass of champagne, and you take refuge in the fact that he's returning for you. "But, from what I can see, they've definitely stayed the same, so you probably don't have anything to worry about." He says like it's a secret or a compliment. You don't even wait for Joel to say or do anything. You just grab the wine from him and throw it in Henry's face. The people in the immediate vicinity gasp as you slap him and shove the empty glass into his hands. 
"Out of all the stupid things I imagined for myself when I was younger, thinking I would marry you was the stupidest," you spit. "Don't you ever try to fucking contact me again."
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You feel like a fucking idiot. What did you expect? An apology? Repentance? Regret? He barely apologized when you were together. Why would he start now? God, was he always that bad? How could you have been so blind? How could you have shed so many tears over him? How could you have let yourself be so vulnerable with him and for so many years? It's a miracle he didn't call the cops and try to get the two of you arrested, even though Joel didn't do anything. You think, at least. The second you finished your sentence, you ran to the bathroom to cry and then snuck out through the back to wait outside Joel's truck. For all you know, Joel (rightfully) beat his ass and is on the run from artsy Austin hipsters. 
You put the lit cigarette back in your mouth and take a long drag, the familiar burning in your lungs a sick relief. You quit during The Dark Days because smoking was something he did, and you wanted to rid yourself of any reminder of his impact on your life. Apparently, at the same time you were scrubbing his fingerprints from your bones, he was in possession of and doing God knows what with the visual reminder of your vulnerability and love-sickness and acted like it was nothing. Like it was a compliment. Like it was just an object instead of your body. Andie would be pissed if she were here but especially if she saw you smoking after she braved all those shaky days and nights of nicotine patches and dried fruit and whatever other remedy recommended to help you quit smoking. You half-expect the same anger when you see Joel walking toward you. 
"Before you even start, I know I shouldn't, okay? It's a bad habit from when I was a kid, and I've mostly kicked it. I just... had a lapse. I'll be back on my best behavior tomorrow," you say as he stops in front of you. He doesn't look angry or upset. He just looks concerned and maybe even a little sad. Suddenly, you regret running away from him when all he probably wanted to do was help. You probably wouldn't have bummed a cigarette from a busboy if you let him. "Don't tell Ellie." You plead. His eyes flick over your face before he takes the cigarette from your fingers, puts the lipstick-stained filter in his own mouth, and inhales deeply, making the ember glow in the dark of the night. When he exhales, he blows the smoke away from you and lets the wind carry it in the opposite direction. A considerate smoker. You should've guessed.
"Don't tell Ellie," he says, handing the cigarette back to you. "Are you okay?"
You shake your head and take a long drag. It's quiet between you two for a while, the only sound being the cicadas and the distant chatter of the gallery. They're probably still talking about the psycho bitch who threw her wine in the artist's face. You don't really care. "I'm sorry for tonight. I don't know what I was expecting, and I sure as shit didn't know that painting was gonna be displayed. I swear, if I had any idea how bad this was gonna be, I wouldn't have invited you." 
"Why are you apologizin'? It's not your fault." 
"I shouldn't have roped you into this. I should've just said no, ignored the email, or came by myself. It's not fair that you got put in the middle of all this, especially when you were just trying to be nice. You're the parent of one of my students, and for you to see that side of me is just inappropriate. I just-" he stops your rambling by putting his hands on your shoulders and making you look at him, the cigarette falling to the pavement in the process. 
"Hey, hey. Stop. Take a breath." He says. Your head hurts from crying, and part of you wants to crawl into a hole and stay there until these feelings go away, but his eyes are gentle, and his hands are warm. You think he might be the only reason you're holding it together right now. "None of this is your fault, okay? Not the painting, not the conversation, none of it. We're both adults, and we can handle these things rationally. I'm not scarred for life just 'cause you lost your temper."
"But I-"
"No, buts. You told me the situation, and I didn't care. You warned me bout the art people, and I didn't care. You threw a drink in that asshole's face, and I didn't care," he says. "The only thing I care bout right now is makin' sure you're okay. Fuck everythin' else." You search his face for anything to tell you what he's telling you is going against his inner monologue but find none. He's completely and wholly concerned about you and nothing else. Not how fast he can get out of this. Not how this might look. Not what other people might think about him. Nothing. You take a deep breath and nod.
"Fuck everything else." You agree. 
"Now, you're gettin' the hang of it." He jokes, and you roll your eyes at him. He takes it in stride, his smile never fading as he looks down at you. You stop messing with the hem of your dress and let yourself relax for the first time all night.
