#that way the taste isn't all concentrated in the front of your mouth before you swallow it

[hitomisuzuya]

hellooooo ^^ i'd like to request modern uni au kinda, where scara and y/n live together and their domestic life mostly pleaseee :> extra fluff with smut toooo

I absolutely adore the way you write scara in ANY au / version of him,,, its just feels so him djhtfkjyfkyt i love your writing so much O_O

scaramouche x fem!reader. fluffy fluff fluff. smut. fingering. clit stimulation. college au.

aww thank you so much❤️ i hope this turned out to your liking 🥺 you guys can pick what is cooked here. but for the sake of smooth narration, and because i got this idea from making a frozen pizza, that's what i wrote in.

scaramouche knew he was serious about you the moment he kissed you for the first time, drunk at the party, devouring your mouth with his tongue after you had just chastised him being an asshole.

he hasn't wanted anyone so badly ever since.

the following year, being the trust fund boy that he is, he splurged on a luxurious apartment right outside of campus to move into with you. and honestly, he is quite enjoying domestic life. it's quiet, peaceful and he got to wake up next to you every morning.

life is spoiling him in areas he never thought it would. to him, you are way out of his league. so far out of his league that you weren't even playing the same sport. yet, he hit a home run anyways and locked you down.

to be fair, the chores are split down the middle. more often than not though, scaramouche did your chores in the morning for you if you were nervous about an exam and wanted to study a little more that morning, or if you didn't feel well.

usually, the cooking is left up to him. since his mother couldn't cook, he had been dead set on perfecting cooking growing up. anything to be better at something that his mom could never be. good at.

today in between classes, you insisted that you wanted to make lunch today. you flashed him the cutest smile with an even cuter blush on your cheeks and declared you wanted to prove that you are future wife material.

he stood next to you in front of the oven, where a pizza sat baking perfectly positioned on the center rack. you even left the oven light on so you could keep an eye on it, glancing up at the kitchen timer ticking away on top of the stove. you have such a determined, concentrated expression on your face.

"you know staring at it isn't going to speed up time," he couldn't help but tease. you just look so fucking cute.

you let out a shy squeak. "i know, it's just..i am nervous. it's my first time making anything for you. i know there is no way for me to mess this up but still," you glance up at him for a moment before looking away shyly, "i have something to prove after all."

how cute you are so afraid of messing up in front of him.

scaramouche sighs, putting a hand on your head. "stop being so nervous. i am going to eat it no matter how it turns out." you followed the directions down to an exact tee. he is sure not even the great gordon ramsey would find fault with your method.

"scara, that's not the point. i want it to taste good," you reply a little exasperated. "i don't want you to just eat because i made it. i want you to eat it because it's good," you cock your hip restlessly, looking back at the oven light.

"you are way overthinking this," scaramouche chuckles softly. to soothe you, he pets his hand through your soft hair.

the oven timer dings. "oh, it's done," you said, hesitating while you open the oven.

the next series of events made a flutter of panic shoot through scaramouche. you only put on one oven mit to pull the rack out, and took it off. you reached into the oven with your bare hands to take hold of the tin foil.

"what do you think you are doing?!" he spoke so suddenly that it startles you. he quickly grabs your hands. "you don't have oven mittst on! you could burn yourself!" he took the pizza out of the oven, and kicks the oven door closed, turning the oven off.

"scara, tin foil doesn't get hot," you try and reassure, "i didn't burn myself, honest," you put your hand in his when he took hold of it.

"you almost burnt the side of your knuckle on the inside of oven," he murmurs, feeling relieved he didn't see a burn mark. he brushes his fingers over your unmarred skin. his future wife is delicate, damn it.

"but, scara, what about your hands. you reached into the oven without any mitts on either," you intertwine your fingers through his, squeezing his hand before bringing it to your lips. "you could've burnt yourself too. your fingers are too beautiful for that."

just as his concern for you made your heart flutter, scaramouche felt his flutter. and watching you flit about the apartment, trying to prove that you could be his little wife really made his cock ache.

"maybe i scalded them a little," he said, taking his hand out of yours. he brought his fingers to your lips. "be a doll, and soothe them for me," he taps two fingers on your lips.

your cheeks flush as you open your mouth. your tongue glides along his fingers as he pushes them into your mouth. scaramouche has such capable, fucking beautiful fingers. your tongue tingles as he gently presses down on it.

putting a hand on your hip, he backs you so that you are trapped between him and the kitchen counter. you gag softly as he pushes his fingers into your throat. his cock pulses feeling your eager little mouth start to suck wetly on his fingers.

he sighs shakily seeing the lovestruck look of adoration in your eyes for him, drool collecting at the corners of your mouth. "look at you," he slowly pumps his fingers in and out of your mouth, "you can never get enough of me."

the hand on your hip wanders down between your legs. moving your thighs apart, he cups your cunt outside your jeans. "the pizza may smell good, but you look even better," his cock gets harder watching the blush on your cheeks darkening at his praise.

scaramouche unbuttons your jeans, hardly hesitating in dipping his hand inside your dampening panties. "let's tend to both my hands, shall we?"

you muffle a moan on his fingers as parts your folds, and finds your clit. he is delighted to discover you are already getting very wet, very fast. "you just keep sounding all cute while i make you cum," he slowly rubs your clit, teasing it until your walls clench around nothing.

your clit throbs underneath his fingers, making you squirm as your hips rock into them. he knows your body inside and out, having no trouble reducing you to drooling mess, muffling the sweetest moans on his fingers.

he smirks hearing your moans try and rise in octave. "go on, pretty. cum all over my fingers. you've been such a good girl," he purrs pushing his fingers inside of you. he hooks his fingers accurately into your sweet spot, taking care that they always rub over your clit pumping in and out of you.

his sweet words are all it takes to make you come undone. your body shakes as your orgasm washes over you. sucking eagerly on his fingers in appreciation. scaramouche hums in approval seeing the state he has reduced you to. "now," he said, pulling his fingers from your mouth, "let's sit you on my cock for a while. the pizza can wait."

[luveline]

I love your KBD universe it is soo adorable!! All the kids are written so cutely! I relate to Avery so much! I was thinking about what if mom is super pregnant and she always wants to be near Steve, like she almost doesn’t even want him out her line of sight. Always wanting to touch him and get kisses from him. Love your blog!!

kisses before dinner ♡ you're pregnant and steve is lovely

There is a silver lining to being eight months pregnant (that isn't the baby at the end) —your husband. 

Steve gets soft. When the physical evidence of your pregnancy becomes unignorable, and then glaringly obvious, he treats you with exceptional care, love and tenderness. You can't get enough of it or him. 

And you're like a lost puppy when he's not near. “Steve,” you say, feeling rather morose about the whole thing, “where are you?” 

“In the kitchen! Do you want something?” 

No, you think, just you. “What are you doing?” 

“Babe, I'm making you and Ave your drinks!” A telltale plink of ice cubes knocking against glass follows. “Don't get up, okay?” 

You squeeze Avery's hand where it's held in yours. “Does he think I'll explode?” 

She giggles, her almond eyes lit with her laughter. “Maybe, mom.” 

“Do you think I'll explode?” 

“No way. You didn't explode before.” 

“‘Xactly.” You'd offer to carry her, or simply scoop her up without asking, but being so pregnant actually does feel like you're going to explode sometimes and you figure it's a bad idea. “Let's go see what he's doing.” 

You and Avery pick over Dove's tea party, abandoned sadly in the middle of the living room, and make your way into the kitchen, which is less hecticly messy but a tad grimy after a long week. Grease clings to the stove top and there's a cherry red stain down the front of the refrigerator. Death of a stolen popsicle. 

Steve sighs when he sees you, too much love around his eyes for any believability when he chides, “You can't sit down. It's impossible.” 

You push yourself back against the counter next to his hip. Avery does the same immediately, giving him a similar look, you're sure. 

He tries to hide his smile with a sip of Avery's too full drink. “Here,” he says when it's at a safer level, “apple juice for you. And ice, princess.” 

“Thank you,” she says, eyes wide as her open palms. She takes it and drinks at it greedily, the sweet taste of concentrated sugar enough to steal her attention. She walks out of the kitchen calling for Beth. “Come have some juice!” 

“That's adorable,” Steve says. 

“You tend to make them that way.” 

He throws an arm against his forehead, slouching beside you, the other wrapping behind your back. “I know. It's exhausting.” 

You spy your youngest under the kitchen table. The girls are fascinated with alcoves and small spaces. If they can fit into a nook, they will, and if they can't, they'll squeeze in anyhow. She breathes through her mouth over a pad of paper with a shard of a crayon in hand, drawing rather intricate things, considering her age. 

“Are those flowers?” you whisper. 

“Think so…” Steve lifts his head high to kiss the top of yours, his arm moving up to your shoulders. He rubs at them like he's trying to relieve a pressure you haven't announced. “You really need to stop getting up all the time. You're at risk–” 

“No, the doctor said if I'm not careful I'd put myself at risk.”

“And what are you doing?” he asks, voice like velvet, smooth and soft as he looks behind your ear. He must see something, petting away a flyaway or a loose strand or something, his touch as tender as his voice. 

You tilt your head away from him. After as long in love with one another as you have been, he knows you're asking for something rather than moving away, and he leans in again to kiss your cheek, rubbing behind your ear all the while. 

“Let's go sit down,” he suggests. 

“In a second.” 

You're terrible lately but it's all his fault. You crave his affection both big and small, all the time, and in every place. You'll be off work any day now and you're sure you'll spend that time soaking him in while he runs ragged trying to get things ready. You've done it before. Steve in the grocery store looking for a hundred different things while you draw stars into the backs of his hand, or trying to fix the baby gate onto the wall while you sit on the stairs making googly eyes at him. 

“My boy,” you say stupidly, wrapping your arms around his neck. Regrettably, he can't continue to dote on you like that, but it prompts him to hug you as close as he can manage. “I love you.” You lay your cheek on his shoulder. “You smell really nice.” 

“I love you too.” Pine, today. Fresh. “I see what's happening.” 

“What's happening?” 

You think he's going to put you down. The baby hormones are making you clingy, he might say, but he doesn't. “You've realised how hot I am. You're late, but I'll forgive you. You know, ‘cos of your predicament.” 

“Thank you,” you say, kissing his neck gently. 

You leave a series of butterfly kisses down the column of his neck before squishing yourself into the curve of it, resting too much weight on him. He takes it all without complaint, hugging you tighter, the distension of your bump a beach ball between you that makes you unfortunately shorter, bending as you are. 

His breath is a pleased sound in your ear, but he doesn't say anything. You hug until you have a strange pain in your neck; he encourages you away from him like he can sense it. 

“You okay?” he asks, thumb under your eye, a millionth sweet touch to add to the mountain. 

“I'm great.” 

“Yeah?” He holds you in place and kisses you. “Love you,” he says, his bottom lip jutting against yours. He kisses you again, and then he pulls away completely, a hand between you both the only tether. “Time to sit down. I'm gonna take your blood pressure.” 

There's no need. If anything, the way he's looking at you might give an inaccurate reading, but you think of the fawning and fretting and the rough of his fingertips digging into the top of your arm and smile, giddy. “‘Kay.” 

“Come on, Dovey, let's go be mommy's doctor,” he calls to Dove. 

In a rather uncharacteristic episode of actually listening, she abandons her crayons and takes his offered hand. He shoots you a quick smirk, as if to say, Yeah, I did that. It's stupid and it makes you laugh, because you couldn't love him much more than this. 

[yukibunnii]

strawberries . *₊˚🍓୧

— strawberry picking with kazuha !

warning ; toothrotting fluff!! 🥹

strawberry picking with kazuha would be the sweetest.

it was warm and sunny today, and you agreed with kazuha on a little date idea: strawberry picking. you were currently getting ready, putting on a sundress in front of your mirror. it felt a little bit too plain, so you searched for something.. anything, to go with the dress. your eyes set on a beaded necklace that had a strawberry charm dangling from it, which was sitting right on top of your bedside table. you smile, thinking it was a perfect theme for your date with kazuha. though you did sort of struggle with the clasp, your face contorting as you try to put on the necklace yet fail miserably. your eyes narrowed with intense focus as you tried to clasp the necklace, the clasp seemingly impossible to fit together. you struggled silently, your face strained with the awkward position of your head and neck, and your brows furrowing in concentration. that's when you gave up with a sigh, turning around to call kazuha who you assumed was probably waiting out the door of your room.

