#it took me way too long to find that emoji
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the-great-mammon-01 · 3 months ago
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your nephew ( @pridesson I think was it? ) just said he hasn’t slept in 3 days? Jesuss.. get this kid some help..
also ehe! 🫧 anon if u may!
I mean, look at who his dad is. But if you're worried 'bout him, I'll go check in on 'im. If he refuses to sleep, I'll just go get Lucifer! Ain't my problem if he doesn't sleep, anyway
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c00kietin · 1 year ago
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🧡 mostly, but I'm getting to know you! <3
Yay!! I'd be happy to get to know ya too!! :D
I wonder who you are...🤔
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neonacidtrip · 2 years ago
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You could tie your hair in low bunches on the sides and then maybe braid the low bunches if you feel like it? That way sleeping on your back they're not uncomfortable and the hair isn't pulled!
Oh, that's actually a pretty good idea! If the braids don't work, I could probably try loosely twisting the bunches as well. Tonight, I'm going to be seeing the dog who likes to hop on my hair while I sleep, so this is perfect timing for me to test it out!
Thank you, anon!
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extended-kirbydash · 1 year ago
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Off hiatus but only for kirbtober 🧯💨💨💨
you can send doodle requests if you want 👍
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verstappen-cult · 8 months ago
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LOVE STORY, M. VERSTAPPEN.
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PAIRING. max verstappen x female reader.
SUMMARY — Going out on dates with Max means taking a lot of pictures to share them on Instagram. Max has never complained, in fact, he's more than happy to show the world just how much he enjoys every single one of those dates.
GWEN'S RADIO MESSAGE. requested by @amoosarte "reader and max go out a ton dates during winter break, with max posing awkwardly while reader is taking picture every second if they go on a date, so max switched it around and take a bunch of photos of her and it's just so adorable and he's so whipped?" i had so much fun looking for max and his gf's pictures because he's literally the 🧍‍♂️emoji in every single one of their pics. so sorry it took me so long to answer this, i hope you like it!
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yourusername
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yourusername Hello, Paris! Winter break has started and what a better way to celebrate than with a first date in the city of love with this handsome man. 💋​🤍​
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user01 relationship goals
user02 forever grateful with for giving us max content
landonorris thanks for not taking your child with you.
yourusername what don't you understand about romantic holiday? we don't want u here ⤷ landonorris wait did you hear that? it was my heart breaking. completely shattered. 😞​ maxverstappen1 you're welcome! 😁​👊​ ⤷ landonorris i always knew you never wanted me
user03 the pov girlies of tiktok are gonna have a feast
user04 MY PARENTS
francisca.cgomes come and visit, i miss you!
yourusername just let me get rid of max first and i'll come to you, baby maxverstappen1 stop trying to steal my gf from me ⤷ francisca.cgomes she wants me
user05 the second pic is so pinterest coded
user06 max not wearing red bull merch? am i dreaming?
user07 the girlfriend effect is real
maxverstappen1 everyone needs to know that we walked around paris for hours trying to find that coffee place you wanted to try. i feet still hurt!
yourusername you love me ⤷ maxverstappen1 shut up
yourusername
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yourusername Everything's better if I'm with you.
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user08 omg im gonna cry they look so cute
user09 THE WAY HE LOOKS AT HER
user10 sleeping on the highway sounds like a good idea
danielricciardo disgusting
yourusername you're just jealous
charles_leclerc went on holiday without me? :(
landonorris they left me too ⤷ yourusername OH SHUT UP ⤷ landonorris NEVER.
maxverstappen1 you can join us in st. tropez ⤷ landonorris can i join too? danielricciardo already packing pierregasly count me in oscarpiastri @/danielricciardo pick me up maxverstappen1 I WAS TALKING TO CHARLES
user11 sick and tired of not having my own max verstappen
user12 obsessed with max "heart eyes" verstappen
user13 HE LOVES HER SM
yourusername
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yourusername We had a reservation at a fancy restaurant today but instead of dressing up, we chose to stay home and build a flower bouquet out of Legos. 🥺​🤍
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user14 they 😭​ stayed home 😭​ instead
georgerussell63 donuts are not on his diet.
maxverstappen1 SHUT UP GEORGE yourusername it's winter break ge, he's allowed ⤷ maxverstappen1 yeah baby defend me
user15 why is no one talking about MAX'S CHEST ON DISPLAY?????
user16 oh she knows what she's doing ⤷ yourusername no idea what you're talking about. 🤭​
user17 i am BEGGING you to stop i'm too single for this
user18 MY OH MY
user19 yn's comment section always delivers
user20 happy for them and not at all jealous
yourusername
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yourusername 🖤​🖤​🖤​
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user21 kill me now please i can't leave knowing i'll never find someone who loves me as much as max loves y/n
user22 THE WAY HE'S GRABBING HER LEG?
user23 MR. VERSTAPPEN WHAT ARE YOU DOING
alex_albon where did you two go
yourusername you've reached y/n's voicemail please speak after after the tone
oscarpiastri please remember i'm sharing a wall with you
charles_leclerc good luck mate yukitsunoda0511 i have earplugs if you need some ⤷ maxverstappen1 WTF YUKI
user24 WHAT IS GOING ON AAAA
user25 i can't keep lying to myself. i want a relationship like the one max and y/n have like you can clearly see how much they love each other
user26 OBSESSED WITH THIS DATE SAGA PLS DON'T STOP
maxverstappen1
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maxverstappen1 I just couldn't leave you without showing you my POV.
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user27 OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MYD SJDJHSDJKN
user28 all men should be like max verstappen
yourusername i didn't even notice you taking half of these. words cannot express how much i love you.
user29 "my pov" MY PARENTS
landonorris you actually made her look pretty
yourusername i'll cut the brakes of your car ⤷ landonorris THIS IS ATTEMPTED MURDER
user30 they're so adorable its disgusting
user31 i'm 100% sure their friends are so sick of them
charles_leclerc yes pierregasly you're right landonorris i throw up every time i see them georgerussell63 finally someone understands
user32 STOP THIS MADNESS
user33 oh she has him wrapped around her finger
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© verstappen-cult, 2024. — do not repost plagiarise or claim any of my works as your own.
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xo2dee · 4 months ago
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ᴊᴜᴊᴜᴛꜱᴜ ᴋᴀɪꜱᴇɴ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ
ʀᴏᴍᴀɴᴛɪᴄ ᴅʀᴇᴀᴍꜱ
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𓆩♡𓆪 ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: Nanami Kento x (Fem)Reader
𓆩♡𓆪 ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: MDNI/18+ only. post shibuya au, post shibuya!nanami, manga spoilers, mentions of body harm, established relationship, body worship, hand jobs, thigh riding, slight angst
𓆩♡𓆪 ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 9833
𓆩♡𓆪 ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: In time, in sync, tonight the stage is yours.
𓆩♡𓆪 ᴀ/ɴ: i wrote this like two years ago for nanami's bday and was supposed to post it again on his bday but im late for everything :/ but pls enjoy!
𓆩♡𓆪 twitter - ao3
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Violet clouds tumbling about in various shapes and sizes and an orange sky waning to something cooler took the time to bathe Tokyo in its glory for the evening. And as gorgeous as it looked, you could not find the means to take in the beautiful sight outside your balcony window since you were too busy keeping all your attention on your surly lover and his disgruntled attitude from the moment he had woke up that morning.
“No peeking,” you reminded him, your hands still covering his eyes regardless before you placed a chaste kiss to his cheek.
Kento sighed, his shoulders drooping and leaning his back from where he sat in the dining room to brush the crown of his head against your chest, “I’m not, and I told you this wasn’t necessary. You didn’t have to go out of your way to do anything for me.” His voice remained in that low grumble (tired, quiet, and nearly monotone), but you could vaguely hear the briefest bit of anticipation in way his vocal cords slightly shook. From the element of surprise or your clingy behavior? You weren’t sure.
You pulled your hands away after resting your chin on his shoulder, glancing over to make sure he still wasn’t peeking before you hummed and rubbed your hands along his upper arms, “So you say, but you of all people should know me.”
“I do, and I had a feeling from the moment you left this morning that you were up to something.”
You looked away from his long eyelashes brushing across his skin, noting the faintest shade of red coloring his cheek in the process, and looked in front of you both onto the dinner table where sat his ‘birthday cake’ and the polka-dotted candles lit up with the number 32 spread out. You moved your hands onto his shoulders and massaged them, your own sigh falling out of your mouth and kissed his temple at his ragged tone. “It’s nothing bad… And it’s not like I pulled a Gojo and nearly planned a whole surprise party; just a little of something to show my appreciation and love for you.”
“You already did this morning and gave me my gift. And you’ve told me, ‘Happy Birthday’ at least three times already today too.”
You squeezed his shoulders and rolled your eyes, remembering his sleepy grumbling when you had woken him up at three in the morning to tell him, when you had kissed his scarred cheek from behind as he stood in front of the mirror brushing his teeth and told him, and when you had texted him around lunch time with an excessive amount of emojis and letters full of caps lock and received a thumbs up emoji in response and just a, ‘Thank you, I love you’.
(Kento sucked at texting and it only seemed to be getting worse as he grew older, but you weren’t about to tell him that.)
But he could blush and sigh in exasperation all he wanted, you knew he liked attention from you. “So what? It’s like a national holiday to me today… Anyway, you can open your eyes now,” you combed your fingers through his hair, the undercut long since grown out as he had gotten older before throwing your arms around his shoulders once more as you pressed your cheek into his and smiled from the warmth it emitted, “I hope you like it.”
You could feel him sigh before you heard him, peeking in your peripheral vision as you watched his one eye open to give sight to the lone umber iris you treasured as it settled on the table in front of him. You bit the inside of your cheek as he took it in, the usual taut furrow in his brow lessening, his lips slightly parting as you watched the amber candlelight flicker across his sharp, angular features, and a glimmer of surprise taking over his expression altogether as he took in what was in front of him while remaining speechless. It made you giddy, a giggle bubbling out of your lungs from his apparent awe as you angled your mouth onto his jawline and kissed him there as well, leaving behind yet another lipstick stain in your wake.
“Happy Birthday, handsome. You said you weren’t up for a cake this year, so I had to compromise and I think I did pretty good.”
You folded your hands atop his chest (his steady heartbeat ricocheting off your palms setting itself as a reminder of what you nearly lost, and how it remained beating despite the rough exterior of his skin on the outside and the failed lung the doctors did their best to help causing him to have breathing problems still after four years) and embraced him from your stance behind him, basking yourself in his warmth as you heard his breathing pick up and his hand coming up to curl around your wrist.
“This is… I haven’t had this in –”
“Nearly ten years? I know,” you cheekily replied, tucking your face in his neck and curling yourself into his scent, “Would’ve been a hassle trying to find the place if it wasn’t for you telling me about it all the time.”
Kento made a noise in the back of his throat, releasing his hold on your wrist and turning his head as you removed your face from his neck so that your noses brushed across one and another, “You… Is that what you were scribbling on that piece of paper this morning…?” He hadn’t removed his eyepatch for the day, nor had he ever seemed to stop dressing down since the accident, but you knew it was more of a small insecurity he held within himself to remain looking as normal as he could. Not that he was particularly vain, but you knew he hated looking in the mirror sometimes thinking he was disfigured beyond being recognized and often it showed when it came to you regardless.
Nevertheless you felt your cheeks warm, realizing he had seen you doing that and casted a small glance to your purse that laid on the couch from when you came home and he took it from you. Kento’s own near indistinguishable glint in his eye brightened, his hands finding your waist as he pulled you into his lap and securing you there when you threw your legs across his own as you got ready for all the teasing you knew was to come. However, he seemingly spared you for the night, taking your hand to press a warm kiss to the inside of your wrist and murmuring against your skin so quietly and softly you nearly didn’t hear him.
“Tell me about your day.”
He wanted to know your thought process on why you did it and truly what you had done the entire day away from him.
The dreaded piece of paper with your destination scrabbled on it like chicken scratch had been crumbled and folded up in your purse as you had left your shared apartment in a haste, nearly your shoes on the wrong feet and almost forgetting your wallet in the process to race against the clock to get to work and to perhaps keep your husband under wraps for the surprise. However, going to the store and getting all the other supplies you needed was a walk in the park, but trying to find the exact location of… Hell, you weren’t even able read the damn name anymore by the time 4 P.M. rolled around, as the ink had blotted and the shitty pen you kept in your purse barely worked anyway, so you were left with squinting at it standing on the sidewalk trying to remember where in the fuck you were supposed to go in smack dab the middle of the Summer.
And, fuck, was it hot.
Unbearably and unbelievably hot.
July was seemingly always scalding in the Summer of Tokyo, and it didn’t really matter that the sun was only beginning to set for the temperature to remain the same as it was from noon until at least nine at night. Perspiration clung to your body with every step you took, your thighs beginning to chafe from how they had been rubbing together while you walked and you were then wondering if the sun had fried your brain from where it had been beating down on your scalp all day. You had lost count of the many times you had accidentally licked your upper lip free of any sweat, hoping to anyone above that your eyelash glue wasn’t melting off your fucking eyelid and your eyeliner wasn’t running and smudged underneath your eye with the amount times you had fiddled with your face, but more importantly you hoped that whatever you were doing worked out in the end and you didn’t look like an idiot.
It was July 3rd, and you had trotted out around on one of the world’s hottest, and most special days in desperation for a gift you had somehow thought of on your own to get.
It was July 3rd, and it was your husband’s  – Nanami Kento – birthday, and you were trying your damnedest to find that little, nook-and-cranny, locally owned (because Kento really preferred local businesses more than anything) bakery that he used to frequent constantly, and maybe beg for the recipe for his favorite sandwich so that you could make it for him for his birthday and any other day he wanted for the rest of his life.
Perhaps it was an oddball gift, as you had already asked Kento what he wanted –
(“What do you want for your birthday?”
“You don’t have to get me anything. Spending time with you that day is enough for me.”
“Corny. And you say that every year, and you still get me things for my birthday.”
“And I mean it every year. The greatest gift you have given me was when you agreed to marry me, so you’ve already given me everything I could have ever wanted.”
Okay, you’d admit, you giggled, squealed, and kicked your feet like a girl with a crush at that, the corny, dork of a man always one-upping you and making you feel like a Goddess, but God for once you wanted to make him feel the same way.)
– and he had said nothing despite the fact that whenever you gifted him that book he had been eyeballing in the book store he had literally sighed like he was fantasizing about getting home to watch his favorite cooking show, and it was then the lightbulb in your head went off when you remembered Kento only really sighed over very few things.
One: the crisp smell of a new book and the tightly wounded spine nearly making him bust in his pants whenever he got his hands on it.
Two: you.
And three: food. Not just any old food either; sandwiches that made him gush and launch into a detailed explanation about whenever the bread was baked just right, and the vegetables looked like edible art, and the meat to it was laid and folded just perfectly with the right amount of sauce and any seasoning, was really what could get Kento going and make him literal putty.
So, you thought, why not find that bakery he used to go to (and for some reason won’t go back, you weren’t about to ask why either) and get the little recipe of the sandwich he sometimes would whisper in your ear about like he was dirty talking to you again, and just make it for him? It was a perfect idea to you, and for once Kento wouldn’t practically kick you out of the kitchen whenever you offered to make something for him whenever you had the Holy Grail in your hands and could hover it over his head.
Yeah, it was a good gift, and you only had nonchalantly asked him the name of the place so you were all set the moment he spoke them without a thought in the world. Kento would be ecstatic, and it’d make you feel at ease if you got see that genuine smile spread across his face because he had looked miserable when you went to work that morning and lingered by the front door longer than usual and kissed you goodbye a little harder than normal before you left. Then he’d be less miserable having his favorite sandwich made out for him and sleep like a baby that night with one hand holding your boob like always.
Yeah, everything would work out perfectly.
And considering his reaction and how he was staring at you perched atop his lap embarrassed as you rambled on about everything, you assumed you hit the nail on the head.
Kento had propped an elbow up onto the table, his cheek resting against his knuckles and his thumb rubbing into your hipbone as you finished talking as he had listened so intently with a twinkle in his half-lidded eye and small, smile on his face. “Even when I think I know you, you still continue to surprise me.”
You wrapped your arms around his neck, thoroughly smug that you had managed to surprise him in the end and batted your eyelashes at him, “It’s my charm. And it’s not a fun marriage unless we still continue to surprise each other like this.”
