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#this ended up being 1k words somehow
miralines · 2 years
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actually I also want to talk about the mechs’ approaches to the concept of good and evil and why literally none of them are anywhere near good
under the cut because it got so so long
I truly believe there was a point in Jonny’s life when he wanted to be good. That time was a decade past even by the time he met Carmilla. I think Jonny learned pretty early on that good was not an option for him, which soon morphed into a deeply-held belief that good is not something he is capable of. In reaction to this, he leans heavily into being terrible (see Interview Transcript). He believes there are good things and evil things (and plenty of ambiguity as well), and he finds good admirable, if uncommon and more than a little naive, but I think he fundamentally believes that any part of him that might have once been good was broken beyond repair before he became a teenager.
Nastya, on the other hand, views herself as capable of goodness. Sometimes. If she’s lucky and not missing anything and nothing goes wrong (see the storming of the Winter Palace). She even tried, post-mechanization, to continue to be good. But between the events leading up to her death and the unending horrors that followed, she came to the conclusion that good is not worth it. Good gets you hurt or killed or blows up in ways that make things even worse. She keeps to herself, looks out for herself and her own, and will actively hurt anyone else (because given the chance, they’ll almost certainly eventually do the same).
In a similar vein, Ashes probably figured out “good” doesn’t get you anywhere by the time they were eight. Good got you taken advantage of or killed. They do value loyalty-- if you’ve formed a relationship with someone and you value it, you will help them out, or at least not sell them out (cough mickey). This is honestly more pragmatism than anything, though-- they had no issue leaving Daedalus to die, despite having a “deal.” Mostly it applies to people they’re stuck with. Not betraying people makes things much easier when you have to spend a lot of time around those people. Do they care, in some weird way, deep down? Yes. Are they personally hurt by betrayal? Also yes. But for them, it’s the consequence of picking the wrong person to do business with, and bad things happening is as natural a force as stars shining-- including when they’re the person doing the bad things.
I think Ivy actually values good and sees it both as a desirable trait and one she’s capable of. She just has... a really skewed view of what constitutes good. A combination of trauma, personality, and the inevitable corruption of immortality have led her to an extremely utilitarian set of ethics (”for the greater good”). The “greater good” is very often preservation of knowledge, and that comes above everything else-- human life, continued existence of planets, etc. I firmly believe that at least once, the mechs have been on a planet where some authority was trying to destroy Terrible Knowledge before it could make it into the hands of their enemies, and Ivy brought it to those enemies for the sake of keeping it known. This may have led to the destruction of the whole planet, but at least the survivors fleeing from the wreckage still had the records! Ivy’s perspective is so zoomed out that most petty immoral actions (murder, theft, whatever the hell “neuro-arson” is) don’t really register as important one way or another.
Brian. Brian is a master of moral justifications. His two settings correspond to the most extreme possible version of the moral philosophies they represent: EJM Brian might destroy an entire planet to prevent the possibility of an interplanetary epidemic, whereas MJE Brian might give corrupt authorities the information that leads to mass arrests and executions because it would be wrong to lie to them. Also I think he enjoys coming up with these justifications and playing with being the moral equivalent of the monkey’s paw.
As far as the Toy Soldier is concerned, it’s not a person. Good and evil are person things. It’s exempt. I very much read its backstory as it slowly coming to reject humanity and all the things that come with it-- emotion, responsibility, even pronouns that don’t traditionally refer to objects (the latter of which can absolutely be read as voidpunk, but there is certainly room to criticize the other two). TS does what it wants, because it doesn’t see itself as part of the group obligated to follow moral rules.
Tim had a moral compass at one point. Maybe even a decent one. But then the horrors of war, etc. Tim believes and behaves as if all of his goodness died with Bertie. He can do whatever he wants now, because what’s the point?