"zuha! can you come in? I need a little help here!" you call out, that sweet nickname of his coming out of your mouth. with your permission to go in, you hear the doorknob twist and kazuha's figure walk in with a gentle smile. "yes, my sweet?" he says with a soft tone, walking right behind you with one hand on the small of your back. "you look gorgeous," he states, smiling sweetly at your reflection in the mirror. "what is it you need help with?"

your cheeks flush in a light shade of pink at his soft-spoken words, before clearing your throat. "could you help me with my necklace?" you ask, turning around to place the beaded necklace in his hands with a smile. you see kazuha nod with no hesitation, gently sweeping your hair over one of your shoulders. his gaze drifts down, settling on your nape as his fingers carefully wrap the necklace around your neck. "there we go," he whispers, pulling back and rearranging your hair. "is that all? are we ready to go?" he asks, turning you around to take a good look at you and admire how stunning you looked right now. you couldn't help but chuckle at the way he was looking you up and down, with a gaze that told you he was practically head over heels for you.

𐙚𓏲⋆ ִֶָ ๋𓂃 ⋆ᡣ𐭩

having arrived at the strawberry field, he's surprised by how excited you are, since you immediately ran around with a grin....the sun hat you were wearing, having a white ribbon around it, almost falling from your head. but god, the way your sundress flowed in the breeze was so perfect to him. he sighs with a smile and shakes his head before walking up towards you and lacing his fingers with yours. "careful now, dove. you're going to drop your hat.. don't wanna lose it now, do we?" he smiles.

while picking out strawberries with him, he was carrying your woven basket for you. it was the basket you brought for the strawberries. crouched down beside you as you grabbed a handful of strawberries, he brings the basket close to you so the strawberries could be put in.

"i'm glad you thought of this, dove. the breeze is wonderful, it's not too warm nor cold, there isn't too many people around.... and you're right here beside me. it's perfect. you're perfect." he says in a soft-spoken voice, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. it was an attempt of his to start a conversation with you while you both pick strawberries. he sees you blink at him for a second in a stunned state, before you smile sweetly and peck his cheek. "you're a bit too charming sometimes, kazuha..." you say, also thinking about how cute it was that his cheeks went slightly red at your peck.

"zuha," you suddenly call out, turning your gaze towards him. "hmm?" he responds, blinking back at you. "taste it! is it sweet?" you grin at him while gently bringing a strawberry close to his mouth. he just lets out a breathy laugh before taking a bite of the sweet fruit you were feeding to him. you see his eyebrows raise, nodding eagerly. "it's sweet, like you."

with a basket full of strawberries, kazuha stands up first before offering you a hand to help you get up. well, until the both of you were interrupted by a fluffy white cat rubbing against your legs. you immediately beamed at the sight of the little kitty, petting behind its ears before it straight up just laid down in front of you and started purring. "aw, zuha, look! it even looks like you!" you laugh gently, petting its head. but oh, kazuha was not paying attention to the cat. he was more interested with how adorable you looked right now. you, being sweet with a cat? what sight could be more perfect than this..? without knowing it, kazuha was just smiling so tenderly at you as he pulled out his phone and snapped a picture of you and the little cat. that definitely became his new lockscreen.

..you two decided to bake a strawberry shortcake after the date. ♡

[inkykeiji]

warnings: 18+ minors do not interact, drugs, sucking waka off through his undies, lots of cum + cum swallowing, clear hints of a toxic relationship, fem!reader 

words: 1.3k

anyway this was supposed to be like a three hundred word drabble but it grew way out of proportion and now here we are. he’s so icky and yummy hehe c: inspired by that photo of his bedroom where he’s just chilling in his undies

Thinking about Waka in his undies :( lounging around in his tight black briefs :( thinking about lazing around with him, draped over his lap maybe, in your own undies :( a cute matching set of delicate lace and satin ribbons that clings almost tenderly to all of your curves and edges, something much too pretty to be hidden away beneath layers of clothing—or, at least, that’s what Wakasa had sworn to you.

Thinking about getting high with Waka in your undies :( straddling his lap with your palms pressed to his stomach and your giggles wafting across his face, using your tongues to shove smiley-stamped pills into each other’s waiting mouths, licking at the edges of teeth and chapped lips as they retreat. 

Thinking about the manufactured bliss gushing through your veins in thick torrents nearly half an hour later, that sweet, sharp, telltale gasp he loves so much spilling from your lips as it hits all at once—eyes wide, mouth wider, lungs swelling with a heavy intake of air—one of those leery, lazy smirks smeared across his face.

Everything is heightened; smells and sensations, the scent of sugar twined with his breath as his mumbled words melt on your tongue, cascading down your throat in warm, tingling streams.

You can taste his voice, you swear you can, though he laughs when you tell him so, violet eyes lidded and heavy as fingers follow the line of your hair, the curve of your cheek, the edge of your jaw.

You’re so cute when you’re fucked up, he tells you, compliment shimmering in the air. It’s precious how low your tolerance is. 

But he has to be careful, he’s mumbling to himself, almost as if making a personal note aloud, voice scrawling it in the air, eyes rolled up to the ceiling, forehead scrunched in serious concentration. If he isn't careful, he’s gonna ruin it, and then you’ll be no fun at all. 

He needs to cherish this, to savour this, to indulge himself only sparingly in a effort to keep your tolerance from climbing too high. He doesn’t want to waste more drugs on you than he needs to. 

You don’t really understand, but you suppose it doesn’t really matter either way—not when he’s here, and he’s so pretty, made of amethyst and gold and glittering in the setting sun pouring through the grimy front windows of his apartment.

It’s impossible to keep your hands off of him, desperate to feel his bare flesh against your own—the smooth, sleek planes of his abdomen, the bony bumps and ridges of his ribs, the soft curves and dips of his biceps—and, it seems, he feels the exact same way about you.

Time drips by in slow, stringy dollops as you both knead and fondle and caress and grope, marvelled by each other’s skin alone, by the sensation of each other below your palms, between your fingers, beneath your nails, hands gliding over one another until his cock is hard and flushed and leaking, constant dribbles of precum seeping through the straining black fabric. 

It looks cute, you think, yearning for your touch, your tongue, and you trace it with an index finger, collecting the gluey mixture on the pad and giggling at the way his head flops back against the couch and his cock jumps, a groan rumbling behind his sternum.

Your cunt is soaked, too—he can feel it, drenched lace tacky against his bare thigh as your hips rock in tiny uneven movements. You don’t seem too concerned about it, though, despite the unconscious little rutting against his leg, more interested in his drooling cock. 

His precum is thicker than anything you’ve ever seen before, messily oozing through the material of his briefs like sticky syrup, viscous, glassy cords keeping your fingertips conjoined as you idly tap them together, and you wonder aloud if it tastes as sweet as it looks. 

Why don’t you lick it up and see for yourself? he says, hips nudging up just a little in indication, in anticipation. 

That sounds like a wonderful idea, the best idea he’s ever had, you’re absolutely sure of it, you’re babbling with cute enthusiastic little nods of your head as your body slides down his own, knees sinking into his scratchy carpet, torso wedged between his spread thighs.

Holding his bleary gaze, your tongue unfurls from your mouth, tip flattening against the clothed head and giving one slow, hard lap, thoroughly sopping up the substance. Another fat glob instantly weeps through the drenched fabric, eager to replace what’s been lost.

It doesn’t taste as sweet as it looks, you’re astonished to discover, bitter and putrid like his favourite brand of cheap cigarettes, but you keep lapping away at it despite the taste, quick, firm laves of your tongue diligently blotting up the endless trickle. 

Because you just can’t get enough of him; can’t get enough of the throaty whines and shards of curses you keep yanking from his mouth, splintered to bits by those sharp intakes of breath, can’t get enough of the way his hips jerk up in twitchy little motions with each roll of your tongue against his slit, his blunt nails scraping against the polyester couch cushions, his thighs flexing.

It has you drawing the whole head into your mouth, tongue curling around the underside and suckling on the tip, then rubbing over the head in faster, stronger strokes as your lips pucker around it, the cotton of his briefs beginning to chafe your tastebuds, each drag across his cock sprouting burning little tingles in its wake. 

It has him cumming within mere minutes, hot and gooey and so, so much, soiling the inside of his boxers and staining your tongue with his taste. It bleeds through the fabric in steady surges, decorating his lap in pretty pearlescent piping, thick stripes of cream that have saliva pooling beneath your tongue.

You can’t help but lap them up, acrid and tart and burning your throat, a cruel trick your foggy brain, pumped full and drowning in artificial euphoria, has played on you yet again; looks like icing, is most definitely not icing, a notion you’ve discovered many times in situations exactly like this, a notion that refuses to stick.

Because it’s so pretty, way too pretty to be left to dry, hard and crusted and glazed, on a pair of cheap underwear, and you swallow all of it, not a single drop gone to waste, mopping him clean with your eager tongue until his briefs shine with your spit.

He cums so easily when he’s rolling, you’re giggling into his soggy cock, nuzzling your cheek into his lap, another weak spurt of cum melting through the material.  

You collapse against his thigh, tongue dabbing at your lips, sopping up any remnants of him and humming softly. 

You could stay here forever, you think, you drool out dreamily into his skin, tangled in threads of spit. He wouldn’t mind if you did, he admits quietly, a palm cupping the crown of your head, thumb moving in rhythmic caresses across your sweaty hair. 

But then the grinding starts, jaw flexing and clenching against his bare thigh as your molars scrape together, and he’s sloppily hoisting you up with his thumbs hooked beneath your arms, cradling you in his lap. 

Calloused fingertips, gone hard and numb from cigarette ash, massage soothing little circles into the hinges of your jaw—one of his many (failed) precautionary measures, to lessen the pain when the grinding and clenching starts. 

“S’any better?” he questions and you shake your head, a small frown marring his face in response. 

Reaching around your body, he fiddles in a small glass bowl, plastic crunching and candy tinkering, until his fingers find what they were searching for. 

“Here,” he’s saying as he unwraps one of his favourite lollipops—half chocolate, half vanilla, fingers extra careful as they peel the candy from its casing—and holds the sweet to your lips, urging them to open. “This will help, I promise.” 

[pavlovianfuckery]

you say 'blowing smoke' as if it's a bad thing

AO3

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A/N: yeah im pretty sure that i gave myself fucking brain damage by going on instagram actually, absolutely catastrophic

Summary: don't try to sell me that mr partyboy mcsubstance-abuse wasn't at least a social smoker when he was alive, i'm not buying

Pairing: Blaine DeBeers/F!Reader

Notes: kissing (i know, right? shocking) smoking

Length: 950~ words

The weather is, for lack of a better word, dreadful. The steady drizzle would be bad enough on its own but the heavy, gray clouds blanketing the sky certainly isn't helping. It would be somewhat tolerable if it was at least the nice kind of rain, the kind that makes you want to curl up with a blanket and a hot drink, but it's not. Even though it's not even that cold the damp still seeps into your bones and the clouds look almost soggy. You'd briefly considered calling in sick but the fact that you no longer can get sick quickly put a stop to that little scheme, so here you are. Walking to work. But at least you have an umbrella, and it's not that far to go.

You don't mind your job, but it's not the thought of serving drunk customers or restocking the bar that has your steps speeding up, nor is the rain entirely to blame. It feels incredibly silly to admit even to yourself, but why shouldn't you savor every scrap of happiness that comes your way? It would be nice to get inside though, and you take the last half block or so at a run. Usually you'd enter trough the front door but the loading dock at the back is closer, and right now you're very eager to get out of the rain.

Even though you technically don't need to breathe much anymore, you're still a bit winded by the time you make it up the steps and duck under the tin roof. Too occupied with closing your umbrella and shaking it off, you don't notice anything different until you spot smoke out of the corner of your eye.

Leaving the umbrella by the door you do your best to act casual as you walk over to the far end of the concrete platform. It's kind of hard not to stare when he's leaning against the wall like that though, the man really looks as if he's all leg sometimes. Settling in next to him with your back against the worn bricks and the thrumming of rain against metal over your head, it's almost cozy.

"Didn't know you smoked."

"I don't." As he takes a drag the tip flares a dull orange. "Old habit." He shrugs, his shoulder rubbing against yours. "Brain sometimes forgets that they don't really do anything anymore."

"Isn't that a good thing?" Your eyes are helplessly drawn to the shape of his lips around the cigarette, and it's making it a bit difficult to keep a coherent train of thought. "From what I hear, those things will kill you." That gets you something that's almost a snort, a plume of smoke exhaled quickly through his nose as he rolls his eyes at you.

