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Rubbing a cherry jolly rancher on my lips like it’s a lip gloss like im 7 years old again, the way god intended
#I still believe it gets me the best lip shade#genuinely have 0 idea how to recreate it using any makeup#plus it’s like delicious so#need to start bulk ordering jolly ranchers instead of buying lip gloss
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TABLE ETIQUETTE
chigiri hyouma x gn!reader
includes: vampire chigiri. count chigiri. blood/drinking blood. kind of objective talk of humans as food/meals. heavily suggestive. reader is wearing a corset & suit.
notes: well. i’m back. and unwell lol. not proofread we die like men.
Chigiri Hyouma is a man of etiquette.
Doors held open. Announcements when entering a room. Eye contact while listening. Faint touches–when appropriate–during polite conversation. A bow of his head as he takes his leave. Taps of a napkin to corners of mouths. Over coats over rain puddles. Pristine hair in perfectly threaded plaits.
Polite. Charming. Charismatic. Poised. Elegant.
Even now, as his chilled palm presses to the warm bend in your lumbar, it’s proper. Not too low, not too high; just the right height as he leads you around the ballroom by the lining of your corset. A true gentleman, on full display.
“Chigiri.”
“Barou,” he greets, tipping his head in acknowledgement. A dashing grin pulls the edges of his mouth in a curve so delicious you have to glance away. “Good evening. I trust you are well.”
Barou hums. You smile.
“Shoei,” and you hold out your hand. He takes it–barely–and cants his head down to feign a kiss. His pale lips never quite press to the sanguine of your knuckles just like his eyes never quite catch yours. A display, an endearment.
A show of respect to the count on your flank.
“Evening,” he grunts, because he should, because he wants to. Only to you, only for your partner, but still. The thought is sweet.
You giggle as you retract your hand and lace it with your other in front of your abdomen. Manners, etiquette. This man was not meant for a world like this and yet you think that's actually what makes it so becoming of him. Strong features and even stronger build. Waistcoats fit him well, even if he tugs at his color far more than a man of his rank should.
Chigiri never tugs at his collar in such a way.
Of course he doesn’t, because Hyouma, as you know him, is a man of class. He knows the footwork to every ballroom dance and the order of every dining room utensil. His lips glossed with a cherry tint and his cheeks to match, showing dignity. Head held up high but not haughty, chin raised but no look thrown down the nose.
Classy–in every right. Yes, Chigiri Hyouma is a man of class, a man of the utmost class. His fang catches on the corner of his lip, his hand presses more firmly to the base of your back.
“And the hors d'oeuvres?”
You hadn’t noticed it until he asked, but at the collar of Barou’s shirt, hidden between the ruffles he keeps tugging at, is the tiniest speck of burgundy. Wine, perhaps. A dribble from a little too sloppy of a sip, one would think. Just something a little careless from a bulk of a man grappling for any sense of inebriation to deal with the stuffiness of the night’s events.
Chigiri reaches forward, slender fingers pinching the cloth between perfectly manicured claws. He inspects it, and you nearly miss it.
There’s a slight twinge in his brow, a hitch in the bob of his throat as he combs over the drop with his eyes. Deducing, conspiring. It’s disdain, in the faintest form. Something out of order, something not quite right. Chigiri isn’t a freak about these things, but he isn’t a practitioner of them either.
A single wave of his hand as he pulls away and a service hand is gliding over a second later. Just as polite as ever, Hyouma greets him.
“Would you care to take my guest to find another blouse?”
“Of course, sir,” he nods, and gestures for Barou to follow him. The latter does, albeit begrudgingly and while mumbling muffled curses under his breath, but he does nonetheless.
“How kind of you,” you commend, half-taunting half-sincere, as you flash him a grin.
“I am nothing if not hospitable,” he counters, without missing a beat and with his full attention on you.
Keen roseate irises tracing the outline of your own, your cheeks, your lips. You swallow. Chigiri’s hand slips to your elbow.
“That you are,” you agree, because it’s true. Chigiri is oh so charmingly hospitable. Extravagant dinners, affectionate displays, endearing escapades. All of each so well thought out; all in celebration of you. Even this gala, right now, is thrown in your favor. For what occasion, you do not remember. But for you, it is, regardless–always. “Must be some tasty hors d'oeuvres.”
He laughs lightly as you take a sly sip of your wine–just wine. Grape only, for your taste. Or strawberry, or muscadine. You hear Chigiri’s selection is exquisite, but your stomach is not so.. inclined to your partner’s diet. Not so well acclimated.
You nearly gag just thinking about taking a swig from his collection.
“Yes,” he adheres. “I permitted Isagi to partake in the rumination of this lot. His choice of selections certainly tend to be more…” he pauses, catches a fang on the edge of his grin as he trails his fingertips down the length of your forearm, “Favorable, among the crowds. I thought it best he settle my indecisive debacle, since I do not indulge.”
A chill claws its way up the slim crevice between your spine and bodice. A sharp inhale, a glance away. You feel the heat on the back of your neck before the swirl in your stomach.
“How hospitable indeed,” you circle back, daring a glance through your lashes.
Of course he doesn’t indulge–how uncouth of an implication. Chigiri Hyouma, the count of such high esteem, does not need–no, does not want such privy finger foods. He reserves himself for better things, richer things; full of flavor things. Delectable and pristine and exclusive.
Chigiri Hyouma’s reserve means nothing to him because he reserves himself to you and you alone. After all, it is not proper etiquette to share one’s plate.
And he is a man of proper etiquette.
“My dear,” he addresses, and you cling. To his fingers that find their way to yours. To the sweet saccharine words that drip from his love laced lips. To his hypnotizing gaze that draws you a millimeter–two, three–closer. You cling and adhere and, oh.
Something about a rich man devoted to you makes you hot inside.
“Mhm?”
“I would also like to enjoy tasty hors d'oeuvres.”
And he says it in a way that is so courteous. With a kiss to your knuckles and a thumb to chase it. A stare so intent it’s enticing. A grip so sure it’s unfair. He says it politely, gently–not pushy, never pushy.
“If you would be so inclined to join me?”
Like such a fucking gentleman.
“Mhm,” agreeing before you can even think it over properly, before you can even chew it over. But it wouldn’t matter, would it? Because when have you ever, how could you ever, say no to him? Turn down such manners? Decline such a kind offer? So respectful. Well behaved. Well bred.
Well trained.
“How hospitable.”
It’s him, this time, saying this to you. Commending you for your acceptance of his invitation, for his outreach of privy. There's a bubbling in your gut, a giddiness biting back at the confines of your corset. He holds out his arm and you take it; lace yours through and allow him to lead. Skirting through petticoats and performers, acquaintances and aristocrats, towards the edge of the ballroom. The heel of your shoes click in a dazed symphony and Chigiri places his gloved palm over your arm.
A sense of security, an implication of trust. A courtesy–through and through.
As you reach the doors they are pushed open by the two men standing guard at them. It isn’t until then do you hear them–the hors d'oeuvres. Faint whines and weak moans mingling with dancing viola and sonorous cello. You catch a glimpse as you pass the door; Isagi, mouth latched to a pretty brunette by the jugular, and Rin, tugging at dark wrist.
You swallow, throat thick, and turn away. Tasty, you’ve heard. Delicious, it’s been countered.
Your eyes trail up to the man walking beside you. He’s already staring back.
“Delectable,” he supplies, as if he could read your mind; like he’s plucked the thread of your thoughts right out of the seams of your mind. “You are purely so.”
And, oh. You are far more than an hors d'oeuvre.
A break away, a sidestep. You find yourself nearly shying away now, even though a comeback is on the tip of your tongue. Another chill, a deeper flush to your cheeks. You clear your throat and hope the great observer is not too mindful of you now.
(You know he is).
“That’s inappropriate,” you condemn, finally, as the bat unhooks its fangs from your cotton tethered tongue. “We are still in public, you know.”
The halls are empty, save for a few stragglers stumbling from back rooms and servers on their way to discard empty rimmed glasses. A weak attempt to stave off your embarrassment, but an attempt nonetheless.
You are simply lucky the count chooses to indulge you.
“You’re right,” he atones, grasps your hand again to place yet another kiss there. But this one lingers; a second too long to be considered chaste, a breath too chilling to be completely genteel. “Forgive me, my love. I do not wish to tarnish your compelling image. Will you?”
You nod, because what else could one possibly do when rose petals are staring heartfelt daggers into your soul. You nod and you sigh, contented.
A vicious slice of a grin cuts through you. “Wonderful,” Chigiri adheres as he pulls from you slightly to push open a heavy door. “After you.”
And there it is, the charm. He puts you first and places you second and loops you to third as is. He circles you, in everything, and keeps his priorities straight. Like a proper man–a count–should. You listen and step into the room. Pressing a palm to your stomach, you urge yourself to settle.
You suppose you do, in a sense, at the familiarity of it all. The plush cushions of the couch, kissed by the curtains as they dance lightly in the breeze from the window. Cool night air tickles your warm cheeks as you make your way over to it, positioning yourself fittingly just shy of the middle. And you watch.