Raphaella does not believe in good and evil. At best, it’s a nice fairy tale, at the worst, it’s a fiction designed to repress freedom and independence. Like Ivy, Raphaella is driven by knowledge, but where Ivy preserves it, Raphaella discovers it-- at any cost. Nonconsensual human experimentation poses no issue to her, because it will yield knowledge. Of course, being rude or hurtful exists, and doing bad things without sufficient reason may be rude or hurtful, but it’s not evil or wrong. Mostly in those cases the main problem is that other people don’t like it.
I’m going to be honest, I’m still very shaky on my characterization of Marius beyond Funney Man (death of byron von raum WHEN), but at the moment I see his crimes as falling under impulsivity or revenge. He feels like killing someone? Sure. He’s really annoyed at someone so constructs an elaborate plot to drive them to madness? Sounds fun. He might have felt bad about it at one point, but by the time he settles into immortality he cares more about A) whether it made him personally feel better and B) welp, can’t change it anyway. In this way, he can be a bit like Jonny, but while Jonny will do bad things for the sake of doing bad things, Marius most often has at least some reasoning, or something he hopes to gain.
If you’re still here thank you for reading and I’d be very curious to hear other thoughts
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fakeuwus · 3 months
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MANEATER | SIM JAEYUN (M) TEASER
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FULL FIC HERE
PAIRING: virgin!jake x yn (femreader)
SYNOPSIS: in which jake is tired of being a virgin and you're asked to help him out.
WARNINGS: smut so MDNI! virginity loss, oral (m receiving), unprotected sex (be safe out there), creampie, riding, multiple orgasms, etc. words like slut/whore, more to be added
CURRENT WC: 1k, full fic will be less than 10k
TAGLIST: CLOSED.
MESSAGE FROM NIC: first smut kinda nervous... anyways this randomly came to me at like 1 AM and then i couldn't stop typing and here we are 🤠 hope it turns out alright and you guys enjoy it, this is the first piece of writing i've done that doesn't have me wanting to delete it after a couple of paragraphs so yippee!
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“dude no way you fumbled sora. she’s a real slut. i was so sure she would let you hit,” sunghoon says as he’s unwrapping his sandwich then taking a bite. “bro i didn't fumble anything. it's the same shit everytime, once i tell them i'm a virgin they dip,” jake responds while he steals the sandwich and takes a bite for himself.
sunghoon doesn't even argue, his best friend is clearly in distress and is need of some food. “she started ranting about how she doesn't “do” virgins because they get attached and she thinks im gonna become obsessed with her or something.”
“why do you even tell them you’re a virgin in the first place? if that's the issue why even say anything at all?” heeseung questions with a mouth full of the same sandwich that somehow ended up in his hands.
“because if he cums in .2 seconds then the girls are gonna think he’s a bad fuck. theres no winning here.” jake nods in agreement with jay's statement as he watches jay snatch the sandwich from heeseung and finish it off. this is what is so beautiful about their friendship. they share everything with each other, the main things being girls and food. unfortunately for jake, bites of food is all he gets.
but little did jake know that jay was going to find a solution for him real soon.
© fakeuwus 2024 do not repost, translate, or plagiarize
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lovebugism · 7 months
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eddie x shy!reader who has never been kissed before? 🥺
hope u like it :D — you ask eddie why he didn't kiss you last night (shy!fem!r, hurt/comfort, established relationship, 1k)
The night after Steve’s big house party, you wake up on the floor of Eddie’s room. He’d wanted you to take the bed, of course, but you refused to let him sleep alone. The two of you ended up sleeping right next to the mattress, as lovesick as you are stubborn.
His body is warm next to yours — a furnace that warms the quilt under your body and the comforter thrown over you. He’s lying on his stomach with his face shoved into the pillow. Hair wild and mouth open and so, so far away. You feel the distance like a heavy weight on your chest.
Eddie’s breath hitches in his throat when he rouses. His eyes flutter open, and you squeeze yours shut tight. You pretend to be asleep while he stretches his tired limbs. “I know you’re awake, you loon,” he teases through a yawn.
You smile despite yourself, peeking one eye open to find him already looking at you. His curly bangs are frizzed over his forehead. His chocolate button gaze is softly swollen with slumber. He’s sleep-drenched and utterly beautiful.