"Bit late for that, don't you think?"

"I guess." Scrunching your nose at him, you nudge his elbow with your own. "Still kind of gross, though."

"Funny, I don't remember asking for your opinion, doll. Besides, it's not so bad." You know that you should probably be heading inside, that you're technically on the clock already, but this is…nice. It feels simple, comfortable. He knocks the ash off with a flick of his fingers before turning to face you. "Can barely even taste it anymore, see?" Taking a deep drag he steps in close, cradling your jaw in his free hand, coaxing your mouth open with a gentle squeeze.

And he's right, it really doesn't taste like anything at all. There might be the faintest hint of something as he kisses you, breathing the smoke into you, but that could just be your imagination. It still stings your eyes though, so as you relax into the kiss you let them slide shut, flattening your hands against his chest and just concentrating of the feel of him. There's no urgency to the way he invades your mouth and the slow slide of his tongue against yours has your knees threatening to buckle. It's a soft, deep, melting thing that has you whimpering and as you fist your hands in the soft cotton of his t-shirt he lets out a breathy little moan, pressing in closer until you're almost flattened against the bricks.

He keeps the kiss going until long after the last of the smoke has dissipated and you're shivering against him, fervently wishing that you could bring him back home this instant instead of spending the rest of the evening behind the bar. He might even be thinking the same thing because he seems awfully reluctant to pull away.

"See?" As he strokes your cheek with the pad of his thumb it's obvious that he definitely knows what he's done though, because his eyes are all but sparkling with mischief. "Nothing." You're still a bit shaky when he finally steps back. The cigarette has burned down to mostly ash and he frowns at it, knocking it off and taking one last drag before flicking it over the edge of the concrete platform where it lands in a puddle with a sad little fsssh. "Should probably go and make sure Don E hasn't set the kitchen on fire."

You're pretty sure that's not something you need to be worrying about, but if it's one thing you've learned from working here it's that there's no guarantee that wouldn't happen. Pulling the heavy door open, he actually holds it for you, even though you both know that he really doesn't need to. It's actually kind of sweet.

"Yeah, I'll…be right there." As you step through the door, you can still feel the ghost of his lips on yours. This will be somewhat of an uncomfortable shift, but you're confident that you'll be able to get back at him later, somehow.

⁂

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[floralprintsharks]

hugs #4 for dammon x rolan ?

Rolan feels like the air itself is choking him.

His mouth tastes like blood and his entire body hurts, screaming at him to lie down an rest. But he can't rest. He can't stop—shouldn't stop, shouldn't—

He can't breathe.

Lia and Cal are gone and he can't do a godsdamned thing to get them back. Rolan curses the rudimentary magical powers he never really got to develop and no matter how proud he is of what he already accomplished his magic didn't do anything to help him when his siblings got dragged away from him.

They're gone. They could be tortured and killed right now and Rolan is kneeling on the ground, his fingers digging into the dirt below him as he tries to count the seconds.

Breathe in. Hold. Breathe out.

Breathe in. Hold—Lia and Cal screaming his name, Cal's wide eyes, Lia's defiant shouts—

"Hey, do you need help?"

It takes Rolan's brain a few long, agonizing seconds to register that someone is speaking to him. His robes are bloody and covered in dust and soot and he feels as if he hasn't breathed fresh air in years.

What if they're dead? What if Rolan is all alone now, his entire world shattered—

"Alright there. It's Rolan, right? We can breathe together, see if that helps. One, two, three—"

Warm, strong hands covered in callouses wrap around his wrists. Rolan's senses narrow in on the voice and the feeling of skin on skin as he slowly follows the melody of the numbers, trying his best to get his breathing back under control.

When he finally looks up Dammon's face swims into view, his eyebrows pulled together in worry and his head tilted.

Rolan swallows.

"I'm alright", he croaks, realizing how idiotic that sounds. His face is bloody, bruised and streaked with tears. But he was never one to confide in others or accept help easily. The fact that Dammon has seen him like this burns shamefully in his stomach as if someone dropped coals down his throat.

"It's okay if you're not", Dammon says softly and releases Rolan's wrists. "Would you like some water?"

Rolan nods silently and awkwardly gets up from the ground. His legs are still shaking and his head is swimming, but he refuses to kneel and cower in front of a virtual stranger any longer than he already has.

He didn't even realize that he broke down in the shadows of the inn close to Dammon's workshop, but now that he looks around he can see the tools and weapons and smell oils and leathers.

If Lia and Cal were here they would tease him for ending up here of all places. Rolan swallows and keeps concentrating on his breathing.

"Here you go. Have a seat. Pardon my language, but you look like hell."

Rolan doesn't answer. He doesn't know what to say. He must reek of sweat and dirt and shadow creature innards. There's a long silence as Rolan forces himself to sip the water Dammon handed him while he does his best to look anywhere but at Dammon who hovers close by as if Rolan might topple over any second.

"I'm sorry about your siblings", Dammon finally says, his voice soft and way too gentle.

Rolan doesn't need gentle. He needs the steel reserve to go and get them back.

Fuck.

"I tried to get them back, but I barely made it out of the bubble before—"

His words die in his throat as he grabs the glass so tight that it shakes in his fingers.

Dammon takes the glass out of his hands, probably to stop it from breaking in his grip. Rolan feels the overwhelming urge to curse the stranger who went to save the kidnapped people, just like they busted in and convinced him to stay with the refugees, to help fight.

The truth is that they would have to cross these lands alone otherwise. Rolan isn't stupid. But he needs to hold into his anger, or else he fears that he might simply break down.

"Trust others to help", Dammon says and grabs Rolan's shoulders. "I know we're used to try and solve all our own problems, but they're one of us, right? They'll do their best and your siblings will be safe. But you also need to stay safe so they have someone to come home to."

Rolan stares at Dammon.

In another situation he would have called this talk of hope and trust stupid and ridiculous but his throat is burning with more unshed tears and this is all he has. The hope that someone else will do what he couldn't.

"I—I can't lose them", Rolan finally whispers, the terrible truth that grips his heart with an iron fist.

"You won't. It'll be alright", Dammon says again with a small smile and Rolan has no idea if he's so naive to actually believe it or if he just says it to humor Rolan. He has no time to ponder this further, because Dammon kneels down in front of the log Rolan is seated on before he pulls Rolan forward and right into a warm, tight hug.

Rolan's thoughts grind to a halt and his entire body tenses before collapsing into itself and the hug.

Fuck.

"We'll make it. We're all going to make it."

And in this steady embrace Rolan can almost believe it.

feel free to send me one of these <3

[pera-chan]

Cap. 4

ESCAPE FROM KALININGRAD.

The next day we woke up early, and met in the square in front of the teleporter.

When I arrived, I saw Uxolo looking around warily.

I approached him and put a hand on his arm.

-Uxolo?-

The man almost screamed, then he put a hand over his mouth to cover it and turned to me.

-Damn, you scared me Tirian, don't sneak up on me like that.-

-Okay, sorry, so... Do you have everything ready?-

-Yes, I brought the particle condenser and left the watch at home, so we won't be tracked.-

I smiled, nodding and looked at the portal.

-If you left your watch at home I guess you figured out that we can't use the portal, right?-

-Of course, they can track where we went, we'll go on foot.-

-Exactly, let's start moving, if they stop us, remember, the excuse is that we're only going to take a look at the base of the tree for religious reasons.-

-Okay, but now let's move.-

We started walking towards the base of the grove of trees where we live, until we touched the grass with our bare feet. From there we moved to go towards the edge of the square, looking around.

-Have you ever been to another city on foot, Tirian?-

-No, it's the first time obviously, we have teleportation, do you think I'm going on foot? Anyway, from what I know it's eight days of walking to Vyrica.-

-Uh... Well, you know I think it will be fun, after all it's a new experience, we will learn more about the creation of the great El.-

I looked up at the sky and nodded silently, continuing to walk and being careful not to step on stones or get my feet wet in the small streams that run through this land.

I think we walked for hours, with intervals of silence and little songs that Uxolo hummed.

At midday we had lunch, sitting under one of the big trees and forming food from Uxolo's little particle condenser, which created food from particles in the environment.

We ate some fruit if I remember correctly.

-Tirian, since you looked at the road, what is the closest big city?-

-We are lucky, on the edge of the square is Sovetsk, and we are half a day away from there.-

-Oh, okay, I see, what will we do next?-

-So, after that we will cross the border of Lithuania, entering the next square, we will stop in the city of Tauragė, Kryžkalnis, Kelmė, Šiauliai and Joniskis, from there we pass to Latvia to Eleja, Jelgava, Ozolnieki, Olaine, Mārupe and Riga-

-You have already named too many cities for my taste, isn't there a faster way?-

-It depends on whether you want to freeze to death in the snow or be eaten by a bear.-

All I read on Uxolo's face was confusion and surprise, he tilted his head to the side innocently, perhaps one of the last times on that trip.

-What? Why are you looking at me like that?-

-What do you mean by "frozen to death in the snow or eaten by a bear"?-

-Exactly what I said, of course, do you think saving the planet only meant making it like this?-

I raised my arms, pointing to the green trees around us and raised an eyebrow. I admit only today that I felt quite irritated by his ignorance, especially considering that he was a big follower of El and the Ancestors Superis.

He blushed with shame precisely because he probably felt foolish and sighed.

I shook my head, then crossed my arms over my chest in irritation.

-I never thought I'd have to explain it, well, what you see in some circles and areas are places surrounded by glass bubbles that allow a specific temperature to be maintained and allow plants to grow, leaving this bubble means entering the wild nature where the climate is what it is, the natural environment is totally untouched.-

He frowned, concentrating on my words and resting his chin on his hand.

-I understand, but I don't think we can completely rule out the possibility of having to go into nature, I mean, if these are pre-established paths...-

He looked around and sighed nervously before leaning towards me and whispering slowly.

-If our search leads to things that must not be found and... they... are like the governments before the Final Liberation then we must also consider finding alternative ways to escape.-

I thought about it for a moment, and he was right, so I nodded and hummed for a second, lost in thought.

-Then let's walk near the borders of the squares, so we cut off the road and if necessary, we escape, but for now I think our destination remains the same, Sovetsk, where I suggest we get warm clothes and food.-

-Yes, I agree.-

We got up and started walking again, only after this chat we started to look at the environment around us more carefully, studying silently since that place no longer seemed as safe as it had been until that moment, I think it was right there where we understood that in truth we had never been safe and above all we would not have been since that journey had begun.

We spent the rest of the day in silence until late at night, we decided to wash ourselves in a small lake in the area, probably formed not many years before, after all the world had radically changed since man adapted to nature and learned to use it, the water was not cold and the night itself was temperate.

After washing ourselves and putting our tunics to dry, we ate and used the particle condenser to create a blanket to rest under.

We woke up at the first light of dawn, got dressed and went back on our way peacefully, carrying the blanket with us. Obviously, we didn't want to leave any traces of our passage around.

-Did you sleep well? Sleeping on the floor isn't very comfortable.-

-Nor is sleeping next to you, you snore Uxolo.-

-Snore? I've never snored before... I imagine this situation is tiring me more than expected.-

-Probably... Anyway, we'll be in Sovetsk tonight I think, we'll sleep in a place there.- -Uh... Ok, at least we'll sleep on a comfortable bed this time, that's more than fine with me.-

I smiled, and my feet continued to take one step after another.

Between a lunch break and a few to rest my aching feet, we finally arrived at our destination, a quiet town, by now there was almost nothing left of the old pre-Liberation architecture, and trees stood everywhere like any circle.

We went to a B&B, where we ate and slept the whole night on watery mattresses and cotton blankets.

[inksandpensblog]

For the questionnaire: question 1 for NGD!Dark?

What is the character’s go-to drink order?

He didn't know a lot about drinks while he was on the pc.

Not even the difference between regular drip coffee and an Americano, or regular iced coffee and a cold brew. All he really knew was that dark roasts were stronger than medium ones, and he probably only knew that because noogai looked it up while Christmas shopping or something.

Orange would sketch various different beverages as art studies, and Dark was happy to taste-test them. He ended up liking many of them, as long as they weren't overly sweet.

(He did not like the unicorn frappe. That was...that was not a good day. He never figured out whether it was because Orange imagined it incorrectly, or because it's just inherently an abominable and abjectly-disgusting drink, and he's never been willing to try a real one and find out.)

