#sliding this in just at the deadline!
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Day 1: Forehead Kiss
#AND HERE COMES HAL BENDER SLIDING IN TO MEET THE DEADLINE WITH JUST MINUTES TO SPARE#danny phantom#pompous pep#kiss challenge#vlad masters#danny fenton#daily sketch#hjbenderart
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my submission for @where-does-the-heart-lie ’s dtiys
i’m such a big fan i was so excited when this prompt dropped
#i’m so excited i thought i wasn’t gonna finish it in time between my thesis and stuff but here we are#sliding in just before the deadline#one piece#op#1pc#revolutionary sabo#one piece sabo#flame emperor sabo#sabo#revolutionary army#one piece fanart
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Thinking about that one minigame from Green Lake where you nyoom around the place with Tooth Fairy. Thinking about it happening in a literal way is cracking me up.
Local dentist is sliding around on the ground, phasing through the fences and sucker-punching carbuncles and critters while looking for teeth. Dentist is also reminiscing how she got those teeth to a gaggle of college-age people and two teenagers (one of the teeth is from accidentally hitting someone with her car, another is from intentionally punching someone so hard they lose that tooth).
#tooth fairy#reverse 1999#and i think it is literal just giftboxed into a neat little minigame#can i say how much i love the way bluepoch uses everyone's little board pieces and the mechanics of the minigames with them#like i suck ass at them but i love it#first two events is in literal form (see: melania escaping places diggers running away from police toof sliding around)#and then there's mor pankh with kaalaa baunaa running away from the personification of her work deadlines and procrastination. she eats#an energy bar a dog chewed on and only realizes it later. damn girl you live like this#tooth fairy is truly the woman of all time and i hope we get to see more of her and the green lake girlies#certified storm moments
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university.. university leave me alone
#heres the situation: for my cognitive literary studies class (quite fun) we had to pick primary material and a cognitive angle to analyse it#from. and the deadline was coming up and i who have been thinking very intensely about robots for the last half a year picked#yeah you guessed it. fucking PIERS PLOWMAN. which is not fun for me but i panicked about the deadline#so now i have to do something about piers plowman and its cognitive literary properties#and im in hell this is hell i have been extremely stressed about piers plowman for a month. to the point where ive been in physical pain#AND I CANNOT. THINK OF ANYTHING. ABOUT PIERS PLOWMAN.#and the teacher for that class is so nice and chill and she was like you can pick anything at all. and i went with piers plowman#like it's interesting but from what COGNITIVE angle can i approach piers plowman.#ive been thinking about saying exactly this that piers plowman is more for historical linguists and theologists than narratologists but im#also positive plenty of scholars read piers plowman for the plot#so then i thought about the characters and whether you can Connect with them and whether they help you Immerse yourself in the story and#other terminology i learned in cognitive literary studies class.#theyre allegorical and very 1 dimensional and there could be something about whether we from 2024 understand them in the same way#people from the 14th century did. like this was what i put in my proposal when i made it#but now i actually have to make the slides and use cognitive literary papers for this and it's just not going at all. i cant do it.#i cant do anything i cant enjoy the daylight and the warmer weather i cant think about anything other than im not making progress on this#and it's bad for me!! it's bad for my health i feel bad. why did i go with piers plowman why did i not pick watership down#my post#i have plenty to say about watership downm cognitively.#also about old possums book of practical cats#maybe i could email her and tell her id like to change it.. no#ive also been reading the tombs of atuan which is incredible
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i have such shit luck with group projects
#rambles#gotta do a presentation on gender n race tomorrow and so far we have 5(6? ??) people and only me and one other person did anything#and the other guy just made the slides and put a pretty theme on it#we are. how the kids say? cooked#i wanted to do this by myself but these guys didn't sign up for a presentation until the very last deadline date#so they're saddled with me. i guess#i hope they're ready bc im about to be fucking insufferable for an hour tomorrow#hello predominantly white gender studies class. before you is a meme with 'illegal aliens transsexual surgery'#your job is acknowledge the usage of 'illegal aliens' to be anti-mexican/hispanic and not something cutesy to laugh at#humor the weapon against fascism but you gotta also acknowledge that just laughing wont help the people being hurt by it#if your first reaction is to laugh you are dropped into a pit with wild rabid dogs. no puzzle. instant fail
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What happens in the green room...
My (very last minute, oops!) AU roulette. Naddpod called me on this one!
Jaina asks Moonshine to do her make-up before a show with their band. What could go wrong when the object of your affection is sat in your lap and you're only in the first few steps of the formal courting process?
Read below or on Ao3
--
Jaina tries to breathe steadily. This was fine. Absolutely fine. So maybe she’s only on step 3 of her 27 stage courting process, and maybe it has already been six months, and maybe she isn’t sure that Moonshine actually knows Jaina is trying to court her or that she would reciprocate if she did… but everything is going to be okay. It is totally fine that Moonshine’s straddling her on the sofa right now. Jaina’s having exactly 0 feelings about the strong thighs pressed against her own… or the way Moonshine’s short hems dig in slightly at the swell of her legs. It’s not a problem that Jaina wants to smooth down the material where it has rucked up, it’s fine that she wants to ruck it up further and kiss away the divots left behind. She doesn’t, of course, she’s a master of restraint, it wouldn’t be proper, and Moonshine deserves proper.
“You look real tense, Jaina, everything okay down there?”
Now Moonshine is looking at her with concern… reasonably, because Jaina is currently sitting as still as possible and desperately trying to ensure she gives Moonshine enough space. Despite her rigorous exercise regime, her stomach has started to shake with the effort of holding her back rounded enough so that she doesn’t push herself against Moonshine. She really wants to push herself against Moonshine. It’s okay though, she’s a master of restraint.
Jaina nods curtly. “Of course. I’m totally fine.”
“Uh huh” Moonshine doesn’t look convinced. “You’re shakin’ like a leaf. I think maybe you might be more comfortable if…” Moonshine’s arm wraps round her, pulls her closer, presses her against Moonshine’s ample chest, Moradin she’s so warm, she smells so good, all spice and earth, wild and wonderful. “There, much better, now close your eyes.”
Jaina does it immediately. She’ll do pretty much anything Moonshine asks of her.
“Now hold still.” A hand cups her chin, tugs her face closer to Moonshine’s.
"Are you sure we've got time? We're on soon aren't we?" Jaina wants to wriggle free and run, she wants to stay here and never ever move again.
"Hush up, you said you wanted make-up, so you're getting it. You're allowed to want things! Also, we have an hour, we've already sound checked. Just enjoy it!"
Jaina shuts her mouth, there's no point in arguing. Moonshine's right. Jaina wants this. Moonshine might not be quite so amenable to Jaina's wants if she knew how many of them were focused on her, but the make-up? She was going to allow herself that.
"You can relax your hands, you know?" Moonshine taps one of them softly.
"I haven't. I. I'm not sure what you mean." Jaina's hands are clamped firmly to the chair.
"I can't say the view's bad…" Moonshine prods Jaina's bicep, "...but I don't want you to pull a muscle before we go on, the guitar won't play itself."
"Where else would I…" Jaina opens her eyes in alarm as Moonshine grips her wrists.
"Here." Moonshine plonks Jaina's hands down on her thighs and pats one reassuringly. "There, make sure I don't fall. Now, close your eyes."
Jaina does, and there's the lightest sensation of something brushing her eyelid. She chances a quick peek, and is rewarded with Moonshine looking down at her, studying her, hand moving over her cheek, Moonshine's teeth gripping her lip in concentration. Jaina is going to memorise everything about this, it's so many steps away from where they are supposed to be. She hasn't gifted Moonshine the spore collection she made for her, or the presentation about the benefits of choosing Jaina as a partner. She hasn't even mustered the courage to send the formal courting intent letter. But now Moonshine's pressed against her and Jaina's hands are on Moonshine's thighs and she can't resist holding on. It's for Moonshine's safety afterall, Jaina was keeping her in place, keeping her safe, just like Moonshine asked.
"I said keep 'em closed. I'll do the other lid and then I'm going to do your eyebrows." Moonshine leans forward and cups Jaina's chin in her calloused palm. Jaina loves the reminder that Moonshine isn’t some soft noble. Moonshine works with her hands, she works hard, it's one of a long list of things Jaina admires about her. She closes her eyes obediently, relishes the touches instead, it's rare she gets to feel studied, feel precious. Moonshine always makes her feel precious.
There's only one thing getting in the way of this perfect tender moment, whatever Moonshine's doing to her eyebrow tickles. Jaina tries and fails to hold in a snort.
"Something funny there, Bronzebeard?" Another ticklish pass of whatever torture device Moonshine is using.
Jaina summons as much of her willpower as possible and tries to sit still. “No no, I’m fine.”
“Uh huh.” Moonshine manages to press herself even closer, Jaina couldn’t possibly say if her grip on Moonshine’s thighs tightened before or after. “You sure?”
Moonshine’s question is quiet, so quiet that Jaina could lean forward if she wants, it would be perfectly reasonable, upstanding, honourable in fact, to want to hear the words spoken by the object of one’s affection. She nods instead.
Moonshine’s hand keeps her chin in place. “If you’re sure.” Her voice is honey, it’s low, it’s sultry, it’s sex. Jaina wants to hear it every day of the rest of her life, wants to see how much lower it can get, wants to know exactly what sounds she can pull from Moonshine.
The same sensation on the other eyebrow ruins her. As soon as the first swipe is completed Jaina’s shifting in the chair involuntarily, laughter and apologies mingling into incomprehensible mush. Moonshine doesn’t stop though, her thighs clamp tighter around Jaina’s.
“You gotta match. Don’t tell me a venerable warrior can’t handle having her eyebrows tickled?”
Jaina snorts another inelegant laugh, her leg involuntarily bouncing. Moonshine just whoops, lifts herself onto her thighs before sinking down again once Jaina stopped wriggling.
“It’ll take more’n that to unseat me.” Says Moonshine. She smiles down at Jaina, all teeth and smugness.
It’s probably not a challenge though. Jaina should be more disciplined, she doesn’t need to make everything a competition…
“How much more, would you say?”
“Why don’t you find out.” Moonshine replies and tosses her make-up bag onto the table.
Jaina rolls to the side while the bag’s still in the air. Moonshine’s quick though, anticipates it, shifts her weight the opposite direction. She’s magnificent, she’s perfect, and she’s going to lose. Jaina uses her grip on Moonshine’s thighs to tilt her backwards, Moonshine tries to wriggle away, but Jaina is too fast, lifting her own hips up to destabilise Moonshine further, then tilting sideways, rolling her off and onto the sofa beside her. She wins!
Jaina isn’t anticipating that Moonshine pulls her along for the ride. Before she can fight back, Moonshine’s fingers are skittering deftly along her sides to find the most ticklish spots, she exploits them mercilessly. Moonshine’s hands are all over her, her heavy breath in Jaina’s ear, body flexing and rising below Jaina’s. It’s everything she wanted, she can’t enjoy a moment of it. It’s war.
Jaina’s still laughing and breathless as she flips herself into Moonshine’s lap, later she’ll have the presence of mind to regret that she didn’t take time to savour the roll of their bodies together, the way it felt to lock her legs around Moonshine’s, but in the heat of it there’s no room for anything but winning. Jaina always wins, she has to, only disappointments come second. She grabs one of Moonshine’s hands, pins it to the cushion behind her. Then Jaina’s lost in Moonshine below her, the way she’s stopped fighting Jaina’s grip on her, the way she’s tilting her head up towards Jaina, her lips slightly parted, her eyes flicking to Jaina’s lips. It’s the perfect time to grab her other hand. It’s the perfect time to win. Jaina lets out a triumphant “Ha!” as she pins Moonshine’s other arm above her head..
“I win!” She’s flushed and she knows it, her hair’s mussed and she’s panting, but she’s the victor.