Chigiri is a man of etiquette. He does things just so and in the way they should be done. He closes the door behind him gently with not so much as a muted thud. He glides over to the vanity on the wall and stands in front of it, and the routine begins.
Sheer glove of his left hand tugged loose from thumb index, middle, ring, pinky, then off in one swift thring, only to be placed neatly on the hardwood. Then the right hand, the same way, until it finds its mate on the tabletop. Next, the cufflinks. Undone and refastened on themselves before being placed with a pair of clinks into their glass case. Then, the overcoat; shrugged out of and folded over once before being draped across the florals of the vanity bench.
It is now, and only now, does he turn to you.
“How are you finding this evening, my dear?” he questions as his fingers find their way to the buttons on the front of his vest, undoing the first one.
You try to swallow again. “I’m finding it well.”
“And the dancing?” The vest is off now, placed on the cushion next to you.
“Tiring.”
“Ah, I imagine so. You must be approaching exhaustion,” he sighs as he steps in front of you. Fingertips to shirt collars–he still does not tug. No, he gently unknots the furrow of his tie and moves along smoothly to the pearls. One slips out, then two.
“Yes,” you mutter, and find yourself gripping the hem of the cushion ever so slightly.
Chigiri kneels, now. Left knee down, then right to follow suit onto the plush of the woven rug in front of you. The buttons of his shirt are unfastened all the way down to the middle of his abdomen. Stone carved ridges peaking through, collarbones cutting out of the loose linen window. He reaches for his sleeves, now, and begins to roll. Neatly, of course. One fold over the other.
“Fraternizing can be so draining,” he contends through heavy lashes, deepened irises and laden lids. He’s wrapping up the last sleeve, tucked to his elbow, outlining the muscles of his forearm deliciously. “I, for one, am simply famished.”
“Y-Yeah?” You ask, and curse your voice for coming out so shaky. Like you’re nervous, like you’re scared.
“Yes,” Chigiri says; you aren’t sure to correct your improper verbage or to agree, either way it has you sinking in the cushions, just a bit. Just enough that your knee grazes his shoulder. Just enough to be an invitation.
And yet, despite that, Hyouma is still such a gentleman.
“May I?”
You nod, because you’re too busy getting ready to bite your tongue to even attempt to use it for words. A cool hand skims by your ankle, then your calf. It trails its way along the inside of your knee, fingertips dancing in the moonlight seeping in from behind you. You peer through the candlelight, admire how Chigiri’s pretty face appears softer, here.
Once his hand raises above your knee, a shudder escapes you. Chigiri grins, you bite the corner of your lip, and he pushes your legs further apart, slots himself in between. And he looks at you, as he presses in with more fervor, now, snakes his way up to the corset that conceals the waistband of your trousers. His hand drifts back, past your hip and is met by the other as he leans in, reaches behind you to the ribbon laced there.
And now, only now, does he tug.
He does so just enough to loosen the knot of the bow, pull it until it’s undone–until you’re undone. He’s so close, his face inches from yours, his chest melding in, his torso to your thighs. He start to loosen the torque of your binding, little by little, bit by bit, until your breath starts to seep back into you. Until you are, finally, able to swallow down an inhale.
Your hot exhale fans across his cheeks and he grins at you. Sweet and soft and in a way that is so posh it makes you want to scream. But you fight it; the urge.
To lean forward, to reach out, to grapple. You fight and you wait and you sit still and pretty just like you’ve practiced so well to do. You do this because that is polite, after all. That is proper etiquette.
Your back is guided to the cushion behind you before you can even realize you had been leaning forward wantonly this whole time. You’d blush if you held more shame in your bones, but you long since gave that up. No need to tip toe when you can galavant.
You leave the tip toeing to Hyouma, after all.
Once it is loose enough, Chigiri slides his hands underneath the binding of your corset. He lingers there, on the plump of your abdomen, before he finds his end goal. He takes the fasten between his fingers and undoes it tantalizingly slow. You think you’re going mad. You feel this isn’t very courteous at all.
“I thought you said you were famished.”
It comes out before there’s a chance of stopping it. Where you suddenly found the gall, you aren’t sure, but oh, does it ignite something. A gleam, a glimmer. Nearly enough to miss there’s a sheen that glosses over Hyouma’s eyes as he settles deeper on his knees before you.
A button pops loose out from the seam of your trousers.
“You’re far more chatty than Isagi’s hors d'oeuvres,” he notes with a sharp wrench of the waistband that has it settling at your hips, “My dear.”
A chuckle escapes you–from bewilderment, anxiety–you’re not quite sure the origins matter when there’s such a powerful man knelt before you.
“Tastier, too,” you counter, fix him with a slow blink of your own.
And that, oh that gets to him.
“Tastier,” he agrees, pulls at your pants until they’re past your hips, thighs, calves. On the floor, tossed to the side, discarded as if they did cost an arm and a leg. (And you would know, you’ve seen the price of those). “More delectable.”
He leans in, presses an open mouthed kiss to the inside of your left knee. He slips his hand under it, while he’s at it, and hooks it over his shoulder.
“Piquant.”
Another kiss a little higher, this time paired with a nip of his teeth. Ever so faint, ever so light. A breathy gasp is snatched from you. Your fingers dig deeper into the cushion. Cool release, slick lips have you nearly quivering. Enticing, taunting. He’s so pretty.
“Delectable.”
He’s nearing the crease of your hip and thigh now. At the inner part where the few strands of hair that have slipped out of his braid tickle you just enough to make you restless. Though, if you are truthful, everything about this man makes you so. He nips at your flesh again, with a little more intent this time, a little more pressure. A tease, a taunt.
A warning, to be polite.
“My darling, you are just divine.”
And Chigiri digs in like a man starved. As he takes his first bite into the meat of your thigh, piercing fangs embedding themselves and staking claim. You slap a hand over your mouth to stifle the initial scream that rips its way out of the confines of your throat. You breathe hard���rapid and heavy for the first few seconds as your vision burns white hot.
And then, as cool tongue lavs over twin indents, it begins to settle. A slow burn, a duller sort of pain. It’s more of a throb in your muscles as Chigiri grasps at your hips. He tugs you to him, mouth still latched, and sucks.
It's deep and hard and writhing; you can’t help it. Your hand finds the back of his head and you tug at the hair there, knocking more out of the plait as your other attempts to ground yourself to the sofa.
And Hyouma is feasting.
He is a man of honor and class and elegance; but when he is here, on his knees before you and drinking from your supply like it is the manna from heaven, that is all gone. His table etiquette goes out the window and suddenly he is all smeared lips and matted hair and raunchy sacrilege in the name of dinner time.
And to think, he was so concerned with a speck of blood on Barou’s collar.
“Hyou-Hyouma,” you whine, fighting to keep your consciousness intact as every minute passes.
A gulp is your answer, and another. And another. You tighten your grip in his hair, peer through batting lashes at the hair getting stuck to crimson coated cheeks. He pushes himself in, like he wishes he could bury himself here, between your thighs. You feel hot; and willing, and wanting, and oh.
You might just pass out.
“Hyou..” It’s weaker, this time, your whine.
And for a moment you think it falls on deaf ears. Chigiri gets in a trance sometimes, after all. Drinks a little too much a little too fast and gets himself a little too blood drunk on the high of it all. But after another few seconds the gulps turn to sips and the sips turn to sucks, until there’s only kisses being placed to your freshly made punctures. A salve over it, like a blood smeared band aid.
Chigiri presses his cheek to your other thigh–slick and blood stained–and gazes up at you. He’s all dopey grins and lazy smiles as his thumb traces circles into your hip bone.
“My dear,” he adheres, affection dripping off of his tongue right along with your bodily fluids.
You gaze at him, glassy eyed and lethargic. Patting his hair down, a weak chuckle weasels its way out of you at the sight. How can someone so proper simply be so ravenous? Someone so posh be so besmirched?
“You’re going to need a new blouse,” you taunt, hand dropping to rest on his shoulder, where his once pristinely white shirt now drapes over his angular frame, now dyed a deep seeded scarlet.
He laughs at that; hearty and kind and loving. He gives your hip another squeeze, closes his eyes in content.
“Yes, my beloved. And thank you,” a sloppy kiss pressed to you, “For this bountiful meal.”
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#yukimiyaz writing#chigiri x reader#chigiri x you#chigiri hyoma x reader#chigiri hyoma x you#chigiri hyouma x reader#bllk x reader#bllk x you#blue lock x reader#blue lock x you#bllk fic#blue lock fic
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✧ lovesick!chifuyu x hyperfem!bimbo reader : A jealous, pining Chifuyu finally gets the courage to approach you after watching you fraternize with Mitsuya ♡
black fem reader, chubby bimbo reader, reader is a fashion girlie! not really mentioned but chifu studies literature, semi-public sex (I think), kinda whiny reader, kind of a shift at the end. lovesick!chifuyu, reader is a maneater not a mean girl! (jk) Mitsuya & Takemichi make an appearance! There’s like one b*ji spoiler, standing doggy, slight choking, pussy eating, unprotected sex (wrap before you tap), excuse any mistakes, MDNI
author’s note: for my bby @prtttycocobuttvr 🫶🏾chile this has been in the drafts for idk how long 🥲 extra long for literally no reason, the bulk of it isn’t even the smut…the ending is so abrupt 😭 but I really needed this out my drafts
wc: 3.7k
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Every now and then Chifuyu thinks back to the day the two of you met.