Anytime he asked Orange for a drink, though, instead of just letting Orange make one for him because he felt like it, he'd usually just ask for a coffee or a water, nothing elaborate. Mostly because, if he was asking for a drink, then it wasn't for enjoyment; rather, it was because he'd be working on something for hours at a time and he wanted to stay awake or refreshed while doing so.

As for the extended timeline...

If he's drinking coffee because he needs to stay awake, he won't even look at the menu, he'll just look the poor barista in the eye and say he wants the strongest, darkest drink they have. He doesn't care what it is, or whether it's hot or cold, or how much it costs; though he gives the impression that he wants it made as quickly as possible. He leaves before the barista can count out his change and he's already downed half the coffee by the time the door swings closed behind him.

If he's drinking coffee for leisure, he'll have a brief look at the menu and casually order the first beverage with the word "latte" in its name that catches his interest.

This could be a regular latte, or a matcha/chai/turmeric latte, or any other variety; he's willing to be a little experimental about the taste, because what he really wants it for is so he can stare at the milk foam art while he drinks it. It...makes him feel nostalgic.

If it's a regular latte he usually has a specific request for the art, but if it's his first time trying the drink he'll let the artist surprise him with one of their routine designs.

If it ends up being a sweeter drink, he'll have some complimentary spices added to it (whether powdered, like matcha, or whole, like anise stars or cinnamon sticks). It's...always more spice than you'd expect a person to be able to handle.

Will tilt his cup 180 degrees to get every last dreg.

Waits until right before he leaves the venue to tip.

If he's a guest at someone's house, he's more likely to ask for some kind of fruity or herbal tea, or even cider, mulled or otherwise. Though if he knows there will be coffee he might bring along a bottle of Amaretto to leave at their house for next time they invite him over. (He'd wondered what Irish coffee tasted like back on the pc but figured it wouldn't be a great idea to drink one while he was attempting to figure out escape plans. When he finally got to try one it ended up being too sweet for his liking.)

[animeniac-writings]

More Than Just For Groping - Denji x reader

Anime/Manga: Chainsaw Man

Note: Can you tell I also love boobs by these posts? Denji loves tits, gender neutral language. This got way more explicit than intended as I was writing it.

You must be joking if you think Denji's love of tits stops at just touching.

Sure he's always dreamed of touching them, imagined what it'd be like to fondle some big, soft breasts with his own bare hands.

He's cum just to the thought of how they would feel, getting to squeeze a nice pair of warm tits in his calloused hands. Would callouses bother tits? he's wondered that after his head cleared a little too.

But, he never thought he'd get to touch any boobs before he died, and was too young and unexperienced to think there was anything more to it than touching.

So when your chest is bare in front of his face, his painfully hard erection unable to stop grinding against you through his boxers, he really hopes he doesn't start hyperventilating right now because he feels like it.

Then your hand goes to the back of his head, fingers threading through sweaty hair and he thinks you'll pull, he always moans when you tug his hair during make outs and though this moment can't get any better, somehow that would still make it.

But you don't. Your hand is gentle but firm, pulling him closer. Downward, and for a second he thinks he gets the message. He marks up your neck any time you let him and he's happy to try, but really isn't sure he can even concentrate on biting you right now as he jerks up against you without the slightest bit of self control.

Wrong. He was so wrong. And his mind goes completely blank when you've guided him down so his open mouth fits onto your nipple perfectly.

Denji has lost his mind. Body seizing up when his lips meet your tip. His head feels like jelly, body on fire and he couldn't guess if there's more blood rushing to his cheeks or his dick when quietly you murmur to him that he's "Such a good boy"

He wants to collapse, hips snapping against you the second those words reach his ears, he can't think but luckily his body knows what to do. What's he's supposed to do.

His white knuckle grip leaves the sheets below you and wraps around you for dear life, humping feverishly in his spot between your legs, muffled moan against your breast as your legs wrap around his back pulling him closer.

Your breast. Denji runs his tongue along your pebbled nipple, teeth grazing ever so lightly making you keen up towards him, he suckles your breast and it's the only thing he ever wants to do. Mind fuzzy with nothing but the need for MORE,

His legs want to give out from how quickly he's grinding against you, pressing his cock to you as much as he can, boxers so thoroughly soaked with precum he can barely feel them anymore,

He doesn't care. He needs you, the smell of you all around him, the feeling of you pressed against him as flush as he can possibly manage, the taste of your breast and the feel of your now sore nipple on his tongue, it's too much and could never be enough.

He can't hear you, somewhere that seems far away you've been praising him, calling him your good boy, your needy puppy, but the blood rushing in his ears has blocked out everything while his senses are positively on fire.

It starts to hurt, honestly. From pleasure to pain with how hard Denji's sucking on your nipple, you can imagine the large red mark, hell even a damn hickey around it now. And the way his hips hammer against yours like a bunny in heat, slamming the headboard to the wall hard enough to dent it.

You try to pull him off, tightly weaving your fingers in his hair and trying to yank him back, only getting a long, pornographic groan from him and his lust filled eyes rolling back as he cums against you. body stilling with only a few last stuttered jerks, cum spraying into his ruined shorts, his vision goes white and for a minute he thinks he has died. Died in the most glorious way and reached whatever level of Nirvana there is.

Denji collapses against you. His body more spent than ever before, everything feels tingly, his head is full of cotton, his dick quite possibly numb, his face had fallen into the crook of your neck with his last body shaking groan.

He is ruined. He looks beautiful. Something you love to see, love to know you're the only one to ever do this to him. To fill him with such pleasure he can hardly breathe.

Denji's exhausted beyond belief, he can't move. He certainly can't get up, and could absolutely not care less about doing so. He wants to sleep, only one thing could be better than sleep.

You're brushing his hair back, sweat soaked bangs plastered to his forehead, reveling in the aftermath of it all when you feel him move. You can already tell what he's about to do, and quickly shift his focus from the boob he's already sucked raw to the other before he can latch on again.

He's slowly, gently sucking on your tit with his eyes closed, you aren't sure if you want to roll your eyes or not. But he readjusts his arms around you, still holding you to him, but more comfortably, his legs hanging off the end of the bed while your back rests against pillows, going to sleep.

You wonder through your own tired mind if he'll suffocate like that, lips latched around your nipple suckling tenderly as he finally passes out from exhaustion.

But, you think, he wouldn't mind it that's how he did.

[oneforthemunny]

don't fear the reaper |older!dilf!eddie munson x reader| part 7

prompt: your introduction to eddie's ex-wife goes less than ideal.

age gap. reader is 26, Eddie is 42. everything is consensual. if you don't like it, don't read plz.

contains: language, dilf!eddie, older!eddie, age gap, angst, gina is Eddie's ex wife and she's really mean :(

"Can you get that, sweet thing?" Eddie asks, screwdriver in hand, hunched over the little set of drawers that he was assembling, tongue poked out in concentration.

You'd been happily watching him build all morning, a warm and light feeling buzzing through your body. You grinned cheekily to yourself when Eddie slipped on a pair of reading glasses before he had started. He looked over them at you, peering over the black frames with an exaggerated stare, pointing a warning finger playfully in your direction.

"Not a word. Understand, missy?" His tone was stern, playful, pulling a string of giggles from your chest. Your cheeks flush at his tone, tipping your head to the side to admire him. The way the veins in his hand protruded when he tightened something with the screwdriver, his tongue poking out in concentration. 

Eddie had just established the base of the drawers when there was a knock at the door. You stood, setting down your mug on the coffee table. "Should be Brielle. She's always forgettin' her key." Eddie sighed, a firm eye roll.

You opened the door, ready to see the girl who resembled your boyfriend so much- same eyes, dimples, cheeks. She'd been at her mom's all weekend, and you were happy to have her back, now that things were better with you two. You smiled widely, eyes lighting up, a welcome on the tip of your tongue.

Instead, you were greeted with a pair of piercing eyes, narrowed at you from the moment you opened the door, unfamiliar and challenging.

You blinked, looking at the woman in front of you, jarred and a little frightened. You knew her, how could you not? Gina, Eddie's ex-wife, Brielle's mother. You’d seen the photos- maybe, done a stalk on Facebook with your best friend. 

Gina's lips twisted, a scoff falling from them that had you stepping back in the doorway. "I'll be goddammed." She said every word slowly, dripped in venom. Your heart hammered, eyes wide, caught, scared.

Brielle squirmed, eyes sympathetically meeting yours. She was uncomfortable, intimidated too, though you weren’t really sure why. "Mom, I'm here now. You can go back in the car-"

"Nuh-uh." Gina snapped, eyes never leaving yours. You felt exposed under her gaze, vulnerable, wrapping your arms around your middle protectively. "I wanna meet the new girl your dad has you hangin' around. Make sure she's not being a bad influence on my baby." Her words were nearly mocking, your hand gripping the door in a white knuckled grasp.

Eddie's heavy footsteps appeared behind you, shoulders falling when he saw Gina. "For fuckssake, Gina..." He sighed, annoyed, exasperated, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Well, hello to you, too, Edward." Gina spat the name like it was a bad taste in her mouth, lips curling into a snarl. Her teeth barred, like a predator to prey- amused. This was a game to her. One she was very good at, apparently. 

"The fuck are you doin', huh?" Eddie threw his arm out, looking down at Gina, standing at his full height. "You don't have better things to do?"

Gina laughed, humorless, eyes rolling. "Not when it comes to our child." Gina snapped. She paused, lips pursing, icy eyes sliding over your frame, sending shivers down your spine. "Sorry, I guess I should say our daughter, looks like you have another child in your life."

Your heart dropped, stammering lightly. Gina gave you a smug, challenging look. Brielle looked down, shifting on her feet. "Mom, can you stop? It's embarrassing-"

"Oh, I'm embarrassing?" Gina snapped, looking at her daughter. Brielle recoiled slightly, shrinking under her gaze. "But your father prancing around with jail bait isn't-"

"Alright, Gina, that's enough." Eddie growled, stepping in front of you. They glared at each other, so angry, full of hatred. "You wanna say some shit to me? Fine, but leave her out of this. And have some decency to not do this in front of Brie." He bit, glaring down the slope of his nose at her. 

Gina gasped, loud and accusatory. "Don't you dare, Eddie, don't you even fuckin' dare." She pointed a long, manicured nail at him, jabbing it at him. "Don't pull the bad mom card on me when you're dating someone the same age as Brielle!"

"She is not the same age, Gina, what the fuck-"

"Sweetheart," Gina turned to you, the pet name Eddie usually adorned to you was covered in malice, making your blood run cold. "How old are you?" She mocked you, spoke to you like you were a child- like you spoke to your kids at school. 

"Twenty-s-six." You stammered dumbly, heart pounding in your ears. It was nine in the morning, you weren't exactly prepared to be berated and harassed like this, this early.

Gina's lips pressed together, eyebrows shooting up. She scoffed, loud and derisive. "Twenty-six?" She repeated, each syllable rolling off her tongue furiously, looking at Eddie with a glare so cold it made you shiver.

 "So, when I had Brielle, you were what? Nine, ten?" She laughed, but she wasn't amused. It was a mean girl mocking laugh, one that took you back to days in middle school in the locker room at gym. "And Eddie, what were you doing then? Twenty-six years ago? Oh, that's right, you were still selling weed to high-school kids to support the baby-"

"Gina, I'm not doing this shit with you." Eddie seethed, jaw set and eyes hard. He glared at her, eyes flicking over to Brielle, who shrunk into herself, eyes on the steps. You could see the guilt wash over Eddie, jaw ticking and eyes softening. "Get in here, baby girl. I'll be just a second." He guided Brielle in, hand protectively on the back of her head, giving you a small nod before shutting the door.

You and Brielle stood in the doorway, not moving, eyes glued on the wooden door. Your heart was hammering in your throat, stopping and speeding when you would hear the muffled words and screams from the other side. A rollercoaster of emotions, tummy dropping and turning, twisting and seeking further and further into your nerves. 

"She's a fuckin' child, Ed!"

"Gina, are you out of your fuckin' mind? She's an adult, a teacher. A really great teacher-"

"Probably because she's the same age as them! They have so much in common!"

"Oh, fuck off, Gina. Aren't you married? Why the fuck do you care?"

"I don't want someone like that around my daughter! What kind of example is this? Whoring herself with some old guy!"

"She is not-"

"-How would you feel if Brie was doing this, huh? Fucking around with a guy twice her age?"

Your stomach dropped when Eddie didn't reply. You felt the color drain, feeling sick to your stomach. Brielle looked at you carefully, fingers twisting around her overnight bag, wringing them nervously.

"That's what I thought." Gina's voice was firm, smug. "I don't know what you're going through, Eddie, but this is a lot. Even for you."