“I didn’t know we were wrasslin’, but I sure am happy here.” Moonshine’s breathing is heavy too. It’s gratifying to know that Jaina was a worthy adversary for her, even if she was bested.
It’s then, while Jaina’s caught in the secretive smug thoughts that Moonshine jerks her hands suddenly. Jaina slides forward, maintaining her grip, but she’s close enough to Moonshine to feel each breath.
Moonshine looks her dead in the eyes. “I reckon I could pin you.”
“Please.” It’s out of her mouth before she can stop it. Moradin, she’s completely disregarding all the rules. Moonshine has made her leave her better judgement so far behind her that she’s not sure she knows what the moral thing to do is in this situation. How could being closer to Moonshine be wrong?.
“Oh, you’d like that, would you? Me holding you down?”
“Yes.” She breathes it, can’t even bring herself to whisper it, barely dares speak it into existence.
She’s almost unaware of the motion as Moonshine rolls them from the sofa, straddles Jaina, pins her hands above her head. Jaina goes easy, doesn’t fight it, she can’t look at anything but Moonshine’s smiling, gap toothed face, can’t look away from the curve of her neck, the tilt of her full lips. Jaina wants to kiss her, more than anything she wants to kiss her. She can’t of course, it’s not right, Moonshine isn’t even aware she’s interested in courting her, she hasn’t had the chance to consider Jaina’s offer, has no idea what Jaina can provide as a partner. But it can’t stop the fact that Jaina wants and wants and wants.
“Looks like you’re at my mercy.”
Jaina nods, tenses every muscle to stop her from rocking her hips up, from pushing her head forwards hopefully.
Moonshine drops low over her. “Do I win something?” She’s so close the shape of the words ghost over Jaina’s skin.
Jaina can’t think, can’t bargain, want and need and guilt are roiling inside her and the guilt is slowly losing the battle. “Anything.” Hopefully Moonshine won’t notice how unsteady her voice is.
“I can think of something I’d like.” Moonshine releases her wrist, Jaina doesn’t move an inch. Moonshine’s hand cups her face again, make-up bag long forgotten but the tenderness still in her touch. Her thumb catches Jaina’s lower lip, drags along it. Jaina’s hips roll, involuntary, automatic, a mortifying lust filled motion. Moonshine grins. “How about you?”
Jaina nods, her traitorous lips kiss Moonshine’s thumb, pressing gently against the pad. She doesn’t want to stop, even as she tells herself she should. “Will you?”
Jaina doesn’t know what she’s asking, doesn’t need to because Moonshine’s lips are on hers, tender at first, a soft press, leaving her time to stop… she should stop. Instead, her hands are pulling Moonshine closer, her lips are parting hungrily, it’s everything she’s wanted and wanted and wanted, and Moonshine wants her right back. At least, she hopes Moonshine wants her, but why else would she be kissing her? No, she needs to pay attention, she doesn’t want to miss this, she wants to remember every second, every inch of Moonshine’s lips against hers. Maybe she can have what she wants, maybe it isn’t necessary to be constantly deprived.
Moonshine pulls away abruptly, Jaina strains upward, chasing her lips. Moonshine kisses her gently, just once more, brushes their noses together, but then pulls back again. “We shouldn’t…”
Ah. Of course. It was too good to be true. Jaina knows better than to get caught up, knows better than to think Moonshine would feel the same, but she had, and now Moonshine was hurt. “Oh. Yes. My apologies, Moonshine. I didn’t mean to cause any offence. I understand if you don’t feel able to forgive me, I can recuse myself from the band if necessa…”
Moonshine raises an eyebrow. “Lemme finish, we shouldn’t do this right now because any minute Hardwon and Bev will come barrelling through this door and we’ll never hear the end of it if we’re late because we’re necking.”
“Yes… that would. That would be embarrassing.” Her reply is tentative.
“But, I think we should pick this back up after the show.”
“I would be.” Jaina pauses. She’s not entirely sure what an appropriate reply is here. It’s too late entirely to revert to the usual procedures, but shame is welling in her stomach about the lack of formality she observed. “I would be amenable to that.” In fact, she already has some of the formalities prepared, she just needs to present them to Moonshine. “Why don’t you come back to my place?” There, that was perfectly acceptable.
Moonshine smiles broadly, “I didn’t think you’d be the type. Now c’mon, or Bev’ll be in here asking when we’re getting married.”
Jaina assumes that’s supposed to inspire fear in her, not longing. “Yes, a good point. That would be terrible.”
“Hey, you didn’t get a chance to see your make up yet.”
Jaina was far more interested in the distraction than the make-up it had distracted her from, but she goes obediently to the mirror. She’s flushed still, but the magic is plain to see.
“You… I…” Jaina’s jaw is broad, clear, and strong. Her eyebrows are bold, her lids faintly shimmering.
“Uh huh. I sure did, didn’t I? Frankly I can’t believe you ever doubted me.” Moonshine’s stood behind her, Jaina likes the shape of them together in the mirror.
“I have never, and I would never.” Jaina replies solemn and serious.
“You wouldn’t, would you?” Moonshine smiles, gently tucks a few strands of Jaina’s hair behind her ear. “Now, let’s get gone before they come a knocking, or not knocking as the case may be.”
#Sliding in just before the deadline with an#AUroulette2023#Naddpod fic#not another dnd podcast#Moonshine Cybin#Jaina Bronzebeard#Moonshine/Jaina#Band AU
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prince char/duncan vizla // 2.4k, m, royalty au // ao3 written for day 4 of fad’s au challenge: royalty
Objectively, the masquerade ball was turning out to be a stunning, decadent event. The ballroom glittered even lovelier than usual, the music was lively and bright, and everyone who was anyone was in attendance.
It was high time to find Prince Charmont a spouse, after all. His uncle had been pretty straightforward about that, although he hadn't yet followed through on any of the plans or preparations he'd relayed.
That was all just fine with Char.
He'd always hated the idea of marrying for politics, and he hadn't yet met anyone he was really, truly interested in.
Well, except for one.
As the song he'd been dancing to drew to a close, Char gave his partner his widest, most radiant smile—which hopefully didn't come across as forced as it felt—and bowed to kiss her hand. "Thank you for the dance," he said as she giggled and blushed. Fearing she might ask him for another, he stepped quickly backward, granting her one last grin and parting wave before he turned around and wove his way off the dance floor, toward the table laden with rich desserts and flutes of champagne.
He expected to feel his shadow follow him, but no such presence came. When he reached the table, Char glanced back behind him and frowned, scanning the crowd for Duncan's familiar grey hair or recognizable scowl. Strange—Duncan was always no more than a few quick strides away, ever since Char's uncle had hired him to be Char's personal guard.
Char had hated him at first for no reason other than the fact that his uncle had forced Duncan on him—had implied that Char needed handling by claiming he needed protection. But Duncan turned out to be different than Char expected. Over the past few months—nearly a year now, Char thought as he turned back to the refreshments—Char had come to appreciate Duncan.
To love him, even.
That first night, when their relationship had turned into something more than simple duty, was something Char didn't think he'd ever forget. They'd been skirting each other for a while by then, the tension between them as thick and hot as the humid summer air.
Char had known Duncan wanted him—Duncan might have been good at holding his tongue, but Char could see the glint in his gaze whenever he sauntered a little too close. The way his hands clenched at his sides when Char's breath misted hot over his face.
When he'd finally given in, it was with all the force and conviction of a river bursting through a dam. He'd crushed Char to him, had kissed him hard and messy and deep, his mustache and stubble scraping Char's soft, bare skin raw. Duncan had rent open whatever cage he'd been holding himself in, and he showed Char all the passion and animal intensity he had been holding back. He'd pushed Char back onto the bed and ripped his clothes off him, tearing the fabric away with little care for the integrity of the seams. Char had heard quite a few of them give, sharp little popping noises and crackling rips that delighted him to his very core.
Duncan had been rough with him in just the way he wanted, pushing him down into the bed and holding him there, fucking him deep with just enough preparation that he burned and stretched but moaned like a whore through every second of it.
Duncan had stayed with Char that night, letting Char pillow his head on his softly furred chest, and he'd held him close through the night, stroking through his tangled curls.
In the morning, Duncan had been conflicted but fond, a dichotomy of emotion that has stayed more or less true throughout these last few months of their dalliance. He'd tried many times to tell Char why, exactly, their relations were nefarious and ill-advised, but Char refused to hear it. He was hungry for Duncan—insatiable, really.
And it wasn't just lust, either. Duncan was smart and kind and seemed to care about Char in a way that no one ever had. It wasn't just duty—that he did and did well—it was something deeper. He connected with Char as a person, not just as the Crown Prince.
By the time the masquerade ball rolled around, Char was utterly, conclusively in love with Duncan.
His lips twitched as he considered just how he and Duncan might unwind from the festivities after the guests went home. Perhaps he'd even sneak a moment in during the party...
Char snagged two flutes of champagne off the table and braved the busy room once again—this time with a prize in mind. He managed to beg off the approach of interested men and women with a sheepish shrug and a lift of the glasses in his hand—So sorry, but I've a person and a destination in mind, don't you see?—and he caught sight of Duncan just as he circled around to the other side of the room.
Delighted and relieved, Char hurried over to him and thrust one of the champagne flutes to him. "There you are!" he called with a grin. "I was beginning to think you'd left me to the wolves."
Duncan frowned. He took the champagne but didn't drink it.
Char glanced down at the champagne and then up at Duncan's face, studying him a little more closely. He seemed... broodier than usual. Like something was bothering him.
Char gave him a sideways smile. "I mean, I know the party's bad, but I didn't think it was that bad," he teased.
When all he got was a brief twitch of the lips in reply, he leaned in a little closer. God, he wished they weren't in public. It was all he could do not to lay his hand on Duncan's waist and ask if he was okay.
"Hey," he said quietly, gazing up at Duncan with concern, "why don't we sneak out of the ballroom for a while?"
Duncan opened his mouth to protest, but Char shook his head, already starting on a path to one of the lesser-used halls. "Only for a few minutes," he said, beckoning for Duncan to follow. "Come on; I could use a little air."
Reluctantly, Duncan obliged him, and they made their way into one of the wings that had been marked off-limits for partygoers. It was pleasantly cool in the corridor, and only the wall sconces had been lit, so the whole hallway was bathed only in a moody orange glow.
Char took a swig of champagne and leaned heavily against the wall. "There," he sighed, tilting his head against the smooth stone. "That's much better. I can't believe the night's not even halfway over."
Duncan didn't join him but stood mutely in the middle of the corridor, his fingers playing with the thin stem of his champagne glass.
"Really, Duncan, what's the matter?" Char asked, letting pretenses fall. He hadn't seen Duncan like this in a while—not since he'd stopped fighting against Char and himself and gave in to Char's advances. "Was it Lady Pickerell? I know she was a little…effusive…but I've no more interest in her than in the others."
Duncan shook his head and looked down at the glass.
"Then what is it?" Char watched Duncan for a moment, then swallowed the rest of his champagne and set the glass aside. He went up to Duncan and let himself touch, now that they were alone. His palm cupped Duncan's bristly cheek, and Duncan's frown deepened even as he turned his face into the contact. "Duncan," Char murmured, settling his other hand on Duncan's hip. "You know you can tell me anything."
Duncan kissed Char's palm and stayed there, his lips pressed against Char's soft skin. Char melted at the touch; Duncan's love flowed through him like warm honey, traveling into his very heart. He didn't know how he could ever give this up—not for anyone. Not for anything.
They stayed like that for a long while, with Char's chest an open valve and Duncan slowly and steadily churning his emotions.
When Duncan finally dropped Char's hand, he eyed his champagne and drank it down in one long swallow, then set the glass on the floor.
"Char," he said, staring at a point just over Char's shoulder. A knot tightened in Char's chest. "Do you know why your uncle hired me?"