He fucking hated you at first, he’s ashamed to admit. Was it really hate though? Could’ve been annoyance, jealousy maybe? A lil bit of both is what he’ll chalk it up to. It was love at first sight for him, meanwhile you never gave a second glance in his direction.
He started seeing you more as the weeks passed, the two of you had no classes together, but he still saw you around far too often. You smelled just like marshmallows or vanilla, something sweet that demanded his attention every single fucking time you strutted past him.
It became a routine—class, cafe and lastly the library where he’d find you doing anything but reading.
Once a quiet safe haven for him to relax with a good book, now overtaken by the clicks and clacks of you touching up your makeup, or the rustle of a potato chip bag while you sit there with your pink Hello Kitty headphones watching some Netflix drama, even the constant sucking and the jumbling of ice as you slurp down every drop of your boba coffee while waiting for your newest minion to finish your homework.
That day was supposed to be no different. You and one of your minions were heading to that same table, around the same time you always arrived. You looked so damn good too. You always did.
He was obsessed with your new hair color, black girl blonde is what he learned it’s called. Ash blonde with dark chocolate roots and it’s just so damn pretty he’s losing his fucking mind. Your face is fresh and bare, no makeup aside from a dark blackish-brown lip liner and gloss. Lashes full and fluffy, you must’ve gotten them filled over the weekend.
His eyes are trailing your every move, waiting for the glimpse of your backside that never came.
“Hiiiii Mitsu & friends!” You leaned down to drape yourself over the lavender’s shoulders. Chifuyu tries to keep his cool, brows furrowed and eyes almost as wide as saucers as he watched this strange display.
And friends? How fucking pathetic is that. Granted, he didn’t know your name either, often referring to you as “that pretty girl” when he spoke about you to Baji’s grave but fuck, that made him feel like shit.
It’s the first time he’s heard that cute voice of yours and it’s when you’re greeting Takashi fucking Mitsuya?? You guys seem well acquainted and it burns Chifuyu up inside, when the fuck did you two get all buddy-buddy? And what the fuck did Mitsuya have that he didn’t?
He wonders who initiated the first contact, wouldn’t be surprised if it was Mitsuya, he’d always had the confidence a loser like him lacked. He was also very good with women, unlike Chifuyu. Then again, you seem very bubbly and outgoing so it very well could’ve been you who approached him.
“Here are those fabric swatches I was telling you about. If you decide to use any just let me know! I have tons of rolls and I can bring you some yards.” You hand him a couple of squares of fabric. At least ten 4x4 squares that you took the time to cut and string on a little o-ring like paint swatches. So cute.
“Thank you, y/n!” He smiles. “I’ll surely let you know.”
Just like that, you’re heading over to your table, minion hot on your heels.
It’s a quick exchange, and it should’ve been harmless, but boy does it boil his blood. God, did you speak to everyone but him?!
“Y/N,” Damn, he learned your name, heard your voice and watched you diss him all in one sitting. It was insane. “You know her?”
“Yeah, we’ve only spoken a few times but she’s super friendly. She’s an exchange student from the states, a fashion major too, we have classes together.” Mitsuya spoke as he sketched out a few designs for a project.
“This would make a nice jacket.” He shows Takemichi the blush pink corduroy square for him to feel. “Maybe pants too if she has enough. It’d look nice on Koko, he’s my model.” “It would! It’s nice and soft, like velvet! Koko’s super pretty too, it’ll look great.”
He steals glances at you every now and then.
“Just talk to her dude, she’s literally so sweet.”
He doesn’t raise his head, still sketching away, but it’s clear who his words are directed to. Mitsuya has known him for quite some time, of course he knew how to read his pragmatic friend.
“Yeah! Unless you’re scared.”
He cuts his eyes at the crybaby blonde. Of course he wasn’t scared, just a bit apprehensive is all.
He looks your way one last time.
Your back is to him and you have your MacBook open in front of you watching a recap of celebrity metgala looks. You’re enamored by your fashion content, even taking notes in your cute notebook with your adorable pom-pom pen. You’re too oblivious—too much of an airhead in your own dumb little world to notice that simp eye fucking you.
Dude’s practically drooling while staring at your tits. It’s disgusting, enraging even. It boiled his blood, so much that he’s scooting his chair back to approach the both of you. Takemichi and Mitsuya watched him with careful eyes, since he didn’t say a word before he made his move. Fuck it, his pride was already shot and he didn’t have shit else to lose.
You didn’t even notice him at first, both airpods in, now staring into your hello kitty shaped compact mirror while reapplying that sticky beauty supply lipgloss all over your plump pout.
Before he could even stop himself he’s snatching up your homework sheet, scanning his eyes over this chump’s work. Wrong. Wrong. Most were either fucking wrong or incomplete! Complete bullshit and he was gonna let you turn that in?!?
“Get the fuck outta here.” He’s speaks so calmly, it’s all the more sinister.
The four-eyed geek is snatching up his bag and calculator so damn fast you’d think Chifuyu had a gun to his head.
It pissed him off so bad! But why did it piss him off so bad?
Probably because you’ve approached everyone but him as if he’s not one of the smartest people on this fucking campus. Probably fucked them all too, so why were you being so damn stingy with him? And why the hell was he so worried about it?
Chifuyu motions to sit down next to you, thighs spread with his hands clasped between them. He run’s his sweaty palms along his pants every now and then, trying to build the courage to speak to you.
You give your lips one last smack, capping your lipgloss and shutting your compact. “Hey, you’re Mitsu’s friend! Do you know where…nevermind. I don’t even remember his name.”
“He said he had something to do, I don’t know. Doesn’t matter.”
“Oh okay. What’s up?” You finally give him your undivided attention, dropping your stuff into your little designer baguette bag, turning in your chair until you’re facing him. You’re almost instantly entranced by those striking eyes, iris’ the color of sea glass. The dark locks of his undercut styled messy and wild. He’s cute. Real cute.
“I like you.” Chifuyu has never been one to beat around the bush, even though his heart was nearly beating out of his chest right about now.
“You don’t know me to like me, so if you wanna fuck me, just say that.”
You say it like it’s nothing. Must be used to it by now, constant fetishizing instead of genuine attraction. But the way he’d been pining over you was much deeper than someone who just wanted a quick fuck. You plagued his mind—his thoughts, all you.
He runs his tongue over his lips, not in a creepy way, but because he’s nervous and they’re dry. Either way you still notice it, it’s kinda hot honestly.
“I do. I mean I would, but I don’t want to-I don’t have to,” He’s stumbling all over his words and it’s fucking embarrassing. Word vomit, is what Mitsuya calls it, it starts and there’s no telling when it stops.
“Regardless, I wanna know you–I think you’re so pretty, I like your style, the way you dress and stuff. And I’ll do your homework, if you want. Or I can actually show you how to do it, cus’ if you turn this garbage in you’re sure to fail.” Chifuyu tosses out. He barely wanted to do his own, so why the fuck was he offering to do yours? Was he that desperate for your attention?
You’re twirling your hair around your finger, head tilted. You’d never had one of them offer to teach you, just always offering to do it just to be in your space.
“Hmmm..so you wanna be my tutor. I guess, but what’s in it for me?”
The blackette could feel his eye start to twitch, there’s no way you were serious. “I’m doing your homework and tutoring you for free, what the fuck else do you want from me?” He scoffs.
Greedy bitch.
“Boy please, I can have any of these other guys doing my homework. You obviously want something from me and I just wanna know what you’ll offer me in return.”
“I don’t want anything from you, I’just want you.”
You stare at him and he stares back, that adorable face of his morphed into a slight pout. He holds eye contact the entire time, it’s almost intimidating, but his aura is so light and genuine.
He’s a strange boy, you’ve concluded, but it’s intriguing.
“Why?”
“I don’t fuckin know,” He truly doesn’t know, you’re just a dumb girl he happened to see at school. Not the first and definitely not the last, but you’ve been on his mind since he first laid eyes on you. “But I like you, a lot. I’ll do whatever you want.”
He was infatuated and he didn’t know why.
You divert your eyes, tapping your puffball of your pen against the wooden table. “What if I want you to fuck me?”
There’s a pause, you look at him and he looks at you before he sucks his teeth. “You’re joking.” Even still, he feels the blood rushing from his cheeks to his cock.
“You said whatever I want.” He needs to make sure he heard that correctly. Was it a test? A prank? Because you’re obviously just fucking with him. “But if it’s too forward, we can just study I guess.”
He’s silent and so are you but the way he’s boring into your soul makes you wish you never brought it up at all. “You serious?”
You nod, batting your fluffy mink lashes at him and as lame as it sounds, that’s all it took.
Next thing he knew, Chifuyu was eating his crush’s pussy in one of the private study rooms. He’s almost embarrassed at how quickly he fell to his knees, eager to slurp on your pretty, plump cunt.