"Thank you for being here, Joel. I really appreciate it."
"Not our best not-date, but definitely a memorable one." He says, and you laugh. You seem to realize how close you are at the same time because you both fall silent. His curls are beautifully draped over his face, and you can't stop watching his tiny expressions. An eye squint. A purse of the lips. A bite to the inside of his cheek. You want to blame your bad night or the emotions, but you can't. There's something more there. Something that's been brewing beneath the surface since he came into your classroom. Something that will kill you if you don't act on it.
You let your hands come up from your sides and tentatively brush against his waist as you stare at him, waiting for him to say something, but he doesn't. He just stares down at your lips, and the hands on your shoulders slowly move across your skin and up your collarbone— leaving goosebumps in his wake— until his hands are on your jaw and your pulse is thrumming against his palm. You pull him closer by his belt loops, and he doesn't hesitate to crowd your space, pushing you into the side of his truck with his body. His lips ghost over yours, just barely touching, and his nose bumps yours. 
"This is a bad idea," you breathe, tightening your hold on him. He nods and presses his forehead against yours. He's still close enough to breathe the same air as him, but the distance feels like miles. You lean forward a fraction as a test, and he doesn't move. If anything, he seems annoyed you didn't kiss him.
"D'you want to stop?" He asks, sounding just as breathless as you feel. You shake your head and swallow hard when he brushes the hair off your shoulder, and you can feel his heavy hand holding you. Your hands skate over his ribs, feeling muscles and a crazed heartbeat, and his jaw clenches. "Then you better do somethin' cause you've been drivin' me fuckin' crazy for weeks." 
Finally, you catch his lips with yours. He tastes like nicotine and smoke, and you know it's going to take a lot more than patches to get you to want to stop doing this. It's gentle and sweet, all relieved sighs and shy touches until you pull away for just a second to second-guess yourself or ask him something. You don't even start to form the words before he's back on you with more fervor. Suddenly, it's like he's everywhere but not nearly close enough. He nibbles at your bottom lip and tests a hand on your sternum, long fingers grazing your throat. The metal of the truck digs into your back, but you stop caring when a little moan slips from his lips when you pull him closer.
This is a bad idea. A horrible one. A bad habit you're gonna need to kick. 
But he might just be your favorite bad idea so far.
TAGLIST: @abbyhaslongshorts @kiwiharrykiwi @sumsworldz @myloveistoolittle @anavatazes @marantha @cosmoscoffeee @shyminnie07 @beezusvreeland @eddiemunsonsbedroom @harriedandharassed @doodlebob-mp3 @ignorethisplz2004 @buckyispunk
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romchat · 8 months ago
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In Blossom visual analysis (ep. 1-7): How to film a gothic romance
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Although I'm not completely convinced about some of the writing choices of In Blossom, I absolutely LOVE the show's production design and cinematography. @mademoiselle-red wrote a great post about how main character Pan Yue fits the gothic romantic lead archetype, and those gothic elements are not only present in the script but also in the show's visual storytelling.
Lighting
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A key element of gothic romance is its atmosphere of mystery and suspense.
Something I really like about In Blossom is that despite its dark subject matter, many of its scenes take place during the day. One of the show's main themes is that appearances can be misleading and the cinematography often plays with that notion by linking light to deception and darkness to truth. Note how many of the emotionally honest beats of Yang Caiwei and Pan Yue's relationship happen at night (e.g., their couple escapades at the Li Residence, Ghost Market, and Life and Death gambling house) while fakery, corruption, and evildoing happen in the day. It's with this subversion of our expectations for light that the show creates an unsettling atmosphere.
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And these lighting choices also help set up Pan Yue as a classic gothic romance anti-hero, someone the female lead, Yang Caiwei, fears but still finds herself drawn to.
Look at how Pan Yue is lit when shot through Yang Caiwei's subjective point of view. The strong use of light creates a lot of contrast--through her eyes, he is a mixture of light and dark, his morality as inscrutable as his shadowy figure.
Camera Angles and Shot Sizes
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The show's use of low angles and close-ups further reinforces the idea that Pan Yue is unpredictable and even dangerous.
In cinematography, low-angle shots tend to make the subject look more powerful and menacing, and the show uses this technique to great effect.
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Even in the intimacy of close-up shots, we can sense the threat emanating from Pan Yue. He’s always shot just a smidgeon too close for comfort.
For example, look at how much Liu Xueyi's face fills the frame in an early "romantic" scene. The shot feels almost claustrophobic as if he's so single-minded about his goals that he has no choice but to dominate the frame (and Yang Caiwei). It's an unnerving moment despite the soft words coming out of his mouth.