"He…" Char frowned, confused at the turn of their conversation. "He employed you to guard me," he said. He tried to catch Duncan's eye, but Duncan wouldn't look at him. "To… protect me."
Duncan grimaced. "No," he said.
Char stared at him.
Duncan didn't elaborate, and Char's heart kicked up in his chest. "No?" He emitted a helpless little laugh, more shock and discomfort than actual humor. "What… what do you mean, 'No,' Duncan?"
A muscle in Duncan's jaw jumped. "When your uncle hired me," he said slowly, as though each word were an arrow he needed to rip free of his flesh, "he hired me to kill you."
For a moment, the two of them simply stood there in mute disbelief.
"He…" Char tried. His brain was buzzing, the world around him shifting as though he'd had too much to drink. "I don't understand."
"Told me it was a simple job," Duncan said with a sniff. Self-deprecation laid over him as thick as one of his uncle's fine velvet capes. "All I had to do was act as your guard for a little while, then when the threat of suspicion passed, I would…" He trailed off and dropped his gaze to the floor. "I'd do it."
"No." Char shook his head, fighting off images of his uncle's intent expression, that hungry look he acquired when he spoke about the kingdom. Char thought of Duncan holding him as they slept, the way Duncan looked when he came. Pictured him wrapping his hands around Char's throat, or running him through with his sword. "No, I— I don't believe you. He wouldn't—"
"Char," Duncan said. He swallowed hard, his arms hanging limp at his sides. "I'm not a good man. And your uncle…" Duncan's lip curled. "He's not a good man, either."
"But it doesn't make any sense! Why would he want to…" The words died in Char's throat. He considered how closely his uncle watched him. How much his uncle enjoyed being regent, and how little he involved Char in kingdom politics.
Char's chest burned. He blinked rapidly and stared off down the corridor.
"I'm sorry," Duncan said gruffly.
The one person—the only person—that Char had ever come to trust, had ever come to love… And it turned out Char had been nothing more than his target all along. Deceived by both the man he was in love with and the man who was meant to love him as a son. Char wasn't sure there could be a grander betrayal.
He sniffed and swiped at his eyes, then threw out an arm widely in invitation. "Well? What are you waiting for, then? I've given you the perfect opportunity. Go ahead and take it; I'm sure my uncle will be pleased."
Pain cracked the wretched expression on Duncan's face. He closed his eyes and tilted his head back, shook his head. "I'm not going to hurt you."
"Why not?" Char crossed the distance between them, getting right up in Duncan's face. He felt himself beginning to flush, and his body trembled slightly with fear or hurt or rage. "It's what you're being paid for, isn't it?" He glared at Duncan, his lips curling in a hateful twist.
"Char…"
"Do it!" Char shoved a hand between them and yanked Duncan's dagger free of its sheath, stumbling gracelessly back when it came loose. He thrust the hilt against Duncan's chest, pressing it insistently just below his ribcage. "Go on and do it already! What are you waiting for?"
"Charmont!" Duncan grabbed Char by the shoulders and held him still. Duncan's lips, pressed tightly together, wobbled with pain, and his eyes were wet with unshed tears. He drew in a deep breath and stared at Char for a long, tense moment. "Listen to me." He paused and wet his lower lip. "My loyalty to your uncle ended a long time ago. I would take my life before I even considered hurting you. I swear it."
Char's breath quivered. Suddenly, he could hold it back no longer, and he lost his grip on the dagger, which clattered to the floor. Tears spilled out over his heated cheeks, and he buried his face against Duncan's neck, wrapping his arms tightly around Duncan's broad body. Duncan embraced him and settled a hand on the nape of his neck, pressed his cheek to Char's hair.
"What are we going to do?" Char asked miserably, his voice muffled in Duncan's throat.
Duncan sighed and tightened his grip. "You'll have to make a choice," he said slowly. "Your uncle wants me to act soon. Before long, he'll know something's amiss."
"I can't fight him." Char laughed again, helpless. "Am I meant to take on the whole kingdom?"
Duncan was silent. After another moment, Char pulled back just enough to look up at him. "Duncan?"
Duncan gnawed on his lip. "There is another option," he said. "We could leave together—the two of us."
"Leave?"
"Could do it tonight." Duncan pushed back a lock of Char's hair and stroked affectionately over his cheekbone. "I have a home in a kingdom up north. It's isolated. No one knows it's there."
Hope and terror swelled in Char's chest. His heart sped. "Abandon the castle?"
"Just for now," Duncan said. "If you want to return, you can. After we've gathered allies and formed a plan."
Char frowned. "But… if we both leave, my uncle will know you've betrayed him."
Duncan made a gruff, assenting sound.
"That doesn't bother you?"
Duncan shook his head. "I've no need for your uncle's regard." He leaned in and brushed his lips against Char's. "You're all that matters to me now."
Char wrapped his arms around Duncan's neck and kissed him back, smearing his tears against Duncan's cheeks. "I love you," he said, and Duncan's grip on him tightened.
He reached for Char's hand and squeezed it, drawing back. "Gather your things—only what you can carry. I'll meet you at the stables."
Char nodded and let out a shuddering breath, wiping once more at his face. He started to turn away, but Duncan reached out for his shoulder. "I love you, too," he said. Char beamed, and Duncan's lips quirked into a smile. "Now, go."
#hannibal extended universe#prince charmont#duncan vizla#heu fanfiction#fadserver#mine#mine: writing#yippeeeee sliding in just under the deadline with this one lol
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the fun of having put out the "bj's moustache is gay culture" post while also headcanoning first and foremost that whatever bj is, it's not actually gay but something way funnier and more fucked up
#what im saying is that hawkeye is sometimes bj's wife but not in a gay way#it's the opposite in a way of how frank burns desires hawkeye carnally and is so mad about it being really gay#and that hawkeye is queer in a gender and a sexuality way that means he can slide into whatever mold someone else desires#and margaret is a transmasc who will give herself that crew cut when she's in her 60s#and everyone will mistake her for a lesbian but actually she's gay for men#but hawkeye can be a girl for her if he wants#bj and frank both represent the lie of the american dream but in different ways#(that is they both went to war on a promise about smthinsmthin american duty masculinity etc)#but while I'm absolutely on the frank is gay choo choo train#idk with bj it just seems a bit boring as a read to end it there imo#especially as it's generally agreed upon that his character was so broadly written#i prefer to play in that broadness personally but hey if u wanna tag that post as gay bj i get where that comes from#ilke yeah for sure the moustache is gay culture - 70s gay culture#also tbh to get serious for a sec it was very weird getting into the mash fandom while this whole thing was going on#and i think it kept me from getting totally into it from the first jump - lot of judgement on headcanons#lot of *this is all of fandoms opinion on xy thing and if you say something different you're wrong*#lot of treating headcanons and meta as serious discussion pieces rather than just... engaging with a piece of fiction#(this not about analysing outdated elements of the show am talking the character and not-so-serious meta)#all of this to say: pls dont be weird on this post they're called headcanons for a reason#it's 2pm and i am pulling an all-nighter to hit a deadline#we're feeling fragile gents
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the most difficult part about group projects is not doing everything yourself
#to be serious i obviously want to respect everyone's time and efforts but sometimes it's genuinely very difficult to find a balance between#evreyone contributing in ways they would prefer and the output being good. what do you do when someone is bad at something yet enthusiastic#if this was baking a cake or something else i wouldn't give a shit but this is university and we have constructed but objective guidelines#clearly this is only a problem if you're a bad person like me who prioritizes results over how people feel in situations where we're graded#i am as polite as possible but how do i gently say let me do everything over for you#what makes this even more difficult is my own inability to start things early so this problem is double my fault - at the point#where i would have my thing done others have completed their work already before so i'm always overstepping#even if i'm ready before the deadline as well. the others are just faster overall#i'm fully aware how arrogant and insufferable i am and this is btw i know the people working with me are extremely talented in their ways#and carry skills i don't have etc etc but fuck some of the things i have to redo are sooooo simple and this way of working#is extremely inefficient because on top of doing my own work i have to look over the work of others and i know that's because i want#to do so and it's not their fault but at the same time they all did say they're aiming for the highest grade so what gives#i'm actually the worst person to have as a group work member </3 genuinely horrible. i've decided for now just let what is there slide and#emphasize giving credit about all the work the people have done rightly to them and then just quietly fix it later for the final submission#shit talking
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naw fuck it nvm i'm wayy too tired to continue tonight. but the next and final step is getting on that black hawk and taking a magical flight under the ominous eclipse, amidst the apocalyptic blood red sky. lovely <3
#bee blabs#i will have to grind tmrw sighhhh#but there rly isn't much to go now !!#i just gotta keep on top of it and chip away throughout the day#i will be pushing deadline BIG TIME but hopefully the mods will let it slide#(she says sparkly-eyed in hope)#i have been working my ass off and my ass hurts okay#these 10k+ words haven't been me mucking about oh no#this was an ambition i committed to#bc OFC i had a vision and i wanted it done right#yeah stupid bee getting too big for their britches again#it's fineee i just hope it's all worth it in the end#for now tho i gotta sleep so i can get up and get to the final stretch of this madness
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OFF LIMITS – rafe cameron ¡ (08)
social media & irl AU !
pairing brother's best friend!rafe cameron x brat!reader summary you slide into a random boy's dms on instagram, anything but expecting him to end up being your brother's best friend, let alone the person you'll be spending your summer vacation with. while resisting Rafe and his lingering gazes was an option, you found yourself in the constant loop of crossing the line; said line being your brother. ch content mature content, nsfw; making out, nipple sucking, teasing, hickies, praise, dry humping (?), pet names, sexual tension, fluff!! sneaking around, fights and arguments, angst
NAVIGATION. series masterlist | 07 ! 08 ¡ 09
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Your skin burned; heat radiating off your entire body throughout the whole meeting. Rafe’s gaze pierced holes through you, unable to keep his eyes away from you, even with your father mere inches away, the small distance barely separating you.
The meeting soon came to an end, a sigh of relief escaping your throat the moment the elders shot up from their seats, shaking your parents’ hands as they bid goodbye’s. You scrambled to hide behind your mom, awaiting Rafe and your brother’s leave; just in case the latter puts you in the spot, offering to drive you back, and make things even more awkward than they were.
After the incident with Ryan, you both tended to be more careful, sneaking around to spend time with each other once everyone fell asleep (like literally… you’d make Rafe double check whether Ryan fell asleep, not choosing to put yourself at risk with the situation). It was oddly thrilling, though your words spoke otherwise, you found joy in telling Rafe off as he drags you to a dim corner away from everyone’s eyes, a rush of adrenaline pumping through your veins the moment he connects your lips with his, the gesture assuring you in a way; pushing your worries down the pit of your stomach.
Ryan was also keeping watch, although Rafe brushed off his assumptions, the latter insisted the phone was yours, growing more suspicious when Rafe snatched it before he could get a hold of it. Hiding the whole thing from your brother felt as if something bitter lodged in your throat, one you couldn’t bring yourself to swallow down.
It was horrible, with the thrill and giddiness came worry and guilt, that even if you were happy, the voices in the back of your head would hold you back, reminding you of the hell you created out of yourself. You were at a point where all you could do was wait, enjoy each moment in hopes of it lasting forever, merely going with the flow for the sake of happiness you’ve forced yourself to appreciate, though it wasn’t worthy of, no amount of assuring convincing you otherwise.
The deadline for your trip was approaching, with each passing second, minute, hour. And for that, you chose to push down your emotions, enjoy the company of your friends while they were within reach, knowing you weren’t going to see them for the next months; years, even. And Rafe, yeah, the mere thought of dealing with the long distance had you stressing, unable to handle him being a few hours drive away.