The library is old. One of the oldest buildings on campus, hasn’t been renovated since it was built. A private study room was the perfect place—just a windowless, concrete box where no one could see or hear you leaned on your back with your feet in the air while he sucked on your pussy.
Your clit is juicy and suckable, the pink nub catches his attention the minute he slid your panties down and spread your thighs open.
He’s used to keeping his face stuffed in a book back here, now he’d much rather have his face stuffed between your thighs every second of the day.
You’re a sight to see right now, tits spilling out from under your top, panties looped around one of your ankles and your skirt is flipped up and out of the way, away from the mess he’s making between your thighs.
He’s so messy with it, spitting on it and slurping it back up, licking stripes up your sweet pussy until your clit is peeking out of its hood.
“So good.” He breathes out, spreading you wider. From your hole, all the way up and back down again, his tongue leaves no part of your cunt untouched. He’s dragging up one last time before sucking your cute little clit between his lips, running his hands up and down your plush thighs and belly.
After a while you lean up and your shaky hands manage to pry those supple pink lips away from your clit, his lips leaving your pussy with a loud, wet ‘pop’. “Waittt, I never got your name.” You whined.
As if names, or lack there of, had ever stopped you. But you desperately wanted to know his and you wanted to scream it when you came—which would be very soon if he kept sucking on your clit like that.
He’s gazing up at you with those dazzling seafoam green eyes, silvery strands of your slick still connected to his lips when he pulls away from your pussy.
“Chif-fuck...” He’s huffing and puffing trying to catch his breath, resting his head on your thigh for a moment. Your hand is running through his hair, back and forth petting motions until his breathing slowed. “Chifuyu. Matsuno..Chifuyu.”
He rarely gave his full name, at least not to people he held no respect for. But you were different, he just knew you were. He’d never been this intrigued by another person since middle school when he met the infamous Baji.
“Chi-fu-yu. Chif-uyu.”
You test it on your tongue, wanting to get every syllable right. It makes him fucking melt, the sound of his name flowing from your glossy lips is so pretty. Fuck, he needed to hear you moaning, screaming and babbling it like a little slut. His little slut.
He wastes no time pressing his lips back to your pussy, licking thick stripes up and down, fat tongue relentlessly teasing your entrance and dragging back up to your clit.
“F-fuck how are you so good at this..” It catches you off guard. His head is sloppy and nasty, but not too wet with just enough teasing to drive you insane. It’s almost as if he’d been acquainted with your pussy before this, but you know there’s no way.
You barely notice how your body subconsciously rocks against him, rubbing your pussy up and down his face, your clit bumping his little button nose every single time.
Your question falls on deaf ears.
The once bright-eyed boy is now staring at you, his eyes alarmingly low and glossed over as he loses himself.
He’s too far gone now, lost in absolute bliss between your thighs—the taste of your gooey, sticky cunt, your moans, the feel of your thighs trembling. Pussydrunk wasn’t even the word.
He lets you use him. Lets his tongue hang slack against his chin for you to grind your puffy clit against it. His face is wet and sticky and he’s covered up to his cheeks in your slick. He can barely breathe, you’re rocking far too fast for him to get a breath in, but even still Chifuyu would eat your pussy until he was blue in the face if it meant pleasing you.
Every inhale is laced with your scent and it’s like an aphrodisiac. Everything about this was so perfect. He can feel the shivers running up and down your body—you’re close, he knows it and that’s when he gets relentless.
“G-nna cum for you baby..can I cum?”
Christ, the way his dick jumped should’ve been a sin. Chifuyu hums against your clit, groans his approval so his lips don’t have to abandon your perfect pussy again. You can feel every single lick & suck and even the puffs of air he breathes out of his nose as he slurps on your cunt, teasing your sensitive clit with the tip of his tongue.
“Oh fuck, I’m cumming Chifuyu. Mmm, I’m cumming. Chifu-”
Your climax hits you like a punch to the gut, knocks the wind out of you and has you doubling over with your hands tangled in his dark locks, your trembling thighs squeezing against his neck.
Your moans and pants are so sexy, he loves you like this. You don’t even realize you’re running from him until he grips your hips tighter, pulling you forward and holding you taut.
He’s desperate to drink up all you’ll give him, thick tongue gliding over your hole before he’s shoving it inside. Not a drop of your lovely essence goes to waste as you let him get his fill.
The chime of the desk phone startles you and forces him to part from your cunt. He looks at you and you look at him, you make no move to get it forcing him to.
“Chifuyu!” The librarian calls, he frequents this place so often that the two of them have gotten quite familiar. “Sorry to bother you and your girlfriend, but the library closes soon-“ She’s checking her watch. “In about ten minutes hun.”
“Ah, okay! Thank you Miss and she’s not-” When he catches the dial tone he places the phone back on the receiver.
“She says we have ten minutes until the library closes.”
Before he can even finish, you’re already on your knees shoving his joggers and underwear down in one swift move. His dick is gorgeous—thick with a pretty pink tip. You’re not sure about the size, seven maybe seven and a half inches. Either way, it fills your mouth perfectly, big and heavy on your tongue as you lick the precum dripping from the tip.
The minute he feels your mouth on him he nearly loses all control, knees threatening to give. Chifuyu grips your jaw, popping his cock out of your mouth with an audible ‘pop.’
He notices a dip in between your brows. A frown?
A pouty frown on your pretty face accompanied by a roll of your eyes. So cute.
“Chifuuu,” You whining his name is tearing him apart inside, staring up at him with those doe eyes. “We only have 10 minutes. I wanna make you cum.”
He’s pulling you back up, spinning you until your ass is pressed against his crotch.
“I know pretty…I’m gonna fuck you.” His voice is breathy, desperate. “That okay?”
It’s soft but he hears it. The soft ‘yeah’ tumbling from your lips, the small gasps of anticipation as you raise up on your tip toes to meet his height. He’s sliding his length through the junction of your thighs, coating himself in your slick.
It’s so good, this little crevice between your thighs and cunt feels like heaven. Like the warmest hug embracing him with every push and pull of his hips.
He has to force himself to pull away. He wouldn’t be able to face you again if he came from fucking your thighs.
Blunt fingertips melt into the plush flesh of your ass, spreading your cheeks to watch as he slides past the tight ring of your entrance, a loud squelch greeting him when he bottoms out.
You’re the epitome of enticing, a pretty bitch with a perfect pussy, and honestly he feels undeserving. He feels his infatuation for you growing deeper, except this is something he wants, no, needs forever.
He’s so gentle, stroking slow and stretching you out just right cus it’s a tight fit.
Despite the wetness dripping down your thighs, you feel every single inch of him. The burn of the stretch, the slight ache as he kisses your cervix with every clumsy thrust. Your pussy feels so good around him, like it was made for him. Made to take his dick.
“I didn’t—I didn’t think you’d be so b-big.”
Snaking his hands around your neck, he’s pulling you up so your back meets his chest, rolling his hips so the thick head of his dick mushes against the gummy walls of your g-spot. Your legs are trembling but he holds you up. Heavy breaths against your ear as his chin rests on your shoulder.
“Mmm, yeah? You don’t think much of me at all, do you? Think you’re too good for me?”
“Noooo! I don’t think that.” He’s not letting up, stroke after stroke, until you’re creaming all over him, and even then, he still doesn’t stop. “W-would never… think that.”
The thick white fluids settling at the base of his cock, the slick gush of your pussy every time he fucked into you. It was driving you mad.
“I don’t exist in your world,” Thrust after thrust. “But you consume mine, I want you so bad.”
Your brain is fuzzy, just barely able to make out what he’s saying. “I-ah want you tooo…y’know just h-how to handle me baby.”
“Yeah,” He breathes out. “Of course I do.”
You’re not sure if it’s the sureness in his voice or the sweet kiss he presses against the bare skin behind your ear that sends you over the edge but your climax hits you like a train carrying the sweetest bliss. You don’t utter a word, just deep breaths and pants, a quiet belt of his name towards the end as you melt into him with every buck of his hips. He feels it—the spasms, the trembling, the cozy warmth you coat him in, an impromptu reminder that he’s unprotected inside of you. Still, he fucks you through it, just until he’s close enough-
“F-f-fuuuck.” The groan rips through his throat as he reaches his end, the grip on your neck loosens as he pushes you down and spills his seed all over the cheeks of your ass.
He’s so unprepared it’s a shame, forced to use the inside of his turtleneck to clean the mess he made, even going as far as to place you up on the table and wipe between your thighs.
“Oh you didn’t have to- I have wipes..”
“No big deal, didn’t wanna dirty your skirt. You made this, right?” He rubs the hem of the frayed pink denim, recall’s seeing a square of this same fabric on the ring you gave Mitsuya.
“I-I did. How did you know?”
“I remember seeing you sketching it out. Glad it turned out nice enough for you to wear. It’s cute..” He trails off when you avert your gaze.
“Thank you. I’m glad too…” You trail off and you avert your gaze.
“Don’t go acting shy on me, y/n.” It’s the first time you’ve seen it, something akin to a smile on his cute little face, his eyes are as bright as stars as he stares down at you. It’s odd, almost as if the roles had changed.
“I’m not!” You whine. “It’s just strange, you’re strange Chifuyu.”