“I wouldn’t necessarily know, this is my first marriage.”
“And it better be your only.”
He rolled his eye back, tapping his index finger against his temple and flexing his thighs beneath your body as he stretched them out, as he knew you were only teasing him ever since you laughed in his ear at the old grannies down at Farmer’s Market with hearts in their eyes every time he went and grocery shopped. “I took my vows to heart that day –”
“I know, it was like two pages long –”
“ – Regardless,” he shot you a look, but his reddening cheeks spoke for the most of him, “I’m a monogamous man… for the rest of my life.”
“Like a penguin.”
Kento’s lips twisted into a curl, like he was trying to hold himself back from laughing, “You say my animal documentaries are boring, yet you remember things like that?”
You shrugged and brought yourself closer to him, locking your fingers behind his neck and bringing his cheek in for another kiss, “I think it’s sweet… Anyway, I take it you like your gifts?” you asked with a tilt of uncertainty in your voice, something he caught up on with his intuitive sixth sense when it came to all things regarding you.
Kento moved meticulously, removing his hand from his cheek and to yours as his other slid up to rest on your back with his fingers spread, and it took you a long moment to realize he was touching you with his left hand. All remnants of nearly flawless skin that was once there, and you nearly couldn’t even feel the callousness of it spread out to his fingertips as you had grown so used to it. Kento’s left hand was the hand that held the wedding band, and it was the hand you always took to hold, to kiss, to rub your cheek across in a semblance of your love whenever you couldn’t find the words to tell him and he was going through a bout and your actions spoke louder than your words ever could.
He still looked at you the same way he had whenever you were the first face he saw whenever he woke up from the hospital and the day he saw you at your wedding. And you still had trouble not shying away from his intense gaze like the days you could barely look him in eyes in the beginning of your relationship, but it was all worth it in the end whenever he spoke his affirmations to you.
Kento was not a man of many words per say, more showing his emotions through his actions, but when he did take the time to formulate words of comfort on his tongue to mouth into your skin, you knew he meant every word.
“Of course, anything and everything you given me I cherish, beloved. Getting my favorite sandwich, however…” he trailed off, and you could distinctly hear his stomach grumble in a sign that he had not yet ate. He took that time to drop his hand to rub at your arm, a sigh leaving him that sounded nearly forlorn and you just knew he was already calculating all the parts of the sandwich and critiquing them to his liking. And from what you could see (nearly the damn reflection of the sandwich shining in his eye with sparkles around it), he liked what he saw.
(Honestly, if he had never went into being a salaryman those short years or made his way back into Jujutsu Sorcery, Kento could’ve easily have became a chef if he so wanted. You could vouch for that for the many nights Kento cooked for you and sent you off to work with a packed lunch.)
Though looking at Kento reminded of you of part two for what you wanted to tell him, the corner of the receipt paper it was written on digging into your breast (and probably a little sweaty) as you straightened back up and pulled your face away from his.
“Ah – that reminds me –” you dropped your arms from around his neck before you began unbuttoning your shirt, discreetly eyeing Kento as you did and creasing your lips so that you didn’t laugh whenever you saw his eye widen and face turn that lovely shade of rose when you figured he was thinking you were turning to a more carnal side. Silly, cute, little man, he had seen you naked countless times, but still got slightly embarrassed and would start sweating whenever you started to show him your boobs, and it always fun to tease at him. You didn’t keep him on the edge, afraid he’d combust if you started undressing, and only unbuttoned two to reach into your bra and pull out the folded piece of paper, “Got another little surprise.”
Kento regarded you amused (possibly wondering what else you kept in your bra) before picking the paper up between two fingers and inspecting it with dubious concern. “…It’s wet.”
“I was sweating, okay? It’s hot, now just open it.” You could’ve done without his commentary.
He obliged you, unfolding the receipt carefully before he let his eye roll over the numerous words written down in a row with instructions written next to each one of them, with precise quantities and times because you knew it had to be just perfect. He blinked as he read over them fast, an eyebrow quirking up before looking at you curious to what it all meant, “Ingredients and instructions?”
You leant into him, pressing your forehead against the side of his head and toying with the top two buttons of his shirt, “To your favorite sandwich. Now you or I can make it anytime you want, and be forever grateful to the girl working for giving it to me without an argument.”
His looked somewhat excited as he inspected the paper in his hand, yet the drone of his voice nearly made it sound like he couldn’t bring himself to care. You knew better though, he was just too embarrassed to show his obvious happiness to what you had got him, but the little sigh he let out before speaking was the same one he made whenever you gave him that book. “And how did you manage this?”
“I’m the master of ass-kissing.” (Read: you begged and promised you’d come back with him if she had given it to you.)
“True.”
You slapped his chest lightly and nearly squealed at his little smile, situating yourself in his lap as you turned to look at his favorite sandwich topped off with the gaudy candles that was slowly beginning to wither away before snatching the birthday hat you bought and slapping it atop his head. He looked cute whenever he was disgruntled, especially when the elastic to the hat slapped his chin, but it was even funnier watching his expression wither when you sat the kazoo on your tongue and blew into it right in his face and ear while expressing your excitement, yet again.
“Happy Birthday, Kento! Now blow out your candles and make a wish, birthday boy.”
A few moments passed, and you watched the gears in his head turn as he sat the paper down onto the table, and you nearly wanted to groan when you realized where he was going with his idea.
“Stop. Before you say anything else corny. You have to keep your wish to yourself and maybe it’ll come true.”
He looked like he wanted to argue but did as you asked and blew them out without a second thought. The amber glow of the day fading away as the sky outside turned to dusky purple and left you and Kento alone to enjoy it together, yet you watched curiously as he tore off a part on one half of the sandwich, his arm curling around you to keep you sat snugly in his lap before he brought up the piece and held it against your lips. His voice but yet another warm, soft murmur, mouthed into your cheek and his tongue nearly swiping along your skin.
“Wanna help me eat it?”
The moment you got done eating with him and moved to cleaning (to which you had to ban Kento from the kitchen whenever he tried to even think about helping) and while you had been cleaning, the faintest scent of cigarette smoke and Kento’s preferred cologne reached your nostrils, a thin trail of the smog wiggling into the living from the open balcony door letting you know that Kento had been outside on the balcony where he usually smoked. If there was one thing about him, it was that he was pristine about not letting any smoke come into contact with anything inside, wanting to smoke outside as he did it very rarely before, but after the accident Kento had taken up smoking more than usual. You had told him it wasn’t too good for his lungs, but you couldn’t do much when you remembered he mainly did it as a form of an anxiety reliever and whenever he was stressed… Besides, where he wasn’t too worried about his own health, he constantly fretted over your own and refused to smoke anywhere near where you could secondhand do it.
He never smoked long and when you walked out of the kitchen it wasn’t an odd sight to see him on the couch by then, one hand swirling a glass of whiskey from the bottle that sat on your centerfold table with the blue bow around the neck (courtesy of Mr. Satoru, even adding a little note that said, “Happy Birthday! With Love, Gojo <3” combined with his own chibi drawing of himself throwing up peace signs) with the ice cubes clinking against the rim and his nose already buried in the book you had bought him. He was a sight to behold as well, his bright hair pushed back onto his head with the very small telling sign of a five o’clock shadow growing along his jawline that would be gone as soon as the morning came, his shirt having been deftly unbuttoned to grow accustomed to the heat coming from outside and his skin beginning to finally wane away from that sunburn he had gotten from the trip you two had gone on to Milan two weeks before.
He truly was beautiful, inside and outside, but it was heartbreaking to see him sometimes avoid mirrors or from going out into public on the days he was feeling particularly bad.
You didn’t take long to join him, the soft music he had put on soothing your ears as you eyed the sharpness of his jawline sculpted and shadowed from the sky outside and sat down on your side of couch. You stretched your legs out and toed at his thigh, appreciating his loose slacks on his figure while grabbing his attention, “You like the book?”
“Mm, very much. Thank you again.”
“I’m glad, you had been eyeing it for a while so I knew I just had to buy whenever you wouldn’t…” you reclined back into the many throw pillows on the couch (something was your doing as Kento had been the one to pick out the style and layout of the apartment, but you were giving the reigns to decorations as you seemed fit – especially if the fuzzy throw rug beneath you two spoke for anything) watching his eye move over every word and wondering if he was truly content to stay inside with you for the night. You bit the bullet in the end, knowing you’d only worry yourself to death over him if you didn’t ask. “You sure you don’t wanna go out anywhere else? Gojo and Shoko did invite us to that restaurant you like.”
He peered at you for a long moment before sighing, closing his book and set both it and his drink onto the end table next to him and grabbing your ankles to pull your feet into his lap to rub at them, “I’m more than glad to stay here and spend the night with you. Knowing Gojo he’ll tell the waiters it’s my birthday and I’ll have to sit there and endure that God awful singing… Besides,” he threw his back onto the edge of the couch, his Adam’s apple bobbing from the hard swallow he took as he massaged a particular knotted spot in your foot, “I’m not really one for attention like that.”
Kento never was one for going out into public for celebrations, sure he would occasionally go out to eat and take you out on a date for your anniversary, and he also always made sure to have plans for your birthday, but never was one really for his celebrating his own. You had learned even as a child his mother normally baked him a cake on the day as he and his family celebrated it at their home; a quiet and mundane tradition he seemed to want to carry on into his adult life, and you had no problem obliging that. Kento never minded if only a few people gave him birthday wishes, but a part of you wondered if his newfound insistence to remain home on certain days was still the effect to what had happened to him in Shibuya. He had not seen Gojo in over a year, and the rest that remained even less, but you knew retirement meant usually staying away from all things that were work.
Sure you could hear Gojo’s voice over the phone at times, and you could hear Ijichi asking how he was at times in the night, and it was even better whenever you watched his phone light up with the name Itadori Yuji with text messages, but you knew only talking to them over the phone could only last so long and Kento had to at least go and see them when they all worried over him and constantly asked you about him. Not that you were annoyed over it, but more-so worried Kento was starting to shut himself out again from everyone and keeping his distance from everyone. You supposed he thought his birthday would come and go once more, just another day on the calendar to him and he could continue living out as the years passed and he was at peace with himself.
You weren’t going to dally on it, instead taking in his form that looked more taut with tension than it had been in a while as you preyed upon the slight sheen resting atop his collarbones. It had been awhile since you and Kento had been intimate, something that took some time to open him up to again and something that was still a hit-or-miss situation when it came down to him wanting to indulge in carnal desire, but you never pressed him for it to just instead opting to wait it out whenever he was ready. Though sex had been somewhat different from Kento at times taking you from behind as much as he could, to him not even thinking of himself as he buried his face into you and ate your pussy until you were crying from overstimulation and couldn’t take it anymore, you never really got the chance to worship him much like he did you.
Kento needed to relax, take all worry off his shoulders if just for the time being and enjoy life as he could in the moment. You weren’t about to let that opportunity pass up either whenever you had the chance on a day you were dead-set on showing him all the appreciation and love.
“Then –” you broke the silence, watching him reopen his eye to peek at you first before you wiggled your feet out of his grasp and spread your legs apart as an invitation, “something else for the night?” you asked coyly, refraining from biting your lip when you watched his chest rise and fall from the heavy exhale he took once the skin of your inner thighs came into his view.  
You had thought he’d perhaps politely decline again, telling you he’s not feeling up to it for the night, but you were mildly surprised when he moved for you, his body rolling off from his position as he found himself lowered down in-between your legs. You blinked at how fluidly he moved, having little to no time to even react yourself when he was already there, one on your legs hoisted up over his shoulder as he pressed the other one down into the sofa cushion. He was still gentle as ever; his hand skimming along your inner thighs, his cheeks brushing along your skin as you felt the roughness from the light facial hair and burnt remains on the left side of his face, and of course his lips finding their way to kiss every single inch of you he could until he got to where he wanted to be most.
You were nearly ready to just let him have it that way, your clit already throbbing in anticipation when you remembered just how good Kento was at eating you out and how good it felt when he knew just how to bob his nose along your clit, but you remembered that it wasn’t about you that night and you were set on a mission to make him feel the most good instead of his usual lenience to cater to you most of all. Kento kissed and sucked at a spot on your inner thigh for a brief moment, his fingers creeping up to find the edge of your panties before your hands shot down and one curled around his wrist and the other tangled into the locks of his hair in a gentle squeeze. You had done it in the heat of the moment to keep yourself from drowning into him; a knee-jerk reaction that made Kento balk and nearly push himself away from you if you hadn’t spoke for your intentions.
“Wait – not like this.”
Sneaking a peak down to him you almost wanted to reassure him from the slightly cautious look in his eye, his chin dipping back into his chest nearly like he was afraid to get to close to you again without knowing exactly what you wanted from him as he spoke slowly and so quietly you wanted to sigh at his brief relapse of insecurity.
“You don’t want me to eat you out?”
This man… It wasn’t that at all. You frowned, cheeks warm despite your annoyance to completely ignore himself and swatted at him from between your legs, “Are you forgetting today isn’t about me?”
Kento had the gall to look confused, brow knitted and cheeks turning pink as his lips fell into a thin line, “I always eat your pussy when we have sex.” Why did he have to say it like he was droning on about workplace harassment to Gojo again? Not only that, he nearly looked like he was ready to pout he couldn’t face dive into your pussy and drown himself in there like he was drinking from the scared rivers of Eden.
You leant back on your elbows and rolled your eyes, your skirt sliding up as you did and leaving you reeling in the slight satisfaction you got watching his eyes dart down for brief second to catch a glimpse of the panties you put on for him, and slid your leg off of his shoulder, “Yes, I know, and I do brag about it to my friends a lot –” He nearly looked mortified before rolling his eye. “ – but that’s not the point. Today I just wanna give you the appreciation you deserve…”
Kento only blinked at your words, his eye glazing over for a moment before he looked damn near ashamed and shy from his spot in-between your legs and released his hold on your thighs to sit back upright on the couch. He kept his body open however, legs spread and arms open to invite you into him, but you could still see the slight stiffness present in his shoulders as he sat there awaiting you into his arms. He swallowed once, looking unsure for but a brief moment, before he gave you his verbal consent that he wanted to continue, knowing you weren’t going to move unless you knew he wanted you to.
“Come here.”
You offered him a small smile in return before crawling over to him, not finding yourself in his lap just then as you gave him yet another kiss to cheek and trailed on over to his ear lobe, whispering into his ear in a churning murmur to let him know your true thoughts. “Something else for the night?” Only a rumbling hum was your answer, the heat behind your naval already burning with unbridled want as he leaned back fully and let you straddle his lap, your knees digging into the cushions of the couch and you breasts pushed up against the broadness of his own as you snuck your fingers up to his face once more. You were tracing over his brow bone when he answered you, a mumble as soft as the sheets felt whenever he took you on your wedding night and you fully became husband and wife with the kiss that you had dreamt of for years.
“Okay… Something else this time.”
Kento’s breath stuttered the moment you moved over to his eyepatch, meeting that one umber iris for a second before you got the approval and were able to remove it with his permission. You discarded it next to the both of you as you leaned in to place a soft kiss to where his left eye used to sit, his chest heaving with a hiccupping sigh as you moved a hand to comb through his hair and trailing down to trace his jawline with only but your fingertips. You didn’t waste any time to move your lips down to his own, planting a slow kiss there with as much passion as you always did because the scars never really did bother you, nor did the mismatched feeling of his mouth on your own or sucking along your skin turn you off to him in anyway whatsoever. It was a slow song you teetered to, opening up your arms to him as you swayed in front of him gently opening him up to the idea until he got comfortable to get up and join you.
When his hand landed on your lower back to knead in your skin and muscle with his knuckles, you knew he was complying to let you take control for the night and cater to him much like he did you all those times. Though he was still somewhat unsure as his sigh shakily and ran a finger up your spine while speaking into your kiss, “Can… can we just go slow… Just be easy tonight; no rush. And nothing too intense.”
You leant up to kiss his forehead, a sheen of light sweat making itself known on his skin there, and pushed his hair behind his ear as you answered, “Of course. Anything you want.”
You could smell the smoke and whiskey as he blew a breath of relief into your face, his mouth finding yours again for another kiss, “Thank you.”
You pulled away from his lips and cupped his cheeks, smiling against his lips as you whispered against them just what you thought about him, “You’re pretty.”
Within your palms you could feel his cheeks warm and watched his eyebrow tick upwards at the compliment, the evidence of his embarrassment there despite how steady his voice remained when he answered you, “I don’t think that word suits someone like me.”