"Get the fuck outta my house, Gina." Eddie growled, heavy footsteps moving towards the door. You could hear her muffled, biting response, mean and biting even through the door.

You stepped back just as Eddie threw the door open, eyes furious and blazing. He ran a hand over his scruff, free hand balled by his side. He looked at you, eyes drooping gently- tired, defeated.

"'M gonna go outside." Eddie growled, stomping towards the back door. "Need a minute." His hand ran over Brie’s shoulder, comfortingly- an apology. 

You flinched when Eddie slammed the door, shaking the house. Brielle looked at you, eyes wide and cautious, embarrassed. "They... They do this all the time." She offered softly. You didn't reply, eyes still glued on the back door.

"I'm sorry..." Brielle said softly. You looked over at her. "For what my mom said." She added, rubbing her arms awkwardly. "She can be like that sometimes. Don't take it personally."

You nodded, tongue feeling thick and constricted in your mouth.

Brielle hesitated, looking from you back to the window where a stream of smoke could be seen. Eddie. She lifted her bag gently, moving down the hall to her room. You didn't move, you couldn't.

Gina's words hurt you. It made your head rattle with insecurities and racing thoughts, self doubt and humbled truths. Eddie's reaction- or lack thereof- to her final accusation had your stomach twisting, knotting. Why did it hurt you so bad? Was Eddie embarrassed of you?

Eddie came in from the backdoor, shoulders still tense but eyes softened, nicotine induced relaxation. "I'm sorry about that, bunny. She can be a real-" Eddie stopped, looking at you in the doorway.

You didn't move, stilling even at his voice, zoned on the wall in front of you. Eddie called your name softly, hands raised in a slow approach, like you were a frightened animal that might scatter. His brows furrowed, lips pulling into a soft frown. 

Your eyes met his, lip trembling gently. Eddie's face softened. "Baby, what's wrong?" He cooed, stepping towards you so he could rub his hands down your arms. "Don't let her upset you, ok? She just said all of that because wants you to be upset-"

"You didn't answer her." Your eyes flashed at him. His forehead creased in confusion. "When she said that about Brie, you didn't reply."

Eddie exhaled, tired, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Yeah, because I'm not arguing with her. It's pointless." He huffed. "All it does is make my blood pressure go up, and she just starts saying crazy shit. She thrives off that kinda attention, and it just gets worse when you give it to her. Trust me, baby." He muttered, eyes pinching shut at the thought. This was routine, a painful routine he was far too used to. 

You huffed, crossing your arms, stepping out of his grasp, anger bristling in your chest. "You answered her every other time, Ed." You bit, jaw clenching to keep your tears from falling.

Eddie threw his hands up. "What do you want me to say here? I wasn't gettin' into that with her-"

"Because you think she's right." You challenged him, brows raised in suspicion. "You think there's something wrong with this? With us?"

"No, fuck," Eddie growled, vein in his neck protruding, angry and prominent against his flushed skin. "I don't think there's anything wrong with us, ok? I wouldn't be doin' this if I did-"

"Then why didn't you say anything?" You shrieked, throwing your hands out. "You made it look like you thought that!" Your heart hammered in your chest, defensive and angry. 

Eddie's eyes bulged, head jutting forward. "Why? I wasn't lettin' her use my daughter against me like that ok? It's fucked up, and she knows what she's doin'! She knows it'll piss me off, and I'll fight with her the way she wants, and I'm not doin' that!" He boomed, voice bouncing off the walls, echoing into your ears.

Your eyes cut down the hall towards Brielle's room. Eddie huffed, shaking his head. You stood in silence, Eddie shaking his head, exhaling a short huff of air.

"I'm sorry, ok? I'm sorry I didn't say anything to her, I just-" Eddie stopped himself. "I was done. Done letting her say shit to you, to me, and she always drags Brie into the middle of it to try and make me feel bad or-or fight with her more."

You looked down at your feet. "I'm sorry." You muttered.

Eddie shook his head. "You don't have nothin' to be sorry for-"

"No, I'm sorry." You said sincerely, eyes lifting to him. "I'm sorry she does that to you. 'S not right."

Eddie's face softened, lines smoothing when you grabbed his hand, holding it gently, pressing kisses into his palm. "I don't think there's anything wrong with us. I was just scared...you did."

Eddie gave a lopsided smile, pulling you into him by your waist. "Nuh-uh," Eddie smirked, lips moving to your cheek, soft feathery kisses pressing against your skin.

"Just like a pretty little thing like you to keep me young." He teased, large hands giving your ass a firm squeeze, smiling as you squealed into his ear. "Nothin' wrong with that."

You smiled, moving his curly tendrils out of his face. He kissed you fully, lips sliding over yours in a passionate kiss that had your cheeks heating. "Don't listen to her, alright?" Eddie muttered against your lips.

You nod, looking over your shoulder, face falling when you look at Brielle's door. Eddie followed your gaze, shoulders dropping. "Was she upset?" He asked.

You shrugged lightly. "She said she did it all the time... Apologized to me for what she said." You muttered.

Eddie cringed gently, air exhaling out his mouth in a loud sigh. "'M just gonna go check on her." He said, eyes softening to look at you. "See where the hell she wants these drawers too." He huffed, motioning to the unfinished project in the living room.

You grinned, smacking his ass playfully in his sweatpants. "Go check on her." You teased, winking at him.Eddie raised his brows, grinning before pointing at you. "You better watch yourself, little girl." He purred, smirking at your blistering flush.

[allthelittlecreepycrawlies]

Originally another thread for @grtr3's little sangyaoFES, this one got even more heavily edited than the other, with a whole ending added and such. Could be read as a prequel to A Second Glance

Title: The Golden Cure

Ship: pre-SangYao

Tags: Sickfic, Mostly Fluff, Author Has Nothing Witty This Time

------------

His new sect leader had warned him that of all the sect territories, Qinghe Nie's was the coldest when winter hit.

Staring out at the heavy piles of snow as he shivered, Meng Yao thought that Nie Mingjue had still managed to undersell just how cold it could be this far north.

Well, there was nothing else to be done for it. He'd lit both of the censers that had come with the room, had worn the warmest of the clothing he'd taken from the disciple stores he’d been shown, and was wrapped in the heaviest of the blankets he'd been provided.

And still he shivered.

He turned his attention back to his desk, trying to concentrate on the day's unfinished records, but it was only a matter of moments before another set of harsh, chest rattling coughs escaped his mouth.

"Here."

Blinking through watering eyes, Meng Yao found a little golden bear on a stick being held in front of his face.

"What is it?" he asked, hating how rough and alien his voice sounded.

"It's made of salted jin ju paste and honey. It'll help with the pain in your throat," Nie Huaisang said as he laid down a tea tray with more of the bears sticking out of a jar and a pot of tea that had a strong smell of xiangcheng fruit.

Meng Yao took the stick, eyeing the golden bear a little warily, then popped it into his mouth.

The taste wasn't bad. He could see using these for flavoring tea on occasions.

He watched as Nie Huaisang poured them both full cups, and then took notice of the faint tremor in his hands and how pale he was.

Oh. 

Now he remembered overhearing his sect leader discussing winter preparations with the head of the infirmary hall, and one of the topics had been supplies for when his younger brother’s health took a dive "like it does every winter."

Which meant Nie Huaisang probably knew about all kinds of remedies and treatments for bad weather illness from personal experience.

Reassured, he simply rested his too-heavy head on his hand, letting the honey bear slowly melt in his mouth.

"This is your first northern winter, isn't it?" Huaisang asked as he set a steaming cup in front of him.

"Mm-hmm."

"Ouch, and with this one predicted to be especially harsh, too. On the bright side, with how hard you've been working, you should have your core built up enough that next winter will hardly touch you."

Meng Yao took the bear out of his mouth to speak. "If that's the case, why are you so adamant about not improving yours?"

Huaisang rolled one shoulder in a little half-shrug. "Most of my health issues are things I was born with. And some of them a core just can't fix unless I were to break all the way through to immortality."

A fair point, though it made Meng Yao a little morose about his own training goals. He rather hoped that the pain from cold spearing into injuries that had never fully healed wouldn't be on the list of things a stronger core couldn't fix.

"Then I will defer to your medical knowledge,” he said instead of any of those thoughts, pushing his uncertain feelings down deep.

Nie Huaisang snorted, amused. "Medical knowledge, he says. All I know is the stuff healers do to make picky kids not complain about how bad medicine tastes."

Still, the honey bear was helping soothe the roughness all the coughing had left in his throat. "It's good advice all the same. Thank you."

Nie Huaisang grinned at the praise, then motioned to the tea cup he'd set out. "Once you finish a couple of bears and the tea, we're heading to storage to get you some proper fur blankets, okay? Then I'm going to order you some heavier robes. Though… actually…" 

Meng Yao looked up, not liking the frown on Nie Huaisang's face as he tapped his cheek in thought. "Gongzi?" he asked hesitantly around the honey bear.

"You should have had winter clothing and blankets given to you already. Didn't one of the quartermasters talk to you?"

He could tell the truth; that when he’d picked up his first allotment of supplies on being brought to the Unclean Realms, the man who’d handed them over had snidely implied that it was all the generosity he’d be getting from the sect, and anything more would be coming out of his pay. 

While no one had actually made good on that threat, they'd given him enough runaround that he'd learned to stop requesting anything months ago.

He could say so. Nie Huaisang would believe him.

He could-

No. 

No, he wasn’t going to do that. 

Bad enough that there were some who mockingly accused him of hiding behind the sect leader; he didn’t want to give them any ammunition to use against his tentative relationship with the young master as well. 

He bit the last little part of the melted bear off the stick and laid it down. “Things have been busy. We probably just missed crossing paths,” he said.

“Hrm… If you say so,” Huaisang murmured, still looking dubious. “Alright, then. Next time you need something, come to me first, got it?”

“Your brother already disapproves of your spending, gongzi. Won’t he get angry?”

“He complains about inks or aviary supplies, he can’t complain when I’m making sure his best aide doesn’t spend the whole season sick because he’s not been equipped for the weather.”

A fair point. 

He still probably shouldn't be allowing this. While it wasn't the same as Nie Huaisang pulling heir rank on his behalf, everyone in the sect knew he wouldn't personally go commissioning clothing and such for just anyone.

Ah, but that particular ship had already sailed, evidenced by the braids and guan in his hair.

(And the little custard cakes that appeared like magic in his desk drawer on occasion, but no one knew about those besides the two of them.)

And… honestly… a part of him enjoyed the fact that his young master saw him as someone he wanted to spoil. Someone his young master would make the effort for.

He smiled as he reached for the next bear on a stick Nie Huaisang held out to him.

"Very well. I accept your offer."

[loveaffaire]

Seasons

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Warnings/tags: a bit of angst, fluff, cheating (not by Peter/reader), Pete being a hopeless romantic as always

Word Count: 1.3k, I swear these blurb requests are turning into full one shots because I love Peter being completely whipped by the reader :(

A/N: @spiderholland101 I’ll be honest, I’ve never heard any of those songs so I picked a bunch of lyrics and built a story around it, just 1.3k words of Peter being desperately in love with the reader! Enjoy <3

🤍JOIN MY SLEEPOVER🤍

Summer - Heaven help a fool who falls in love

Peter tried not to stare at you but it was hard when you were sitting two seats away from him in chemistry class. Your skin looked as soft as cotton, lips plump and covered in strawberry chapstick, hair softly shining in the sunlight coming through the window.

His heart would beat a little faster every time you’d laugh, his breath would hitch each time you’d run to him in a crowded room, a smile would find its way on his lips the second his phone would light up with a text message from you.

It’s gonna get messy so don’t fall in love with your best friend, you fool, he’d tell himself.

❥ ‑‑‑‑

Autumn - You've been on my mind girl like a drug

Peter stood still in the middle of the school entrance as he watched you kiss Harry, his hands in your hands, a smile on your lips. It was like getting shot in the head and no, he wasn’t exaggerating, that is exactly how it felt to see your best friend that you are in love with be in love with someone else.

He pulled himself out of his daydream of repeatedly punching Harry in the face and rushed towards you. You pulled away from your boyfriend as soon as you heard footsteps approaching you, a smile settled on your lips when you saw Peter.

“Ready to go?” Peter asked, completely ignoring Harry and you nodded. To his dismay, Harry didn’t let go of your hand without giving you a very steamy kiss right in front of him.