#black reader#chubby reader#black fem reader#black!reader#plus size reader#chifuyu x black reader#chifuyu matsuno x reader#chifuyu x black!reader#chifuyu matsuno#chifuyu x reader#tokyo rev x you#tokyo rev x y/n#tokyo rev smut#tokyo revengers x black reader#tokyo rev x reader#tokyo rev x black reader#tokyo revengers x black!reader#tokyo revengers#black coded#x black reader#black!y/n#black!fem!reader#Hentye Hottie 🌸
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Sugar Bomb
Pairing: Findlay 'Hazard' Docherty x Fem!Reader
Description: A night of drinking ultimately culminates in Hazard speaking before thinking and shifting the mood drastically.
[2k words]
Chapter 2
“Pherple burlgr – Aw fahck off, hen.”
You snort and thrust yourself back into the old couch. Your eyes twinkle mischievously as you stare up at Hazard with a drunken smile and a bottle of cider in hand.
“Come on, Haz, you can do it.” You say through a fit of giggles before straightening up in your seat and resting a hand over his large bicep. “Purple Burglar Alarm. Say it, you can do it, I believe in you, doofus.”
It was a night like any other. The whole group had gathered up in what you called the living room, seated in various places as you can Hazard had sprawled on the couch with Maisie and left no room for others. BoomSlang had brought cassettes of beer and cider to celebrate a mission gone right and so everyone who wasn’t an omnic was indulging.
The dim lights and purple neon signs hung in various corners around the room cast a comfortable atmosphere. Touch-Up was tapping away at her pad while casually sipping on a beer, reclining in her desk chair as the countless monitors mounted on the wall basked her in a soft blue hue. JackDaw and Suzie were busy at the pool table, but if one took the time to inspect them, they’d realize the two were eavesdropping on you verbally bullying Hazard.
A steady stream of rock music was coming from the speakers and the Scotsman had played his guitar along with it until you’d dared him to say that innocent combination of words.
Now he was stuck scrunching his face while you bit down on your bottom lip to keep from bursting out laughing.
“Pherple bur…Pheeerp – ” He tried again after wetting his mouth with his fifth beer. “Pherpre – Blah.” He stuck his tongue out and shook his head like a mutt. “Eh fahck you. I ain’t doin’ it.”
It’s then that you finally notice the tattoo peaking between his teeth, embedded into the softness of his tongue. You lean forward instinctively and squint your eyes.
“You have a tongue tat, Haz?”
“Ye? Y’ never knew?” The man tilts his head to the side, blinking at you slowly. He marvels silently at how well the light bounced off the silky skin on your face, the healthy shine of your freshly washed hair, the way your oversized sweater slid off one shoulder and exposed your flesh for him to drool over. Whether it was the alcohol or infatuation, he wasn’t quite sure, but the buzz of the beer was making his thoughts bolder than usual, strange even, leaning towards possibilities he hadn’t considered before. Like the way the gloss on your lips looked so edible. And the smell of soap coming off you made him want to slump on top of you and take a snooze. The fact that your thigh unintentionally rubbed against his had always brought him joy before, now it was pure torture.
“I…well, no. I don’t tend to stare at your tongue.” You laugh nervously and rest a cold hand on your cheek to keep it from heating up at the implication, squint your eyes and dart them to your drink instead of his smirk.
“Maybe ya should.”
You nearly choke on your cider at that, thrust a fist into your chest to clear the liquid from your throat.
Hazard leans down, a mountain of a man, made of bulks of muscle and metal, completely dwarfing you under his shadow. He sticks out his tongue wordlessly and you shuffle closer to look at the tattoo, close enough to smell the alcohol on his breath and the heat radiating off him like steam.
Your fingers twitch with the need to cascade over the ink, but you stifle your inappropriate want, for fear of making things uncomfortable. That’s the last thing you wanted after working so hard to earn Hazard’s trust, the thought of him pulling away was terrifying. And so you restrain yourself, but he’s not a stupid man, he notices and he leans even closer, until your noses are almost touching.
All sounds drown out, everyone and everything melts away until it’s just you and him. You swallow thickly, eyes big and watery and curious as you stare and dare yourself to come closer. He’s intoxicating, you can imagine the light stubble on his chin grazing your soft skin as you press your lips to his and wrap your arms around his thick neck, intending to never let go.
Smoke lingers in the air from a cigarette lit somewhere, the glare of the ceiling lamp dances in his honeyed orbs like magic, they look molten, drinkable. You’re bewitched and what feelings you had been suppressing and blaming on him for saving your life burst like a bonfire in your chest. His shadow suffocates your whole being, yet makes you feel safe at the same time.
It’s overwhelming how much you simultaneously want to lunge forward and run away.
“I think love you.”
That thought surfaces in your mind, pure-hearted, truthful, for at that moment you mean every word yet refuse to mold your lips and speak that little secret lest you ruin the enchantment. Your stomach tightens, then expands unbearably with fluttering butterflies; you’re a teen all over again, standing in front of your crush and fumbling for words.
You listen to his even breaths, feel the couch cushions dip as he languidly shifts his weight.
“Tell me you love me too…”
Then he grins and licks the tip of your nose.
Excuse me, w –
“Hazaaard!” You wail and pull back abruptly, wiping at your nose as you close your eyes for a moment to escape the humiliation. “You freak!”
And just like that, the spell over your heart is broken and everything is back to normal. Your pulse still leaps in the side of your neck, but you can easily blame that on the brute startling you. His laughter rings in your ears and you groan in protest before slumping against the armrest of the couch, embarrassed and annoyed.
Talk about a mood killer…
“Ya got tha’ right, daftie!” He booms and despite your irritation, you snort and wave him off with a look of mock insult.
You hear the coughed giggles coming from different ends of the living room and end up having to massage your temples to stay calm as a scoff slips past your pulled-back upper lip.
“Haha, so funny.” You sop and sulk further in your seat, staring daggers into the backs of anyone who dared to peek at you from behind their shoulder. “I’m dying of laughter.”
“Suits you right for bullying the poor bloke” You scold yourself internally.
You curl up and tuck your knees to your chest to continue your display of sullenness at the ruined opportunity by the fiery Scotsman, but it doesn’t last long. He pats your back and you know he tried his best to be gentle, but with your difference in size and his being drunkenly uncoordinated, he nearly toppled you off the couch.
A small gasp escapes you as you dig your nails in the armrest to steady yourself and slip your feet to the floor in case his brutish affection comes back for a second round.
“Awww I’ll make it up t’ ya, bonnie. Listen, listen heare.” He waves a finger to catch your eye and wraps his cybernetic hand around your arm, tugging you closer to get a better look at your face. His eternal grin shines on you like a spotlight even now as he composes himself as much as a drunk man can, clears his throat, and absentmindedly rubs circles into your oversized sweater. Whether that’s to calm you down because he sees the anxious bunny look morphing your features or to stifle his excitement is anyone’s guess. “An bpósfaidh tú mé?”
You bat your lashes dumbly at him and cock your head in confusion.
“Uuuh…what?”
It’s then that you notice the room has gone deathly silent – there’s no more clinking of bottles and cue balls being chucked from one end of the pool table to the other, even Maisie’s stopped her squirming, having picked up on the drastic shift in mood. You glance back and note that all eyes are on Hazard who seems to be oblivious to both the silence and the attention he’s gained. He’s focused solely on you and beyond his cocky and friendly smirk you can detect a hefty amount of seriousness lingering.
He’s still rubbing circles in your flesh with his calloused thumb, waiting patiently for your answer to a question you didn’t even understand.
“Am I missing something?” You turn to Susie for guidance but she’s deep into a facepalm and even if her omnic faceplate is unchanging you can tell she’s fighting off a certain amount of disappointment.
What the hell had just happened?
“Oookay, Haz, think you had enough to drink. Time for bed.” BoomSlang slides off the edge of the pool table and approaches the sofa with her plump lips formed into a pitying smile. She stands high and mighty before Hazard and you, with hands on her hips and a combative expression when she sees the Scotsman has no intention of moving an inch.
“Ah, come on!” He all but whines in protest and lets you go to slouch back into the sofa with a grunt “I’m just askin’ mah hen – ”
“ – Bed. Now.” She demands with a warning edge to her tone and kicks his foot lightly, trying to get him out of whatever rebellious mood he’s in. When that did little to sway him, she sighed before bending down, closer to him, and softening her manner. “Come on, big man.” She wraps her hands around his forearm and pulls him to his feet with a huff before tossing you a brief apologetic look. “Up you go.”
Dumbfounded, you watch BoomSlang lead the drunken Scotsman out of the room, practically dragging him out by the arm as he puts up a mild fuss and cusses softly under his breath. Before they leave, just at the exit, Hazard grips the doorframe to steady himself and halt his escort before turning back to you.
“Daftie! Say yes!” He waves as the woman beside him tries in vain to force him out.
“Leave it, Haz.” She hisses out and turns to you. “Don’t mind him, yeah? He’s just out of it.”
Empathetic with her struggle, you nod if for nothing more than to end her failing mission.