“No, I’m not,” you insist.
“Oh, yeah?” he huffs and turns onto his side, shifting closer to you. He sighs in contentment when his warm feet entwine with your colder ones. “Sorry, then. Don’t let me disturb your beauty rest, doll.”
He struggles to hold his eyes open, and your tired smile widens. Your hands tremble with the longing to reach for him — to smooth back the curls sticking to his jaw and to cradle his cheek in your palm — but you don’t let yourself. You cage them under your head and crumble beneath the weight of your yearning.
“Do you feel okay?” you ask.
“Yeah,” he answers, slurring slightly as he wakes. “I didn’t drink much ‘cause I knew I had to drive us home.”
He’d partied for an hour or more, soaking in the sunlight of everyone’s drunken attention. You were content just watching him. One painfully awkward exchange on the dancefloor later — involving an almost kiss that ended up as a friendly peck on your cheek — Eddie started to sober up. He scarfed down water and bread and tried to keep a tipsy Robin Buckley from getting into trouble.
“Do you feel okay?” Eddie wonders upon your silence.
“Mhmm.”
“Then what’s this look for, huh?” His hand rises from beneath the blanket and migrates to your face. He runs a gentle finger over the distant frown between your furrowed brows you didn’t realize was there.
“‘Cause you made me sleep on the floor all night,” you tease in a hushed tone.
He scoffs. “I wanted you to take the bed.”
“And Iwanted you to sleep in the bed with me.”
Eddie’s quiet laugh fills the dim bedroom. His crooked smile is quieter. “I just didn’t wanna make you uncomfortable, babe,” he confesses.
“Well, it wouldn’t’ve,” you murmur, gaze averted and half-shut. You busy your fidgeting hand with a rogue thread on the pillow beneath you. You wrap it around your pointer finger until the tip of it blooms a deeper shade.
“Good to know,” he smiles.
“Is that why…” The words get caught in your throat, and you trail off. You don’t bother to finish your sentence. You were barely brave enough to start it, anyway.
“Is that why what?”
You shake your head against the pillow. “Nothing.”
“No, c’mon,” Eddie croons, shifting again until his head’s on the very edge of his pillow, closer now to yours. He flashes you a soft, well-meaning smile. “Finish what you were gonna say…” he lilts quietly.
You swallow hard. “Is that why you didn’t wanna kiss me last night?”
Eddie’s breath catches for a moment. He exhales a forced laugh and musters a wavering smile. “You caught that, huh?”
“Kinda.”
“Sorry…” He doesn’t know what else to say — how to say that he’s head over heels in love with you and that he’s just a total dumbass. It’s somehow easier to apologize for being both.
“It’s no big deal,” you shrug, even though the thought has plagued your mind for nearly twelve hours now. “I just— I wasn’t sure if you, like, never wanted to kiss me ever, you know?”
“I wanna kiss you all the time,” he blurts with a scoffed laugh.
Your brows pinch. Your sheepish eyes flit between both his cinnamon ones. “Then why don’t you?”
“‘Cause I want you to feel comfortable around me,” he shrugs. “And I don’t wanna make you— you know— feel like I only want you around to be all over you all the time.”
You’re made of something softer than that, Eddie figures. You were delicate, like flower petals and early spring. He wants to treat you just as gently. He loves you so hard he’s scared he’ll break you.
“Well, sometimes I want you to be all over me,” you admit in a faint murmur, eyes sparkling and lips quirking.
Eddie grins wide. You have no idea that you’ve just unleashed a pandora’s box of his affection. Now that he’s got your permission to touch you, he’s not sure if he’ll ever stop.
“Noted,” he nods, shifting somehow closer until you’re sharing the same pillow. “What about now then, huh? Want me to be all over you— morning breath and all?”
You peer at him with doe eyes, firm and unblinking. “Want you all the time, Eds.”
“Good.”
He kisses you then, a gentle peck you didn’t know someone as brash as him was capable of. His plush lips press gently against yours, in a fleeting moment you grieve the second he pulls away. 