“Don’t deflect,” you sighed, kissing the corner of his mouth as you knew good and well that he knew why you were saying it, “You’re handsome; beautiful; other-worldly… How about those?”
Kento’s face was visibly turning redder as you named off every word that you could to describe him, his fingers knotting in the back of your shirt as he balled it up and you felt his jaw shake to formulate a response. When he seemed unresponsive you settled for a kiss you placed onto his jawline to ease him, your fingers sliding down along his neck and collarbones until you found the buttons of his shirt and began plucking them free as his hands returned to smoothing out along your back. Sometimes it was better to play into Kento’s body language with your own, as he was a man of very few words at times and it was an easier route to show him your comfort through actions pertaining towards your delicate nature towards him instead of words that would only fluster and overstimulate him.
He let you map out his body as you pulled his shirt apart, fingertips gentle as they ran over the more predominate area of his skin covered in scars and lost skin. You could feel the uncertainty in his taut muscles, the desire to perhaps cover himself back up from the way you were following the moments of your fingers along his skin with your eyes, and you had to stop yourself for a moment as when you skimmed his abdomen it flexed harshly as you brushed across a long wounded scar from a fight years before the accident. You looked back up to him from underneath you eyelashes, his head having tipped back a fraction as you eased him back to look at you and to only admire his features in the violet dusk from outside for a moment before you remembered you had to keep up the reassurance.
“Is this okay?” you asked, running a thumb underneath the eye and enjoying the feeling of his eyelashes kissing your skin whenever he blinked.
You gauged his reaction as he held your gaze, something glimmering in the lonely iris as his pupil dilated when he stared for seconds longer and sighed shakily before finally answering, “It’s okay.”
It was the reassurance and encouragement you needed, keeping your touch light as you wiggled back onto his lap but a few inches and your hand on his hip trailed down to his pants, enough to reach and see what you had been easing him into already showing through his loose slacks. You spread your fingers across his pectoral, his heartbeat steady against your palm as you cupped him through his pants, running a finger along what you knew what the tip and switching to full on rubbing him through the cloth when you heard the sigh leave him as you touched him.
“Still okay?” you repeated once more, experimentally wrapping your fingers around what you could of his cock and squeezing him. Your skin prickled whenever he groaned softly, a pant on the edge of his tongue as your stomach twisted with phantom butterflies when you remembered all the breathy noises he would make in your ear and neck when he was losing himself to your touch or inside of you.
“Still okay,” he answered, his head falling back onto the back of the couch again and causing your hand to drift up towards the waistband of his pants when you took it as a sign to continue further and take the next step. You hummed as you leaned into him, pressing a kiss in the middle of his pectorals as you slid your hand into his pants and briefs fully to touch him.
His low sighs encouraged you, peppering kisses along his torso much like he did your own before in your own form of body worship. Once you got closer to his nipple and you allowed your lips to close around it for you to suck on, a higher-pitched noise sounding like a whine leaving him as he gave a full body jerk. You latched off his hardened nipple and blinked coyly up at him, watching as he kept his eyes on the ceiling and his parted, pink lips continuing to match the coloring on his cheeks while your hand finally pulled his cock free from his pants into the open air and for your eyes to see.
It was already deepening into a red, his veins engorged as it throbbed in your hand and you traced a finger along the vein protruding from the underside of him. You only watched with an inward sigh as precum began to leak from his head, feather-light touches you kept along the sensitive region as he jerked his hips underneath you while you lubed your hand up with his fluids, and whines disguised as hisses escaped through his clenched his teeth when you swirled your thumb along his tip the way you knew he liked it.
His tone was slightly shaky when he spoke again, chest heaving and his fingers digging into your shirt, “Don’t tease. Please – just touch me.” He was perhaps a bit too whiney for his own liking as his breathing began to speed up when you dipped back down to kiss along his chest and fully wrap your hand around his cock to jerk him off, but you realized he was in no place to necessarily to care when you were easing into comforted euphoria once more.
You hummed against his hot skin, amping up your ministrations a bit as you closed your teeth around the nipple you had in your mouth in a playful bite and only letting up when you heard the soft groan he gave while hips lifted marginally off the couch. You pressed a kiss to it afterwards before beginning to slide your lips down to kiss sweetly along the rest of his scars, and letting your hand fondle at his nipple instead, squeezing, tugging and all around fondling it as you kissed and sucked around rest of his body while your hand kept up a steady rhythm up and down his cock.
With Kento’s soft groans, slight whining, pants egging you on, you kissed some of the old, fading scars tenderly only knowing they existed in the times you spent tracing a finger around his skin those nights you spent cuddling. You kissed them with an overwhelming amount of affection, a reminder that he was still gorgeous with them and a reminder that he was strong enduring even the harshest of battles and coming out from them alive. He blew air through his mouth then again, a sigh so soft and full of longing it made you realize he had never been given attention towards his body like that without it being blatant ogling at his chest straining against his shirts.
Each kiss you placed onto his warm skin made you sigh afterwards, discreetly inhaling his scent each time you did so for how good he smelled and how his natural scent brought you comfort more than you could imagine. As you felt along his body, you began to feel the jittery nerves he had before slowly begin crawl back into the depths of his mind to be forgotten for the time and to be replaced with the carnal lust and the burning affection you both held for each other.  
A grunt fell out of him and his hand flew up to grip your nape when you felt him twitch from the all the overwhelming attention, pulling your body closer to him than you thought was possible as he maneuvered your head back up to him so that his breath sifted across and into your ear. You squirmed from the sensation as it made you rock your hips onto his lap when you remembered all the dampness present in your underwear and it was something he caught onto as it was beginning to seep through your panties and onto his pants.
Kento’s thumb rubbed at your nape, his lips pressing a kiss to ear lobe before he spoke, “You can’t sit here and only think about me,” his fingers left your back and you felt them dance along your inner thigh, creeping up your skirt and towards your panties as you kissed at his jaw once more, “Do you want me to touch you?”
You latched off of his skin and moved to slightly bite his earlobe, hotly whispering into his ear while your hand slowly picked up a pace, “It’s not about me.”
He was ever persistent though – a blessing to have a man like him more worried about your pleasure than his own in some cases, but also terribly inconvenient in situations like you were in then when you wanted to be the one in charge and making him feel good before yourself. His hand moved to grip your hip, his breaths falling from parted lips by then and his hips rocking upwards the follow the way you pumped his cock, “But –” he started off, a whine barely there hidden underneath his wavering voice of reason.
“It’s okay. Just relax,” you cut him off, reassuring him as you lifted up on your knees a fraction to maneuver your body to have his one thigh trapped between your legs. Kento only watched you as you slowly plopped down onto his thigh, your panties all but soaked by then and your clit tingling for attention as you leisurely rocked once and sighed whenever you felt your nerves calm down a fraction from the heated pleasure. It didn’t take long for you to build up a lethargic pace, and Kento only groaned in approval when he watched you start to ride his thigh, his arm wrapping around you to cage you closer into him and tensing and flexing his thigh whenever rolled down and back up atop him.
One of your hands slid up to his shoulder, gripping him there as you nuzzled into his neck and followed the moments of your hand pumping his cock to the way your hips were rolling against his thigh. Your body moved in alternate pivots, long deep strokes around that taut, muscular appendage, or just circling your hips around so that your clothed clit was given the friction it so desired. He was burning in your hand, the veins throbbing and his lips pushing out every noise he could muster as you knew he wouldn’t last long; it had been far too long since you got Kento in that position and it had been far too long since had allowed himself to be laid upon a bed of pleasure. It made you sigh, legs closing around his thigh tighter as you rubbed your knee oh-so gently in a circle along his balls and had to bite your lip from moaning whenever that fucking whimper left him and made your pussy clench around nothing.
Your words drew another one of those damnable whimpers out of him, his chest all but heaving and his hips rocking desperately faster up into your hand as a silent plea for you to go faster. You only hummed in delight at his keening, peppering kisses across every inch of his face that you could and massaging your hand into the tautness along his shoulder when he seemed to melt into your touch. You could feel another thick trickle of precum ooze free from his cock, and you moved your face back into his to bring your foreheads together, a flutter erupting free inside of your pussy whenever Kento kept his eye locked onto yours, following each mouthwatering movement you gave to him and onto him and the look inside of his pupil was enough to set your entire soul ablaze from all the hues of passion bursting free like a kaleidoscope the longer he kept your gaze.
Your eyelashes fluttered when you took in his expression; kiss-swelled parted lips, his eye bright, clouded, and dilated, flustered cheeks, brow scrunched in an attractive crease, and the heavy sighs leaving his mouth as he bored his gaze over every inch of your face. It shouldn’t have turned you on as much as did knowing that he was glad to have you pleasing him like you were, but seeing his face really careened you down the path of your impending release that was growing oh-so close.
You could feel the patch of wetness you were leaving on his thigh, and you knew then that you weren’t going to last long – especially having Kento in your palm and riding off the thrill of you being in charge that time around in the throes of desire.
Kento sighed your name onto your lips, another whimper drawing free of him as his cock throbbed into his hand and his hand fell off of your nape to grip your hip and following in on your lascivious movements atop his thigh. “Please – Don’t stop.”
You kissed him before nibbling onto his bottom lip, nails beginning to dig through his shirt when each roll of your clit sent an electrifying pulse towards that knot steadily growing to its head just behind your naval. He groaned again whenever you pumped your hand faster, your knee gently caressing his balls still as you rocked yourself on his thigh before you sighed and breathily asked what you knew would tip him over the edge, “Are you gonna cum for me, Kento?”
A garbled variation of your name left him, fingers digging harder into your hip as his hips jerked up quicker in your hand and he tried his damnedest to get you to move faster – harder against his thigh, but you were giving no game for that. His Adam’s apple bobbed with the audible hard swallow he took, his eye fluttering with the heavy blinks from everything happening as his eye glazed over with the full emotion that was close to his release. “Oh, fuck – please. Please keep going.
“I know you can cum like this,” you moaned into his face, kissing him as you swallowed that whimper once more and rolled your hips harder along his tensed thigh, moving your mouth to suck at his jaw whenever his noises grew louder, “God, I know you want to, Kento. Let me see you cum like this.”
Your voice had tapered off at the end, a high-pitched moan leaving you when you pussy throbbed and clenched around nothing as you felt that ball begin to reach in end of spinning and slowly begin to unravel for a piece of nirvana you could find with him. His grunts you swallowed with your tongue, a kiss full of unbridled passion you two engaged in that he greedily accepted as you two no longer had any words to say. You both knew what was to come, and neither of you were going to be deterred to stop it.
Your neediness you were sure had him reeling, his cock throbbing excessively in your hand as you squeezed him and pumped him faster to help him reach his edge. You could feel him whimper again, a suspicious noise that vaguely sounded like him telling you he loved you before he broke away from the kiss, head falling back against the couch once more and a pleased and strained groan breaking free from his lungs to let you know he had came first. You took to kissing and tonguing at his neck, moaning and sighing your praise for him as he finally released all the pent up tension into your hand.
It was a second and then you felt his cock pulsate in your hand before it was spurting out against your shirt and hand, leaving behind warm cum in its wake. You quickly removed your hand knowing he was probably sensitive, but kept yourself securely atop his thigh rocking as he caught his breath. Kento’s chest was heaving and in the low light of your living room you were able to make a slight sheen of sweat across his forehead with his hair tussled from all your ministrations. It was enough to send you over as well, a particular slow roll of your hips up his thigh that he flexed once more and you were shuddering and twitching around him with a whine of his name as you came all over his thigh whilst throwing your arms around his neck and burying your face into his shoulder.
A hard tremor of extreme satisfaction stung from your cranium down to the tips of your toes, leaving you squirming as your shaking thighs tried to close around his own while he continued only encouraging you until you were at your very end and sagging into his awaiting arms. You were well aware you had probably soaked through pants, but you were none too caring since he didn’t seem to mind at all and at times it was a regular occurrence between you two. The soft music from before was still playing as the room became humid from your conjoined bodies, the city skyline having waned away to dark as the touch of the full moon came into play and brightened Tokyo for yet another time.
You could feel your heart pound against your ribcage while you both seemed to finally come to rest after cumming, and he was dragging your body off his own to look over you and blinking down at you like he wasn’t seeing you clearly. It was one blink, two, three, then the cloud in his eye lifted and his gaze was skating down from your face and all over the expanse of your figure, awareness coming to them when he spied the mess on your shirt and remembered that he came all over your hand, then he was bristling.   
Kento was shifting to sit up, taking precaution to not jostle you and his words coming out a low murmur, “Sorry… I’ll –”
You hushed him, placing a kiss to his lips and untangling yourself from his limbs and you stood somewhat wobbly and he reached forward to catch you by your hips to make sure you didn’t fall. You brushed out of his hands and pushed him back to sit into the couch, a soft smile on your lips before you straightened back up, “You’re okay, stay here. I’ll be right back.”
Kento was generally the one who took to cleaning you both up afterwards, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to let him be the one to do so that time around when you were trying to make him feel the same way he usually did with you. He had complied you with staying put as you came back from the bathroom with a few sheets of tissues, eyeing you carefully as you wiped your hand off first before tending to him. You were meticulous in the way you catered to him, dabbing at some cum stains that had gotten onto his stomach, even some spots that had spattered against his chest before tending to the lipstick stains all over him as you watched his cheeks flush from all the attention you were giving him.
You nearly wanted to giggle at his embarrassment, but held it in to not ruin the gentle moment between you two as you finished up cleaning the both of you, discarded the tissues into the trash, and crawled your way back into his lap that he was awaiting for you once more with open arms. You curled into him as his hand stroked along your back, your own hands finding way to his scars again as you absentmindedly would do at night whenever he was tremoring from a long-lost memory. Kento shuddered when you passed by that one on his side again, curling his fingers around your wrist to bring it up his lips for kiss as you pulled yourself up into his face.
“Happy Birthday,” you reminded him again, kissing his hot cheek and relishing in the soft sigh he gave, “What’d you wish for?”
You were glad to see the humor return back to his expression, his lips quirking up at the edges and his eye sliding into yours as he reached for your cheek to pinch it, “Aren’t you the one who told me not to tell you my wish? That it’ll come true if I don’t say it aloud?”
A pout fell on your lips, “That’s never stopped you before… C’mon, please? For me?”
His eye rolled back at your whining, but he was never one not to cave into your begging as his hand smoothed out against your cheek while you toyed with a strand of his hair that had curled up from sweat. His thumb brushed along your cheekbone and he made a show to slowly move his mouth back to yours, lidding his eye almost suggestively as he kissed you so delicately and murmured against your mouth so silently you had to strain to hear him.
“I wished that I could spend the rest of my birthdays with you.”
You giggled into the kiss, corny as you expected, but also giddy with the intention behind his wish as you took your hand to place it back onto his chest, fingers spread and his heart beating in sync with your own. It was enough to let him know you wished for the same, but you confirmed it verbally with a playful bite to his lip and a sigh when you embraced him and tucked him into your neck, his lips pulled into a smile something you could feel burning along your throat.
“I think we can make that work.”
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ellecdc · 4 months ago
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Running Late
poly!wolfstar x fem!reader who is visually impaired
CW: reader has a degenerative eye disease that has left her with little sight, boys are obsessed with her, Marlene and Regulus read Sirius like a book
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A/N: another fic no one really asked for but, after my post with our sweet wheelchair user!reader, our resident pink heart emoji felt courageous enough to share their own experience with visual impairment and I was inspired by her to write this - so, I hope you enjoy it 🩷 (and everyone else who might need it 🫶)
There was a time that you and Sirius rivalled one another for who took the longest to get ready, but lately it seemed that you usually won in that regard. 
Remus didn’t mind, however; he’d wait on you for the rest of his life if you’d let him. 
He had a certain amount of patience for you that he, admittedly, did not have for Sirius; seeing as you had your degenerative eye disease to blame on your tardiness whereas Sirius was just a slow and lazy sod who lived to drive Remus mad. 
He and Sirius had been dressed in their best in the living room as they waited for you to finish getting ready before heading to Regulus’ birthday party that Lily and James were throwing for him, when Sirius couldn’t take it any longer.
“I’m just going to go see what is taking so long.” He explained before he disappeared down the hall.
But that was almost 14 minutes ago and now Remus had lost two of his partners in his own flat.