“Um, yes?” you say softly, ignoring BoomSlang altogether. She needn’t worry over you so much, you didn’t feel pressured to answer, just simply did.
Still confused as to what the Scotsman had asked earlier because you weren’t well versed in his tongue, you ask: “Why?”
“Woo!” He thrusts his arms in the air enthusiastically, hands displayed in rock ‘n roll signs as he sways slightly. “Fuhck yes!” And a wolfish grin are all he offers you before letting Boom lead him into the darkness of the hallway and towards his bedroom. His heavy footsteps echo comfortingly and you listen with intent until they’re no longer audible.
Now that the culprit for the ruined celebratory atmosphere is gone, you have no issue interrogating the others as to what he’d said that was such a mood-killer.
“What’s going on?” You ask again after a moment of silence has passed, finding more power in your voice. “What did he say? What did that mean?” When nobody answers, you turn to the tattooed omnic specifically with a pleading expression and pursed lips. “Susie?” You call to her gently, trying to coax her out of her speechlessness. Curiosity wasn’t your only motive, you didn’t want to be left out from the plot device that had ended up causing everyone to be tongue-tied. “What did – ”
You're cut off before you can even finish.
“Don’t worry about it.”
Beside a meek frown, you don’t push the matter further. Apparently, whatever had been said, had been either extremely inappropriate or grim, and knowing Hazard, you’d bet it was the former of the two.
You opt to go to bed instead of trying to get information, the buzz from the alcohol has lulled you into a half-asleep state despite the festivities. So you leave things as they are and decide that you’ll ask again tomorrow if you haven’t forgotten by then.
“An bpósfaidh tú mé?”
What could that possibly mean? The least you could do was google it. If only you knew how to spell it…
<<< Chapter 1
Chapter 3 >>>
Masterlist
#x reader#hazard x reader#hazard overwatch#findlay docherty#overwatch x you#overwatch fanfiction#overwatch x reader#overwatch 2#ow2#hazard#overwatch
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subby whiny coryo🤭
sub coryo is literally my fav kind ,,, how did u know are u in my walls ??!?!? this is w post!peacekeeper him bc ... i love the buzzcut
also :) hi tbosas fandom !!
you could hear his footsteps before you officially see him, returning back from the districts to you. his footsteps are heavier than last time— and he seems to have bulked up, broad shoulders now more muscular than scrawny like before.
you smooth out your dress before wrapping your arms around his neck, allowing him to take the lead while in public. his buzzed head tickles the side of your neck as he breathes you in, hands finding their way to your soft hips. he hums in contentment.
"c'mon, coryo, we have a party to go to." you mumble against his shoulder, knowing that the last place he wants to be is a party. but it'd help his social status, especially since the plinths are throwing the party.
by the time you both had cleaned up for the party and arrived, many people were downing posca like it was water (which, you could argue that it was to the elites.) so you and coriolanus didn't have to do much socializing, a simple nod and compliment going a long way.
you were engaging in a conversation with a random elite, somebody that neither you nor coriolanus cared for, when you felt a hand sliding from your back to your ass. you didn't bother with looking, already knowing that it was your impatient boyfriend.
coriolanus was an uptight and elitist boy when you met him, just beginning at the academy— he still is, but now you like to think that he's become more of a man than that boy you knew. so eager to prove himself and his power to everyone, including you.
his hand attempted to go up the dress, but you stopped him before he got ahead of himself. "my love," you said with a small laugh, resting your hand on his bicep. "will you please get me something to drink?"
he almost pouted before realizing what you asked of him, you never drank. his small frown turned into a charming smile as he pressed a soft kiss to the inner corner of your mouth, "of course my dear."
which is how you two ended up here, in the bathroom of an extravagant house belonging to a family that honestly shouldn't even like coriolanus. making out like he was about to go back to peacekeeping (which, he'd never do. he missed you too much.) your glossed lips left sticky colorful marks on his pale skin, marking him as yours.
your hand was wrapped around his pretty weeping cock, slowly jerking him off while you kissed him dumb. drinking up the whines that left his mouth while he grinded into your hand, his pent-up self finally being able to be relieved after the time in the districts.
"did ya' miss me?" you asked teasingly, thumbing his tip while he tried to steel himself. his blue eyes welling up with tears as he shys away from your hand, his cock leaking precum all over your manicured hand. "did you coryo?"
he gulped, which would've looked a bit silly if you both weren't so turned on. he nodded, his reddening face blurring together as tears slip. "missed y'so much miss," he slurred, a throaty noise coming out as he hid in your neck. "needed you, s'much."
you giggled and pressed another kiss to his bruised lips, licking them until he opened his mouth— only to pull back and let him pant openly. "well you have me now sweetheart," you assured him, pulling your hand away from him to rest your precum slicked fingers in his open mouth. "what do you think we should do? to make up for lost time.."
#cosywriting#cosynsfw#cosyreqs#coriolanus snow#coriolanus snow smut#snow smut#coriolanus x reader#coriolanus snow x reader#coriolanus snow x you#coriolanus snow x female!reader#coriolanus snow x y/n#coriolanus snow fanfiction#coriolanus snow fic#🎀 asks#snowswrld
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i apparently got a bone bruise in my ankle.
oh well, jealous hakari who doesnt say he’s jealous. no, but he does bulk himself up and is cocky about it. daddy usage, semi nsfw, mentions of ‘PUT MY NAME ON IT, NOW IT DESIGNER.’
“are you jealous, kin?” you ask, applying your mascara and lip gloss. you wouldnt know why he was, but he was.
“no, just gotta fatten up my muscles.”
“mmmhmm..? oh!” you say, collecting your phone and showing a dress to hakari. “you think id look good in this? im not too sure.”
“you wearin’ that for me or for bitch made?” he asks, pulling out his wallet. god, that man had so many cards. a card for basically any fucking store. but he’s also the type to have a envelope of money.
you pout and snort. “for you dumm!—“ you stop, a teasing grin on your face and you get in his lap. he looks up to you, biting his lip as he gives you a once over. “daddy, are you jealous?”
“the fuck im jealous for? that boy doesnt know how to treat women and or spend money on ‘em. “ his arms spread open, then wrapping their hands on your ass. “plus, hes broke, immature, and looks like he a mama’s boy.”
“anddd youre forgettin’ one thing, sir.” you giggle, getting close and he snickers.
“ ‘nd what would that be, precious?” he tilts his head to the side, lips prepared to kiss yours.. until you press a finger against them.
“that im already yours.” you giggle at the smack of your ass and soft exhale. he’s trying hard to not fuck into you in the changing room.
“yeah, you fuckin’ are.” he says, kissing your lips as if its his last. his soft stubble grazes against your lip, probably going to give you a irritation rash. “i can fuck you here in front of him, just like how i did with yer ex..” he suggests, he feels that fever building up.
“mmm, wouldnt it be better if i was bent over your car or couch?” you giggle at his hands groping you, hands sliding up to your throat and squeezing soft.
“you got yerself a deal, little girl.”
#jujutsu hakari#hakari fluff#hakari x reader#hakari x black! reader#kinji hakari#hakari#hakari jjk#jjk hakari#hakari kinji#jujutsu kinji#jjk kinji#kinji hakari x black reader#dvorahasks
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modern things the crows would love
(based of the reference of them being in the victorian era)
(also, i've seen a couple people do this so full credit to them for inspiring this)
kaz:
* (secretly) card shuffling asmr/those asmr videos where they teach you card games, even tho he knows how to play them already
* (when he was a kid) those diaries where you have to have a code to get in with a speaker to record messages in
* ^^ also diaries with locks on them
* combination locks
* hard swing jazz
* mean girls (movie & musical)
* "dark acadamia" literature
* making sure everyone in a fifteen mile radius of him knows that frankenstein was the DOCTOR and the monster was frankenstein's MONSTER
* making up conlangs/ciphers for fun
* ^^ getting the crows to memorize them so they can communicate secretly
* gloves with pads on the fingers that let you use screens
inej:
* tumblr aesthetic moodboards
* taking hyperspecific uquiz personality quizzes
* crystal jewelry
* competitive gymnastics & tumbling
* claw clips & french pins
* colored eyeliner & mascara
* midi skirts
* making boards on pinterest—sharing those boards with jesper & wylan
* ^^ having massive joint pinterest boards with all the crows
* leg warmers
* ballet & "ballet aesthetic"
* any movie with natalie portman
* birkenstocks but specifically the ones with a holder for your big toe (idk if this makes sense)
* phantom of the opera
* oil diffusers
* american girl dolls
jesper:
* laser tag
* rollerskating & roller derby
* plato's closet
* tourist jewelry
* volleyball
* colored & funky shaped sunglasses
* just dance 2
* bruno mars
* fall out boy
* cargo shorts
* hamilton
* finding obscure fashion inspo on pinterest
* showing everyone how he can run barefoot on gravel
* gyaru fashion
* sour candy
* mt. dew
* saying, "i'm just joshing you" ironically
* sneezing extremely loud on purpose when it's dead silent
wylan:
* papa louie arcade games
* laufey
* asmr
* flute beatboxing
* green and brown colored converse
* tumblr aesthetic moodboards
* magnetic puzzle tiles
* percy jackson
* moisturizer with sunscreen in it
* the great comet of 1812
* dr. pepper
* accidentally dropping really traumatizing memories bc he genuinely thinks they're just funny stories from his childhood
* watercolor pencils
* shazam & the google "hum a tune" feature
nina:
* forever 21
* lush
* those mommy baking blogs that post their whole life stories before the recipe
* french tip manicures but in any other color but white
* ^^ also charms on nails
* gel manicures
* megan thee stallion
* lip gloss
* juicy couture
* the met gala
* amy winehouse
* duolingo/memrise/babbel
* panera bread
matthias:
* ^^ also, those mommy baking blogs that post their whole life stories before the recipe
* volunteering at animal shelters
* carhaart & patagonia
* those massage chairs at malls
* apple watches
* buying those massive bottles of ibuprofen at costco
* ^^ buying bulk protein powder from costco
* ^^^ generally he just likes costco & buying things in bulk
* colored fairy lights (HATES LED light strips)
* those big tubs of aquaphor
* vera bradley blankets
* gallon water bottles with the motivational time checkpoints
* at home gyms
* the classic white boy flannel over hoodie combo
* jacuzzis
* massage guns
* steel toe boots
* yawning and sneezing like a dad
* hair and beard oil
#some of these don't make sense in the context of *modern things* but idc#as it went on this list sort of became a headcanon list#but do y'all see my vision#kaz brekker#six of crows#inej ghafa#jesper fahey#wylan van eck#nina zenik#matthias helvar#six of crows fandom#soc#soc fandom
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for clarity Hakuji has his human eyes, blue iris and white sclera, normal lashes and no face tattoos but shares a mix of his demon and human form tats. Currently he goes by Akaza in this fic as an alias. Please enjoy ~
You've been hunting down this bag for months, a cute weekender duffle by a designer that had a bit of an agreement with certain stores. Bought in bulk and at a discount because it didn't meet the luxury brands normal standards however the flaws are so small most people didn't even notice them.