In that short while you spent with your friends had a lasting impact, influencing a big part of your life, one you weren’t aware was missing. It was as if this trip was meant to heal you, pay off all your pain in sorrow with the company of others, even if not much was being done, as you spent most of your time hanging out on the beach near the Airbnb.
You were still grateful, though, impatiently waiting to get home after your friends suggested a girls’ night out. You swiftly agreed, because who were you to refuse? Besides, you didn’t fully dislike the idea of it, as it would probably help get your mind off things.
You hurried to get changed upon your arrival, sprinting up the stairs with the intention of saving yourself a bit of time. You took an everything shower, styled your hair, did your makeup, and picked something out to wear, not wanting to delay your leave any longer, and waste the precious time your friends spared you.
Everything was fine, until it came to finding your desired pair of shoes. A puzzled expression settled on your face once you realized your Converse were nowhere in sight, almost as if they vanished into thin air. You searched the entirety of the closet for them, growing panicked when Cleo soon seeked your presence, asking whether you were ready.
“I can’t find my converse,” you answered, eyebrows knitting with frustration. “I’m sure I put them here, where did they go?”
“Your converse?” Clep questioned, tilting her head as she observed the now mess of a closet. “I think I saw them in the garage, are they white?”
“Yeah,” You perked up at that, standing to your feet in an instant. “Why are they in the garage?”
“Girl, I don’t know.” Cleo chuckled, shaking her head. “You should grab them, we’re leaving in a few.”
“Lifesaver.” you sighed, planting a brief kiss to her cheek before you were off to the garage, entering from the door attached to the kitchen.
You fanned away the dust fogging your vision, attention shifting to the sun invading the space through the slightly open garage door. You quickly got to searching for your shoes, yelping with excitement when you spotted it lying around, along with your pair of white crocs (God knows how these ended up here). You hurried to put them on, struggling in the process, and sighing with relief after you managed to insert one of them around your foot.
Your action cut short, breath hitching as a familiar hand sneaked around your waist, halting you in your spot. You wasted no time to turn around, eyes widening in shock when your gaze landed on Rafe, a knowing smile leisurely dancing around his lips at your reaction.
“You showed up.” He whispered, pressing a kiss to the corner of your lips. “You took so long, I didn’t think you would.”
“What are you doing?” Your lips parted in a gasp, shoving the latter by the shoulder. “The garage door is open, Rafe. What if someone saw you?!”
“What, I can’t see my girl now?” His gaze flickered to your lips, leaning his arm over the chair you made yourself comfortable on. He then leaned forward, capturing your lips in a soft, yet deliberate kiss, instantly interrupted once you shoved him away. “God, I’ve missed you.”
“Missed me?” You repeated through gritted teeth, “Were you the one who stole my shoes?”
“What? No!” He said in between giggles, the cockiness in his tone immediately giving away the white lie. “You know I would never.”
“You idiot!” You huffed, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear. “You’re gonna get us caught if you keep doing this.”
“You barely make time for me now,” he pouted, watching as you strived to put the other pair of shoes on. “I had to take action, since someone is playing hard to get.”
A scoff escaped your throat at the snarky comment, firmly tying the shoelaces into a knot before you stood to your feet, straightening your back to catch glimpse of Rafe, whose eyes followed your every move.
“What if I never wore my converse?” You snickered, pursing your mouth into a thin line to suppress the smile tugging at your lips. “Then what, would you have still waited for me?”
“Without a doubt,” he replied with no hesitation. “I knew you’d wear them, though; you always do.”
“Whatever,” you playfully rolled your eyes, disregarding the way your face flushed with heat, expression giving your shyness away. “I need to leave.”
“So soon?” His eyebrows curled with disappointment, as he pressed one of his hands to your hips, using the gesture to pull you closer. He tilted your head with the tip of his fingers, instantly crashing his lips into yours in a teasing kiss, teeth lightly grazing over your bottom lip before he pulled away. “I jus’ got ahold of you,” and another kiss, “care to spare me a few minutes?”
“This is not working on me, Rafe.” You pushed him off, though you fully melted in his hold, wanting nothing but to get a taste of his lips again. “You know I can’t, Sarah will kill me if I’m late.”
“There you go with Sarah,” he huffed, rolling his eyes as he moved away, giving you enough space to get through. “I don’t want you to leave.”
“Well, I’m sorry.” You giggled, scrunching your nose at his reaction. “I’ll be back soon, don’t be upset.” You glimpsed around, eyeing the place carefully before you grabbed his face, not giving Rafe time to process the situation before you were leaping him in a soft kiss, one bidding him goodbye, and leaving him craving more. “Bye, I’ll miss you.”
At that, Rafe grins, admiring as you walked away, now creating somewhat of a distance between you two. He waved his hand in your direction, swaying his body back and forth with mere giddiness. “Text me!”
You nod in response, chuckling before strolling your way in your friends’ direction, instantly flashing Sarah an apologetic smile upon catching glimpse of her sulky expression.
Rafe stretched his arms over his head, letting his eyes fall shut as a groggy groan escaped his throat, the action falling interrupted when he turned in the door’s (the one leading to the kitchen) direction, and spotted Ryan, whose glare puzzled Rafe, unable to read his mind, and know what he was thinking.
“Ryan,” He nervously started, “How long have you been here?”
“Not long,” the latter mumbled, exhaling through his parted lips. “Wanted to check why this door was open.”
“Oh,” Rafe relaxed, partially due to the explanation, pausing before he continued. “Do you need anything?”
“Nope,” he shook his head, “I got takeout, wanna eat?”
“Sure.” Rafe nodded, following in Ryan’s steps when he took his leave, and making sure to close the door once he was inside. His eyebrows quirked upon his gaze landing on the table, confused on why there was no food plated on the hardwood. “Where’s the food?”
“On the porch.” Ryan dismissed, escorting Rafe outside. He took a seat on one of the chairs, quickly joined by rafe as he reached for one of the boxed foods splayed on the table. “Help yourself out.”
Ryan didn't need to tell him twice as he dug in, munching on his food while admiring the rocky waves. It was a beautiful sight, calming Rafe in a way, though that didn't last forever as he took notice of the latter, who stuck to playing with the noodles instead of eating.
“Why aren't you eating?” Rafe asked, addressing Ryan with his chin. “Do you not like it?”
Ryan remained silent, gaze yet fixed on the food in his lap, letting silence seep in before he cut through it. “I saw you earlier.”
“Me?” Rafe scoffed through a mouthful of food, leaning back in his chair. “When?
“In the garage, with my sister.” Rafe almost chokes when Ryan replies, mouth stilling for a moment. “You know, Bug; the same girl you referred to as a sister.”
Fuck. He knows.
Rafe’s heart drops at that, fully abandoning the food he had in hand, tossing it on the table as he casually spins in Ryan’s direction, a mere attempt of maintaining a calm expression, as if he wasn't a panicking mess deep down.
“What do you mean?” He feigned oblivion, blinking far too many times for his liking.
“Don’t bullshit me, Rafe.” Ryan stifles out a sarcastic laugh, turning to face Rafe, who despite his cool expression, turned red with nervousness. “You know exactly what I’m talking about.”
“I don't.” Rafe lied through his teeth, gulping when Ryan straightened up, getting off the chair in an instant.
Ryan gave Rafe no time to process the situation, swinging a punch to his face, immediately causing the latter to stumble back, fully taken aback by the gesture.
Sure, they’ve had their fair share of arguments, but it never got this bad; to the point where they needed to involve violence.
“You’re fucking my sister, huh?” He then punches him again, and in that moment, awareness washed over Rafe, as he realized this was it. The truth was out, Ryan found out. “Out of everyone, you go for my sister?!”
Rafe sat there, didn't even bother swinging back, or defend himself, hence he knew he deserved it. He hid this for far too long, letting the guilt build up instead of owning up to it and being honest with his best friend. He let Ryan yank him up, then throw him to the floor, then proceeded to relax as he threw another punch to his face, completely wrecking his features with bruises that formed within seconds.
“I thought you were my best friend,” Ryan grunted out, now pressing Rafe to the floor with his knees locking him in place. “I told you,” a punch, “not to fucking” and another, “touch my sister!”
Rafe almost laughs at the statement, choosing to swallow it down, as his friend was already furious; he’d completely lose it if Rafe were to open his mouth, let alone laugh.
He couldn't help it, though, giggling when he caught a glimpse of Ryan’s upset expression, perhaps not taking the situation as seriously as he truly should.
Ryan pauses at that, eyebrows curling with confusion, as to why the latter suddenly erupted into a fit of chuckles. “Why are you laughing?”
“God, you’re ridiculous.” Rafe muttered through a breath, causing Ryan to perk with pent-up anger.
“What did you say?” Ryan mumbles through gritted teeth, failing to hold himself back.
Rafe straightened in his position, groaning once he pushed Ryan off, letting the latter fall to his side. His lips gaped in pain, hissing when his fingers brushed over the bruise near his mouth upon noticing the blood gushing out.
“Is that all you’ve got?” Rafe asked, a smug smirk slowly tugging at his lips.
“You want me to fuckin’ kill you?” Ryan spat out, face fuming with anger. “You think my sister is a whore? You can sleep with her and call it a night? Huh?”
Rafe’s teeth clenched at that, tugging Ryan by the collar of his shirt. He yanked him back, veins trailing a path to beneath his buzzed hair, unable to contain himself, nor fight the urge to maintain patience.
“Don’t cross the line, Ryan.” He threatened, tone serious, as well as the expression smothering across his face. “Say shit like that one more time and I’ll fuckin’ kill you, y’hear me? I could easily take you down; kill you if I wanted, but I won't, ‘cause you're my best friend.” He then paused, seeking Ryan's gaze through his foggy vision before he continued. “I won't let you assume shit, okay? You can't say bullshit like this and expect me not to say anything.”
“Assume? You’ve been hiding the whole fuckin’ thing from me.” Ryan scoffed, ridiculed by Rafe’s words. “You know how I get when I’m angry, Rafe, don’t fucking tempt me.”
“Let it all out, Ryan.” Rafe let go of him, holding onto the chair for support to get himself off the ground, quickly standing to his feet. “I like her, and I’m willing to do anything to be with her, even if I lose myself doing it.” Rafe grabbed his phone from the table, along with his wallet, as he inserted them in the back pocket of his jeans. “I’m not letting her go, no amount of convincing could change my decision.”
Ryan sat there and watched, gaze following Rafe as he strived to take his leave, immediately disappearing out of the latter’s sight. Telling (?) his best friend felt like something heavy getting off his chest, though he still had plenty to worry about. It was nice, knowing he won't have to hide his feelings away anymore.
He planned to keep the incident between him and Ryan for now, not wanting you to find out, just for a fight to break down between you and your brother. For now, the least he could do is avoid you, favorably till his bruises healed.
And that’s exactly what he did. Rafe never left his room, even after you came back, sticking to texting you instead, and refusing to see you, though you hinted your want to meet him.
The latter wasn't budging, brushing off your attempts by changing the topic, and before you knew it, night has approached, later followed by you falling into deep slumber, only realizing you fell asleep after randomly waking up in the middle of the night to your phone abandoned on your pillow, after your many shots of convincing Rafe to see you.
He’ll come around, you were probably going to see him during breakfast tomorrow.
Or at least you hoped.
Rafe never showed up for breakfast.
You were confused, cluelessly staring at your food while your friends filled the room with chaos, failing to notice the disappointment sprawling across your face.
You’ve grown used to the teasing comments Rafe would throw in your direction, wishing he was there to at least keep you company. You miss him, so much, it was driving you crazy. Throughout your nearly two months of staying here, this is the longest it's been since you last spoke to Rafe, or seen him in person; and that alone had you spiraling with frustration.
Something was wrong. It wasn't a typical lazy morning for Rafe, as he always manages to squeeze in a bit of quality time, despite how hectic his schedule would get. This time around, he didn't even bother explaining the reason behind his sudden disappearance, remaining a mystery with each time your curiosity grew.