When he leans softly back to make sure you’re okay — to be certain that you still want more of him — you beat him to the punch. You chase him as he goes, caging his mouth in a deeper kiss that tastes only faintly of sleep. Your exhaled sighs fan together. Your lips click gently when you pull away.
“Woah,” you hear Eddie mumble.
It takes you a moment or more to open your eyes. You don’t realize how utterly dizzy you are until then. “Was that bad?” you murmur, face scrunched with misplaced panic.
Eddie shakes his wild head until the words catch up to him. “No. No, I just… I can’t believe we haven’t been doing this the whole time,” he confesses with a boyish laugh.
Your giggling entwines with his — innocent and pure and golden. He’s kissing the breath from your lungs a second later, with all the intensity of someone making up for lost time.
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sukunasweetheart · 7 months
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fem!reader, heaps of cum, somnophilia, handjob, blowjob, lots of masturbation, its just mindless smut so um... yea.... i need to go to horny jail fr for this one.
word count: 1k
I just need more perv!sukuna man.... fucking pathetic and desperate and horny, i want him with that degenerate behaviour. hes alr a horny ass mf but ohhh my goodness do YOU light a fire in him that nobody else can... You make him question his fucking dignity bc he gets a raging boner every time you do the bare minimum...
Perv!sukuna who needs to take a bathroom break every now and then around you bc his dick just wont stay down - fucking his fist desperately in a toilet stall being as quiet as possible because this is so out of character for his image, he's supposed to be the nonchalant, mean, coldhearted guy!!
Perv!sukuna who shudders from how turned on he is at the simplest things you might do, like when you bump into him on accident and the scent of your perfume hits his nose like an aphrodisiac, he wants to bury his face against the crook of your neck and inhale deeply - let the smell of you reach deep into his lungs. he wants to run his tongue across your skin so he can check if you taste as good as you smell.
Perv!sukuna who eventually makes his moves on you slowly... but its really difficult when every little kiss makes all the blood rush to his cock. He drops you off to your house after a date, and he makes out with you a little bit in his car before you have to leave, and there, he's sitting in the driver's seat with a tent in his pants. He waits until the window to your room lights up, and begins to stroke himself while thinking about how're you're probably stripping in your bedroom right now, to change your clothes. and speaking of clothes....
Perv!sukuna who likes to bring any of your scented clothes against his nose and jack off vigorously, unable to get enough of it. eyes rolling back when that orgasm hits him while every breath he takes in has your smell embedded in it.
Perv!sukuna who somehow manages to snatch up one of your panties one day and jerks himself off with it... he didn't want to cum directly on it yet, but he couldn't help himself and soiled it so quickly. he'll need to wash it now, and your scent's gonna be lost. if that's the case, he'll just use it a few more times to get himself off. (by the end of it, he's ruined it beyond washing with his seed by going a bit overboard...)
Perv!sukuna who starts nosebleeding the first time he actually gets to wet his dick with your pussy. You were mortified when drops of blood started running down from his nose once his cock was inside you. He wipes it away with tissues from your bedside and insists hes fine with a wolfish grin... he's just overtly aroused. that night, he wound up using a whole box of condoms from just your cunt alone. milked completely. so satiated. at one point, he had forgotten to change condoms after cumming once and blew a couple of loads into the same one, making you balloon up a bit.
Perv!sukuna who has a libido of an endless pit, he can stay hard and just cum over and over and over again... could stuff you so full you'll be pushing his seed out of yourself for literal days after having sex with him, once you're on the pill. he's just dumped his seed into you but his hips are still thrusting, cock heavy and ready to give you another one without pulling out once.
Perv!sukuna who is obsessed with any and every part of your body. the way he gropes your tits, ass, thighs, hips, etc. resembles a perverted old man - those grabby hands are always finding a way to squish your flesh whatever chance he gets. those large, searing and calloused hands are constantly gliding across your skin, making you wet your panties without failing all the damn time. his arms snake under your clothes very sneakily. you can push him away and verbally chastise him all you want, but you can't hide how much you enjoy all of it...