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Side Note: I live for Pan Yue's (vampiric) long shots. The production design team was smart for dressing the character in dark clothes with such a sleek cut and drape--he looks like a sexy bat.
The Nosferatu references in Yang Caiwei's tomb are also perfect.
Composition and Framing
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And finally, like any good gothic romance, In Blossom illustrates how love can drive one to despair and even madness.
Because of this, my FAVORITE scene of the show has to be the introduction of Shangguan Zhi. Her obsessive pursuit of beauty in hopes of seducing Pan Yue has left her a shell of a human being, and the scene's composition perfectly encapsulates this with how it focuses on the elegant lines of her body--not her face or personhood.
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Shangguan Zhi is trapped by her delusional fantasy of a life with Pan Yue--see how she's boxed in by the vertical lines of the screen panel she admires--and the show regularly uses architectural lines to show how her desperation has trapped Yang Caiwei as well.
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goldfades · 9 months ago
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🌱 cuddles with jack hughes
𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤 | jh⁸⁶
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♡ ─ word count | 583
♡ ─ warnings | nothing but sweet fluff, pillowtalk ofc, suggests to sexy time but no description
♡ ─ ev's notes | pillowtalk is SOOO sexy and cute and i love it, also yes this is a zayn malik reference cus he's my man
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Your head laid on Jack's bare chest as you both steadied your breath. Your heart was still racing but you were calming down, relaxing down next to Jack. Your body was flush on Jack's as you relaxed into his arms, closing your eyes.
Jack was just on the road for about a week and a half and you missed him more than you could even put into words. The gentle rise and fall of his chest beneath your cheek was a soothing rhythm as you listened to his heartbeat, feeling yourself become drowsy. The room was quiet except for the soft hum of your breathing, the warmth of the bed enveloping you completely.
Jack's hand found its way through your hair, fingers gently stroking in a way that made your eyes flutter shut, contentment washing over you. "I missed this," he whispered, the vibration of his voice sending a wave of calm through your body.
"And I missed you," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper, not wanting to break this moment. Jack's fingers traced the contours of your face, his touch a familiar comfort that grounded you in the present moment, the stress evaporating into nothing. The weight of his presence felt like home, and you found yourself soaking in every moment, every sensation that he made you feel.
"I'm so grateful for you, you know that, right?" Jack whispered as he lifted your chin to look at you. In the dim moonlight filtering through the curtains, you could make out the lines of his face, softened by the shadows of the night. His eyes held a warmth that spoke more than words could ever.
A soft smile played on your lips as you met Jack's gaze, his sincerity reflected in the depths of his eyes. "I'm grateful for you too," you replied softly, your heart swelling with warmth at his words.
Jack's thumb gently brushed across your cheek, his touch tender and affectionate. "Life gets busy, chaotic, but being here with you like this makes everything worthwhile," he confessed, his voice a gentle murmur. "Everything feels okay when I'm with you."
With a soft sigh, you leaned into his touch, savoring the moment as if time itself had slowed down just for the two of you. In the gentle rhythm of his breathing, you found solace, a reminder that in each other's embrace, you had found home.
"I feel the same way," you whispered, your voice barely audible in the stillness of the night. "No matter how terrible everything gets, I'm glad you're still here with me, you know?"
His fingers continued to trace patterns on your cheek, a silent reassurance that he was there, present and forever. "I'll always be here," he murmured, his words carrying a weight of a promise. "Through the highs and lows, the good and the bad, I choose you, every time."
With a gentle smile, you met his gaze, your eyes locking. "I'm grateful for you," you whispered, your voice barely above a breath. "For choosing me, for being my constant in a world of unpredictable shit."
As his fingers traced your face, you felt a surge of warmth spread through you, chasing away any lingering doubts or fears.
"I love you," Jack mumbled, his voice barely audible above the soft hum of the night as he began to feel sleepy. The words hung in the air, carrying with them a promise of forever, a declaration of the bond that bound your hearts together.
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> make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated! <-
thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡
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theemissuniverse · 1 year ago
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MORTAL KOMBAT 1 FLIRTY/SUGGESTIVE INTROS WITH OC
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A/N : This is my OC Mal who is the daughter of Quan Chi. I’m going to be making an MK fic soon with this OC but will start all the way at MK 9. Tell me what y’all think of her
MATURE : MINORS DON’T INTERACT
Mal is the daughter of Quan Chi. Mal is witty, sarcastic, and unpredictable. Even though she has left her father to join the Earthrealm warriors, she still has an evil sadistic nature. She is a Cambion which is a half human and half demon. She is also a very powerful sorcerer. (Mal is a female and goes by she/her pronouns. Mal is also bisexual)
This is for MK 1
CHARACTERS
Liu Kang, Raiden, Johnny Cage, Kung Lao, Mileena, Kitana
MAL VS CHARACTERS
LIU KANG VS MAL
MAL : Have I told you how undeniably hot you are?