You were dying to have this bag.
Especially since you'd gotten a purse in all black by the same brand for a heavily discounted price, the only one in the store and it haunted you enough you woke up early to fetch it the next day.
But as you stand in the store you drove nearly an hour to be in, you frown. Not because of the size oh no it was perfect for a week stay, maybe longer if you used packing cubes, the design just as you wanted it where there were Js in hearts printed into the bag but the pattern didn't overly draw attention. The only problem was the bag was in a soft blush pink and not that dusty pink or black you've seen them use before.
You place it on your cart, debate if trying to find it in ‘licorice’ online is worth the hassle, wonder if you can find those black heart shades you've been wanting too.
“Whatcha got there princess?” The man's voice is smooth, cutting over the ambient music and chatter that you'd toned out. You hadn't noticed him approach, silent footsteps to near you and of course there wasn't a single reflective surface in sight.
But before you can scrunch up your pretty features an arm is presented to you, palm up. Body ghosting yours while he waits for you to take notice of his inky midnight bands on his forearm, three thick lines encircling thick muscle that flexes from his twitching midnight fingers.
“Akaza!” You purr and he adores the sound. Glad he's the one who can disarm you so quickly, “M not dressed to see you.”
Truly you weren't at least not for a…what should you call this? Not really fuck buddies as each meeting didn't always end in sex and there were too few dates between you to be dating. It was more like a situationalship if anything else. A situationalship you held with someone who you were pretty sure was muscle for a notorious mafia head, that his ranking was higher than just a goon. Much higher.
“Not dressed to see me?” There's a chuckle to his voice as he wraps his arm around your rib cage to pull you to him. His scent has a richness about it that always invades your senses. He smelled like fresh air, faint cigarette smoke and a cologne you can't quite pin point.
“Mmhmm I don't even have my lip on.” You pout hiding away your bare face when usually you'd see him with some strategically placed highlighter, mascara and at least lip gloss. Normally in a skirt or dress that hid away some frilly lingerie set in case he decided to unwrap you that night.
Now you weren't sure your plain bra and underwear even matched.
Akaza thought you looked cute in a form fitting black tee with monster girls on the front, paired with skinny jeans that hugged your ass and thighs nicely and black flip flops that made your white toe nail polish pop.
To him you looked sexy.
His fingers gently tilt your chin to look up at him and he's met with the cutest pout he's ever seen. True to your word your long fluttering lashes were bare, your top lip naked with not one single swipe of black lip stain while your bottom was your natural color either on its own or enhanced with gloss or a nude lipstick. Under the afternoon sun and fluorescent lights he can even make out your freckles.
“As beautiful as the day I first laid eyes on ya.” He leans in and kisses your lips, smiling as he does so his natural fangs can catch on your pout. His heart races when you giggle into the exchange.
“Flattery will get you nowhere Mr. Akaza.” You tease, looking into his icy blue eyes fighting off a sigh.
Flattery got him pretty far with you already.
“Hmm.” He hums, grabbing for the only thing in your cart, dark digits wrapping around the light pink handles but your clawed fingers pull it back into the cart. He lets go of the bag, puts the matching brown duffle in your cart too, you look up at him and replace the light creamy brown back onto the shelf. When you go to add the pink one back as well he puts it deeper into the cart and gives the handle a nudge so that you'll keep shopping. Reluctantly and with a sharp cutting glare, you start walking again and he follows.
“Shopping with your friends?” He looks around for a few of the guys he knows dates your girlfriends, doesn't see a single one. No lanky dark haired mop, no sunshine boy, and no scar face either.
“Hmm? No.” You wrap around to the next aisle, futally looking for that duffle in black, before you purse your lips in agitation, moving onto the next aisle that was now lined with hand bags and purses. Maybe a new one would take your mind off of the licorice duffle. It doesn't.
“By yourself then princess?” He watches you eye a mini tote, it's the same brand as the duffle and much larger tote on your pretty body now. You don't pick it up despite it being a dusty pink. Akaza reaches over you and nestles it into the cart, smiling down at you as he does.
“Yes. All by my lonesome.” You sigh dramatically before giggling, “Everyone is busy or out of town. I'll probably have dinner somewhere nice too.”
“By yourself?” He can't keep the growl out of his voice and you dangerously give him your back, looking at another bag.
“Most likely.” You leave it and when he tries to add it to the cart your flaring glower makes his lips pull up into a smirk.
“Lemme join ya for the day then, Princess.”
“No, ‘m fine.”
“I insist, don't like ya wandering around alone. Who knows who might find ya and try to bother you.” He teases, leaning in from behind to press a kiss to your throat, “I'll buy whatever ya want baby.”
“M a big girl. I can pay for my own things. Besides, how did you find me, Akaza?” You've gotta stop saying his name like that, he's gonna keep you forever if you don't. It doesn't help you turn to face him, stalking closer like a cat with easy prey. Until your chest is pressed to his and you're leaning up on tiptoes even in those platform flip flops to purr into his ear.
“So what's it on? Did you sew it into my purse? Is it underneath my car? Or did you download it onto my phone after you made sure to smear my pretty lipstick onto your sheets?”
You pull away before he can answer, innocent smile on your face as you blink up at him cutely, whine to your pretty voice, “But we'll be shopping all day, Kaza and I like to take my time!”
It takes him a moment to collect himself from the whiplash you give him. A smile slowly pulling up his lips as his tattooed fingers brush hair behind your ear.
“That's okay princess. I love taking my time with you, remember?” Letting his thumb come down to press gently on your throat before he lets go altogether, “But if you agree to me coming along just know that every outfit, every bag, every little thing ya look at a little too closely is gonna be in that cart and stay in that cart until we're ready to swipe my card.”
“Your card?” You curl your fingers through the loops of his black jeans, let your thumbs slide under his form fitting black wife beater that clings to his toned abdomen as you trace the hidden bands at his waist.
“My card princess. M not gonna argue about it.”
“Kay!” You lean up and kiss him between the thick twin bands on his throat, turning back and grabbing the cart to push along as you think of where that black bag could be. Maybe a sister store had it or maybe you should try online again.
Meanwhile Akaza smirks behind you as you allow him to be your scary guard dog, at least for the evening. And without a single effort to insist or remind him of your hyper independence he knows you have. He likes it, loves that you give into him even if it is just a little.
That you trust him to take care of you.
The afternoon moves along nicely. Akaza is always a man of his word, pulling out his card at the counter no matter how steep the price. He carries your bags to your car between each trip to every store while he holds your hand with his other until the final trip where he has you leaning against the drivers side door as the two of you agree on where to eat for dinner.
He leans down to kiss you, usually his parting is tender and yet intense leaving you giddy and dizzy until your next meeting but this time it is different. This time he cups your jaw and lets it move to your throat as his tongue slides into your mouth to lick the inside of your teeth, groaning as he does as if he's trying to taste all of you like it could be his last time. Starving that pretty head of yours of oxygen between his own searing kiss and the way he squeezes your throat before he finally lets go. Icy blue gaze boring into yours as he watches hearts form in your eyes before he presses his lips to your ear for a confession.
“I installed it on your phone.”