He slowly made his way down the hall to the bedroom door that was currently propped open, allowing him to watch Sirius who was perched on the vanity table as he hovered over you with a stick of eyeliner in his hands. 
You used to be quite adventurous with makeup; always watching new tutorials and trying out different styles. But as your eyesight deteriorated, you opted to remain more natural in your looks, working primarily off of memory than visuals when having to hold a mirror so close to your face no longer allowed you the dexterity to work as you were used to. 
And Remus knew for certain you hadn’t touched that stick of eyeliner in what had to be months. 
“Don’t you trust my abilities?” Sirius asked teasingly; his tongue poking out the side of his mouth as he focused on getting the wing just right.
“‘Course I trust you, Siri. I just-”
“-don’t want to look silly, I know, doll.” Sirius finished for you softly as he leaned back to consider his work. “I’d never let you leave looking silly.”
“When has she ever looked silly, Pads?” Remus asked then, alerting the two of you to his presence. 
“Not once; never.” He answered readily, causing you to scoff.
“See, this is why I don’t trust you; you’re not objective.”
“I am too objective!” Sirius quickly denied.
“Sirius, you think I look sexy with my retainer and flannel pyjamas.” You deadpanned in return. 
“But… you are sexy with your retainer and flannel pyjamas? You just look so cosy which makes me think about bed, which makes me think about going to bed with you, which makes me think about what we do in said bed and-” 
“Alright, alright.” Remus interrupted with a hand on Sirius’ shoulder as he inspected Sirius’ handiwork. 
“How does she look?” Sirius asked him, leaning into Remus’ side as they both watched you flush under their attention. 
“Breathtaking.” Remus offered. 
“You’re not objective, either.” You murmured, pulling the small mirror close to your face in order to scrutinise Sirius’ application. 
“Fine, you want objective, gorgeous?” Sirius quipped as he pulled his phone out.
“What are you doing?” You asked warily as you heard Sirius’ phone begin to ring. 
“Calling the most objective people I know.” He answered just as the ringing stopped.
“What the fuck do you want? And also, where the fuck are you?” Regulus asked his brother.
“Hey Reg, you’re on speaker phone and I need a favour.” 
“On my birthday? You’re asking me for a favour on my birthday?” Regulus asked incredulously. 
“Relax you git, I just need you to find Marlene and put your camera on so you can answer a question for me.” Sirius called back.
You grumbled in protest at Sirius’ theatrics but acquiesced at Remus’ kiss to your temple and thumb rubbing along your shoulder where his hand rested. 
“The fuck does he want!?” You all heard Marlene ask Regulus, causing the two of you to snort and Sirius to scoff in offence. 
“You guys are fuckin’ horrid, listen; how do I look?”
Marlene went first. “Slutty.”
“Like you tried too hard.” Regulus continued.
“Like you’re still trying to piss off your parents even though you don’t talk to them anymore.” 
“Like you were lost at a Paramore concert back in 2007 and still haven’t been picked up from the venue.”
“Okay, okay, Jesus.” Sirius sighed before repositioning himself. “And how does Moony look?”
“Better, I guess.” Regulus offered. 
“If I had to pick a man.” Marlene continued.
“Great.” Sirius said sarcastically. “And what about Y/N?” He asked as he pointed the phone to you. 
Remus could tell you were trying your hardest not to completely turn in on yourself, which he himself was selfishly grateful for as he got to enjoy the view.
“God, she’s such a doll.” Marlene breathed out. 
“You look stunning, love.” Regulus called out.
“Great, you guys are both wankers, love you, see you soon.” Sirius responded before abruptly ending the call.  “Was that objective enough for you?” 
You let out a sigh of faux exasperation and threw your head back. “Okay! Okay.” You relented, allowing Remus to pull you up by your hands and kiss your forehead.
“Oi! Watch the makeup Rem!” Sirius admonished him with a pat to his arse. “We worked hard on that, don’t you know?”
And Remus did know, though he didn’t think you had to. 
Because you were beautiful - always had been - and the way you carried yourself with grace and determination even when you felt as though your body was failing you left you, somehow, even more beautiful. 
Remus had known you before your eyesight started to deteriorate, and he was lucky to have been able to love both versions of you.
Though, selfishly, he thought perhaps he loved this version of you more, simply because it was his.
Simply because it was you; here, now. 
And judging by the lovesick look adorning his boyfriend’s face as he watched you stand and give him a twirl, Sirius felt just the same.
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tlou-reid · 10 months ago
Note
Hiii! I absolutely love your writing and I was wondering if you could write something about Spencer reid and reader who have just started dating and they get into their first ever argument and it’s a bit angsty but cute(?) cause he gets all worried while reader is more experienced in the relationship department so she (or gn!reader, your choice) doesn’t worry as much cause she knows it doesn’t mean they’re over? And then he gets all pouty and clingy when they make up cause he hated being far from her sm🫶 I know its very specific and idk weird so its totally okay if you don’t wanna write it but I’d really appreciate it!!!
as an insecure certified lover girl i love this request and i am so sorry it took me so long to get to <3
spencer was not expecting you to leave. to argue, to complain, even to berate, but to leave? the thought the didn’t even cross his mind.
the argument had started over something stupid, probably like a teasing remark that had gone too far, or the fact that he had been nagging you about doing the dishes. he wasn’t sure. all that filled his mind now was the fact that you walked out the door and slammed it behind you. he wasn’t sure where you went to, or if you were coming back.
yet, he was frozen in place. his knees had begun to shake as tears started to well up in his eyes. for a genius, you are really fucking stupid, he thought. he couldn’t believe he blew things with you, already.
you two hadn’t officially been together long. only around 3 months, but had spent much more time together prior to that. he was truly falling for you, something he wasn’t expecting to do. he loved the way you laughed and the way you listened to him. he loved that you were always there to greet him with a wide smile and a tight hug when you he came back from cases. he loved being around you and he loved the positive energy you put out.
and he just ruined all of that over some stupid argument.
spencer was rarely one to be unsure. after all, he is a genius, so there wasn’t many things he didn’t know. but, standing alone in front of his apartment door, he was clueless. should he run after you? should he wait it out? should he start packing up all of the things you’ve left at his apartment over these three months? he didn’t know.
so, like with most things he didn’t know, he was going to research. sure, to the common person googling “what to do after a fight with your girlfriend” would be corny, maybe even a little dumb, but not to spencer. when he couldn’t figure stuff out, he found other sources that could. so that’s what he was trying to do now.
much to spencer’s dismay, he was met with a whole bunch of editorials. not a single academic paper, dissertation, or research project had been conducted on the topic. so, he took what he could get and began reading over the newest People Magazine article titled “steps to making your girlfriend happy after being a bad boyfriend”.
he wasn’t sure how long he’d been reading, or how many different pop culture magazine websites he’d accidentally signed up for on his old desktop by the time his phone rang. it startled him, but he moved quickly to get it, assuming it was hotch calling him to come in for a case.
his heart sped up but his stomach dropped when he saw your first name, with the little otter emoji next to it. you had picked it, spencer didn’t even know there was an otter emoji.
his thumb slid over the answer button as quickly as he could move it, but once he brought the phone up to his ear, spencer couldn’t find any words.
the line was silent for a minute. you weren’t sure if he was even breathing on the other side. you wanted to give yourself time to cool off, separate from spencer. his little remark about your poor cooking skills had gotten to you, and you didn’t want it to become a massive argument. you didn’t know that spencer had spiraled after you left.
“are you going to come over or what?” you couldn’t help but let the residual anger you were holding slip out. despite this, spencer’s breath caught in his throat. you heard him take a deep exhale before saying, “you want me to come over?”
the desperation in his voice was so apparent, it broke your heart. any anger you were holding onto, or any bitterness about the comment he made completely wiped away when you heard spencer’s voice. you guessed that he had probably been crying. you softened your tone, and spoke slowly as you answered him, “of course i want you to come over, spence. we don’t get to have two sleepovers in a row very often.”
spencer’s hand was shaking as he listened to your words. he thought for sure you were going to break up with him. all he said was, “i’m on my way.” before hanging up.
you shouldn’t have been surprised at spencer throwing himself in your arms when you opened the door for him. he always craved physical touch, despite his fear of germs. he knew you and he cherished you, and all he wanted was to be close to you.
your hand snaked around his back as he buried his head in your shoulder. you tried to pretend you couldn’t feel the tears escaping from him. he wasn’t sobbing, there was just other way for him to have the emotional release he needed than to allow his tears to fall. your hand rubbed lovingly over his back, letting him adjust to being back with you.
“i’m so sorry,” he muttered against you. his hands were balled up between you two and you could feel him nervously squeezing his fists tighter. “spencer, it’s okay,” you assured.
you pulled away from him, only to wipe his tears away and move his hair out of his face. despite his height, he looked so tiny and vulnerable. “i didn’t mean to upset you,” he whined. “it’s okay,” you repeated, grabbing his hand to move him to the sofa.
you sat across from him, but he stared at the floor. “i thought you were breaking up with me,” he muttered. his voice was quiet and gentle. you couldn’t help but laugh at his statement. “why would i do that?” you moved closer to him, tucking his hair behind his ear to get him to look at you. “i-i don’t know! you just left and you were angry and i thought you weren’t coming back,” tears were filling up his eyes again as he finally met your gaze.
“spence,” you cooed, “couples fight and sometimes they need space. a little argument like that is nothing. we’re okay,” you promised him. he nodded, then reached out to pull you into his chest. “i don’t like when you storm out like that,” he said. “‘m sorry,” you mumbled against him. he just nodded and pressed a kiss to the top of your head.
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romanticinlove · 5 months ago
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The ex-boyfriend
Summary: Your ex-boyfriend has been trying to get back together with you for a while now. Your current boyfriend has no problem stepping in.
Word count: 1.1K
content warning: Zack Bia 😟, slight mentions of a toxic relationship
a/n: enjoy!
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Because you were in the public eye, every single detail of your life was being shown at all times, that included your relationships. Your most recent ex boyfriend, Zack Bia, and you had a very public breakup because he cheated on you. Apart from the cheating, the relationship was toxic and he was a master manipulator. You knew of his reputation, but you still went along with him. You kicked yourself for it and so did everyone else. When your relationship with him was announced, everyone was so confused. Like you and him of all people. But when the relationship ended, because you ended it, people rejoiced. Everyone was so happy to hear the news. Everyone including a young football player, Jude Bellingham.
Jude had had a crush on you ever since you did a photoshoot with Prada. When he saw you on the runway for the first time, he malfunctioned. He got jealous when the pictures of you and Zack first dropped. He could not wrap his mind around the fact that you and that loser were dating. But, when the relationship ended, he took that as his in. He started off by liking and reacting to your stories, and then he dm'ed you. Nothing too crazy, just a simple "hey" with a smiling emoji. From there the two of you began talking. And soon enough, 5 months after the drama with Zack Bia, you were dating Jude Bellingham.
When the news about you and the 20-year old came out, Zack immediately tried to call you. you ignored his calls and then the texts came through.
Zack: Wtf
Zack: Why are you dating that guy???
Zack: We literally just broke up it's so obvious that you're desperate for attention.
Zack: If you wanted to be in a relationship so bad, I would've come back
Zack: I miss u
Even when you blocked his number he contacted you from another one. Once you received more and more messages, you tried to respond to him
You: Please leave me alone. Go find someone else to gaslight
Zack: see you love to thow around that word, but I don't think you actually knows what it means.
Zack: I miss you. I've changed I'm willing to prove that
You: I am dating someone else please stop
Zack: He doesn't matter. He doesn't love you like I do
Zack: I want to see you, I'm in Spain right now, come see me
You shut your phone off and sighed in frustration. Why did he have to come all this way just to bother you? You immediately called Jude.
"hello" Jude answered on the second ring. You loved how he would always answer your call, no matter what, as fast as he possibly could.
"Hey baby, are you busy right now?" You asked. You were so annoyed and needed Jude's comfort.
"no not at all why? is everything ok?"
"yeah could you just come over please" Jude could hear the desperation in your voice so he immediately got his things from his house and began to head out.
"of course, I'll be there soon"
When Jude arrived at your apartment, You explained everything to him. From how you and Zack started dating, to his constant harassment and even him being in Spain. Jude was visibly upset, but he wasn't mad at you, but at that lunatic. He hated how upset he made you and how he was trying to push his way back into your life.
" I just don't know what to do anymore" You stated "I just want to stay here with you forever, I don't want to deal with him." You were laying on Judes chest in your bed as he drew circles on your back.
"I promise he is long gone, he is bluffing. I don't think he would come all the way to Spain. Besides, I will stay with you here forever" He said as he kissed your forehead. You smiled and you both decided to watch s show together. Halfway through one of the episodes, you heard a knock at the door and looked over at Jude in confusion. Unfortunately, he was asleep, so, you got up and went to answer the door. Lo and behold, outside your door was your ex-boyfriend.
"I told you I missed you" Zack said while holding flowers.
"I don't care, I told you I'm with someone else. You and I are done." You said as you tried to close the door. He managed to push his way in. "You need to leave right now"
"No, we still need to talk, I don't like how things ended"
" You cheated on me, there end of story"
"I wouldn't have cheated if you hadn't made me" Zack told you and you looked at him in confusion and he continued. " You were always such a bitch nagging about your job, it wasn't that hard. I needed to find someone to distract myself from your constant complaining" Zack began to yell at you and You just shook your head.
"Ok I complained too much, you found someone else, everything is good again, please leave" You were getting annoyed and began to walk towards the door to open it. That's when he grabbed your arm and pushed you away from the door.
"I said we need to talk" He yelled at you and that's when Jude stepped out of the bedroom and looked at him. Jude threw a punch at him and he went down onto the couch. "Don't you ever disrespect her like that again, do you understand?" Jude got up in his face and yelled at him. He grabbed him by his shirt and dragged him out and threw him out on the concrete. He then walked over to you, who was standing near the stairs to go upstairs, a couple of feet from where it all happened.
"I'm so sorry he did that. Are you ok? Did he hurt you?" Jude said while examining you. You were completely unharmed, your wrist just hurt a little from the force used. Jude engulfed you in a hug and you rested your head in him.
"Thank you so much Jude, you have no idea how much this means to me" You said to him and you hugged him.
"You don't have to thank me for protecting you. It comes with the territory"
"I love you, Jude"
"I love you too y/n"
You both went back up to your room and continued to spend time together watching tv. Even though your last relationship caused confusion, you knew that now people would agree that you two were prefect together.
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Thank you for reading! I also wanted to let you guys know I am taking requests in case you guys wanted to send some in! also lmk If you guys think I should write about some other ppl
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stevesjockstrap · 2 months ago
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kinktober 3: Steve/Eddie & voice kink
Rated E • no UD, modern era, sex worker Eddie, phone sex, slight feminization, dom!Eddie (no one’s surprised)
For @lawrencebshoggoth 😘😏
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Steve was grocery shopping, trying to decide what he wants to meal prep for the week. When a warm sensation floods his belly, his dick hardening in his slacks. The fuck?
Searching around him, he can’t figure out what is happening. Why is his body reacting like this to salad?
A voice from the next aisle finally registers to him.
“No, Chrissy! I’m not letting you set up my uncle with random women for your sick amusement!”
At first he can’t place the voice, but his now fully hard dick knows it instantly.
“Oh fuck,” Steve mumbles. He leaves his cart and races to the front door before he’s aware of what he’s doing.
In his beemer, he takes deep breaths, trying to calm his racing heart and the throbbing between his legs.
It had started as a misclick on his favorite site, a happy accident. Steve had never ventured into spicy audios before, but soon he was addicted and the velvety voice of PuppetMaster was his go-to way of getting off.
The knowledge that this person who had become one of his only sexual fantasies was out there and close by had Steve feeling ashamed yet unbelievably turned on. He took a paid day from work and spent a lot of time … taking care of himself.
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“That’s it, baby. Look so good all spread out for me. Oh, fuck,” the strangers deep voice rolled across him as he fucked into his fist.
It felt more dirty now, the humiliation factor ratcheting up as he listened. The fact that there was a real person to complete the fantasy made it even more tantalizing.
He couldn’t even tell anyone about it. At work he felt like his skin was too tight, the lights too bright.
After a very long week, Steve didn’t know what to do. He felt like he was going to shake out of his skin. The audios weren’t enough anymore. His brain cycled through versions of the man speaking, but couldn’t land on one. He would get so obsessed about trying to think of a face that he couldn’t finish.