You made small talk on the way to his house and Peter tried to focus on anything other than the kiss you and Harry shared just a few minutes ago. And when you sat on his bed, eyebrows frowned in concentration over chemistry, Peter’s eyebrows were frowned for a whole other reason. Thoughts of you getting too busy in your love life and forgetting him creeped up on his mind and you noticed.

“What’s wrong, Pete?”

“Uh… can’t understand this question”

“You weren’t even looking at the question, you were looking at me” your voice low as you scanned his face, “did I do something?”

Peter’s eyes widened, “no, y-you didn’t do anything, nothing”

“Okay so what is it?”

Peter sighed, biting on his lip because he was nervous and too afraid to say something wrong but he decided to be honest, “just scared you’ll get too busy with Harry and stop hanging out with me, it’s just a thought”

You were taken by surprise by this but soon, the sound of your soft laughter filled the room, “forget about you? We’ve been friends since forever, no boy is ever going to come between us Peter”

Peter’s eyes glimmered at your words, his cheeks turning rosy as he processed your words.

“Anyway, I’m too scared that you’ll forget about me because I saw you hanging out with all those smart science kids earlier today” you teased, your forefinger wiggling in his face as he shook his head, smiling.

How can I forget about you when you’ve been on my mind like a drug, he thought to himself.

❥ ‑‑‑‑

Winter - I wonder what it's like to be loved by you

The cold came and the days turned ugly, one text message to Peter and he was running to your house in the middle of the night.

You saw Peter through your window and opened the door, running into his arms. The impact was so hard that he almost fell back as your hands clutched on his jacket.

“He cheated on me” you cried, voice strained from the previous screaming match with Harry over call.

Peter held you close, walking back inside your house and closing the door behind. As soon as he let go of you, you fell down to your knees and he got down right in front of you as he wiped your tears with his sleeves.

“He doesn’t deserve you, Y/N” he said sincerely. His hands holding the back of your head to make you look at him and he almost kissed you that night. But he didn’t because what if you push him away, one heartbreak was enough for tonight anyway.

As he watched you weep on his shoulder for a boy who clearly didn’t deserve you, he wondered how it felt to be loved by you and if he’ll ever get to be loved by you at all.

❥ ‑‑‑‑

Spring - Wouldn't it be nice to live inside a world that isn't black and white

The colours were a bit brighter than before, the leaves and the flowers blooming again in the soft spring wind. Just like them, you were blooming too. You were the old Y/N again, the same old Y/N who was there before Harry came along and ruined it.

The glow in your eyes was visible, your smile felt more real now and you felt more comfortable in your skin than you did 2 months ago. Peter even helped you pack a box of all the things that your ex-boyfriend left at your place and you later sold those things at a thrift store.

Peter started seeing more of you, he would either be at your place after school or you’d be at his and sometimes, you’d go to the ice cream place near his place on a hot day.

As he watched you munch on your ice cream cone, the vanilla on your lip looked a bit more appetising then it did when it was on the cone and he almost leaned in to have a taste.

“Is there something on my face”

“No”

“Why are you staring then?” you smiled and raised your eyebrows at him.

“Oh, shut up” he rolled his eyes, “come on, let me walk you home before it gets dark”

With you walking by his side and the way your knuckles gently brushed against his made him realise how much brighter his world looked now. How wonderful it was to live in a world which wasn’t black and white anymore and it was all because of you.

❥ ‑‑‑‑

Summer - Honey I love you

The sun was setting, both of you returning from the summer fair and he finally gained the courage to hold your hand on the way back home. The hot weather was making your palm sweaty but Peter couldn’t care less. You were literally here, holding his hand in yours and he didn’t want to let go.

“Peter”

“Yes?”

“Will you say it?”

Peter frowned in confusion, “say what?”

“You know what” you bit your lips, a bit of sadness in your eyes.

“I- I don’t know what you’re talking about” Peter stuttered.

Peter was clueless. For a straight A grade student, he was pretty dumb when it came to love and you.

“So you will just never tell me that you are in love with me?”

Peter halted in his step and that halted you in yours. His hand slightly loosened its hold on yours in horror but you were quick to tighten your hold on his hand, even tugging him closer to yourself so you both were face to face.

“You know?” He finally spoke up, voice in a whisper and mouth agape in shock.

“It’s hard to miss when you’re right there staring at me with your big brown doe eyes” you softly giggled, feeling a bit shy now, “and how you get flustered when I compliment you, how you always have my back and how you always pick me up, it’s obvious that it’s more than just… friendship”

Yes, you knew. You have been waiting for him to say something, anything at all to show you that he loved you but as time passed and still no word from Peter, you finally took matters in your own hands.

Peter was speechless and you have had enough, you sighed and let go of his hand. Peter almost collapsed when you placed your hands on either side of his face and pulled him in.

You filled the gap between you both as you pressed a soft peck to his lips and his eyes fluttered like butterfly wings, savouring in the feeling of the airy kiss. Your lips felt like a light feather, barely there but just enough to make him feel lightheaded for a second.

You pulled away quickly but then pressed your forehead to his and closed your eyes tightly, “honey, I love you”

You said it like a promise, your chest felt a little lighter when the words were finally out and Peter’s heart started racing in his chest again. When he finally processed what had happened, he didn’t waste another moment as he pulled you back in for a kiss.

“I love you” he whispered, words muffled with his lips never leaving yours, “I love you, Y/N”

He repeated the words multiple times, telling you ‘I love you’ for every single time he couldn’t in the past and your eyes watered at the intensity of emotions soaring in your chest.

As he stood there kissing you, his mind went back to last winter and how he wondered how it would feel to be loved by you but now he didn’t have to wonder anymore. He knew how it felt to be loved by you and it felt like heaven.

Anyway, hopeless romantic Peter, my beloved🥰

[outlustings]

doctor and nurse roleplay with pre-engine rick 👀

(okay but like yes. rick would love to fuck you in a clichéd sexy nurse outfit that's made from like cheap pvc or something while he does a little friendly, buddyish pelvic examination and no i will not take criticism of this idea.)

×

This costume is so ugly and gaudy, you thought to yourself as you felt Rick lift up the hem of your tiny miniskirt, his lips just above the popped collar of your little uniform - but he liked it. He loved it, and that's all that mattered, his heavy sighs against your skin as you clung onto his white coat, rocking against the tented front of his trousers as he sat you up on the desk like a little fuckdoll.

He had insisted. And who were you to deny your good doctor?

"That's such a good little nursey," he purred, curling his fingers up inside you, the cold latex rubbing against your walls, making you gasp and cling onto the desk beneath you, "Ooh, tight - but I think I can remedy that. Just - ..."

With his tongue resting on his bottom lip in exaggerated, playful concentration he pressed the tip of his middle finger against your entrance, and your muscles relented, swallowing his finger greedily.

"Ah... There we go," he hummed, his wrist rolling against you as he thrusted his fingers in and out of you, "That's good, isn't it?"

You nodded, biting your lip, the waxy taste of your lipstick bitter on your tongue as you squeezed your thighs together, clamping around his forearm as he fucked you with his fingers.

"Ah, ah," he tutted, the long fingers of his free hand gripping the soft flesh of your trembling thigh, pushing your legs open, "Keep 'em open, nurse. Let the good doctor examine you properly."

You moaned as you felt his fingernails dig into your thigh, his fingers still sliding in and out of you as he chuckled against your collarbone.

"O-oh, yes, doctor," you nodded weakly.

"Hm," he cocked his head, his eyes flicking to your grinding hips, the way your heat engulfed him, rocking against his palm as you silently begged for more.

"Doctor," you grunted as Rick spread your legs further, pressing your hips against the table.

"You're so hot," he sighed, "Fever. I can taste it."

With a wet pop, he pulled his fingers out of you and you gasped, the cool air clinging to the wetness of the lube between your legs. Rick just grinned.

He rolled your skirt up, gave your stockings a nod of approval as he knelt down before you, planting little fluttery kisses on your thighs, just above where the tightness of the nylon squeezed your thigh.

"Such a pretty little patient I've got," he purred, pulling your underwear to the side and craning his neck, giving your sex a sloppy kiss as you shuddered, your legs shaking as you tried to hold them up, "I'll make sure you get an employee discount on this."

He pressed his finger to your entrance, slipping it in with ease, the slick sound making you moan as you felt full again.

"Tight," he hissed.

"I'm sorry," you swallowed, feeling yourself grip his finger greedily, felt his other finger teasing your hole as his other, non-gloved hand stroked your throbbing arousal.

"No need to be sorry, I'm here to help you," he hummed, pressing his face against you, the wetness of his tongue dragging over your flesh and you moaned, high in pitch, so slutty and needy - but he grunted against you, approving, so enamoured by your little whines.

Another finger. You lost track of time when he added a third one, the only thing you could do was to hold onto the edge of the desk, your knuckles white as you bucked against his hot, wet mouth, into it, rolling your hips against him, sighing every time his fingers pushed in deeper. He moaned against you, looked up at you with those pale eyes, giving you a lewd wink before sucking a hickey on your thigh. You panted, watched how his saliva dripped down to his chin.

"Such a good little nurse, all for me," he mumbled, "So tight and tasty. I can't wait to fuck you - can't wait to see how tight that ass is around my cock..."

You mewled.

His tongue moved faster over you, long, flat laves against your throbbing flesh as three of his fingers pistoned into you, stretching you to your limit. You could hear the creak of the latex, could smell your own arousal, heavy and sweet in the air as Rick grunted against your groin, suckling on you as you writhed in his grasp, clamping your legs around his shoulders as he devoured you with sloppy, needy kisses, his brows furrowed in concentration as he tried to make you cum - you knew that determined look - he was going to make you cum, and you could feel it inside you, with every thrust of his fingers, the cool latex growing hot within your insides as your hips bucked against his sharp nose, again and again, right there.

"Doctor," you groaned breathily, your hand flying to the top of his head, pushing him down, and his moan reverberated against your heat as his eyes flicked up to you, behind your heaving chest as you twisted your hand into his thick, wild, sweaty hair, "Oh, fuck, doctor Trager - I'm going to cum..."

You thrashed wildly, fucking his face as he tried to nod feverishly, pushing his face against your hips, his fingers curling inside you, twitching, trembling, so fast. You pulled on his hair as your jaw fell slack and with a throaty whine, you came in his mouth. You clenched around his fingers, pushing him out as your thighs shuddered and seized on his shoulders, soft flesh scratching against the white cotton of his lab coat. You came and came until you finally heard your own voice again, loosening your grip on Rick's hair as he pulled away, panting, lips swollen and glistening, his narrow face flushed, glowing with his sweat as he gave you a slight grin.

"Holy shit," you said weakly, shaking your head, hearing the rustle of stiff fabric as he rose up from the floor, pulling off his glove with a sticky little fwop, tossing it to the side.

"Well, that was something," he laughed, "Bend over."

"What, you're serious?" your eyes widened as he gave a quick peck to your temple, a kiss that smelt too much like you - hot, musky. Your cum on his breath.

His hand flew to the scruff of your neck, his narrow hips grinding against your burning core, his rock hard erection rubbing up against you.

"We're not done yet, nursey," he grunted, holding your hair, tight, pulling, so tight, "I took care of you - now... Now it's time to pay up. Insurance doesn't exactly cover this."

You rolled your eyes at his chuckle.

[everyhowlmarksthedead]

All night long.

CHIBS TELFORD.  ┃ SOA.

❝ request by @filipthescot: Holaaaaa mi amooooor!! If you feel like it, I'd love to read Prompt 4 from the smut list with my man Filip😇💚

❝ request by @ladyreapermc: Number 2 for the smut prompts with my favorite Scot Chibs? Please? 🙏🏻

❝ request by @irenne-stans: Could you do the fluff promt #10 with Chibs please 🥺💗

❝ prompts: “One more cheesy pick up line and I’m gonna bend you over the table and fuck you in front of everyone”. / “I know you think about me at night”. / “It smells like… I don't know… jealousy?”

❝ words: about 1.4k.

❝ warnings: nsfw, smut, oral sex (male receiving), fingering, mention of bodily fluids, explicit thoughts, language, and i think that's all.

Gif credits to the author.

MASTERLIST.

Chibs is burning in rage watching you flirt with the new prospect, sitting on the bar with a glass of whisky in his hand and the other arm over the clingy wood. He's trying to figure out what it's been so fun to make you laugh this way. He's a man of jokes too and he hasn't seen you like that with him. That's pissing him off. And all that he wants to do right now is to put his gun on that guy, where the sun doesn't shine and blow out his guts.