His mind flashes images of the exact moment his possession grew unstable, uncontrollable. Of you beneath him, fucked out and mewling his name, tenderly holding his hand while the other clawed his shoulders to shreds. Of you in his shower, giggling as you clung to him before he could fully step in, wetting his body with your suds before helping him wash. Of you lying next to him, giving such a cute smile before you reached out to caress his cheek with such a heavy sigh.
“Because the idea of any man seeing you the way I do makes me violent.”
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Are you into makeup/skincare, if so whats your routine?
yessss. i live for skincare and makeup! it's my obsession. 😭😭😭
my skincare routine changes every so many years, but this is the most current one.
keep in mind, i have dry, sensitive skin.
skincare:
micellar water to remove the bulk of my makeup. currently using some random one i picked up from ross.
estee lauder take it away makeup remover lotion and/or the estee lauder advanced cleansing balm to get the rest of the makeup off
i also use the estee lauder eye remover makeup for eyeshadow and mascara.
i then go in with my la roche posay gentle foaming moisturizing wash, the la roche posay hydrating cleanser, or my tatcha rice wash. depends on what i'm feeling lmao
keep the face damp from rinsing or use the avene thermal spring water to wet my face again, and then go in with the la roche posay hyaluronic acid serum.
let that dry and then apply my la roche posay b3 serum. i also use the faded skin serum once a week.
after the serums dry, i either use the soon jung hydrating cream or the tatcha dewy skin cream.
and, if my skin is on the extra dry side, top it off with the origins glow-boosting face mask.
makeup (also changes frequently, cause i have a lot of makeup):
primer: elf power grip (regular or the niacinamide one) or the milk hydro-grip. i tried the nars light reflecting hydrating one today though, and i love it!
foundation: i was using urban decay naked, but i got the nars light reflecting one and holy shit, it's the first perfect shade i've ever had with foundation, so i'm about to buy another lmao
concealer: the elf hydrating camo when i'm out of my favorite, which is the nars creamy radiant concealer.
blush: anything by makeup revolution, though i have one from mac i use a ton. tried the orgasm one by nars today and loved it. so far, nars is stealing my heart lmao
eyebrows: a random loreal eyebrow pencil lmao i do like the nyx and abh ones though.
eyeshadow: too may palettes to count. depends on the look i'm going for.
bronzer: nars or black radiance
setting power: wet n' wild photo focus or kimchi
mascara: again, too many to count. i used lancome today and loreal yesterday. depends on the day.
lips: randoms. usually just lip gloss. i'm not a big lipstick person.
setting spray: the charlotte tilbury one is that girl! best setting spray everrrr.
----
sorry, this was a lot, but i'm a whore for makeup and skincare! 😭😭😭
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Sephora 2024 Spring Sale
The spring Sephora sale is upon us! This one is always fun for me since my birthday tends to fall in this sale, so I get a sale and a birthday present for me. So, this is my own little wishlist I have for Sephora, and what I’d really like to get during this sale.
my little wishlist:
saie,
dew blush liquid blush in spicy, baby, chilly
sun melt natural cream bronzer in fair bronze
slip tint concealer in 1
glow sculpt cream highlighting blush in pink glow
slip tint tinted moisturizer in 1
glossybounce lip gloss oil in bounce, push, dip
merit,
flush balm cream blush in rouge, stockholm
the minimalist complexion stick in silk
bronze balm bronzer
signature lip satin lipstick in millennial, l’avenue, 1990
signature lip matte lipstick in vermillion, power, maison, classic
day glow dewy highlight in cava
shade slick tinted lip oil in sangria, pink beet, falcon, taupe, bel air
I have really been wanting to try out merit and saie beauty recently; I have absolutely loved their branding and philosophies so it’s only a matter of time before i get some of their products for myself. I am someone who doesn’t really like traveling with powder products since they are more likely to shatter; i’d rather have cream products, where even if they break, i can use them in a different container instead of having powder everywhere. All of these formulas are creams or liquids that are perfect for me to travel with. Plus, all of these products would be what I would reach for when I wanted a little pick me up, not so much full glam full cover makeup. I think the last time I did that was for my high school senior pictures. Because I was being professionally photographed.
I do have a larger beauty wishlist, but these are my want-wants, really, as opposed to what i would like to try and use daily.
makeup
yves saint laurent couture mini clutch eyeshadow palette in 100, 400
rare beauty soft pinch luminous powder blush in happy
rare beauty positive light silky touch highlighter in enlighten
tom ford eye color quad in nude dip, rose topaz, sous le sable
tom ford shade and illuminate contour duo in 0.5 intensity
tom ford eye defining pen eyeliner
huda beauty creamy obsessions eyeshadow palette in natural brown
patrick ta major headlines blush duo in just enough
patrick ta major dimension III matte eyeshadow palette
huda beauty rose quartz eyeshadow palette
mango people dewy glow cream highlighter
mango people cream blush & lip stick in cherry
tower 28 all-over hydrating concealer
natasha denona my mini dream eyeshadow palette
tower 28 shineOn lip jelly gloss in xoxo
natasha Denona glam eyeshadow palette
skincare
alpyn beauty super peptide & ghostberry moisturizer
farmacy lip smoothie lip balm
saint jane beauty luxury sun ritual sunscreen
mara sea silk lip balm
mara algae + moringa sea sculpt body oil
chia + moringa algae enzyme cleansing oil
mara seadream crème moisturizer
soft services speed soak gel body moisturizer
soft services buffing bar exfoliating body bar
soft services carea cream moisturizing + softening body lotion
merit great skin instant glow serum
oui the people hydrating body oil in orange blossom
summer fridays rich cushion cream moisturizer
Most of my skincare wants are just more rich moisturizers. I tend to have dry skin, unless it’s peak summer when it feels like I’m in a rice cooker, since that is super humid.
No matter how much I love beauty products, I do not wish to have the 2016 makeup collections, where there is so much that it is useless. If I ever get there in my career, I fully intend to give that surplus to someone who could use the bulk of it, like a makeup artist. I don’t know if I’ll ever get there, but I know I don’t want 80 foundations just rolling around in a drawer. That goes for skincare too; I do not want the skincare tiktoker collection that will expire in 6 months. I think, in a small thought, the best way to actually review that much product without wasting it would be to keep notes on the different products and how they worked, and how they compare to other products as a frame of reference, then use the product. I know for me that if I really need to use a skincare product before it goes bad, I’ll use it on my body. But that also would take more effort than a lot of people want to put into something, and I’m aware of that.
That is my little Sephora round up here for this spring and summer, and if you’d like, you can share with me what you’re looking at for this sale, or what you’re not looking at. Knowing me, I’ll end up just getting two products from this sale.
#beauty#beauty post#beauty editor#🤍 lifestyle tag#makeup#makeup blogger#makeup products#beauty products#makeup of tumblr#beauty of tumblr
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Just got off the phone with my mom. We had a twenty minute argument because she told me I'd look good in capris, and I may or may not have cited her clinically diagnosed NPD as the reason she gave me bad fashion advice.
Twenty minutes we argued about this. She wants me to stop dressing like a knock-off rich widower. I won't. I'll never stop. I oughta buy a new cape and bulk rose scented lip gloss to spite her.
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⚜ 𝔖𝔱𝔞𝔯𝔱 ℌ𝔢𝔯𝔢 ⤵
ONCE UPON A TIME, I (HALOSCOPE Editor-in-Chief Savannah Eden Bradley) got sick of trying to find a lip balm that actually works. I don’t trust the bulk of lip balm reviews; so much is either spon-con or simply too vague. Now, I'm ranking all lip balms on the market until I find the Golden Gloss ��� the one lip balm that meets the Six Tenets: 𝔉𝔬𝔯𝔪𝔲𝔩𝔞, 𝔉𝔢𝔢𝔩, ℌ𝔶𝔡𝔯𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫, 𝔏𝔬𝔫𝔤𝔢𝔳𝔦𝔱𝔶, 𝔓𝔯𝔦𝔠𝔢, and 𝔙𝔦𝔟𝔢𝔰.
Gloss Tournament used to exist as a now-depreciated Google Sheet, but as it's become a much larger project, it now exists here.
This blog is primarily used just for 𝔥𝔬𝔰𝔱𝔦𝔫𝔤, meaning that if you want to see the full tournament rankings, you'll need to view Gloss Tournament here (preferably on a desktop) instead of Tumblr's default blog-view.
🗡️ LET’S JOUST 🗡️
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NIVEA Lip Care
* The images above were taken from the official NIVEA US website.
These are my go-to lip gloss/balm/shine; I literally buy this in bulk, and the ones featured above are my favorite flavors!
I like this product because not only does it keep my lips hydrated and shiny, it has a delicious fruity taste as well! ♥
🔗 NIVEA Peach Lip Care 🔗 NIVEA Strawberry Lip Care
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Someone needs to investigate amazon for money laundering because tell me why I was scrolling through looking for a flavored lip gloss and i kept seeing those multi packs of like off brand chapstick in funky flavors like sodas and candys, and they were selling for upwards of 60 dollars a piece. It wasn't bulk selling i fucking checked.
This shit is ridiculous.
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Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: 🆕 10x Mystery Beauty Bundle Skincare Makeup Nail.
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