That of course, lasted till the afternoon, when you fortuitously stumbled upon Rafe as he sneaked his way out to the bathroom, not catching glimpse of you down the hall; staring him down with a million thoughts wandering through your head. He clicked the door shut, taking the opportunity for granted when you strolled your way in his direction, disregarding the fact that others could see you, and only focusing on Rafe, while you patiently waited for him to exit the bathroom.
The sound of the door unlatching made you perk up, breath knocking out of your chest when your gaze landed on Rafe, who froze, a look of discomfort instantly spreading on his face. His face, it was bruised, freckled with purple patches that covered a decent amount of his features, you almost didn’t recognize him.
He muttered out your name through a breath, not looking too fond of getting caught in this condition, clearly uncomfortable with you trying to read his expression like you knew exactly what happened, and how he was feeling. With a gulp, the latter started again, tone evident, in contrast to his emotions. “What are you doing here?”
“What happened to your face?” You asked, reaching out for his face, merely for the latter to dodge it as he grasps your wrist in between his fingers, holding it firm and in place.
“Nothin’, I got drunk and accidently got into a fight.” Rafe lied through his teeth, loosening his hold around your hand. “Don’t worry about it.”
“You didn’t leave the house yesterday, Rafe.” You exclaimed, in response to his deceiving statement. “Who did this to you? Was it Topper? Did he show up while we were gone?”
“C���mon,” he clicked his teeth, giggling to brighten the mood. “You think I’m that weak?”
“This is not a laughing matter, Rafe!” You huffed, eyebrows knitting with frustration. “You were jus’ fine, how did you get all these bruises?”
“Baby, it’s nothing, like I said, I got drunk and–” his sentence was cut short as he jolted back, the muscular figure in view causing you to gasp before you stumbled back, eyes immediately widening in shock upon catching sight of Ryan, now pressing Rafe to the wall.
“‘Fuck are you doing, Rafe?” He asked through gritted teeth, tightening his hold around the collar of Rafe’s shirt when the latter remained silent, leisurely fluttering his eyes shut in response. “Didn’t I warn you, can’t you jus’ fuckin’ respect me for once?”
Rafe scoffed at that, angling his head back as he stifled out a laugh, hands landing on top of Ryan’s, before he shoved them off, slyly fixing the collar of his shirt. “You’re full of shit.”
“What did you say?” Ryan moved forward, fingers clutching into a fist at Rafe’s words, aiming to swing at him, merely for you to interfere with the arm you pressed to his chest.
“What is going on here?” You questioned with disbelief, gaze flickering between your brother and Rafe, hoping for an explanation, an answer, at least.
“It’s nothing, don’t worry about it.” Rafe assured, addressing you with a tight-lipped smile. “Jus’ go back to your room, I’ll catch you later.”
“Motherfucker,” Ryan spat back, venom filling the void in his tone. “You’re doin’ this to piss me off, aren’t you?”
“I can’t tell if you’re being serious right now…” you muttered under your breath, confusing no one but yourself. “Why are you fighting?”
“Why are you involving her?” Rafe mumbled, jaw clenching with anger. “Might as well jus’ tell everyone else, huh? Yeah everyone, my sister and my best friend have feelings for each other, and I’m a lil’ bitch that can’t handle things not going my way, so I decided to break things off between them, then beat my friend into a pulp to feel better about myself.”
What?
Your lips parted in an inaudible gasp, halting in your tracks at the truth, and the reason behind their argument. Fuck, Ryan found out.
He’d have to find out one day, you knew that, but right now? Your heart instantly sunk to your stomach, breath heaving with each exhale departing your lips, unaware of what to do with yourself, and the new information that practically slapped their way into your brain.
By the looks of it, Ryan did not handle the truth well, hence the proof was evident on Rafe’s face.
“I asked one thing of you, Rafe.” Ryan stated, “One thing; don’t fucking touch my little sister, and what did you do? You go n’ kiss her? What, you expect me to sit back and be happy about this?”
“What do you wanna do?” Rafe’s face twisted with irritation, arms moving in front of his chest as he straightened up, now invading Ryan’s personal space. “What, you’ll try to separate us? I already fucking told you, I’m not letting her go, Ryan. I– I like her, so much; you of all people should know how serious this is for me.”
“Go fuck yourself for all I care.” Ryan choked out a sarcastic laugh, “I know you, you’re a fucking asshole, and a scumbag who only cares about himself, don’t come talkin’ about serious shit, I know you won’t treat my sister well.”
“You’re overstepping it,” Rafe started, tone serious, a slight warning for Ryan. “Don’t make me do somethin’ I’ll regret.”
“Yeah?” Ryan mocked, getting under Rafe’s skin. “What are you gonna do?”
“Stop talking.” You interrupted, sighing aloud with exasperation. “Just shut up, what if someone hears you? What will you tell them?”
“But–” Ryan started.
“Don’t.” You beat him to it, fluttering your eyes shut before you continued. “Go to your rooms, and handle this privately, please. Don’t start saying dumb shit only to regret it later on.”
At that, both of them fall quiet, letting silence seep through the air, atmosphere heavy with tension that could kill. Ryan took a moment to collect himself, before wandering back to his room, knowing if he spoke he wouldn't stop talking.
As for Rafe, the latter stared into the void, watching as you walked away, knowing he can’t speak up, in case he says something and ruins things for himself, messing them up more than they already were. Instead, he observed as you disappeared off to your room, lingering for just a moment, in hopes of seeing you for a few seconds, a mere glimpse, if that was too much to ask for.
Disappointment washed over his chest once he realized you were gone, hopelessly heading back to his room, with the intentions of locking himself in there forever, maybe until he reflects on the dumb decisions his mind keeps suggesting, letting the voices in his head take over each time he was in the slightest bit agitated. However, that wasn’t long, as he was pulled out of his head when a soft knock erupted through the door, that if not for the silence, Rafe wouldn’t have heard it.
His brows curled with puzzlement, hesitating to unlatch the door, only twisting the doorknob when another knock came through. Rafe’s chest raised at the sight of you, straightening up when he came in view, slightly taken aback by your presence. His gaze trailed down to the first-aid kit in your hold, heart quickening in pace upon realizing your reason for disappearance.
The air filled with comfortable silence, Rafe didn’t dare cut through it, merely moving to the side to let you through, with you quietly accepting the invitation as you let yourself inside. Rafe shut the door, before he followed in your steps, deliberately approaching you as if not to startle you, admiring while you unpacked the boxed medicine in the process.
A smile threatened to tug at his lips, fading in an instant when you turned, addressing him with your sharp gaze, that he somehow couldn’t read, falling blank since earlier.
“Sit.” You ordered, dipping a q-tip in the rubbing alcohol that came with the kit.
Rafe did as told, shoulder bumping into yours in the process of getting himself to the bed. He made himself comfortable on the edge, angling his head back to make it easier for you to apply the medicine.
You tapped the ointment to the bruise near his mouth, hushing out an apology when he hissed in pain, continuing to clean up the wound, though it was probably too late now. You still wanted to do it, though, guilt settling in the pit of your stomach once you found out it was your brother’s doing.
“I knew it.” You whispered through a shuddered breath, swallowing down the lump in your throat. “I’m sorry, I didn’t expect him to be this upset when he found out.”
“Why are you apologizing?” Rafe spoke, regretting it as he grunted in pain, his now disinfected wound burning when he moved his mouth. “It’s fine, I know how he gets when he’s angry.”
“You’re both idiots.” You scoffed, a smile twitching at the corner of your lips. “Why were you provoking him, then?”
“For fun.” He chuckled, letting tension linger in the air.
You continued disinfecting the bruises, almost crumbling as his arm instinctively found the curse of your waist, fingertips rubbing soothing circles to the exposed flesh around your side. You tried not to react to the touch, feigning oblivion to his legs locking you in place, giving you no chance to escape him, or the desire pumping through your insides.
“You’re so pretty.” Rafe’s voice abruptly broke out, earning your attention as you stopped what you were doing, feeling heat crawl past your neck, all the way to your face.
“Well, you’re not.” You teased, covering your flusteredness, wrapping up the first aid kit once you were done. “You’re busted, don’t get beaten up again.”
Rafe squeezed your hip at the playful statement, chuckling along with you, though that gesture of his was desperate, speaking for all his wants and needs. “I’d gladly take another beating for you.”
Your heart raced in your chest, mouth pressing into a thin line to suppress the smile tugging at your lips. You hated how sappy the snarky comment was, making you feel shy like a girl with her first crush, as if you’ve never experienced anything romantic before.
“You’re an idiot.” You hushed out, almost gasping when Rafe’s fingers lightly tugged the waistband of your shorts, leisurely slipping them underneath, just enough to receive a reaction out of you.
A hum of content rummaged out of his chest, tilting his head back even more, until the yearn in his gaze was visible, and in view, unable to hide it anymore. He fluttered his eyes up at you, pupils dilating with need, as new found tension seeped through, unlike the other times something bloomed between you two.
This time, it was different, body submitting each time his touch would linger, clearly expressing the keenness heavy in his heart, now finally able to showcase it through action, with no one to interrupt, nor guilt to interfere.
No thoughts were thought, no words were said, both of your minds were blank, full of emotions, and hushed desire. A breathy sigh stuttered out of your chest, fingers lightly grazing Rafe’s arms as they leisurely trailed up his shoulders, till you reached the crook of his neck.
You engulfed his neck in your hands, thumbs gently pressing to his adam’s apple when you tilted his head back more, hinting that you were just as eager as he was, unable to put an end to the yearn eating through your heart, eventually aiming to do something about it.
“Fuck.” Rafe muttered under his breath, fingers landing over yours.
He wasted no time, immediately standing to his feet as he captured your lips in a kiss, knocking a breath out of your chest in the process. You stumbled back, slightly taken aback, though you quickly adjusted to the situation, slowly moving your lips over Rafe’s, able to taste the blood on his mouth.
It was bittersweet, raw, full of emotions, speaking louder than you can put into words. Rafe’s lips moved with a motive, hot breath fanning over yours as he licked and nipped at your mouth, taking the gasp you let out for granted to slip his tongue in between your parted lips, and letting the warmness of your mouth engulf his own.
His tongue met yours halfway through, a whine muffling its way out when his teeth grazed over your lip, aiming to explore every part of your mouth, even if it meant spending the rest of his life here in this moment. You tasted so fucking good, hell, eve better than the last time he’s kissed you.
Rafe was drunk on your lips, not a thought behind his eyes as he stumbled back, littering sloppy, open-mouthed kisses to your hot mouth in the process of sitting himself down, tugging your head downwards with him. You almost chuckled at the gesture, action interrupted when he pulled away, eyes hazing with pure lust.
Loud breaths heaved their way out of his chest, lips parting with a glossy layer of spit. His hooded pupils dilated with yearn, hands exploring your body like no other, unable to keep them to himself. His fingers tugged at the hem of your shirt, sloppily pushing it up before his mouth found the plush of your stomach.
Your head tilted back with pleasure, eyes forcing shut as you took in the sensation of Rafe’s tongue swirling around the low of your stomach, nibbling on the skin for a reaction out of you. He’d linger for a second, planting a soft kiss over the spot to soothe away the pain, and hell, did it feel good.
He savored every bit of skin, whatever kept his mouth busy was not preventing him from caressing your body, worshiping you like you’re the only thing that matters. And you were, in Rafe’s eyes, things could not get any better, he’s wanted nothing but to do this, taste you, do this without the voices in his head lecturing him over the consequences of his actions.
“So perfect.” He muffled, thumb pressing to the material of your bra, while yet holding your shirt in place. “Fuckin’ killin’ me, everything you do drives me crazy.”