But he has to pretend he wasn't looking at you like a maniac the moment you turn around to walk straight to the bar and grab another beer. Resting your forearms on the edge to wait for your drink, you tilt your head towards him.

“What's that face for? Someone told you Nessie doesn't exist, uh?”

Slowly, too slowly, he moves his eyes from the prospect to you. Annoyed. About to punch anyone that crosses his path right now.

“'Am not having fun like ye, that' fo' sure”. Chibs replies, taking a sip from his drink.

You frown funnily at his words, not really believing what is happening right there. “It smells like… I don’t know… jealousy?”

Waving a hand close to his face, you pretend to be smelling the environment around the two of you, before he slaps it playfully as you finally have erased the sour grimace from his face.

“C'mon, Chibsy. Don't deny what is clear to my eyes”.

“Ye're blind, lass”.

About to challenge him, you take a step closer placing your index finger on his collarbone, dragging it over his shirt down through his torso. You see him gulping inevitably, clicking his tongue with feigned annoyance, putting your eyes away from yours. “I know you think about me at night”.

Chibs purses his lips not enjoying that game you're playing and, that under his opinion, will end up worshipping himself in the darkness of his room while thinking about you —like uncountable times he has done.

“The prospect had the balls to talk with me, but he's a five on my scale”.

“Bad luck fo' him”.

“Good for you, isn't it?” You say poking the tip of his nose graciously, earning again his complete attention. “From one to ten, you're a nine and I'm the one you need”.

The Scottish man chokes on his drink as the liquid falls through the wrong side, making him cough while cleaning his mouth with the back of his hand. His eyebrows are frowned angrily, thinking you're just making fun of him.

“Stop playen'”.

“I'm not playing, but if you want, I know a game. It's called Titanic”.

Rubbing his face with his free hand, Chibs snorts deeply, laying his eyes on you waiting for a continuation or an explanation.

“You can be the ocean and I'll go down on you”.

“One mo' cheesy pickup line and amma bend ye over the table and fuck ye in front of everyone”.

Licking and biting your bottom lip, you grab the glass in his hand to empty it with a gulp to leave it over the bar, an instant before gripping your fingers around his wrist to drag him straight to the dorms. You've been waiting too much time for this to happen. And yes, maybe you were playing at first, tasting the water. But he wasn't lying when he has threatened you. Of course, you two earn more attention than you could expect, when the crew watches you disappearing from the party —between cheers and claps and finallys.

As soon as you're locked inside his room, your lips crash with his. You're too necessitated, so is he; devouring your mouth while your fingers manage to undo his belt and the zip of his jeans. Chibs grunts with his tongue inside your cavity and his huge hands squeezing your ass, anxious to feel that same warm wrapping around all his hard length. And you aren't going to make him wait, having the same burning desire for tasting him.

Pushing him to the nearest wall, reclining his back against it, you roll down his black tight jeans and boxers to his ankles —as promised, you kneel. Chibs can't take off his eyes from yours, looking at you begging in silence to alleviate the bittersweet pain concentrated in his hardness. God, he has dreamt about this thousands of times. Your tongue swirling around his dick, your throat welcoming him, your lips sucking his soul out from his body.

So when you fill your mouth with his thick length until your nose touches his pelvis, Filip can't help but close his eyes uttering a pleased grunt echoing the room. His fingers land automatically on your head, forcing you to hold his reddened glans against your walls, making you gag vibrating his whole anatomy. He could cum just by feeling these same shivers another time.

“For chrissake…” He moans swinging your head back and forth, whilst your left hand massages his balls.

Chibs has never felt this good. He's trying to keep calm and control himself from fucking your mouth as he'd like to do right now. Brutality, fastly, without mercy. He can't wait to see his cream spilling down the curves of your lips, making you choke on his dick.

“God… Ye look so beautiful”. He whispers as good as he can.

His vocals cause you to smile somehow, increasing the pace of your dance wrapping his whole extension with the only intention of driving him crazy. And you're getting it, preventing Chibs from breathing quietly. A mix of gasps and whining comes from the deepest place of his soul, helping you with the rhythm needed for more. He buries his dick down your throat, filling your cavity and forcing your walls until your uvula trembles above his most sensitive skin.

He knows he's so close, ashamed for not lasting more than a couple of minutes. He's a man that can please you all night long, but the wait has wreaked havoc in him. Too much time spent on imagining how it would feel. Too much time spent on imagining himself pawing your body, nailing his ringed fingers into your soaked cunt. Too much time spent on imagining hearing you moan his name, begging him to let you cum while riding his face.

And of course, he's going to fulfill his fantasies tonight, leaving your legs shaking and your pussy flooded by his seed.

Just to think about it, Chibs has to contain his breathing when you abuse your throat one last time, feeling how he empties his heat inside your mouth. Ripping his chest by swallowing a loud delighted grunt, as his hands continue pressing your head deeper, you cough slightly until he loosens his grip. Filip doesn't give you time to recover, urging you to stand up, colliding your mouth to taste himself in your saliva. The best combination he has ever savored.

With a tight hand gripping your throat he makes you turn around, pinning you to the wall, using the other to eagerly roll up the gems of your dress and push down your wet panties enough to slam to curved fingers inside you. You cry out with his lips stuck in yours, pounding you with so much savageness that he needs to husk you, or the whole Charming will hear you.

“Ye… Bad girl… Playen' with the prospect ti make me feel jealous…” He groans huskily, not being able to think about it as his thrusts cloud your head. “Gonna make ye understand why whiskey is better than bourbon”.

“Please, Ch— Chibs… I fucking beg you”.

You want him to fuck you, that's evident. You want him to fuck you in every single possible position, in every single corner of this damn town. And he's going to do it —but…

“Say ye're sorre”. He hisses onto your ear, nailing his fingers as much deep as he can, forcing your limits and pushing them to beyond. “Say ye're sorre fo' making me wait, fo' playen with me”.

“I am… I a— am sorry”. You sob placing your hands on his shoulders looking for some balance, as he raises you on your tiptoes. “I am so sorry, Chibsy… Please… Please, fuck me”.

“'Corse I will, my love. Till ye beg me again, but ti stop”.

If you've liked it, lemme know in a comment, I’d really appreciate it. Reblogs are welcome too, so more people can enjoy it! ✨

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[bangtanpromptsfics]

gardenia. (m)

dialogue prompt #7: “Don't push me away anymore”

pairing: jungkook x reader

genre: fwb, angst, smut

word count: 2,110

warnings: mentions of smoking, making out, oral (f receiving), fingering, a brief handjob, protected sex

summary: pretty cliche. you have feelings for your fuck-buddy.

a/n: I think this is the longest smut I've written (?), I know 2k words is nothing for a fic but still 0_0 and with this there are a total of 7 jungkook oneshots so I'll be concentrating on the rest of the members and then begin writing au oneshots!!

masterlist

“Don't push me away anymore”, he pants, “please… ”

“Jungkook I'm not doing this right now”, you snap at him. He looked really tired to have energy to make it back to the apartment, and if it was any other day you would've gladly let him in and give his favorite soft blue blankets and let him cuddle you. 

“I didn't mean it. I was so wrong Y/n. I was stupid. Just let me explain for once…”. He slowly enters in. You hate that however much you tried, he's going to win you over. However much you say you hate him, all of that wall shatters the moment he locks eyes. 

“Explain then”, you cross your arms and watch his frame waddling to sit on the couch. 

“I swear I never knew you had feelings for me“ he ruffles his hair into a mess, his chest clenches when he thinks about all that he has to tell you, “I thought… I thought it was just sex… and… and when you confessed to me during the game, I… I thought it was all a part of it”. 

“You don't need me to tell me all the things I already know Jungkook. You don't have anything else to say?”, you huff. 

“And I'm sorry. I shouldn't have made fun of you. I'm an asshole. That was...that was so wrong of me”. He stands up from his seat and comes close, only to see you walking back. It breaks him more. 

It was three days ago when Jimin hosted a party, drinks and all, with some Las Vegas theme just for the sake of it. Since he's part of your close friend circle, you promise to tag along. You should've stayed back to complete that philosophy research paper. 

And then everyone drinks of course. It's some cheap liquid, purple enough to make you lose appetite. But you drink four cups of it anyway and Jungkook nine. 

Then came a dreadful game of truth or dare. A very cliche way to make a love confession. You are usually the type to keep it all in. But you had been fucking Jungkook for so long, it became harder and harder to put a show. As every heated night with him passes, the space for him inside your heart only expands. 

And so you couldn't take it much and went ahead and said that you love Jungkook when Taehyung asked to confess something Jungkook doesn't know about. A rejection was well expected. The only thing you expected in fact. But it got much worse. 

Jungkook went ahead and made fun of you for falling for him. He said your obsession for his dick isn't any love. Yada yada it made you cry, Jungkook sensed he had fucked up, Taehyung felt guilty since he's the one who asked you in the first place and Namjoon made sure you reach your apartment safe, give you a hug and vowed he'll have a talk with Jungkook the next day. 

And so you waited, and grew angry that it really took him three full days to come up with a basic apology. 

But Jungkook was in his own pit of loathing. It took him a few hours into crying on his couch to realise he has feelings for you too. If it was just the fact of pleasure, he would have definitely fucked other girls. But he didn't. 

He enjoyed being with you way too much. But he was dumb and all the more a dick to tease your feelings. 

“Nothing else?, you ask him, with tears demanding to pour out. You keep knawing your skin with nails to stop yourself from crying. 

“I… think… I have feelings for you too”, he whispers and then sobs. His eyes are already puffy. It only showed how much you meant to him, but you're still afraid to jump into conclusions until solid answers. 

“I want you to be sure Koo”.

He feels a wave of relief hit him when you addressed him by his favorite nickname. It gave him hope that you accepted his apology. 

He looks up at you with a smile, “I'm sure. I love you Y/n”.

And then he is putting out a single hand towards you, hoping you'll come to his embrace. He notices the mess you're in while there's few moments of stillness lingering. Your apartment looked like it was in a havoc, a clear representation of both of your fucked up brains. You move a step to let him hold the side of your face. 

It was unreal how healing it was to feel his skin again that you close your eyes to fully dwell in it. 

He very carefully guides your heads into his chest and kisses the crown of it. 

“Koo…”, you smile softly against the softness of his hoodie when he starts rocking both of your bodies from side to side. 

“Hmm?”

You look up to his face. His doe eyes almost disappear inside the red swollen lids when he smiles back at you. You tip-toe to place a sweet kiss on his eyes while he closes it. Planting slow and sensual kisses, just letting the night drape over you.

You move your hands underneath his hoodie to feel his toned torso and he smiles at the warmth of your palm pressing against him. He missed this so much. He missed you so much. And he wants to make things right now.

You give a small nod of consent, telling him it's okay to kiss you. It looked like he was smoking to cope with his feelings. He tasted like the faintness of blunt and mint mouthwash.

“God I love you so much Y/n”, he says again, just to make sure you believe him because he fears you are still holding back.

You cup his face and press back your mouth to his, tongue experimentally laving at him which he happily complies.

Jungkook tugs at your hoodie now, wanting to set your skin ablaze like every time. And after a brief moment of kissing, he pulls your hoodie out making you half naked and aroused.

“Koo please touch me”, you whine, pressing your body towards him. He chuckles before holding your hands and towing you towards your bedroom.

Once making sure the doors and windows are closed, he resumes to you who is waiting rather impatiently at the edge of the bed.

He gets on his knees in front of you, drawing slow circles at the side of your hips, eyes looking for consent yet again. He was afraid if he was being honest. Your relationship seemed really fragile and he is afraid to break it apart once again.

“What's holding you back?”, you read his mind, feeling him not completely present at the moment. He has fear laced in his eyes, in his touch and you want to relieve him of it all.

“It's okay Koo. I promise. Make love to me please”, you assure, holding his face on your palm.

You have never referred to intimacy with Jungkook as ‘making love’, and he is blown away with a certain kind of happiness at that.

He reciprocates a smile before planting smooches on your belly while his hands work on your sweatpants.

Jungkook knows you get pretty self aware of your body at times like this and especially when he has not ridden himself of any clothing yet. So he pulls his hoodie over, a very notable distraction to keep your mind busy while he starts to work up with kissing the blush of your knees.

You spread your legs for him to sit closer to your core, already dripping out juices he craves so much.

He bites and sucks at the skin of your inner thigh, slow and steady to make you practically beg for his tongue. And you twist your fingers on his hair to ready yourself.