LIU KANG : You only tell me 50 times a day
MAL : Keep it real. Have we fucked in other timelines?
LIU KANG : What makes you want to know?
MAL : I’ve always wondered what it would be like to “do it” with a God.
LIU KANG : You’ve always wondered what it would be like to “do it” with me
LIU KANG : I don’t wish to hurt you
MAL : Oh baby, you’ll be the one on the ground “hurt”
LIU KANG : Kung Lao seems to peak an interest in you
MAL : You’re so hot when you’re jealous
MAL : I never thought a God would be interested in me
LIU KANG : I would tell you, you should think of yourself more highly but your ego knows no bounds
MAL : If I can pull a God - I can pull anyone
LIU KANG : To be fair - in other timelines I was also in love with you
LIU KANG : I wish to treat you like a goddess
MAL : Oh my lord - I think I’m turned on right now
LIU KANG : Are you ready for your training?
MAL : If it ends up with you being on top of me then yes
MAL : You don’t have to be so gentle with me. I like it rough
LIU KANG : I’m well aware
RAIDEN VS MAL
MAL : Aww. Do I make you nervous Raiden?
RAIDEN : A woman with your beauty can make anybody nervous
MAL : God you are so fucking hot
RAIDEN : I sometimes don’t know how to handle your straightforwardness
RAIDEN : I did not picture our first date like this
MAL : Don’t wanna wrestle me to the ground?
MAL : I’m sensing you’re a bottom
RAIDEN : I’m sensing myself becoming embarrassed
MAL : Kung Lao said you have a crush on me
RAIDEN : I - um…don’t know what he’s talking about
MAL : I see someone’s excited to see me
RAIDEN : Why can’t my body ever shut up when it’s around you?
MAL : You know I can read your thoughts right? You’re much dirtier than I thought
RAIDEN : If you could erase the embarrassment out of me - that would be great
RAIDEN : When Johnny told me to “make my move” I did not think it would result in Kombat
MAL : Oh honey, fighting you is just going to turn me on
RAIDEN : You really like me?
MAL : I can show you how much I really like you
MAL : You know the walls are paper thin. I can hear you having…fun with yourself. Did you think about me while you did it?
RAIDEN : By the Elder Gods - I hate myself
JOHNNY CAGE VS MAL
MAL : I don’t know why people compare me to you
JOHNNY CAGE : Because we are two sexy people
JOHNNY CAGE : *flirty* Hello, Mal
MAL : Not happening, baby
JOHNNY CAGE : So, Mileena or Kitana?
MAL : How bout you?
MAL : Your ex-wife was a fool to leave you
JOHNNY CAGE : I’m looking at my new one right in front of me
JOHNNY CAGE : What’s Kung Lao got that I haven’t got?
MAL : Nothing. You’re just fun to mess with
JOHNNY CAGE : You, me, tonight. 9’oclock
MAL : I’m so used to be the one flirting that, that just caught me off guard
MAL : You’re no fun. You’re too easy
JOHNNY CAGE : Why would I deny the hottest girl of the Netherrealm at a chance of me?
MAL : If you lose - you have to go down on me
JOHNNY : Honey, that is a win for me
MAL : Kitana already cannot stand the two of us - let alone for us to ask for a threesome
JOHNNY CAGE : Worth a shot
JOHNNY CAGE : I feel like you put me under your spell
MAL : Your ego is big if you believe you are worthy for that kind of magic
KUNG LAO VS MAL
MAL : I can sense you’re a top
KUNG LAO : Instead of sensing, I can just show you
MAL : You think you can handle a woman like me?
KUNG LAO : I know I can
KUNG LAO : How long do we have to keep this a secret?
MAL : Until I know you’re worthy of being with me
KUNG LAO : Don’t go easy on me
MAL : Me? Easy? Are we talking about me?
KUNG LAO : Raiden is my friend but he cannot handle a woman like you
MAL : So show me how to handle me
KUNG LAO : Anybody but Johnny! Please!