“Rafeee," you whined, (holding onto his non existent hair) fingernails digging to his shoulders, the sensation earning a grunt out of Rafe, yet littering love bites to your stomach.
He nipped and kissed the soft flesh, one of his hands kneading the plush of your ass, using the pressure of his hold to push you down, causing you to almost fall as you landed in his lap, immediately straddling him, and making yourself comfortable.
You adjusted yourself around the boy, almost shuddering when his hardon brushed over your ass, swallowing down your nervousness when his gaze leveled with yours, not breaking eye contact. His stares burned holes through you, you felt shy, and the need to get away before you melt in his arms.
A sly smirk tugged at his bruised lips, tongue toying with his teeth as he leisurely tugged your shirt with both of his hands, slipping it over your head, until you were left with the thin fabric of your bra.
His eyes hungrily trailed to your cleavage, throat running dry when he gulped, vision going blurry at the sight of your boobs perfectly sitting in place, begging to be touched and caressed by him.
“You sure about this?” He asked for consent, letting his gaze flicker to yours for a brief second.
“Mhm.” You nodded, sweeping him in a quick kiss, forehead connecting with his once you pulled away. “Now do somethin’ please.”
“No need to say it twice, baby.” He whispered, licking into your mouth. One of his hands sneaked its way to your back, landing around your bra, swiftly unclipping it, until the straps fell loose around your arms.
A wave of nervousness came crashing, watching with haste as Rafe froze, eyes flickering to your half-exposed nipples, now freckled with goosebumps due to the chilly breeze invading the hidden flesh.
Rafe carefully hauled the strings down, till they were off your arms, freeing your chest from that stupid bra. Rafe’s mouth salivated at the sight, the bulge in his pants twitching with need. They were perfect, I mean, come on, Rafe was no virgin, but seeing you like this has no reason making his mind race with all sorts of thoughts, like a loser about to have sex for the first time.
This was better than his imagination, so much better than letting his head wander off to how you’ll scream his name when he fucks you, tits bouncing beautifully while you ride his cock. It was a sight, one that made him feel dumb, and idiotic, for even thinking he can have you.
“God,” he groaned, cupping one of your tits in his hold. “Such a fuckin’ brat, always makin’ me feel dirty.”
Your back arched, chasing after the fraction of his thumb rolling your now hardened nipple in his fingers. You were insanely turned on, the sensation making your brain fuzzy, now dizzy all over. And if you thought that felt good, then you were wrong, completely jerking in Rafe’s arms when his mouth captured your nipple in between his lips.
His mouth glided over the skin, coating it with a layer of hot spit, as he swirled his tongue just around the hard nub, causing you to yelp with pleasure. His teeth lightly grazed the sensitive flesh, mouth pooling with thirst, cherishing every second of this like a man starved.
He sucked and nibbled, marking your flesh, and hissing when your hips rolled down, panties soaked with your juices. You couldn’t help it, despite Rafe’s hand pressing to your side, you continued, chasing after the sensation of his cock brushing over your ass through the thin material of your sheer sleep shorts.
“Fucking hell, doll, ‘that feel good?” He asked, squeezing your tit when you stuck to nodding. “Words baby, lemme hear you.”
“Feels so good, Rafe.” You muttered, Rafe’s crotch brushing over your clothed, slick folds with each time you grind your hips down.
“There you go.” He mewled out, “Be a good girl n’ show me how good I make you feel.”
Your body tingled all over at the statement, grinding down with all your might, as you feel your climax building up. Rafe, too, took notice of that, halting your hips in place to earn your attention.
“Wait.” He mumbled, lips parting in a shaky exhale.
“What?” You asked, fluttering your eyes open to catch glimpse of Rafe.
“Don’t.” He warned, “Wanna make you feel good.”
Oh.
Oh.
“Hmm?” You hummed, slightly feeling shy under his gaze.
“We have all night, baby.” He stifled out a teasing laugh. “I wanna take my time; appreciate each and every inch of you.”
Rafe’s lips collided with yours in a soft peck, thumb rubbing soothing circles to the curve of your jaw.
“Let me take care of you.”
That was it. The only assurance you needed. You wanted this, more than anything.
Fuck the world, hell might as well get fucked too.
smut continuation
a/n all support is v much appreciated!! this one is my fav despite how poorly written it was 😭 i tried to portray the fight scene and the tension in a somewhat decent way but this is all i can manage sorry fellas </3 but yeah phew ryan finally found out... didnt handle it well but 😜 anyways!! next part might be an extra of their first time... pure smut continuing this chapter so lmk if you guys are interested HAHA won't guarantee it being good but... yeha!! its not a necessary read, doesnt add anything to the plot, but i still kinda want to do it yeahh!! with that being said, lmk your thoughts on this chapter <33
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#rafe cameron#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron x brat!reader#rafe cameron smau#rafe cameron social media au#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe cameron fluff#rafe cameron angst#rafe cameron smut#rafe obx#rafe outer banks#rafe x you#outer banks#drew starkey
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an: a continuation of these perv!nanami headcanons. im a journalist for my work and i had so many deadlines this past week. sorry for slight inactivity !!!
synopsis: nanami knew he was in trouble when you mentioned you were a virgin. he's been obsessed with bedding you ever since then
cw: perv!nanami, creampie, overstimulation, slight power imbalance, virgin afab! reader
nanami felt his own heart pounding when he opened the his apartment door for you. you looked so sweet, so delicate in the mini soft pink sundress you wore. your lips upturned into that shy flirty smile of yours that always drove him crazy. you looked good enough for him to eat whole.
he wondered if his intentions had been clear enough when he invited you over for the first time. unknowingly or not, you teased him relentless for weeks and weeks, from batting your doe eyes at him to slowly, day by day, showing up to his office at work in a much more revealing outfit than yesterday. you made him mad with lust.
and now he has you squirming on his couch, panties soaked and pulled aside with his thick fingers sliding in and out of you, thumb rubbing on top of your clit.
"that's it princess. you're doing so good," he says softy into your thigh, digging his fingers even deeper inside you. "need to stretch you out first."
"p-please i can't..." you mewl out. "it feels too g-good!"
"i know, i know. don't fight it, stay with me love." he reassures. determined to give you your first orgasm, he took out his digits and fully removed your pretty pink panties, diving into your wet heat, savoring and licking up all your deliciousness. the deep heat you felt down inside blossomed into a bright, mind numbing feeling that took over your whole being, as if you were floating on a cloud.
"good?" he asked.
you nodded, your head in a haze. never in your life have you felt this good, and you didn't want him to stop.
"im going to fuck you now. okay?"
"o-okay..." you watch him strip down to boxers, wondering how much trouble you would be in taking his girthy length.
"just relax," he whispers hovering on top of you, throwing your legs over his shoulders.
you felt his tat tip rubbing at your slick entrance, feeling every inch of him slide into you until he was fulling seated. it felt like he was slowly ripping you apart.
"kento, it hurts..." you whine.
"shh..ill go slow."
your pussy was intoxicating, so tight and snug around his cock, like a fitted glove. the fact that he was even fucking your little virgin pussy made him want to cum instantly, but he refrained, fucking deep long stokes into you.
"so fucking good," he moaned. "like you were made for me."
your eyes started to roll into the back of your head with pleasure as each stroke of his fat cock filled your pussy up. the living room filled with your soft whimpers and moans that made nanami's cock impossibly harder.
"i want to cum in your sweet little pussy. will you let me?"
too much of a daze, you nodded your head yes. loads and loads of his warm cum filled deep inside your womb. nanami pulled out, leaving the rest of the sticky substance to drip on to your inner thighs.
you didnt realize how tight you were gripping nanami's shoulders until he pulled off you, red finger marks rippled along his collarbones.
still fucked out, you rolled into his arms, where he holds you so dearly as if you were a piece of fine china he was scared to drop.
"good girl," he mumbled into your hair. "taking my cock so perfectly."
next time he would fuck you even harder, faster. he wanted to absolutely drunk on his cock, like it was only thing you knew. and since he was so blessed to be the one to take your virginity, he wouldn't let anyone else inside you.
#jjk smut#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen nanami#nanami smut#nanami kento smut#nanami x reader#nanami x you#nanami x y/n#kento nanami#nanami x fem!reader
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I need a fic where pregnant reader feels so gross and unattractive but she doesn’t realize Soobin is so down bad for pregnant her. Like he goes out of his way to show her just how turned on he is but nothing works, until one day he presses himself against her and it finally clicks for her and she gets the nastiest wetted sex of her life like he’s trying to get her pregnant again like ugh
⧼ 🍼 ⧽ ── GROWING PAINS 。
soobin needs you to know just how much he loves your new body。
╭♡ pairing 。〃choi soobin x fem!reader ! genre 。〃pure smut , fluff ! warning 。〃minors do not interact! pregnant!reader , husband!soobin , pregnancy kink , lactation kink , breeding kink , dirty talk , praise kink , sub top!soobin , handjob (m.rec) , oral (f. rec) , mentions of unprotected sex
a/n 。〃not proofread ! my first time writing pregnant!reader, so let me know if it sucks! also take a shot every time i use the word “nipple” lol
♡ ⸝⸝ ꒰ 1.7k ꒱ ‧ ꒰ m.list ꒱ ‧ ꒰ reblogs and feedback appreciated! ꒱
you had found a lot of solace in baking as of recent— it was one of the few things you could still do this far along in your pregnancy, big belly and aching joints always getting in the way of everything else. you just couldn’t stand the thought of laying around all day, wasting all of your maternity leave doing nothing except waiting for your husband to come home from work. you had to make yourself useful somehow.
you hear the front door open just as you slide your pie into the oven, the soft jingling of keys reaching your ears as your husband drops them in the trinket dish you keep in the hallway. before you can turn to greet him strong arms wrap themselves around your protruding belly, soobin’s tall frame hunched over to bury his face in your neck, plant sweet kisses to your skin.
“i’m home, bunny,” he mumbles against your collarbone, his trail of kisses slowly leading down your shoulder. “how are my perfect girls doing?”
“hi honey, you’re home early,” you giggle, turning your head to give him a kiss; he hums against your lips, big hands rubbing your belly through the loose dress you wore. he was always extra touchy after getting home from work, but this was odd even for him. he must have had a bad day, you thought. “‘m all sore ‘n tired; the twins woke me up from my nap and i couldn’t go back to sleep so i decided to make dessert early so it’ll be cooled down by tonight.”
“mm, you’re so good to me. i’m sorry the babies are bothering you, honey,” soobin replied, pressing his body flush against yours. “the boss let me go early; i finished up that project he wanted done before the deadline, he said i needed to go home and help out my wife. go rest and i’ll take care of you, i’ve been thinking about you all day, baby….”
“oh, sweetie… well, i wouldn’t mind a hand in cleaning up the kitchen—“ you start, but stop dead in your tracks— you can feel soobin’s cock against the swell of your ass, thick and heavy through his slacks. he rocks his hips up against you gently, an almost inaudible whimper falling from the bunny lips he buried in your hair.
“binnie,” you whimper, arousal pooling in your belly despite your shock, “you’re hard.”