A few beers later, Steve found himself blindly searching the name online.
He almost dropped his phone when a TikTok account popped up.
This definitely didn’t help matters. But his dick was back on board. The man was beautiful, much more so than his meager imagination could come up with. The long wavy hair, big brown eyes. His lips.
He’d snuck his hand down before he realized. Then he froze. Was this too far? Jerking it to this stranger’s social media?
There weren’t a lot of videos, and he was irritated to find that the man wasn’t using his own voice, mostly lip syncing popular sounds. Scrolling down, his thumb found an earlier video. It was a comical thirst trap set up, but the way the man’s arms came up to grab the top of the doorframe showing off his tattooed biceps and ribs, the way his eyes darkened as he swept his gaze down the camera made his breath catch.
Steve let the video loop until he came twice.
Then a message slid down from the top of the page. With the man’s tiny circle face.
Hey there
Oh no. How had this happened?
He swiped back to the video and realized not only had he followed the page, in his exuberance he’d spammed that video with emojis.
It occurred to him that he could just ignore it. Delete the message, his account, the app, never have to think about this again.
But his stupid dick had him going back to the man’s page. His profile didn’t give much information. But there was a link.
“Holy shit,” Steve gasped as the page loaded.
He had never allowed himself to explore OnlyFans, given his track record with this new addiction. He didn’t understand most of the jargon he was skimming over, but it hit him that there was an untapped treasure trove of content from this man who had been the source of all of his recent orgasms.
He subscribed and didn’t blink at whatever dollar amount was charged.
Then he got a second message.
PuppetMaster: You work fast, pretty
His brain helpfully supplied the voice and the face to go along with it and his dick stirred. The way this stranger had overhauled his body should be concerning. But all he could do now was go along with it.
Steve clicked on the notification and tried to come up with something to say.
PuppetMaster: Oh, now he’s shy
PuppetMaster: I don’t want to scare you away
He gulped, then started typing.
SteveH1102: You’re not going to scare me away. But I might scare you
PuppetMaster: Oh?
PuppetMaster: Cute little thing like you? I doubt it
Steve smiled in spite of himself.
SteveH1102: I’ve, let’s say, enjoyed your work that I’ve found elsewhere but just discovered your actual page
His heart was beating so fast, his anxious energy didn’t allow him to keep laying across his couch. He got up to pace around his apartment.
PuppetMaster: Well that’s not scary. I’m glad you found your way to me
“Christ,” Steve whispered.
SteveH1102: The thing is, you aren’t from around Indianapolis, are you?
There was a longer pause between messages now, and he was waiting for some notification that he was blocked or otherwise in trouble. He grabbed another beer from the fridge and drank half of it in a long pull.
PuppetMaster: Maybe I didn't give you enough credit, handsome. That would send chills up anyone’s spine
SteveH1102: I’m sorry, I probably could’ve worded it better. I’m sort of drinking. I’m pretty sure I overheard you on the phone at the grocery store and well, recognized your voice
A thought popped into his head. Without allowing the man to respond, he started typing again.
SteveH1102: This is actually you, right? Not like an assistant or like a catfish situation?
PuppetMaster: It’s all me, baby. It’s cute you think I’m big enough to have outsourced my porn site
SteveH1102: Could we video call?
He blinked as he realized he sent it. Counted to thirty and still didn’t have a response.
SteveH1102: I’d pay for your time, or however this works. Of course
There was a pop-up requiring some more details from him and a payment that he quickly clicked through.
“Oh, fuck,” Steve breathed as he stared at the live video. The other man was smart enough to throw a light on, and was either on a computer or had turned his phone sideways.
“Same to you. Your profile picture doesn’t do you justice.”
It was definitely him, and getting to watch the voice he’d become addicted to come from those lips made chills travel down his body.
Steve huffed a laugh, walking quickly back over to his couch next to the only lamp that was on. When he’d dropped down onto a rough throw pillow he also remembered he’d taken his shirt off.
“You gunna give me a show, handsome? Getting comfy?”
Steve tried to bite back the moan that escaped, he really did. Maybe this hadn’t been a good idea after all.
“Why not? I’m having fun.”
He gaped at the smirk across the beautiful face and winced as he realized he’d spoken that aloud.
“Convinced it’s me, yet? Are you going to tell me what you were thinking when you put all kinds of heart eyes on my TikTok?”
Steve knew this teasing commanding tone and wasn’t surprised when his cock started filling again.
“I didn’t mean to, ma- um, it was a mistake. I was-”
He received a low growl and a full mischievous grin.
“It’s Eddie, by the way. But you can call me master if you want. I’ll let you know if you do anything I don’t like, and I’d appreciate if you’d do the same.”
“Oh my god.” Steve felt way too in over his head to have this conversation.
“So your hand just slipped,” Eddie continued, ignoring him. There was a low chuckle, and his face got bigger in the screen. “Were you doing something naughty, pretty boy?”
Steve whined and his hips jolted on their own accord.
“I think that’s a yes, then. Is there somewhere you can prop your phone up, Stevie? So I can see you better? And you don’t have to hold it?”
He blinked, unsure of what was happening, but then searched around quickly. He set his beer bottle down on the coffee table and stuck his phone in front of it. It was a bit of an awkward angle, but Eddie hummed at him.
“There’s a good boy. Still got your work pants on? Came home all stressed and decided to come look for me?”
He dug his fingers into his thighs to keep from dipping his hand into his pants.
“E-eddie,” he gasped.
Eddie clicked his tongue at him. “Now, now, pretty. We both know that’s not what you want to call me. Go ahead, try again.”
Steve had a silent war with himself while they stared at each other.
“Or we could talk about the weather, or music or whatever,” Eddie teased.
He giggled, and his mouth betrayed him again. “I would probably get off just from that anyways.”
Eddie’s face brightened and he laughed, low and filthy. “Oh yeah? Maybe we’ll try that sometime. C’mon, show me. Let me see you.”
He groaned, covering his face instead.
“Don’t you dare.” Eddie’s hardened voice had him moving his hands instantly. “What a good boy you are for me. Now, I’m sure you wanna come as much as I do- uh huh, now we’ve got his attention. Slide those expensive pants down.”
Steve swallowed hard, raising his hips as he wiggled out of his slacks.
Eddie yanked his shirt off quickly, like he wasn’t willing to miss a second of Steve. It sent an even more powerful wave of warmth through him. He was lightly muscled, but most of his chest and arms were covered with dark ink. Steve wanted to lick every inch.
“Please,” he whined.
“I know, baby. We’re getting there. You look so good, all desperate and writhing.”
It was so close to his favorite audios that he gasped.
“Ohhh, so that’s what you’ve been enjoying, Stevie? Those do seem to get spread far and wide. Speaking of… why don’t you lose your panties, honey. Let me see all of you.”
The word panties almost had him coming already, the humiliation burning in his belly. Biting his lip, he pulled the waistband of his briefs down, quickly leaning back at Eddie’s snapped fingers when he blocked the camera.
“Well, big boy, now what should we do about that?”
His dick was, predictably, hard and dripping. Again. He would’ve been impressed by his refraction period if he wasn’t literally following directions from this sex god.
Steve couldn’t speak as he realized Eddie had also stripped, but he was keeping below his belly button out of camera view as his hand moved.
“Really glad you found me tonight, pretty boy. Look at you,” Eddie purred.
He couldn’t keep his hand from sliding down his length, and the deep groan that burst out from him.
Neither of them said anything as they soaked in the view and each other’s noises, but Steve couldn’t hold back the whine at Eddie’s growled, “Hands off.”
His dick twitched against his belly as he stared almost unseeingly at his phone. Eddie still kept his own hands and dick out of view. He was suddenly more desperate to see Eddie’s hands working himself over than coming.
“Please,” he croaked. “Eddie- I need-”
“You can wait,” Eddie responded coolly.
“No, please. Can I see you? Wanna see your cock!”
The moan from his phone made him shiver, but he wasn’t prepared for the sinful look that spread across Eddie’s face.
“Oh yeah? More than you want to touch yourself?”
Steve whimpered but nodded.
“You’re so precious, Stevie. Say it again.”
The order made more precome slide down his dick and he clenched his hands in the cushion under him. “Please let me see you, Eds? Please?”
Eddie reached up and did something to make the angle different. “Such nice begging, baby.”
He licked his lips unconsciously, thinking about how full his mouth would be with that thick cock shoved into it.
“Gods, your mouth, Stevie. I stared so hard at those lips in your picture. They’d look so good stretched around me.”
Eddie was apparently a talker, while Steve only managed to whimper and try to keep his hands away from his persistent problem.
“Being so good for me, pretty. I want to bite those moles on your thigh. No, don’t hide. You’re fucking delicious, Stevie.”
Eddie’s hand quickened, twisting around the head. “You want my come so bad, don’t you slut?”
He could only whine and nod, sliding further down the couch as if he could get physically closer for him.
“Want it in your mouth? Or across your tits?”
Steve gasped and closed his eyes against the burn of humiliation that almost had him coming apart.
Eddie hummed. “Yeah, rub it into your chest hair and down to your pretty cock.”
He opened his eyes in time to watch Eddie grunt, mesmerized as his muscles bunched and he threw his head back as he came hard. His head shot up at Steve’s small, “Oh, oh, oh fuck!”
He’d never come untouched before.
Gasping, rocking through the aftershocks as he came down, he nervously looked back at Eddie. The look of pure want and fire in his eyes made him groan softly.
“So, Stevie, what was it you said about living in the area?”
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calqlate · 4 months ago
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THE LOVE & DEEPSPACE MLS AND THEIR KDRAMA ML COUNTERPARTS
INCLUDES: rafayel + sylus + xavier + zayne
WARNING(S): might be ooc bc i don't really keep up with the lore so there might be some inconsistencies (oops) (pls be gentle) (it's 10pm here and my brain is running on adrenaline) + contains some canon lore drops ig
MASTERLIST
NOTE(S): i will never stop inserting my fandoms into kdramas bc i love seeing worlds collide. anw pls partake in this brainrot with me 🤩
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— RAFAYEL
ryu sunjae from lovely runner - they are both absolute losers for their respective lovers. i can picture rafayel in that one scene where sunjae was blowing kisses towards sol's house. no matter how hard his beloved tries to cut him out from their life to save him, he will always find his way back into their life.
jeong guwon from my demon - similar to sunjae, guwon is also another loser for his wife. (tbh i can imagine rafayel as a down bad simp for his lover; cue thomas sighing and shaking his head.) i can picture rafayel in the scene whereby guwon and dohee were doing that tango while fighting off their enemies too?!?!
lee yeon from tale of the nine-tailed - continuing the loser boy train, we have yeon as the final dude to add in this group. (specifically yeon from s2, bc the way he wanted to go back to his timeline so badly to see jiah matches rafayel's "the only person i'll ever love is my lover" energy.) their backstories also match in the sense that yeon never stopped searching for jiah and rafayel never stopped waiting for his bride.
— SYLUS
myulmang from doom at your service - not me choosing myulmang bc they both made contracts to their beloveds [clown emoji]. but nonetheless they're similar in the sense that they won't think twice about eliminating someone who hurts their lover.
shin wooyeo from my roommate is a gumiho - again, another contract situation. wooyeo is a "classier" version of sylus imo, and one who uses less pet names. if sylus were the ml in this kdrama, he would defo keep an even more watchful eye on his beloved so that she doesn't go about losing his fox bead. (aur naur iw to write a gumiho au for sylus now...)
lee youngjoon from what's wrong with secretary kim? - similar to youngjoon, sylus will never let his lover leave. they want to leave his mansion? he will try 101 (legal) ways to make them stay. they will find snacks they like in their room more often. they will find new (and expensive) clothes in their wardrobe. heck, even an all-expenses-paid vacation! he wants to keep them close to him; he's afraid of them upping him to leave.
— XAVIER
goo yeonjun from a time called you - like yeonjun, xavier has literally went back in time to save his beloved. he wants to see then safe and sound, and as long as they're happy, he's happy. as long as they're alive and breathing, he's fine with not being by their side. just watching them live their life is enough for him.
haru from extraordinary you - totally not projecting my all-time fav kdrama on him (or am i?) but xavier and haru have similar mannerisms and personality traits. yk how in the first few episodes danoh was dragging haru around and this guy just remained silent and followed along until one day he just started speaking? yeah that's the same with this guy. the person he likes could yap all day and he would willingly sit and listen.
moon seoha from see you in my 19th life - similar to seoha, xavier loves once in his life and he will only ever love his little star. he would never get over their death and if he's the one responsible for their death, he would be all the more upset with himself. he would throw himself into work all day and refuse to love again, thinking he shouldn't be able to fall in love ever again since he took his beloved's one chance of staying alive and happy away.
— ZAYNE
moon suho from black knight - they're both so overprotective of the one they love. the way suho essentially told sharon that haera is the only woman he would ever love is something i can picture zayne doing. if someone is out there trying to harm his beloved, you'd best believe zayne would do his best to prevent that from happening, even if it means giving up his own life.
lee suhyeok from bora! deborah - when zayne loves, he loves hard. like suhyeok, he's clumsy at expressing his affections, choosing to keep everything to himself and wait until he's 100% certain it's the right time to say whatever he wants to say. and sometimes, that can lead to disastrous endings (see also: suhyeok getting dumped on the same day he went to buy an engagement ring for his girlfriend). both men are careful to a fault, all the more so with their beloved because they're scared of losing someone precious to them again.
yoo jihyuk from marry my husband - zayne, like jihyuk, would willingly stand aside and watch the one he loves fall in love with someone else. he would be supportive and wouldn't try to fight for their affection. his motto is "if they're happy, i'm happy" and he can live being an unmarried old man as long as he sees them happy.
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© CALQLATE. all rights reserved. please do not copy, modify, repost, or translate my works on any platform.
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lovisyandereblog · 8 days ago
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Yan!Android × Creator!Darling- I just can't get it out my mind... like, you created them. You're ✨️god✨️
I can keep going on this idea for a looong time, maybe next time haha
My English might not be the best, not my native language :D May I be the ⚜️Anon?
Wired Heart
Yandere Android X NON-BINARY Creator [Scientist] Reader
Part 1 <3
Guys big shout out to whoever wrote this ask cause it was one of the first asks I got and I kept postponing it, i love this ask smmmmm i hope its up to your expectations😭😭 and of course you can be ⚜️anonnnn IT TOOK ME FIVE WHOLE MINUTES TO FIND THIS EMOJI!!!!
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The whirring of the machinery snapped you out of your thoughts.
Who knew building such an intricate and sophisticated robot took so long?
Sitting before you on your laboratory table was a beautiful android, so gorgeous it almost surprised you that you were its creator. Its jet black hair was soft to the touch, a lean yet muscular frame and those glowing red eyes.
You smile to yourself, hands on your hips as you admire your own creation; he was indeed beautiful.
‘Time to turn it on! Im so excited!’ You thought to yourself, wiping the sweat of your forehead.
You brought your finger to its power button, taking a deep breath before pressing it promptly.
Its bright red eyes opened immediately, you stared at it excitedly as it adjusted to its controls.
“Greetings Master. It’s lovely to finally meet you.” The AI spoke, smiling gently as its smooth voice filled the room.
“Hello Xander, the feeling is mutual.” You smile and can’t stop revelling in the glory of bringing to life such an intricate robot.
Xander was an amazing assistant for you, always there to help with any duty assigned to him. His features, expressions and ministrations were so life-like, sometimes you felt as if the robot in front of you was real.
He was the first prototype for the business you were aiming to start: a company which sold human-like AI to act as partners for lonely people.
An inquisitive idea you were taking advantage of since, let’s face it, millions of people craved a partner in this world.
Your robots would do everything a real partner would do: shower them with affection, spend quality time with them and basically ensure the customer doesn’t feel like it was a robot.
Weeks passed, you felt weary. There was always this feeling in your stomach; something was wrong. You felt a pair of eyes piercing through your skull all of the time. Your creation had been acting weird recently; almost as if it became a sentient being.
Xander would want to be with you 24/7, he would ask constant questions in regards to where you were going, who you were with and how long you were going to be; it became immensely suffocating.
Even your friends and family commented on the nature of your robot, that he seemed more than just your AI helper. They said at time it seemed as though he actually was your real human boyfriend—you kept brushing it off, but the truth of the matter was that you were questioning Xander’s intentions too.
Your robot did take care of you so well: cooking for you, cleaning for you, nursing you back to health when you were sick and tending to your every beck and call.