Perv!sukuna who becomes relentless with somnophilia once you give him the consent-- it starts off with just pathetic and desperate dry humping, but soon you'll be waking up with his dick anywhere on the surface of your skin or inside you, and you're greeted with a 'good morning' that's riddled with a deep groan, followed by ropes of his hot cum spilling in or onto you.
Perv!sukuna who just HAS to drag you to somewhere like the public toilets, in order to get you to suck him off or stroke him or SOMETHING bc his boner is getting too painful (you caressed his thigh). you always opt for jerking him off when you're outside, because things tend to get too messy when you let him in. he has no self control smh... now he's fucking YOUR fist in a stall, panting in your ear and saying things like "fuck, yes, baby... squeeze me more- fuu-ck," before painting the toilet with spurts of his cum. you grip firmly onto the base of his dick and he almost buckles over from the pleasure. you feel his pulsating cock in your hand and bite your lip hard.
Perv!sukuna who gets an oral fixation after you gave him head once. things get difficult for you. those pretty lips wrapped around his erection makes him absolutely feral. now he's thrusting in and out of your throat mumbling "fuck- i can't- help myself-" because you're tightening up on him so nicely and it feels too good. releases straight inside with your nose pressed onto his pubic bone, hips jerking as you feel the spurts hit the back of your throat and seep down to your stomach. his eyes half-lidded, high from the pleasure.
sukuna might be the greatest pervert of all time, but what does it say about you when you stay with him regardless? you enjoy being his live fuck toy. thankfully, he gives you great aftercare and spoils you silly behind the scenes. (i wasnt bothered to write the romance aspects so please imagine it yourselves <3) the way i wanted to add MORE but refrained bc it would get a bit too repetitive :)
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meowpupp · 6 months
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as a thank you for hitting 1k followers, and an apology for my absence, I would like to share my take on poly!141.
poly141! x recruit!reader. 1.5k words. mentions of sex, although no smut. yet.
you're a sweet little thing. smart as a whip, nerdy, and confident. having spent most of your post highschool graduate years studying, youve acquired numerous impressive qualifications. while most people your age in university were out partying, getting blind drunk, hooking up, you were studying.
a tech genius. that's what laswell had sold you as to price. he had been hesitant to allow any new members at all, especially ones so young. and yet, taskforce 141 sees two new additions. the newest little tech genius who's climbing quickly through the ranks, and another soldier. someone by the name of roach.
at first, you weren't amused. as a woman in the military, your life was already difficult enough. being assigned to an all male taskforce felt like your worst nightmare. but after some convincing from laswell, and realizing this would be the fastest way to make a name for yourself, you sign the papers.
your first week is smooth, albeit awkward. you and the other new recruit, roach, get along fairly well. he's funny, a little dorky, but obviously skilled. he isn't as intimidating as the others, being almost as young as you. you find yourself gravitating to him often, often staying up late together, eating meals together, and even training together. you make quick friends.
and so, it's only natural that you both end up becoming… closer. late night talks turn into makeouts, and makeouts turn into grinding. it's somewhat clumsy however… as if the two of you can quite place the power dynamics.
the others, however, are much more of a challenge to get along with. you're cautious, aware these men have been in this business much longer than you. the four of them- price, ghost, gaz, and soap- are a power unit. it takes weeks for you to find your place within the team.
price tries to be welcoming, although it doesn't quite work. there's this sense of authority and power around him that makes you feel small, almost submissive. his gruff voice sends shivers down your spine each time he speaks over comms, panties growing wet each time he gives you a direct order.
it's almost as if he knows, whispering your name rather than your military nickname. his voice sounds almost seductive. it makes you feel like a pervert, imagining him growling in your ear each time you get off.
price has a way of always remaining in control and not just with you. the power dynamics within the task force are subtle yet well established. there seems to be a chain of command that follows their ranks. price on top, then ghost, then gaz and soap. you notice how they all drop casual innuendos, their affection for each other, corssing over the boundary of just friendliness.