“‘m sorry, bunny,” he groans into your ear, deep and dripping with desire. it knocks the wind out of your lungs, makes you gasp against his lips when he leans in for another, filthier kiss. “you’re just so sexy, i’ve been needing you so bad… thinking about your beautiful body all day while trying to get my work done..”
you frown at the words ‘beautiful body’, squirming in your husband’s grip. he notices in an instant, your sweet husband always so perceptive to how you were feeling; whining and pouting those plump bunny lips you adored. “i don’t understand why you’re so self conscious… god, you’re so perfect— this is the best you’ve ever looked, you look so beautiful carrying my children, baby. it makes me so fucking crazy, you have no idea…”
“really..?” you turn to look at him, and his eyes lock with yours— the raw hunger you find in his gaze is unlike anything you had ever seen before from your sweet, shy husband.
his hands caressed your tummy and hips, slid up your sides to cup your swollen, sensitive tits, bare underneath your dress. the gentlest squeeze was enough to get you to gasp and moan, your puffy nipples threatening to leak, soobin drinking up your reactions like he wishes to drink your milk. “let me show you how much i love your body, please…”
⸝⸝
“binnie, oh my god, slow down! you’re gonna make me cum again!” you wail, your hands shaking as they tug at the hem of your little dress. you couldn’t see your husband over the swell of your belly, but you could feel his lips and tongue hot and heavy against your pussy, sliding up between your pussy lips to swirl around your clit. you were still recovering from the last orgasm he slurped out of you, your pussy drunk husband refusing to let up his onslaught of pleasure even as you cried, begged, and tugged at his hair— far too soon was that dizzying pleasure building back up in your tummy, your thighs shaking in soobin’s grip as he pushed you further and further to the edge.
“fuck yes, do it, cum for me!” soobin moans with his mouth full, tongue dipping deep into your hole, big hands tightening their grip and tugging you impossibly closer. “cum on my face, baby, please! make a mess—!”
his desperation does you in; you cum again with a sharp cry, your overstimulated little pussy pulsating uncontrollably as soobin eagerly laps up every drop of your release. you soak your thighs, your dress, and the bed underneath you— and, as soobin presses a kiss to your clit and pulls away from your slippery pussy to shoot you a silly, satisfied smile, you can see that you’ve soaked the bottom half of his face as well. it drips from his chin as he crawls up over you, his eyes slowly trailing from your flushed face down to your quivering tits.
and just as he takes in the sight of your heaving chest, his eyes widen and his mouth drops agape. confused, you follow his gaze… and take in the sight of two identical wet patches seeping through your white dress, your puffy nipples visible and budding noticeably through the fabric.
you had leaked milk in the midst of your climax.
“oh god,” you whine shamefully, raising your hands to attempt to hide the mess. “i’m so sorry, don’t look—“
soobin grabs your wrists in a rush before you could cover yourself, big brown eyes still glued to your tits. “fuck, bunny..” he marvels, licking his lips, “did i make you do that? that’s so sexy, holy shit—“
“s-sexy?” you stammer, shocked at his reaction. soobin nods.
“can i touch?” he asks in almost a whisper, eyes finally leaving your chest to blink up at you wantonly “please let me touch you, please..”
a hesitant “okay…” was all that he needed, instantly letting go of your wrists to tug down the top of your dress and take large handfuls of your breasts. more milk leaks out onto his fingers from the rough handling, making him groan deep in his chest as he marvels at the sight of the pearly white droplets cascading down the swell of your tits. your spent, sensitive pussy throbs at the sound, your husband sounding so unbelievably ruined and needy.
“so pretty…” soobin mumbles, wet fingertips beginning to pinch and tweak at your embarrassingly hard nipples. “my wife’s so pretty with my babies in her belly. gonna be such a good mommy… god bunny, i want to keep you pregnant forever, all full of me, claimed by me, so everyone knows you’re mine—!”
his fingers tighten harshly around your nipples, the pressure causing your milk to squirt out obscenely; soobin watches in awe, his eyes hazy and unfocused as he pants like a dog, kneads your sensitive swollen tits rougher and rougher. you fist the bedsheets and writhe under his touch, your high-pitched, broken gasps and moans reverberating off the walls of your shared bedroom— briefly you have half the mind to pray that your neighbors aren’t home.
soobin dips his head to nose along the contours of your breast, his hot breath tickling your skin; those spit-slick bunny lips just barely ghost your bud, a jolt of electricity shooting down your spine as his tongue sneaks out to lap the lingering milk off of your skin.
he looks up at you with watery eyes, smirk plastered on his lips at your pathetic whimper. “can i.. can i have a taste?” he asks quietly, deep voice octaves lower than you’ve ever heard it. “let me taste you…please, baby, i can’t take it anymore…”
you nod desperately, throwing your head back against the pillows, and soobin shoots you a deadly smirk before sealing his lips around your nipple.
he lets out a deep moan as his mouth fills with milk, sucking with a voracious hunger; you cry out in pleasure, letting go of the sheets to grab desperately at his dark hair. you tug mindlessly at the strands as his suction deepens, soobin letting out the prettiest choked whimper that goes straight to your quickly wetting pussy.
he sucks until your tit runs dry, pulling off of your irritated bud with an obscene string of saliva— wordlessly he moves on to your other neglected nipple, his fingers coming back up to play with the one he released. the combined sensations are almost too much for you, your shaking legs wrapping tight around soobin’s trim waist; you can feel the curve of his rock hard cock grind against your dripping cunt, drenching the thin fabric of his boxers and aiding in the delicious slide of his hot fat shaft against your slit. your pussy suddenly feels so painfully empty, your hips bucking in desperation as soobin empties your other breast of milk. “you feel what you do to me?” he mumbles against your flesh, hips picking up speed, “feel how hard you make me?”
the hand you had in soobin’s hair trails down his chest to his straining cock, rubbing his twitching shaft through his boxers; soobin cries out around your nipple, his hips stuttering, and you can’t help but giggle as you dip your hand below his waistband.
the tip of his cock throbs an angry red, thick fat shaft slapping wetly against his taut belly. “all this for me?” you purr, gathering the precum dripping from his cockhead to slick up your hand; it only takes a few slow pumps of his cock to get soobin begging, your poor husband wound up and aching for release.
“please, please baby, let me fuck you— i gotta fuck you, i’m so hard it hurts,” he whimpers, releasing your tit with a wet pop, “gotta fill you up, put more babies in you… gonna be such a happy family..”
what kind of wife would you be to say no?
#txt x reader#soobin x reader#txt hard hours#txt hard thoughts#txt smut#txt fluff#soobin hard thoughts#soobin hard hours#soobin smut#soobin fluff
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12 Days of Desire ⸺ Kento Nanami
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author's note ⸺ MERRY CHRISTMAS! Here is a lil something for the holidays, just a lil smutty blurb. pairing ⸺ Kento Nanami x reader content ⸺ 18+ SMUT, MDNI, oral sex (reader recv.), overstim., fingering, Nanami being sexy asf, full fledged mating position, reader has a vagina, reader uses female pronouns
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The 12 Days of Desire 'adult advent calendar' was a bold purchase—one you hadn’t quite expected your boyfriend, Kento Nanami, to agree to.
Yet, there it was on the kitchen counter, with its sleek, black-and-gold packaging and an air of understated mischief.
You had giggled when you saw the name, and though Nanami’s face had remained as stoic as ever, you could swear there was a flicker of curiosity in his gaze as you brought it to the register.
Now, on the first day of opening it, you and Nanami stood together, the morning light casting a golden hue over the kitchen.
You carefully pressed a finger against the thin cardboard flap marked "1" and peeled it back. Inside was a neatly folded red card. Pulling it out, you opened it and read aloud:
"Silent Night"
“No sounds tonight—just let your bodies do the talking.”
You glanced at Nanami with a mix of amusement and bashfulness. He tilted his head slightly, his lips curving into the faintest of smiles. “That’s... specific,” he remarked, his tone dry but his eyes warm.
You laughed, setting the card down on the counter. “Well, I guess we’ll have to save that for later. When we’re both home and not thinking about deadlines.”
Nanami adjusted his tie, his expression softening further as he nodded. “Later it is, then.”
—
The day passed as it usually did, with both of you immersed in your respective workloads. You finished work earlier than Nanami and arrived home just as the sun dipped below the horizon.
Deciding to make the most of the extra time, you headed upstairs to change into something more comfortable—an oversized sweater that draped over your frame, paired with a pair of Christmas-themed panties you’d bought on a whim.
The playful holiday pattern made you smile as you adjusted the hem of the sweater, letting it skim just enough to hint at the festive design beneath.
As you stood in front of the mirror fixing your hair, you heard the familiar sound of the front door opening, followed by the quiet shuffle of Nanami’s shoes against the floor.
“Kento?” You called out, your voice carrying down the staircase.
No response. You frowned slightly but shrugged it off. He was probably putting away his things or caught up in thought. It wouldn’t be the first time. Returning to your dresser, you barely had time to register the soft creak of footsteps on the stairs before he appeared in the doorway.
“Hi,” you greeted, turning toward him with a smile. But instead of replying, Nanami crossed the room in measured, deliberate strides.
“Kento?” You asked again, tilting your head in curiosity.
But before you could say anything more, his hands were on your waist, pulling you close. His lips found yours in a kiss so fervent it stole your breath. The heat of his touch and the firmness of his embrace made your thoughts scatter like leaves in the wind.
It hit you then—the card.
“No sounds tonight…”
You let out a muffled sound of surprise, but Nanami didn’t falter. His hands roamed, sliding up your back and down your sides with an urgency that belied his usual composure.
His silence wasn’t cold or distant; it was commanding, a wordless way of communicating everything he wanted and everything he intended to give.
Your back met the edge of the bed as he guided you toward it, his hands never leaving your body.
Nanami eased you down, towering above you with his tie already loosened, the top buttons of his shirt undone in a way that revealed the hint of his toned chest.
He leaned down, capturing your lips in another kiss that was slower this time, more deliberate. His tongue teased the seam of your mouth, coaxing it open until you melted under him, giving yourself fully to his lead.
Nanami’s hands moved with purpose, sliding your sweater up and over your head before discarding it to the side.
His lips didn’t leave your skin for long, trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses down your collarbone until he reached your soft, swollen tits.
Nanami’s mouth worked skillfully against your skin, drawing a soft gasp from your lips as he lavished attention on one breast, his tongue circling the sensitive peak before sucking gently.
His hand on the other breast mimicked his mouth’s rhythm, fingers rolling and tugging until you squirmed beneath him, a quiet whimper escaping you.
His lips trailed downward, leaving a heated path across your stomach. When he reached the waistband of your festive lace panties, he paused, his eyes flicking up to meet yours.
You nodded, giving him the permission he didn’t need to ask for. With that, Nanami’s fingers curled around the fabric, sliding it down your legs with an unhurried precision that made the anticipation almost unbearable.
The cool air against your exposed skin sent a shiver up your spine, but it was quickly replaced by the warmth of his breath as his face settled between your thighs.
He took his time, his lips and tongue tracing along the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, teasingly close to where you wanted him most. The faintest flick of his tongue against your folds made you jerk, a soft cry slipping past your lips before you could stop it.
Nanami’s eyes darkened, his grip on your thighs tightening. “Quiet,” he murmured, the barest hint of a smirk tugging at his lips.
But he didn’t make it easy.
His mouth found your clit, his tongue swirling in slow, deliberate strokes that had your back arching off the bed. He alternated between gentle flicks and firmer pressure, keeping you on edge, your breaths coming in short, ragged bursts.
Your hands gripped the sheets, your body trembling as he continued his slow, torturous rhythm. When his fingers joined in, sliding into you with an ease that made your toes curl, the moan that escaped your lips was anything but quiet.
Nanami reacted instantly, his free hand moving to cover your mouth, his palm firm against your lips as he shot you a look that was equal parts commanding and amused.
“I said, quiet,” he whispered, standing up from his position between your thighs to look down at your flushed face.
Before you could react to him, Nanami shifted, positioning himself over you as he unzipped his grey-ish dress pants.
His shirt was still half-buttoned, the fabric brushing against your sensitive skin as he lined himself up. He paused just long enough to meet your gaze, his eyes asking a silent question as you watched his thick cock spring free from his pants.
When you nodded, he pushed into you in one slow, deliberate thrust that stole the air from your lungs.
Your hands flew to his shoulders, nails digging into the fabric of his shirt as he set a steady, deliberate pace, his movements controlled but intense.
The soft creak of the bed and the sound of your bodies moving together filled the room, and despite your best efforts not much effort was made tbh, small, muffled cries escaped you.