MAL : You’re so cute when you’re jealous
MAL : I will suck the soul out of you
KUNG LAO : *laughs* Of course
MAL : I think you should’ve been the chosen one
KUNG LAO : Smart and beautiful. What more could I ask?
KUNG LAO : Didn’t know I’d meet someone as cocky as me
MAL : Think you met your match?
KUNG LAO : Last night was - amazing
MAL : Oh baby, I know it was
MILEENA VS MAL
MAL : You don’t need keys to drive me crazy
MILEENA : Ugh. I don’t know who flirts worse. You or Cage
MAL : You and Tanya make me want to vomit
MILEENA : Jealous, sorcerer?
MAL : Come on, you know you like me
MILEENA : You tell anyone and I will slaughter you
MILEENA : You could get infected with the Tarkat
MAL : That is a risk I’m willing to take
MILEENA : Kitana has been asking about you
MAL : I’m more into Empresses than Princesses
MILEENA : You want my body but forget I’m infected with the Tarkat
MAL : You forget I’m a powerful sorcerer. All I gotta say is “Abra Cadabra” and go back to going down on you
MILEENA : You know you’re actually cute if you didn’t open your mouth
MAL : Ha! Got you to admit I’m cute!
MILEENA : The blood lust is starting to take control of me
MAL : I should not be turned on right now
MILEENA : Raiden is too weak to handle a woman like you
MAL : I’m guessing you got the backbone for it?
MAL : Tanya is lucky we did not meet first
MILEENA : She is
KITANA VS MAL
KITANA : If you call me “eye candy” you will not walk away from this fight
MAL : God damn it! Johnny stole my line
KITANA : You couldn’t handle an Outworld woman
MAL ; Oh honey, I’m one of the most powerful sorcerers and half demon. Handling you would be like nothing
MAL : I don’t mind this hard to get act you got
KITANA : By the gods you are more relentless than Cage
MAL : Don’t tell me I’m losing my shot to Raiden
KITANA : *chuckles* Survive this and we’ll see
KITANA : You and Johnny Cage? Is that a joke?
MAL : Aww. Are you jealous, princess?
KITANA : You talk a lot of talk but I bet you’re submissive
MAL : *laughs* Did you actually just flirt with me?
KITANA : I don’t care how good you are - I am still not interested
MAL : So you admit that I’m good in bed?
MAL : The only reason I don’t back off is because I know you like me
KITANA : It doesn’t matter if I do - I cannot be with you
KITANA : My sister has been asking about you, sorcerer
MAL : Tell her I’m busy with you
KITANA : If I let you give me a massage - it will just lead to something else
MAL : Is that really a bad thing princess?
OTHER CHARACTERS TALK ABOUT MAL
JOHNNY CAGE : 50 bucks that Mal asks me out
KUNG LAO : Looks like your pockets are going to be empty
KUNG LAO : Oh come on! You’re already the chosen one! You have to have Mal too?
RAIDEN : She chose me, Kung Lao
LIU KANG : Mal is not a prize to be won, Johnny Cage
JOHNNY CAGE : So it sounds like you’re letting me have her
KUNG LAO : How can I compete with god like powers?
LIU KANG : There is no competition to win Mal’s heart…but you simply can’t
KITANA : I always thought you were interested in me
RAIDEN : You are quite the woman, princess but Mal has my heart
JOHNNY CAGE : I should’ve known Mal was into chicks. She’s a hot demon chick
KITANA : Do you ever stop talking?
JOHNNY CAGE : You know if you and Mal don’t work out then maybe we can -
KITANA : You are truly relentless, Cage
KITANA : Something tells me you and Mal have more history then you let on
LIU KANG : Which all shall remain a mystery
RAIDEN : Did you really slap Mal?
KITANA : Yes but she seemed to enjoy it
KUNG LAO : How come I don’t end up with Mal?
LIU KANG ; Is there something you wish to confess to me, Kung Lao?
JOHNNY CAGE : Admit it - you got a thing for Mal-Pal
MILEENA : Quiet, Earthrealmer!
JOHNNY CAGE : So if you and Mal go at it who’s on top and who’s on bottom?
MILEENA : Worry about your own problems, Cage
RAIDEN : I am not telling you if Mal is a “top or bottom” Johnny
JOHNNY CAGE : If you’re a bottom then just say that
LIU KANG : Treat Mal with the utmost respect
RAIDEN : I will, Lord Liu Kang
JOHNNY CAGE : Boooo! She picked you?
LIU KANG : You are surprised she picked a Fire God over an actor?
KUNG LAO : I think Mal has a crush on you
KITANA : I doubt her feelings are real
AND THATS IT!!
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