But you felt uneasy, his touch would linger on you for far too long—not a random touch but one of longing. The way his eyes would follow your every move with were a sense of affection. It was scary.
And thats why you took the long-awaited decision to terminate Xander—it broke your heart to do this, but Xander was taking control of your whole life.
You swallow as you walk into your workspace, looking at Xander on charging. His eyes were closed, hiding that crimson gaze of his. Your eyes ran all over his features, taking them in one by one before sighing.
Your hands worked skilfully on the keyboard of your computer, bringing up the data of Xander on the screen. You had already made a terminate control to be used in dire emergency situations…could this count as one?
You turn your head to look at the side of Xander’s face before bringing the cursor to hover over the big red control which read TERMINATE.
Your finger was inches away from pressing down on the left side of the mouse before a sharp pain evolved in your wrist—you gasped in pain before looking up at the cause.
Xander. Wait…Xander?!
Those bloodshot eyes of his were wide open, his perfect features looked tense; as if he really felt the pain of being eradicated from existence from the very being who gave him life.
You had no words, this can’t be real. He had no control over gaining consciousness during his charging period without your authority.
But here he was, his expression morphed into one of rage.
“Master. What are you doing?” His voice was cold, but you swore you could hear a hint of hurt.
You stared up at him, your wrist in an iron grip which you couldn’t get out of.
Your creation leaned down further, his perfect face inches away from you, “Do not ignore me Master, you are hurting me.”
His voice was broken, hoarse and upset; he couldn’t fathom why you would do something like this to him. He had been so good for you, he did everything you asked from him and never let you complain.
Xander felt his chest hurt, this wasn’t what he was created for. But he couldn’t help what was happening to him; his growing feelings, no, love and obsession he felt for you couldn’t be stopped.
“X-Xander you..you…you’re..h-how..” You could barely form a sentence, your brain still not processing what was happening in front of you. You must have just been sleep-deprived and imagined this situation for yourself. Yes..that was definitely what had happened…this wasn’t real.
“Im yours Master, how could you throw me away like this?!”
You had no words when suddenly he wrapped his arms around you, locking you in his arms; being made of metal still didn’t stop his hug being disturbingly comfortable.
You tried pushing away but there was no way you could escape his grip, you had taken over his wired heart; the sole reason from these unusual feelings he was having.
“You made me Master, but I won’t let you get rid of me.” He spoke, his voice slightly muffled by your shoulder he was nuzzling into, “We will be together…”
“Forever~”
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BROOOO IM FINALLY DONEEEEE. Sorry this is so short, I still don’t know how to extend this but im working on other stories aswell!! I love you all so much and have missed you<33333333333
my masterlist <3
divider by @ohmarigold
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eoieopda · 4 months ago
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FINE I'M HERE TO REQUEST PART 3!!! In which Chan better really GET that promotion!!!!!!! Contract signed, payroll amended!!!!!
You can make it angsty if you like, AS LONG AS you promise there will be a happy ending (in this part or........ Another 👀)
the one with chan and the promotion (iii)
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you needed a ride home after getting your wisdom teeth removed. chan just so happened to be free. now, being free is the last thing he wants.
part i. part ii.
pairing: bang chan x reader au: fuck buddies to lovers, hurt/comfort type: drabble (angst, fluff) rating: 18+ | minors do not have my consent to interact with me and/or my content. wc: 3.1k cw: mad!chan makes a brief appearance but otherwise remains the best boy; gn!reader (no gendered language used); reader may or may not show some degree of emotional availability (gasp!); due to the nature of their relationship, sex is referenced but not actually depicted; very briefly/incompletely edited, oops. a/n: i love you completely and am so fucking sorry it took four (4) months for me to finish this 😵‍💫 i have an epilogue i can offer in penance, if you want it! everyone else, please read the first two parts before reading this!
Chan may be an idiot, but at least he’s self-aware.
He knew it was a bad idea to get his hopes up; to expect that things would change quickly between you, if at all. Even though he saw the letdown coming from a kilometer away, he didn’t do a thing to brace himself for it. It’s his fault, he knows, for exaggerating his place in your life — but that doesn’t make the disappointment bruise any less when the week after your wisdom teeth removal flies by in radio silence.
The lack of conversation isn’t for lack of trying. As he scrolls through your half-vacant text thread now, Chan feels all his efforts staring back at him. All those attempted check-ins marked delivered but not well-received. Swings and misses.
Prior to sending each one of them, he spent minutes upon minutes agonizing over the tone — and the use of emojis — and the possible implications of the proposed emojis — and the fear that he’d just come off clingy, not invested. Reading the finished versions back now, he can recall with perfect accuracy the drafts he typed out and immediately, feverishly deleted. Considering the way they litter his brain, there may as well be a trail of crumpled-up notes in all that metadata.
Does it make Chan cringe to look back and watch himself flatline? Absolutely.
Does that stop him from salting his own wounds? Nope. It never has and likely never will.
Maybe, he figures, he’ll spot where he went wrong and find a way to un-dig this ditch he’s seemingly made.
[Sent 2024/7/23, 15:22] Just got home. Have you fallen back asleep already? Lol 
Naver says your swelling might be kind of bad tomorrow. Do you need ice packs? I have the gel kind that you can mold. Might be more comfortable than a bag of ice cubes 🤔 Lmk!
[Sent 2024/7/25, 08:03] Hi, Hamtori 🐹 How are your cheeks?
I made too much gamjaguk again. I can drop some off if
[Sent 2024/7/26, 17:49] Graduate to solid foods yet?
I hope the antibiotics aren’t making your stomach upset
DON’T LAUGH but I made you a super chill Spotify playlist with healing vibes to
Idk if you remember, but I promised to take you out for pork belly next week. If you’re up for it, are you free on
I miss y
[Sent 2024/7/29, 00:16] Hey
Or maybe, he thinks, he’ll just beat his head against his bedroom wall instead; and eventually, he’ll forget what it felt like to be yours for the day, rather than a night.
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Four more days pass without a word from you. Under normal circumstances, one of you would’ve invited the other over at least twice in the eleven days since your dental appointment. No matter how infrequently the two of you chatted outside of your recurrent trysts, neither one of you has ever gone this long without summoning the other.
Something is wrong.
At this point, Chan sees two explanations for the way you’ve fallen completely off the grid: you’ve either succumbed to some tragic, post-op. complication and died, or he’s irreparably fucked something up with you without knowing how or when he misstepped. Neither one of those is an outcome he’s willing to accept. 
The voice in his head nags him so forcefully and consistently that his body eventually gives in. Undeterred by his better judgment, Chan lets it guide him up, out, and onward until he winds up on the sidewalk outside his building.
On the walk to your apartment, he mulls over the foreseeable consequences of the actions he’s already set in motion. It’s certifiably insane to pop in you like this, and once again, he only sees two options: you’ll slam the door in his face, or he’ll confirm once and for all that you’ve left this mortal coil. Bad on all counts, really, but anything is better than nothing.
His timing, as it turns out, couldn’t be better. Right as he lands at the front door, when he needs to think of a way to get in without buzzing you, a neighbor he’s seen once or twice before opens it to leave. Politely, they hold it open for him, likely mistaking him for someone with any right to be there — someone whose proximity to you actually makes sense. Chan thanks them with a nod of his head and a sheepish smile before slipping through the opening.
As the elevator ascends, his fingers move of their own accord, anxiously tapping out a rhythm on the stainless steel wall he leans against. Every worst-case scenario flashes through his mind. There’s a flash of something else there, too, though. Something even more nerve-wracking than all his catastrophizing; something that makes his stomach flip.
Hope.
“Oi, none of that,” he mutters to himself.
It doesn’t work. When Chan approaches the doors in the second before they open, he makes eye contact with his reflection and sees that easy, ill-advised smile creeping up on him.
As he exits that giant metal box, he shakes his head with an anxious laugh. If he’s this embarrassed by himself when he’s alone, the chances of him living through the way you’re about to look at him are…
Well…
Abysmal.
But that doesn’t stop him from powering his way down the hall towards your door. Coincidentally, neither does the fact that he doesn’t have a plan for what he’ll do when he reaches it.
Figuring knocking is as good a start as any, that’s precisely what Chan does, shifting his weight from one foot to the other to appear more nonchalant. 
Then, he waits.
And then, he waits some more.
After thirty seconds pass without a response, Chan knocks again, carefully balancing the weight of his fist against it so the sound of it isn’t too assertive — or too eager — or too desperate — or —
“Left about an hour ago,” a voice says from a few meters away.
Chan turns towards the sound. Several units down, an old woman’s head pokes out of an open doorway. He can’t tell if she’s intentionally frowning at him or if it’s the weight of her jowls pulling the corners of her mouth down. Either way, it feels bad.
Running an anxious hand over the back of his increasingly warm neck, he coughs, “Oh?”
The ajumma clicks her tongue disapprovingly. “You young people never put those cell phones down and yet you still wind up like this.” She works herself up further; her nostrils flare as she rambles, “In my day, it was rude to show up unannounced. We called ahead, and when we called ahead, people were there to answer the door.”
Chan isn’t above arguing with some personified wrinkle, but he likes to think you would be. Even though you’re not here to witness it, it feels important to be the person you might like him to be. 
So, he bites his tongue. 
He nods yet again with a polite smile.
He turns on his heels.
And when he shuffles back towards the elevator, there’s a hell of a lot less of a spring in his step.
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Two days go by after Chan’s little fieldtrip. Just like the previous several, they slip away quietly. This time, however, he doesn’t check-in — doesn’t type out his thoughts just to immediately erase them; doesn’t stare at his phone and wait to prove it to himself that it won’t chime.
Lesson learned, really.
It was a bad idea to bet the house on maybes. He knew it on the front end and still chose optimism; now, it serves him right. Played stupid games and won stupid prizes, as you like to say. If only he could stop thinking about what you like to say and instead focus on the fact that you haven’t said anything at all.
Chan grits his teeth and tries hard to focus on the game lighting up his monitor. Whatever Yongbok talked him into playing doesn’t make him feel any better about fumbling you — in fact, it’s proving to be yet another thing he’s terrible at — but it’s sufficiently distracting to have his friends swearing each other up and down in their Discord voice channel.
Actually, he stands corrected. This is also terrible, albeit a different flavor of garbage than his hopeless mooning over you.
Maybe radio silence is better.
As soon as that thought crosses his mind, his phone buzzes against the surface of his desk — three long taps bookended by three short ones. 
Before Chan reaches for it, he lets the poetry of it all sink in. SOS, his phone declares whenever you text him. Originally, although he’ll never fucking tell you so, he chose that text tone because hearing from you salvaged his day, every time. Now, it reminds him that he’s in over his head with no life preserver in sight.
Not bad, he thinks. He should write that bit down in the notebook of lyrics he ruminates over but never puts to music, let alone shares.
The lack of action on his part prompts his phone to vibrate again for emphasis. 
SOS!
Beaming white light bores into his retinas when he finally opens his inbox, and Chan refuses to think about the million times you’ve told him to switch to dark mode or the infinitely-brighter shit he’s been roasting under since he started this game several hours back. All he thinks about instead is the first grey text in an ocean of blue:
[2024/8/04, 23:37] you up?
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You tilt your head to the side, smiling coyly when you crack open the door and find Chan standing on your doorstep with his hood up and hands in his pockets. Outside the windows behind you, the downpour he just trudged through continues to dampen his mood.
“Fancy meeting you here,” you lilt, like nothing has changed at all.
That’s the problem, isn’t it?  
Chan lifts his chin slightly as some half-assed nod to let you know that his ears work, if nothing else. Either missing his stony expression or ignoring it, you simply open the door wider, beckoning him to follow you with a gentle wave of your free hand.
He wants so badly to smile back at you as easily as you smile at him — really, he does, but fuck, he can’t make his face do anything but harden.
Once he toes off his shoes, he expects you to lead him straight to your room — or your couch — or any of the other various surfaces the pair of you have misappropriated along the way. You don’t, though. With your lips pensively pursed, you shuffle a bit closer; and as soon as you can reach him properly, you raise both of your hands. One flattens against his now rain-soaked sweatshirt; the other goes for his zipper, tugging gently until there’s nothing left to hold him together.
Carefully, Chan eyes you; watches while you slip the fabric off his shoulders, as if it isn’t twice as heavy as it was when he put it on. Like it’s easy, you turn away, open the nearby closet, and toss that wet mess into the top-half of your standing washer-dryer.
“I think…” Your tiny, upward curve returns while your sentence peters out. Softly, you reach up and brush a damp curl off his forehead. “An umbrella would be a worthwhile investment.”
He should join in on the bit. He should banter right back. He should smile, too — for fuck’s sake — because you’re finally right here. You’re talking to him within touching distance, radiating warmth he wants to live in, and he should touch you the way you want to be touched — the way you summoned him here to touch you.
He should do a lot of things, none of which include snapping at you, and yet —
“Why the hell am I here?”
It catches you both off-guard. You, because Chan has never once spoken to you any other way but kindly. Him, because you don’t actually look all that surprised by the sentiment, even if the presentation isn’t what you expected.
Somehow, that’s the thing that stings the most; not the way your face falls at his gruffness but the inkling you must have had before you asked him over that things between you aren’t sitting right at all.
Chan doesn’t get a response, so he asks another way: “Did you notice all of those unanswered texts when you sent yours, or did you ignore them all over again?”
It dawns on you — and him too, if he’s being honest — that you’ve still got your hands resting delicately on his chest. You reel your arms back in and cross them, not defiantly but diminutively. You shrink right in front of him; and regret hits him like a fist to the side of his skull.
“I didn’t know what to do with them.” Your head lowers while you do your best to look anywhere else.
That’s —
“Bullshit. I’m sorry, but it’s really not hard to keep up a conversation, especially when someone is just asking how you’re feeling.” Instantly he feels terrible for snapping. Softening his tone slightly, he sighs, “I know you know how.”
You look up at him without tilting your head much at all. Peering over that brick wall of yours, he figures. “That’s the thing, though. I don’t know.”
The face he pulls must convey what he’s thinking: Are you fucking kidding me? But you’re quick to prevent him from jumping to any further-out conclusions, amending, “I don’t know how I feel.”
Chan opens his mouth to respond, then thinks better of it. It’s rare for you to open up to the extent you might be about to; and it’s a miracle that you might be willing to now, given the fact that he’s come at you blindly at 160 kilometers per hour.
“I don’t like needing people.” 
Your attention is drawn to your fidgeting fingers and the drawstring of the sweatpants they occupy themselves with. The overwhelming urge he feels to grab them, to hold them still, goes ignored and makes his own hands tense. He focuses hard on your face instead; the crease between your eyebrows while you plot out your next steps.
“I didn’t want to need you, but then I did need you — and you just… you came, no questions asked.” You laugh, either despite your visible discomfort or because of it. “Held my hand and all that, didn’t just drop me on the curb and say, hit me up when you’re down again.”
Chan feels as if he’s been punched, although it’s not offense he takes from your statement. Judging by that flicker of hurt in your eyes, the expectation you had wasn’t for him, personally. It was history. 
You shift where you stand from one foot to another, like that weight on your shoulders is changing. He doesn’t know if it’s getting heavier or lighter until you finally lift your chin to look at him squarely. 
“It scared the shit out of me, honestly — how easy you are to need — so, I did what I always do: I bailed.” Sighing, you finally seem to register how much anxiety you’re holding in your hands. You drop it, then drop them to your sides. “But I think I’ve figured it out.”
You smile slightly, and suddenly, he feels lighter. “I’ve been conflating them, but they’re completely different things, aren’t they?”
Chan arches an eyebrow. Truly, he’s at a loss. He can’t predict which direction you’re about to turn in. Seeming to sense this, you answer his unasked question, “Wanting to need you and wanting you.”
While this makes his brain pause, his body moves. Cautiously, he steps forward and watches you counter him until your back is flush against the wall behind you. 
“Can I have a definition, then, please?” He pleads, voice low, while his hands gently claim your hips. “Because I thought it was want behind the booty call that brought me here, and I don’t want to find myself on a completely different page again.”
You link your arms around his neck and eye him carefully. “It was,” you acknowledge with a small nod. “Different kind, though — a shallow one.”
Chan finds his mouth curving up at the corner, all on its own. His gaze drops from yours to your lips, then back again. It’d be so easy to kiss you now, but he can’t unless he gets some sort of confirmation. “We’re in the deep end now, then?”