Nanami leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, “I told you to be quiet, didn’t I?”
His hand firmly covered your pretty lips once again, maintaining the pressure as his pace quickened. The slight edge of dominance in his actions only heightened the intensity, your body reacting instinctively to the way he held you in place, the way he claimed you completely.
But then, just as you thought you’d grown accustomed to the rhythm he set, Nanami pulled back slightly, his free hand sliding down to grip your thighs.
His strength was undeniable as he pushed your legs toward your chest, folding you into a position that left you completely exposed to him.
“Stay just like this,” he muttered, his voice low and commanding, his hand tightening around the soft curve of your thigh to keep you in place.
The new angle had him sinking even deeper into you, his cock brushing against a spot so sensitive it made your body jerk beneath him. The sensation ripped a muffled cry from your throat, your nails digging into his shoulders as your vision began to turn white.
Nanami didn’t falter. His hips moved with purpose, each thrust precise and devastating, the force of his movements making the bed creak beneath you.
His grip on your thighs didn’t waver either, his fingers pressing into your skin as he held you exactly where he wanted you.
Your muffled moans and the tension in your body were all the encouragement he needed. His thrusts grew harder, deeper, his composure fraying as his own release built.
When he finally reached his peak, his body shuddering above yours, he buried his face in the crook of your neck, his hand still covering your mouth to muffle the cries you couldn’t contain as you too felt the wave of pleasure overtake you.
The two of you stayed like that for a moment, catching your breath as the room filled with the sound of your slowing heartbeats. When Nanami finally pulled his dripping self out of you, his hand releasing you mouth, he pressed a soft, lingering kiss to your sweat slicked forehead.
“You didn’t make it easy,” he said, his tone dry but his eyes warm as he helped you settle back against the bed.
You managed a tired laugh, your body still tingling from the aftermath. “Hmmm, I’ll try harder tomorrow.”
Nanami raised an eyebrow, a small, rare smile tugging at his lips. “Tomorrow?”
You grinned, your exhaustion no match for the spark in your eyes. “It’s only the first day of the calendar, Kento.”
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author's note II ⸺ I did not edit this at all so imsosorry
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Bratty!sub!Jinx x soft!dom!reader
The project deadline came to a close today. You had been working diligently since early morning to meet the customer's edits on time. But it was fine. You were well paid, and despite the lack of time, you would have been able to meet the deadline.
"Are you doooone already?" Your girlfriend's impatient voice interrupts your concentration for the sixth time that day.
"Almost." you respond without turning around, determined to stay focused.
She lets out a frustrated sigh and stands behind you. "You said that an hour ago!"
“That almost was at 80%. This almost is at 90%.” You comment looking at the screen making her groan at your explanation.
"I'm booooored. Pay attention to me," she pleads, wrapping her arms around you.
"I need another hour to finish this," you insist.
She huffs in annoyance, but – to your surprise – doesn't continue to complain. Instead, she stands behind you quietly, observing your work.
It was a mistake to think she would drop it. Just when you thought you could concentrate on your work, her hands found their way to your breasts, gently massaging them.
“Jinx.” You say her name in a calm tone but with a subtle warning. You don't make a move to stop her, hoping she would understand the unspoken message.
“What is it, toots?” It appears she didn't catch on.
“You are distracting me.”
“By what? This?” She asks giving your breasts a firm squeeze. “Come on, it’s just a… a massage!” A small chuckle escapes her lips.
You choose to stay silent and remain stoic, hoping she will eventually lose interest and leave you alone. However, after two minutes of her playing with your breasts, it becomes clear that this strategy is not effective.
"Jinx!" you growl, removing her hands and shooting her a glare. She takes a step back, giggling at your reaction.
"Can’t handle a small touch, huh? It takes so little to rile you up."
Such attitude make you snap.
It was almost complete, around 99% finished. Just a small amount left and the task would be done. There was nothing more satisfying at work than completing a major project.
"T-toots…" you hear a whimper under your ear.
"Mm?"
"I… I c-can’t anymore…" Jinx stutters, trembling in your lap and clenching at your shirt.
"I’m sure you can, love. Isn’t it what you wanted? Me to play with you?" you coo in soft voice. Too soft for someone who was punishing her by sitting on your strap for almost an hour.
You make small movement of your hips, creating torturous friction with her drenching pussy, making her let out another choking gasp.
"Y-yes… b-but…" she buries her face in crook of your neck. She was barely holding.
"Just a bit longer, Jinx."
She bites her lip hard to stifle a moan, remaining as still as possible despite throbbing ache between her legs. She didn’t have strength to protest now.
After four more minutes, you finally complete your task.
"Stand up and bend over." You order as you tidy up your workspace, moving the keyboard and mouse aside. Time to give your pretty girl your full attention.
Jinx obediently stands up, wincing slightly as your shaft slips out of her. A trail of juices follows, dripping down her trembling thighs. She turns and bends over your desk, bracing herself against the smooth surface with her hands. She looks back at you over her shoulder with pleading look in her eyes.
You raise from chair and position yourself right behind her, fingers trailing possessively up those quivering legs to grip her hips. Your strap slides teasingly through slick folds.
Without warning you thrust forward hard, burying whole length inside her cunt in one fluid motion. Jinx cries out sharply, her back arches and pussy clenches desperately around sudden invasion, fluttering and rippling along the shaft as it stretches her open.
You mouth waters at the sight of her body writhing in delicate surrender. You pull back until merely the tip remained nestled within but only to slam forward again with merciless precision, setting a deep, steady rhythm designed to torment and satisfy in equal measure.
"F-fuck..!" she sharply cries out, head dropping to rest on folded arms as she pushes back to meet each deliberate pump. Wet lewd sounds of skin slapping against skin echo obscenely through the room, mingling with Jinx’s increasingly desperate moans.
"Such a good girl, Jinx… taking me so well…" You purr affectionally, watching your strap disappear and reappear, coated in her juices.
She practically sobs at the praise, her inner walls clench and ripple, milking the strap even more. The coil of pleasure in her belly tightens to almost unbearable levels, threatening to snap at any moment. Her legs tremble beneath her, threatening to give out as she hangs precariously on the brink of orgasm. "P-please..." she begs, her voice a raw plea, "M-make me c-cum... I n-need it so b-badly..."
You hum in approval and increase the pace, pistoning into her with swift, punishing strokes, making sure to rub against her throbbing clit.
Jinx’s cries turn into incoherent babbling as the strap hits that sweet spot within her repeatedly. Each thrust sends jolts of electricity coursing through her veins, her body tensing and shaking beneath the onslaught.
With a final, brutal plunge, orgasm crashes over Jinx like a tidal wave. Her vision whites out as she convulses around your shaft, inner muscles milking the length with frenzied contractions. Her screams echo off the walls as she comes undone, utterly consumed by ecstasy.
"There you go." You murmur subtly rocking your hips to carry her through climax until she collapses onto the table, breathing heavily and fully spent.
You lean down to place tender kiss on her shoulder as you wait for her to calm down.
Little does she realize that you are far from done.
#arcane#jinx#jinx arcane#jinx x reader#jinx x fem!reader#jinx x y/n#jinx x you#jinx smut#arcane x reader#arcane smut
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NSFW
I think it would be so hard for Toji to deny you of anything when you're upset to the point of crying. You always act so passive about things that bother you, for him, because he rarely falls apart on you, so who are you to dump your emotions on him like that?
You come home from a really bad day at work that never allowed your headache to cease. Everybody was turning things in late, nobody was working to beat their deadlines—extended deadlines— and you were the one who took the hits for it all, as the leader of your group. You were one more mentioned member of your team away from snapping at your boss. Thankfully, you were allowed to go home after that talk.
Toji got home before you, so he had some time to wind down from his own stressful day, but the minute you walked in, he knew there was something wrong. You barely acknowledged him, a small smile being all you offered him, before you dragged yourself to your shared bedroom. No 'hi, baby' followed by you literally tossing yourself onto him, or even a 'wow, you're home before me?'
That didn't slide with him like you may have thought it would.
He got up after waiting two minutes for you to come back out. You never did, so he went after you, immediately spotting you face down on the bed. Your body was trembling, your shoulders jumping with your sobs. It was a strange sight, but it didn't make him feel any less concerned for you. He strode over to your side, resting a palm on your back. Your body was rigid with tension, your shoulders unable to drop because of it. He's sure you'll complain about the pain once you've calmed down a little more.
It was hard to get you to talk, but eventually you spilled every detail of what made you feel this way. Toji couldn't relate to your patience. If he were disciplined for other people's actions despite doing his job of trying to catch them up and reminding them to do things, he would be livid. You aren't like that, though. Things happen at work. Things that lure out frustration, anger, and overall feelings of wanting to implode and instead of leaving it there at work, where it belongs, you bring it home. You've clearly reached your breaking point.
"Want me to kill them?" He asks, feeling you shake your head against his chest in response. "Might just do it behind your back if you come home like this again, ma. Dead serious," he says, noting that you still haven't fully relaxed in his hold. "No reason you should ever be this stressed over people not doing their jobs. Fucking idiots, acting like children because they know it all weighs down on you."
You wanted to cry again at the way he tightened his hold on you while he defended you. You sucked it up and moved off of his chest, and when he looked down to see what you were doing, you kissed him. Your hand went beneath his shirt and felt up his warm, sculpted abdomen.
Clothes were removed and you now sat on his lap, his cock deep inside you. He knew you needed this despite how you were so distraught when he came into the room. He couldn't turn you down when you asked if he could be as close to you as he could. He knew you needed to release some steam, but he didn't expect it to be so calm. You laid your head on his shoulder, your arms draped around his neck while he held you close, his hands resting on your back.
Toji cooed at you, when you started sniffling, again. Slowly but surely, you were releasing all those bottled up emotions, your tears landing on the bare skin of his shoulder.
"Shh... it's alright. You don't have to think about anything, right now." He presses a kiss to your shoulder and then one to the side of your neck, before moving his hips a little, luring some quiet sighs from you. "Yeah, let me take care of you, mama. Just gotta breathe for me. That's all you gotta do, 'kay?"
You nod against his shoulder and allow him to bring both of you, soft, intimate, and unhurried pleasure. Your moans were light and airy, your whimpers soft and muffled by his skin.
Toji's orgasm rolled in before yours. His generous amount of release coated your walls, heavy and ragged breaths grazing your skin. In his head, he blames it on being able to become a safe space for you and his ability to provide protection. Your emotions were unconfined and you confided in him to soothe you. The mixture of physical intimacy and his comforting words was enough to calm you down. Your shoulders weren't tense anymore, and you were able to melt into his embrace.
Your orgasm had your body quivering against his. The sound of your rapid breathing was all you could release into his neck, your nails dragging across his shoulders through the intensity. He smiled softly, satisfied when you let out the smallest squeak.
"That's it, baby. Good girl. Just relax." He strokes your back, stilling his hips once the zenith of your pleasure passes.
Once the adrenaline dies down a little, you go back to rest your head on his shoulder, retightening your arms around him. Toji keeps stroking your back, his other hand resting on the back of your head.
"You're not going to work tomorrow. You have... let's see... food poisoning and you can't move without feeling like you're gonna blow chunks." He can feel your laughter against him, your shoulders jumping as a positive gesture compared to how he found you, luring a smile onto his face. "I'm not taking no for an answer either. We're both out tomorrow, 'cause I can't leave you here to die. Alright?"
"Okay," you mumble.
#toji#fushiguro toji#jjk toji#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen toji#jujutsu toji#toji fushiguro#toji fushiguro x reader#toji x reader#toji x y/n#fushiguro toji x reader#toji smut#toji x you#toji fluff#toji fushiguro x you#jjk fushiguro#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen scenarios#jjk scenarios#jjk fluff#jjk smut
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