A silent moan erupts out of you at the first swipe at your core, and you move closer to his face to feel his entire face press on to your pussy.

He kisses the labia like he would to your mouth, taking his time and tasting what you have to give and when his nose presses against your clit, the first audible moan reaches Jungkook’s ears.

You are mostly silent in bed. A very useful information for Jungkook to fuck you whenever and wherever he wants, like he used to on your friend phase days. And to give pleasure to you so intense that you make beautiful melodies despite it was one of his personal goals every time.

Hyped at the sounds he is hearing, he holds nothing back. Diving straight for the much awaited lick of your clit, he kisses and draws patterns with his tongue to pull you apart faster.

“J-jungkoo- ah!”, you mewl, squirming vigorously. The only thing holding you in position to him being his strong arms digging at the side of your hips.

Knowing you wanted to climax so bad, he plunges two of his fingers knuckle deep into your core, scissoring them simultaneously as his mouth works above.

As you come, he laps everything he can and plants a final sweet kiss to the lips of your pussy.

Not giving him a chance to speak, you push your body down to meet him for a kiss, thankful for the mind splitting orgasm.

He stands on his feet and gets on bed to hover your figure.

“Always beautiful...”, he coos and kisses your temple before restarting his sin on your left boob.

“Jungkook please”, you cry out. The stimulation way too much to process and making your walls flutter on your core. He rolls his hips to your pelvis, feeling his hardness straining against the soft material of the sweatpants.

He seemed to be enjoying way to much of controlling you so you reach down to dig past the waistband of his pants to feel his hardness slick with some pre cum.

“Y-y/n”. He stops all of a sudden, parting his swollen lips from your nipples and sighing at the feel of your fingers curling against his length.

You were amused to see him getting worked up with a simple handjob. Your hand is getting slick of more of his pre cum oozing out as time passes by.

“Jungkook...please”, you plead once more and he is quick to act this time. His full expanse of skin exposed to you once his pants are out of the way.

“Are there condoms in the drawer baby?”, he asks quickly whilst palming himself to stay stimulated.

You nod and he gets off of bed to prep himself, knowing you and the belongings of your room all too well.

“Ready baby?”

“I swear to God Koo just do it”, you say this time and watch his chest rumble in a deep groan.

Your hands fly to his shoulders when he presses in the head of his cock. He observes your face twisting in various shades of bliss when he presses into you slowly until fully bottoming out.

Bending your knees, he places himself better and rolls his hips into you, both of you grunting at the feeling.

“F-fuck baby”, he moans, his pace slowly coming up and every switch of speed earns different sounds from you and that drives him more.

You look utterly divine like this. Your delicate hands scratching bruises on his shoulders, lips agape and face covered in faint sweat from the heat of both bodies. At one moment he pulls his cock out all the way back to the tip before ramming it inside you making your skin jump up in delight.

“I'm gonna cum Y/n”, he sighs, feeling his nerves kicking in. He buries his hands between your thighs to rub at your clit, wanting to feel your cum around him as he spills out.

“I'm-”. You feel another band snap, walls clenching around him with your juices which fuels Jungkook’s orgasm. His movements come to a halt once he had drawn out the euphoria and bends down to steal another kiss from you.

“Thank you so much Y/n”

You giggle, squirming your body as he pulls out and discards the condom to the dust bin, “Why Koo?”.

He returns by your side, wrapping his arms around your waist and burying his face between your breasts, breathing in the sweet scent, “For believing in me. I was so scared”, he confesses.

Emotions from earlier boils to the surface and you kiss the crown of his head in return.

“Don't worry I won't leave you”

“Yeah?”

You kiss his forehead, “Yeah”.

Thank you so much for reading!! ♡♡

Original Content of ©bangtanpromptsfics

[nightshade-minho]

Halloween Costumes (2) 

💀 Han

[ warnings: public, kind of fear kink but also not? fingering, light degradation ]

You barely noticed Jisung’s fingers sliding between your thighs, your heart still pounding in fear as the ride slowed down in the dark tunnel, the atmosphere eerily quiet.

That is, until you felt his fingers rubbing over your clit, clearly using the fact that you were wearing a skirt to his advantage. You looked up at Jisung’s face with a glare, covered in a ghostly sheen thanks to his make-up. Was it weird that you somehow found him hotter like this? 

“Jisung...this is not the t-time nor the place- fuck-”

He shook his head, leaning in to whisper into your ear. “I don’t agree, babe. You look so delectable dressed like that, how do you expect me to resist this?” He gave you a cheeky grin as he pulled away, his fingers deftly sliding your panties to the side. The rush of cold air made you bite your lip, your mind momentarily forgetting your fear.

However a jumpscare took place at the same time he slid his finger in, making you jolt and scream loudly, voice almost giving out.

Jisung grinned widely at your reaction, the ride starting to move at a fast pace once more. He decided to thrust his digits quicker, loving how your moans were mixed with screams, your heart beating fast. Your brain could barely make sense of all of the different sensations you were feeling.

Meanwhile the man sitting next to you laughed maniacally, grabbing your face to look at him as he pressed his lips to yours.

"Damn, you love this don't you, little slut?" He chuckled against your lips, slipping his tongue into your mouth just as he inserted another finger.

He was right, you did. The adrenaline coursing through your veins was only serving to heighten the pleasure Jisung was giving you. He bit your bottom lip as he pulled away, crooking his fingers and fucking them into you roughly. His expression was a stark contrast to the sinful actions his fingers were carrying out down there, a wide smile decorating his face. 

Your orgasm was approaching quickly, and you bit your lip as you felt the beginnings of it spread outward over your entire body. 

The ride was coming to a halt, still speedily hurtling through the tunnel as it was about to reach its end. Soon, it began to slow down.

Jisung pulled his fingers out almost immediately, causing you to let out a pitiful whine, legs still quivering.

Your pussy was still throbbing, frustration filling you at the loss of your orgasm. You turned to Jisung with a frown, ready to berate him when he shut you up with a peck.

"Come on, baby." He held his hand out to you, helping you out of the ride as it stopped.

"If you're going to cum tonight, it will be on my cock."

💀 Felix

[ warnings: unprotected sex, fake gun play, marking kink, for some reason you thought it would be a good idea to wear a horse costume lmao ]

You were supposed to have been at a Halloween party by now. But no, here you were, getting absolutely wrecked by your boyfriend as he took you over the dining table. You knew you should have exhibited some self control...but as soon as you laid your eyes on him in his cowboy attire, gun strapped to his holster, his hair beautiful messed and sporting a jaunty hat - you knew the night would end with his cum in you.

"We're- fuck- going to be so late." You groaned, unable to breathe as Felix's solid length filled you up deliciously, your tight heat welcoming him in with every thrust.

"I don’t give a fuck, kitten. After all, this was how our night was going to end any way, right?"

"Our friends will be waiting for us." You managed to speak, your mouth dropping open as the sheer pleasure took over your weak body, your boyfriend’s aura piercing into you firmly.

"Let them fucking wait." He groaned, leaning down and molding his lips with yours. "I don't care if we're going to miss the party, baby. All I care about right now is your beautiful body, worn out and naked for me."

He slammed his hips into yours repeatedly, making sure his grip on your waist was tight enough to leave marks. Felix loved marking you up. The thought of everyone seeing you and immediately knowing you belonged to him turned him on beyond belief.

"You're mine." He hissed, his lips trailing down to nip just above your nipple, the action drawing out a surprised groan from you. "Mine mine mine mine."

He slowly drew out the fake gun from his holster, smirking as he pressed it above your clit. Your eyes widened impossibly large- your pussy tightening around him as a new wave of arousal gushed out of you.

Moving the top of the gun gently enough to stimulate you without having to hurt you, Felix leaned down to kiss your neck once more.

"You think a cowboy is sexy? Well, I guess I can agree. You know what isn't a good costume, though?"

He pointed to the shreds of fabric on the floor, your horse costume having had been ripped off by him. You followed his gaze, cheeks flushing. You honestly don’t know what you were thinking when you bought that.

"You wouldn't have looked good in that. Hell, no one can pull that shit off." He chuckled deeply, pressing his lips to yours again as you felt him brush against your sweet spot.

"I prefer you in your birthday suit, anyways.”

💀 Seungmin

[ warnings: slave kink, fingering ]

“Please.” You begged.

When you’d agreed to Seungmin’s idea, this wasn’t what you had expected. Sure, you’d thought. If he wanted to plan your activities for Halloween, why not?

And here you were now, completely tied up and naked as the day you were born. You rarely relinquished all your power to him in this manner, rarely let him do these things. He’d sat on the ornate armchair in the corner of your room, leg crossed over the other as he tapped his chin.

His attire was regal, too expensive and luxurious to even be considered a costume. The cherry on top was the opulent crown resting on his head. He really did look majestic, like a true king.

What did that make you?

“Please?” Seungmin scoffed, his lips spreading into a smirk as he glanced you up and down. “You could do a lot better than that, my baby. Can’t you?”

“I...I just-” You sobbed, your pussy throbbing with need. You wanted him inside you, now. Unfortunately, you’re in no place to order him around. No, that’s his job.

“Go on.” His eyes shone as he stood up, walking closer to the bed. “Tell me what you want.”

“I...” You swallowed, unable to hold yourself back. Shedding your dignity, you whimpered, looking up at him helplessly. “I need you so bad, Your Majesty. I want you to ruin me, fuck me until I can’t breathe, treat me like your slave. Cause th-that’s all I am.”

You scrunched your eyes shut, too nervous to see his expression. A few seconds of silence passed, before you felt his long fingers sliding up your folds. The touch you’d long craved made you jolt forward, a long whine leaving your lips. “P-please- more...”

He chuckled, finger poking at your entrance as he pet your head condescendingly. “Don’t worry, my little servant.”

His digits slid in all of a sudden, making you cry out, your eyes opening.

The sight in front of you almost made you wish you’d kept them closed. His lip was held between his teeth, as his eyes took in your entire form, his face closer to yours than you’d expected.

His lips brushed against the shell of your ear as he spoke, in time with a cruel thrust.

“I’ll make sure you serve your lord well.”

💀 I.N

[ warnings: fingering, unprotected sex, degradation ]

You could barely concentrate on mixing the batter, your eyes fluttering as you kept a tight grip on the wooden spoon. How could anyone expect you to think straight when your boyfriend's fingers were running through your swollen folds, collecting your juices and sucking on his digits right after?

You let out an embarrassed moan as Jeongin kissed the back of your neck, his hands spreading your butt cheeks to expose your heat to him clearly.

"God, you're such a dirty girl for me, you know?" He smirked, pressing himself up against you. "I really do love the taste of you right now, princess. Don't even bother dressing up, you look great like this...naked as you bake for me."

You whined and twisted your neck to look at him, pouting. Your boyfriend had gotten dressed way before you, and his costume was impeccably high-end, having borrowed it from an actual film studio. The party wasn't for hours, but you imagined he wanted to live in this fantasy for as long as he could.

You tried your best to focus on the pumpkin cupcakes you were making, your hand shivering. However it was proving to be extremely different, especially when Jeongin slid a finger inside, groaning at the feeling of your tight walls clenching around it.

"Fuck baby, I could take you right here and now.."

You struggled to formulate sentences as he pumped the lone finger in and out of you. "No..." you whimpered. "I have to finish these cupcakes for the party or Felix will kill me-"

"You can continue baking." He mumbled, and you heard a zipper being undone. A second later, his swollen head was pressed against your entrance teasingly, causing you to let out a sound halfway between a groan and whine.

Unable to deny him when he was so tantalizingly close, you nodded, hearing him breathe a sigh of relief as he pushed in all of a sudden, jolting you against the counter.

"Fuck-" You cried out, your hands gripping the edge as you dropped the spoon. There wasn't a point in trying, you'd just mess it up anyway. As if you could focus on something so mundane when your boyfriend was filling you up so deliciously.

He grinned as he saw you give up, pulling you out and lifting you up onto the counter just to slide back in.

You looked down at him and inhaled, panting as he fucked into you. Reaching a hand up, you gripped his horns for support, causing him to raise his eyebrows.

"Cute little girl, getting fucked by a demon. Bet you love this, my little slut.'

"I...do..." You glanced at your abandoned cupcakes momentarily, a tiny flash of guilt in your stomach.

Noticing your gaze, he gripped your chin and made you face him again,

"Oh, fuck the cupcakes. I'm sure you taste better than them anyway..." He kissed you full on the lips, bucking his hips intermittently. "God I fucking love Halloween..."

note: yeah this is kinda late. enjoy, tho <3