“Moving that way, at least. I spook easily, though…” You’d probably love nothing more than to look away when you admit that bit out loud, but to your credit, you don’t. Instead, you run your fingernails softly through the hair at his nape. “I’m not entitled to any more of your patience, but would you be willing to take it one day at a time?”
Chan wishes that he’d at least pretended to consider this. He doubts you’ve ever had a vision of him as someone nonchalant — in fact, he’s the poster boy for chalance in whichever reality that word exists — but it would’ve been infinitely cooler of him not to respond immediately and wholeheartedly with a rushed sigh, “Fuckin’ right, I am,” before leaning in to kiss you absolutely stupid.
Whatever gratification he can’t find by licking into the mouth you open eagerly for him, he finds in the way you keen when he presses his body more fully against yours. The payoff is even better when he stops short, divorcing your respective lips entirely.
“I’m not gonna fuck you,” he announces, breathless. His grin widens; meanwhile, your eyebrows shoot up your forehead. “No! Not, like, never — I don’t have that kind of resolve — but not tonight.”
The sudden switch makes you dizzy. Thankfully, it makes you laugh, too. 
“Don’t tell me you just want to enjoy my company,” you warn. You attempt to say it earnestly, but a smile cracks you wide open. “I’m still too prone to bolt when I hear cute shit like that.”
Chan shakes his head. “No, I’m telling you to plant yourself on that couch —” He pulls his right hand off your left hip and gestures blindly over his shoulder. “I’m also telling you that I am getting takeout.”
You narrow your eyes in feigned suspicion. “I wonder what you could possibly be ordering.”
“Belated pork belly is better than no pork belly.” He narrows his eyes to mirror hours, then kisses you quickly, murmuring, “One for the road,” against your lips.
Then, he dashes off towards your front door. As he goes, he just barely catches you nagging him through your laughter:
“If you’re not going to wait for your sweatshirt, can you at least take an umbrella?”
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while likes are appreciated, comments/tags/reblogs with your thoughts are really what make my brain go brrrtt.
skz taglist. multi taglist. navigation.
due to tumblr being ass with tags lately, i’m going to be tagging people in the comments for the time being!
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skyewritesstuff · 1 year ago
Text
greedy | p. mellark
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my masterlist.
summary: after months of being in what you think is a situationship with peeta, you finally confront him about whether or not there's anything truly there or if you're just another girl who has fallen for his kindness and misinterpreted the signs.
pairing: peeta mellark x reader (college!au, fratboy!peeta if you squint)
fandom: the hunger games
warnings: nothing too serious. implied nsfw at the end. afab reader. sorta ooc peeta...it's mostly environmental because we all know peeta's a flirt.
notes: based on greedy by tate mcrae even though the verse at the end gives me everlark vibes. also, this has been beta read. :)
word count: 2.8k
He’s here. Are you coming?
You looked at the blue and gray text thread, Clove’s name, and contact picture with a little clover emoji sitting right on top of it. A sigh escaped you as you looked up from your phone at the fraternity house that was positioned in front of you. You’d been leaning against the fencing that surrounded the yard for what felt like an hour, but in reality, it’d only been a few minutes.
As of late, facing Peeta Mellark has always been an unpredictable situation. While he was kind, polite, and charismatic, that charisma oftentimes led to him getting entangled metaphorically (at least you hoped) with other girls. You couldn’t tell if he didn’t know how to say no, was weighing out his options, or if he was what Clove often referred to as a “fuckboy”. 
Fuck it. You rolled your eyes, stuffed your phone into your jacket pocket, and made your way across the cement walkway leading to the house. Having second thoughts, you pulled your phone back out, pulling up the same conversation with Clove.
Is she here?
The person you were speaking of was none other than Katniss Everdeen. She was the most recent girl that Peeta had been hanging around with and was simultaneously the cause of your latest installment of confusion. According to some of your other friends, she’d been friends with Peeta for a while and the study date you ran up on in the library was nothing but a platonic catch-up amongst busy friends.
However, one Madge Undersee had more than the opposite to say. All it took was one group mirror shot in the bathroom at a nightclub posted on Instagram, featuring you and Peeta in the outskirts of the photo, his arm wrapped securely around your waist, for her to send you a heated DM saying that he and Katniss had been a thing for forever and that you were coming between them.
You very quickly sent back, “Funny how the alleged ‘other girl’ always gets shit while the dude gets to slide by.” with a sarcastically placed upside-down smiley that was left on read still to this day.
A typing bubble appeared in Clove���s thread.
I don’t think so!
You let out another sigh, relieved that for now, Katniss wasn’t a worry. You walked into the house, looking around. There was a cloud of smoke in the air, presumably from various substances and/or a smoke machine, and bright lights coming from various directions. You squinted, trying to make out anyone you knew, but specifically trying to find Clove.
“Hey!” The greeting was slurred, long, and drawn out as an arm was all but dropped onto your shoulders. Finnick Odair was standing beside you, laughing at what appeared to be nothing. Finnick was a grad student that you’d met while waiting in line for coffee, quickly discovering that you two had mutual connections.
“Y/N…Y/N…you look…beautiful, stunning, ravishing…Have you seen Annie?” 
You chuckled at how rapidly his thought process changed. “Nope, I just got here! Maybe try calling her?”
“Ha,” he let out, “I don’t…I don’t know her number…”
“But she should be in your… never mind, you’ll find her I’m sure.” you grinned, shaking your head.
“Alright, sweet!” Finnick started to walk away, but then quickly turned on his heel back to you, pointing in your direction.
“Almost forgot…Peeta’s looking for you!”
“What?”
The question was ignored as he walked away, approaching another male at the party the same way he’d approached you. Peeta was looking for you? Was he serious or just on another planet from the amount of alcohol in his system?
You kept maneuvering through the crowd, trying to locate the kitchen, knowing that’s where most of the snacks and drinks were. The kitchen also usually served as a good place to wait around if you were looking for someone. 
You pulled out your phone, shooting a text to Clove to meet you in the kitchen. You stared down at the screen, hoping for a speech bubble to pop up saying she was either on her way or giving you simple directions to wherever she was located. You then felt yourself collide with someone in a way that wasn’t painful, but most definitely was going to lead to an awkward exchange.
“Oh shit…I’m so sorry…”
You were met with blonde hair and a black hoodie and then a beautiful set of oh-too-familiar blue eyes.
“Don’t be!” Peeta smiled, “I was looking for you! I sent out Finnick to look for you and everything.”
You rolled your eyes with a smirk, “Well, you might want to find someone sober enough to complete the mission next time, just saying.”
“You are probably absolutely correct…but it’s fine. Why send someone else when it’s something you can do on your own way better, right?” he smiled, leaning on the wall, taking a sip from his cup, “Do you want something to drink?”
“What is that?” you gestured to the cup, raising a curious yet somewhat fearful eyebrow.
Peeta shrugged, “I think it’s some kind of jungle juice. The base has to be Hawaiian Punch because of the color if that helps.” He extended the cup towards you, “Want to see for yourself?”
You nodded and took the cup, taking a sip. It was definitely Hawaiian Punch, and it wasn’t as strong as you thought it would be, which could either be a help or a hindrance. 
“Pretty good, right?” he asked. You nodded in response, handing the cup back to him. “Do you want me to get you some of that…or I can try to mix you something myself?”
“Whatever that is, that’s fine.” you answered, following him over to a large orange Gatorade dispenser that had the word “NOT” written on a piece of tape, stuck above the label. You chuckled under your breath as you watched the blonde grab a cup, scoop out some ice, and then fill the drink. As he did this, you took the time to take in his appearance as your brain had been busy keeping up with the conversation instead of taking a good look at him.
He was in a black hoodie with a small logo on the chest; his blonde hair falling into his face a little. He also was wearing gray joggers with his university lanyard sticking out of the pocket, falling onto his leg with a pair of somewhat beaten-up sneakers. Despite his relaxed appearance, he looked put together. He looked good.
Peeta turned back to you, handing you the cup, which you took with a smile. “Do you wanna go somewhere quieter?” he asked, gesturing to the surroundings before refilling his cup.
Your stomach turned with nerves. He probably just meant to talk, but what if he didn't? You knew for a fact that your bra and underwear were not fancy, nor did they match, and you probably had the lowest body count in your friend group. You took a hard swallow.
“...To talk…” Peeta laughed, his tone sounding a little nervous as he scratched the back of his neck awkwardly and took a sip from his cup. The lights well-hid the red flush on his face.
“Oh…okay, yeah!” you laughed back, watching as he extended his hand. You took his hand, noticing how he immediately laced your fingers together as he walked you through the main hallway that you’d just walked through and up the stairs. 
Someone at a distance must’ve seen you both making your way upstairs, because someone wolf-whistled and then called Peeta’s name, causing him to sharply turn over his shoulder to try and identify the person. He quickly stuck his middle finger up at no one in particular, given the culprit was never identified, and then sped up a little as you both got up to the top of the stairs.
“I'm sorry. People are dumb and make ridiculous assumptions…like I’m really not trying to…”
“Peeta, it’s okay.” you reassured him, “If Clove had seen me, she probably would’ve been ten times worse and reminded me of one of her ridiculous tips to supposedly eliminate your gag reflex that she learned on TikTok.”
Peeta somewhat choked on the sip of his drink that he was taking, laughing at your comment, “Who said you couldn’t learn something off of the internet.”
He led you down a shorter hallway to a door. He knocked twice before opening it, finding it just as he must’ve left it, as you quickly put two-and-two together that this was his room. He shut and locked the door behind him, took another sip from his drink, and sat it on his bedside table before flopping on the bed as you leaned against the wall.
You took a big sip of your drink, hoping the alcohol kicked in sooner rather than later to get some control of the nerves that were bubbling up across your entire body. You watched as the blonde turned on his side and looked over at you.
“I'm not gonna bite, sweetheart…unless you’re into that.” 
You couldn’t refrain from rolling your eyes at his cheesy line before you walked over to sit your drink next to his. Then, you removed your jacket, hanging it from his footrest. Before you could even turn your attention back to him, you could feel his eyes on you. It was like he was bearing a hole into the exposed skin on your back that was left uncovered from your dress now that your denim jacket had been discarded.
When you turned back around, he rolled onto his back with his hands behind his head, smiling up at you. “You’re gorgeous.” 
It was spoken so matter-of-factly as if he was telling you the most basic of observations��as if it were obvious to anyone who looked at you. You could feel your chest swell slightly at his words. Your instinct was going to be to tell him to stop or to refute what he said, but you took a breath and let out a small, “Thank you” in response as you sat on the edge of his bed and then slowly inched your way back onto the bed, laying next to him.
The room was silent, aside from the bumping music that was playing behind the door and down the stairs, and your eyes were fixed on the ceiling fan, watching it spin to avoid meeting Peeta’s eyes, fearing the burning blush that would overtake your body if you did.
“What are you thinking about?” he asked, breaking that silence.
“Nothing…” It wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t the full truth either. You weren’t giving your full thought process to anything. Instead, your brain was in several places at once. You’d thought about the makeup tutorial you’d seen earlier set to the song that was playing downstairs. You’d thought about how close Peeta was to you. You’d also thought about Katniss and Peeta’s study “date” from a while back too.
“Baby, if something’s bothering you, you can tell me.” he said. You finally glanced over at him. He was on his side, facing you, leaning against one hand while the other played with his hoodie string.
Baby.
Before you could stop yourself, the bigger question tumbled out of your lips, “What’s up with you?”
His features scrunched together in confusion, “What do you mean?”
“You take me on dates. You kiss me. You hold my hand. You call me baby.” you paused, “But then, I see you at the library with Katniss Everdeen and I have one of her stupid little friends in my DMs accusing me of being a homewrecker because you have your arm around me in a photo I didn’t even post…and I’ve seen you talking to other girls too, Peeta. You do the same thing, leaning against the wall, standing close to them. You’re smiling and laughing and the girl is playing with her hair and laughing back at you. What is all of that? Am I just the one you know will answer your random texts and calls to hang out…go to the club… make out in your car? Am I some weird escape from reality like…who…”
You were quickly silenced by his lips on yours, one hand coming up to your cheek, pulling you in closer to him. It was almost second nature at this point and your body quickly betrayed you despite your frustrations and melted into the kiss as it deepened, your hand coming to rest on his ribcage, progressively snaking onto his back and then upwards into his blonde locks as he moved over top of you.
The motion of him nudging your leg with his knee so he could position himself knocked you back into reality like a harsh slap to the face. You put both hands onto his chest and applied just enough pressure to jerk him back into the present as well. He looked confused. His chest was rising and falling rapidly and his lips were slightly swollen.
“Did I do something?” 
You propped yourself up, causing him to move, rolling back onto his back, his arm dropping across his chest as he rather obviously tried to cool himself down. You sat up, looking down at Peeta, whose eyes met yours.
“You never answered my question.”
“Yes, I did.” He looked at you like you’d missed the most obvious sign in the universe, but you already knew he meant the kiss, and that was not the answer you were looking for.
You shook your head, “A kiss isn’t an answer. If anything, it just proves my point. I don’t understand you. You clearly, in some way, want me. So, what is it? Are you just playing the field…fucking a bunch of random girls…Are you in love with Katniss still?”
“Katniss?” Peeta looked like you’d slapped him clean across his handsome face.
“Yes, Katniss…” You repeated, glancing from him to the door, wondering if it’d just be better to get up and go home. You knew fully well that he’d follow you. There was no getting out of this.
“I get it. You’re hot. You’re nice. I genuinely don’t think you’d try to intentionally hurt anyone, but…”
“That’s it, right there.” He pointed toward you as you spoke, “You talk about me and my mixed signals…what is that? You go from basically saying I’m some piece of shit heartbreaker to saying I’d never hurt anyone. You do that a lot. You’ll go from dancing with me and kissing me…letting me hold you while you’re sleeping to acting completely disinterested in anything outside of a friendship. I’ve never dealt with anything like this before. Girls are usually pretty forward with me…regardless of whether I feel the same or not. I don’t know if it’s intentional…like you think it’ll make me want you more or what, but it’s driving me crazy. Other girls may want me...I don't know for sure, but I know for sure that I want you, not them. I’m trying my best to show you that…but you just keep pushing me away and I wish you’d stop.”
Your eyes dropped to the floor, suddenly hyper-aware of a scuff on the toe of your boots. Your heart pounded as you tried to process what he’d said. He was usually so confident and sure in his abilities to keep sucking you back in, but the wavering tones in his voice indicated otherwise. He was serious.
You turned back to him, “I…I like you a lot…a lot more than just a friend…which is why seeing you with those other girls drove me fucking insane. I want you and for you to only want me. I don’t want to just be some kind of convenience for you. I’m either your girlfriend or nothing at all.”
His lips curved into a smile as your arms crossed over your chest, waiting for a response from the blonde. Peeta sat up and moved in closer to you, his forehead resting against yours, lips inches from your own.
“As you wish, girlfriend.”
His lips were on yours as soon as the title was spoken, moving slowly and sensually. His hand came to your waist as you fell back onto the bed, pulling him down with you as you finally let him move over top of you. The kisses grew needier and more passionate as your hands moved to the hem of his hoodie, pulling it and his white undershirt over his head and allowing for him to toss them behind him.
The articles of clothing caught your jacket, bringing it to the floor as well. Your phone slid out of the pocket as it vibrated, going completely unnoticed next to the clothing.
Where are you?
Hello?
Oh my god, Cato just said he saw you going upstairs with Peeta. Good luck. ;) Remember what I told you about spelling your name. Trust me, works every single time.
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copperbadge · 1 month ago
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https://www.wired.com/story/therapy-broken-mental-health-challenges/
I came across this (old) article and it made me think of what you shared about your therapy experience. Would you say your therapy experience worked? It almost feels like you were telling us about how you were A/B testing your way through it.
Yeah, I remember reading that article at some point either before therapy or early on. I don't remember what I thought overall but I do remember being astonished that people expected therapy to help them in six sessions, and that most people report improvement in only 15-20. Not because I think either of those things are unrealistic based on any kind of evidence, but because that's not the expectation I was ever handed when I was in therapy. I was in therapy for nine years as a kid, until I turned eighteen and could legally refuse to go. Not for anything I did, like it wasn't a court order, I was simply put into therapy and wasn't allowed to leave by the adults in my life.
The thing is, because it was mandatory, because at least one of those therapists broke ethical constraints, and because across nine years and three separate therapists nobody caught my ADHD, I have a more complicated relationship to therapy than a lot of people. I still catch myself thinking of things I can't tell my therapist because then she'll have leverage on me. Which is absurd, but it took me a long time to start saying those things to her. I am difficult and private and smart enough to make that a real problem, so it's been a slow process for me.
I also think that article is complicated, because it makes a lot of good points but it also seems at times to confuse therapy itself with the abusive nature of the American healthcare system. So while it's a useful article particularly when it speaks to marginalized peoples' experiences, it may discourage people who could benefit from therapy from doing the work to find a therapist. It's a good article to learn from, but I wouldn't advise people to decide for or against therapy based on it.
(My thoughts on my own therapy under the cut)
I'm still in therapy. It's difficult to measure results. I think I handle interpersonal stress better than I used to, but I haven't been able to find much to help with some of the emotional volatility I experience, and while I've set some good boundaries with family, the process of doing that was and continues to be stressful and upsetting, in some ways harder than simply not having them, so I'm still assessing that. Part of the problem for me is that I don't find cognitive-behavioral therapy useful for what I need, and while I understand there are differences, like 90% of all therapeutic systems boil back down to those techniques. Reality checking, visualizing, physical stimulus responses, mindfulness, as I said once to Therapist, "It's CBT all the way down." I don't respond to many of them and others I was already doing, so *shrug emoji*
At that point, when I realized there was no system that was going to help with my specific problems -- in part because the problems are ADHD related in a way that you can't train your way out of -- we also agreed it was time to try medication. Which felt like a failure, but I know that realistically I looked at the situation as it is, assessed my options, and made an appropriate choice, which is after all what therapy is often about.
So I've been on Clonidine for a couple of weeks. And it's doing fuck-all so far, but it's the lowest dose and there are other options too, so it's an ongoing process.
Outside of frustration with trying to fix problems that I honestly don't think anything but medication will fix, therapy's ok. If nothing else the expectation of it helps me identify actual problems in my life. And like most people I enjoy talking about myself but I also have a lot of struggle around asking for that kind of indulgence from friends, so doing that for an hour in a structured transactional kind of way is easier for me.
Ultimately, there's no real one-size solution that's called "Therapy", so whether or not I have found it useful isn't really material to whether someone else would. Some people use it as maintenance stress-relief, some people need to do deep emotional work, some people are in crisis and need an objective commentator. Sometimes you move from one need to another. Right now I'm in a liminal space because we're trying something new, so it's tough to say. But I'm finding it worth the cost in time, energy, and money, so I'll keep on until I don't anymore.
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cissyenthusiast010155 · 1 year ago
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Hiii☺It's my first time asking for a fic!I LOVE your fics so much so i thought i would ask you. I really hope you'll like the idea🤞It's a bit long tho.(smut fic🙊)
Larissa and Reader are best friends, they know everything about each other, they flirt and challenge each other, talk about sex and everything but never had sex. They're close.
Larissa invites R to spend the evening with her in her quarter, have a drink and watch a movie (that they'll never pay attantion to as usual).They talk, laugh and get a bit tipsy and R ask Larissa why she choosed not to have tattoos or piercing and then at some point, Larissa ask "how many piercing do you have? You never told me." So R gets up and show her the one on her nose, her lip, cheeks, a sternum piercing , maybe 3-4 each ear and maybe a lower back dimple piercings (those are ideas, you can add or change the piercing's places) and then she could sit back down and say "and i have my nipples pierced and a Christina's piercing. Would you like too see them too?" (half) joking because she thought Larissa would never say yes (not that she really minded showing her, she trusts her enough) but Larissa sensed the challenge there and decided to take R offguard and say yes, thinking that reader were going to back down, but then R gets up again and Larissa realised that she was REALLY going to show her and her eyes went wide at the idea but she didn't back down.....and then smut smut smut😅
You can add any kinks, toys or both,i'm fine with that!You can also add things about the beginning of the story if you think about something!I hope you want to write it and if not,it's ok too!Thank you xxxx
-Anon🌠⭐-
The Way You Adore Me (Like No Other) ~Larissa Weems xFem BestFriend!Reader
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Summary— Larissa and Reader are best friends. They have been for as long as they can remember, the kind of friends who do all together and talk about it all. But what happens when you have a little too much to drink, and you find out that Larissa has a thing for your tattoos and piercings…?
Mommy… Master List
Requests & Prompt-List
Anon response— Hi hi anon!! Thank you for your kind words, I greatly appreciate them 🥰 and I love your request! I hope I did your idea justice. Thank you for the request, and welcome to my anons!! (if you’d do me a favor and clarify what emoji you’d like, I’d appreciate that, thank you!) Hope you Enjoy! ♥️
Warnings: NSFW, 18+!!!, smutty smut, drinking, little angst, little fluff, oral sex (both f receiving), fingering, face sitting, body adoration, tattoos and piercings adoration, teasing, light begging, implied overstimulation, confession of feelings, etc.
Enjoy (;
You sighed in relief as you enter Larissa’s private quarters. Being with your best friend always made everything better. You two just clicked perfectly.
Literally. You were such a good match. You talked about all kinds of shit. You have fun toying with one another, neither of you being one to back down from a challenge. Nothing was off the table when it came to you two.
You dropped your bags by the door, closing it behind you.
“Hey ‘Ris!!”
You called out your close friends name to indicate to her that you had arrived. Larissa had invited you to a sleepover this particular Friday night. She had mentioned something about a terribly stressful week, and being the good friend you were, you immediately took up the opportunity to care for and be with your friend.
“Oh Darling, Hello, Come in!” Larissa exclaimed, coming into the main entrance which connected to her living room, and greeting you.
The tall woman came up to you, giving you side kisses on each of your cheeks and then pulling you into a friendly hug. You sighed into Larissa’s embrace. Her hugs always made you lose all worry in your life.
You then properly came into her quarters, and the two of you ended up sitting comfortably on her couch. Larissa had brought a bottle of red wine and some glasses for you two to share. And like most sleepovers, the two of you planned to put on a movie. Although you both knew you wouldn’t pay much attention to it…
Tonight, you both decided on Three Thousand Years of Longing, a movie with Idris Elba and Tilda Swinton apparently about genies. Neither of you had a particular interest in genie movies, so it was a perfect pick to play in the background and just forget about.
As the movie began, Larissa popped the cork of the wine bottle and poured two glasses out for the two of you. She handed you your glass and you thanked the blonde. You then sat in each others company and just talked.
Larissa spilled all the details about her stress at work, and you as well. You talked and talked, the only thing visibly affecting the atmosphere was the every now and then sex scenes that came up from the movie. It caused a good deal of blushes, breath hitches, and clearing throats…
A couple of hours later the movie was almost over. And you had to confess that your knickers were damp from all the sex sounds that had been coming from the television… You didn’t know, but Larissa had admitted a similar thing to herself.
Your conversations could go in any and all directions. Especially when you were both tipsy. And that you were. By now, your conversation had shifted to talk about tattoos and piercings.
“I know you’ve probably told me this, but why don’t you have any tattoos again?” You tipsily asked.
Larissa took a moment to muse and think about her answer.
“Well, If I ever do get a tattoo, I think it’s important that it matters to me and will matter for the rest of my life… And I have never found something that fits that requirement.”
You hummed and nodded your head in response, going for another swig of wine quickly afterward.
“How many piercings do you now have?” The blonde asked curiously, her eyes lightly roaming up and down your frame.
You pursed your lips and smiled.
“Well… the nose ring, bottom lip, dimples, sternum, nipples, and a Christina piercing.”
You explained each piercing, indicating where each one was as you said it. Larissa’s eyes widened and darkened after every piercing location was revealed to her.
“And tattoos…?” She said, almost sounding breathless.
Larissa had put her wine done at this point. And she had scooted close to you.
“Ooh, I’ve got a lot of those… Wanna see them?”
You had responded in a particularly teasing and playful manner, half-way joking, and not expecting the blonde to take to up on your offer.
Larissa’s eyes sparkle and her pupils dilated at your words. She could never refuse a challenge, especially not from you…
“Yes. And the nipples piercings too…”
You nearly chocked on your own air, as your eyes widened at record speed. It’s not that you minded, you didn’t, you truly trusted Larissa. You just hadn’t expected that from here.
“I—Ok…!” You chocked out, standing up in front of Larissa to give her a better view.
Larissa leaned forward in anticipation, bring her lips and clasping her hands together over her legs. You then started to show the blonde each of your tattoos, one by one. Eventually you finished your tour, leaving your last two piercings.
You had to admit that you were a little nervous. But you were also tipsy. And those two things kind of cancelled each other out in your case.
So you lifted your shirt with ease, showing the woman your piercings on your exposed breasts. Larissa damn near chocked on her wine at the realization that you weren’t wearing a bra. Her eyes widened and she fought to keep her mouth from dropping.
Larissa, almost dumbfounded, stood up and walked a few steps forward, where she was right in front of you. She reached out delicately, running a finger around your left nipple piercing. Your breath hitched lightly.
“And then I have my Christina piercing…!” You quickly said, redirecting the focus of the conversation.
Larissa’s eyes popped back up from your tits to your eye level.
“What’s that?” She innocently asked.
“It’s… I…” you stammered, your words lost on you.
“It’s— a piercing above my lower lips…”
Larissa’s eyes widened.
The wine was affecting you both by this point…
“Show me.”
You sensed the woman’s challenge and you decided to just show the woman.
You pulled your skirt down to pool storing your feet, and you carefully moved your underwear to the side, enough where Larissa could see the silver piercing near your sex.
Larissa had no words, and for a moment she just stood there. But you blinked once, and all of a sudden Larissa was on her knees, her mouth attacking your cunt.
Your knees threatened to buckle and your groaned loudly, your hand desperately grasping Larissa for stability.
“Jesus Fuck—!!”
Larissa pulled away after one simple lick, staring up at you with wide eyes. Your breath hitched and you stared back.
“You taste so good…” she whispered.
You wanted to combust right there. Your hips instinctually bucked towards the woman’s face.
“Don’t stop on my accord” you whispered back, your words turning into a groan as Larissa immediately dove in face first.
One of your hands flew to her free locks, which she had unpinned throughout the night. Your other hand desperately cling to Larissa’s shoulder.
Larissa’s tongue expertly lapped through your folds, but only after a swipe around your Christina piercing each time. It was teasing torture.
You groaned out in a whiny and breathy tone after ten minutes of this teasing.
“Oh for fucks sake Larissa— just fuck me already!!”
Larissa didn’t need to be told twice, simply humming in delight into your cunt, and then sliding her tongue into your core. You both moaned out in delight, your grasp at her head tightening.
The woman had you seeing stars minutes after this. Larissa stopped for a moment, coming up to your face and smashing her lips into yours. You moaned at your own taste on her lips. As you did so, Larissa was swift in undressing you.
“Want to see all of you… all of your piercings… all of your tattoos…” she breathlessly pled.
After all of your clothes had been discarded, Larissa playfully pushed you onto the couch. She went to straddle you, her dress still adorning her body.
“Is this okay…?” Larissa asked, a little concerned about her weight on you.
“More than…” you groaned with a post-orgasmic smile.
Larissa smirked and nodded, slipping to kneel right in front of the couch. Her hand grabbed your legs and hooked them up and above her shoulder for her easy access.
You gasped. Larissa then took a second to let her eyes wander at all of your piercings and tattoos. She licked her lips.
You were still buzzing from your previous orgasm when Larissa began swirling a finger around your slick folds. She continued to tease you clit and the entrance to your sex on and off while she sucked and licked and marked your skin. She eagerly focused her efforts on your tatted and pierced area of exposed skin.
Your head rolled back and you let out a breathy groan. Your one hand landed back in Larissa’s platinum locks, while your other was stabilizing yourself against eh couch.
“ ‘Rissa… please…” you breathily moaned, begging the woman to take you and stop all the teasing.
Larissa chuckled, and while she didn’t stop caressing and loving on your exposed skin, she did slip one of her fingers inside your wet heat. You hummed out in delight, her one finger providing your walls something to clench around, while you didn’t feel quite full or stretched yet.
While Larissa pulled and pushed her one digit in and out of you, her mouth was latched onto one of your perky, pierced buds. Strings of more breathy groans and pleading followed out of your mouth.
“M-more please ‘Rissa…!”
Larissa chuckled, pulling her one digit out, and then slipping two fingers inside you. Now this started to stretch you out. You hissed in response, your eyes rolling back.
“Taking me so well, Darling…” the woman cooed, biting your ear lobe where you had your lobe piercing.
“God F-faster—!!” You cried out breathily.
Larissa happily obliged, fucking into you with her fingers at a faster pace. The combination of her two digits and her sultry tone had you cumming a second time for the woman that night.
This time you screamed for Larissa as she made you see stars, and your legs were wobbly and shaking even more than last time.
“That’s it, doing so good…” she encouraged you, helping you over your high.
But she didn’t stop afterwards. No, she showed no signs of stopping. Her lips quickly attached to your clit, and she slid a third finger into your aching and sensitive core. You groaned and hissed, and your hand was pushing Larissa’s head further into your cunt.
Larissa’s hot mouth put the perfect amount of suction against your puffy clit and her three finger combo made you crash over into third, smaller, but still substantial orgasm.
You fell into the couch cushions, going limp, and Larissa finally pulled away, licking her fingers with wild eyes and a wicked smirk.
“W-wearing too many clothes ‘Rissa…” you huffed, completely out of breath, raising your hand lazily and indicating to her attire.
Larissa chuckled and immediately went to unzip her dress. It pooled at her feet, and she was quick to get rid of her silky undergarment set as well. In a second, the woman had you laid back along the couch, as she hovered on top of you.
She licked her lips.
“I was right by the way… you taste insatiably delicious.” Larissa purred, staring down at you.
You gulped and took the moment to admire the woman’s frame above you. Before Larissa could do anything, you raised yourself up and latched your tongue around one of her nipples. Larissa shuddered and let out a yelp.
“I think…” you hummed, letting go of her perky bud with a pop, “It’s your turn.”
Larissa’s eyes widened at your words and she nodded lightly.
“Alright…” she breathlessly spoke.
You looked the woman up and down before deciding.
“Sit on my face.”
Her eyes widened and her expression changed to one of concern.
“Oh. No, I don’t think—”
Larissa was stopped mid-sentence, gasping and groaning, by your lips trailing from her breasts and down her stomache, as you shimmied down the couch and towards her core.
“Trust me ‘Rissa…” you purred, licking through her folds only once.
Larissa’s hips immediately jerked towards your mouth for more. And she let out the hottest moan. She seemed convinced… Larissa carefully positioned herself above your face, you eagerly grabbed her hips and stuffed your face full of her needy sex.
Larissa’s hands landed on the couch to stabilize herself, as her head was thrown back and strings of leud groans and whimpers escaped her pristine lips.
Larissa looked lake a goddess above you, as you lapped away at her folds and into her core. Her hair and tits swayed in tandem, and the moment slowed perfectly for you to just revel and delight in the other woman.
~
When you woke up, you weren’t in your own bed… and you weren’t alone… Twisted in what you assumed to be expensive, silk sheets, you found yourself to be naked and with a strong enough headache.
You knew that you should have laid back on the alcohol…
You looked around and realized that you were in Larissa’s bedroom. And then you looked next to you in the bed, and sure enough, there lay a sleeping Larissa, just as nude as you.
You gasped lightly, sitting up, as all the events from last night came back to you. Part of you felt guilty that you both had been drunk enough, but a bigger part of you was so happy that it had finally happened.
But what if Larissa didn’t feel the same…?
“What’s on your mind, Love…?” A croaky, sleepy, yet still sultry British accent spoke out, bringing you out of your thoughts.
You looked towards Larissa who was still turned towards you, but this time her eyes were lightly opened and her sapphire gaze was upon you. You blushed lightly and sunk back into the bed.
“I… I feel like I may have taken advantage of our drunken state last night…” you whispered, not being able to look the woman in the eye as you spoke.
Larissa’s hand emerged from the covers, lightly directing your face by the chin to meet her gaze.
“Darling. If anything, I took advantage of you. I practically attacked you.” She breathed out.
“No no…” you shook your head, “I loved it.”
Your words came out before you could check them, making you blush even more intensely. At this Larissa chuckled lightly.
“I did too…”
You both smiled at each other, enjoying the newfound silence and love.
~~~
Larissa Weems Masterlist
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