ghost barely looks, let alone, speaks to you for the first month. you're unsure if he even likes you. on the field, he's sharp and alert. you occasionally hear him share banter with the others, but never feel brave enough to join in. the man is intimidating, almost three times your size, a quiet sort of confidence and dominance that follows him around. he's the one you train with most often.
ghost is ruthless. he slams you into the matt, somehow always ending up between your thighs, his big hands holding them apart and pinning you down. you can't help but memorise the sight. your Lieutenant, panting, slightly sweat as he holding you in such a lewd position, glaring down at you.
it's your favourite fantasy to think about late at night as you touch yourself, unaware that the walls are so thin that ghost himself hears you whimper his name. he strokes himself in time with the slick noises of your cunt, imagining how desperate you must look.
gaz isn't intimidating, per say. he isn't distant like ghost or unapproachable like price. the man has such a casual confidence and arrogance around him. he's the first to speak to you, ask you about yourself. throughout your career, you've met many military soldiers. most the men fit into two categories, misogynistic dicks who don't believe you have a place within the ranks, or disgusting perverts who want a quick fuck (most of them have wives, even kids.) but gaz is refreshing. he fits into neither.
he often starts conversations with you. asking questions and truly listening as you speak. little do you know he records each one, saving them for when he's alone late at night. something about the way you speak, your tone, the quiet rasp or accent, it makes him stupidly hard. he's not above recording you while you workout, standing just close enough to capture each huff and grunt as you lift. it's those recordings that get him off the quickest, wondering how whiny youd sound if he held a vibrator to your clit, didnt let up until you were crying and covered in slick.
and soap. the man is difficult for you to read. your first impression is that he's one of those men who fit into the ‘misogynistic asshole’ category. apart from your initial meeting, he practically ignores you.
you can tell its not deliberate. he just seems more immersed in the natural, pre-established dynamic of the taskforce. the one that doesn't include you. it takes a while, but after a month or two, your interactions become more common.
he turns out to be very respectful- even helpful. due to your background in tech, you skipped a few ranks when you joined. soap helps you in the shooting range. standing behind you, body pressing into yours from behind, correcting your posture before you fire.
you even create games with each other. he gives you little quizzes. theyre normally about gun components, military jargon, or even field upgrades. with each quiz he promises a ‘reward.’
its embarrassing whenever you blush and grow wet when he says it. the rough growl of his voice, combined with the accent he has, all makes you dizzy. you don't even notice how he plays it up, practically purring out the word, smirking as you squirm, making sure to graze his fingertips over your hot skin.
it's obvious that after a month or two, that roach is significantly more acclimated than you. it feels unfair. your relationship with each member is steadily growing, yet something about how roach interacts with them is so different. it's like you're missing a puzzle piece.
it isn't until one night when you're venting your frustration that roach reveals the reason he's clicked with them so quickly.
“It's like an initiation,” he smirks, eyes flicking away from you, “think of it kind of like…. hazing.” his eyes are almost predatory as he meets yours again, so unlike the goofy persona he usually has, “if you like, I could speak to price. they have started to discuss inviting you in.”
it's as if everything made sense now. it wasn't your fault. it was another case of discrimination, you being left out because you didn't fit into their stupid boys club.
ever since that conversation with roach, you have become frustrated, irritable, and short with them all. you fulfilled all your required tasks but refused to engage with them any further. denying invites to the pub, ignoring gaz when he tried to speak, training alone, no longer asking soap for help.
after about a week of this, price calls you to his office.
a sick sense of unease and anxiety settles in your gut. the man is so intimidating, and this surely wasn't a positive meeting. you've never been in a position like this. all throughout school, you were a grade A student, and within your years in the military, you've always maintained basic respect and politeness. you've never been in trouble with a CO.
when you step into his office, however, all your expectations are subverted. price sits at his desk, smoking a cigar. roach leans against it next to him. the two of them are speaking lowly.
price notices you first. his eyes carry an emotion you haven't seen before. lust. he's staring at you as if you're some sort of prey. with a smirk, he blows out a large puff of smoke. it curls around him, only making him more intimidating.
“if you were feeling excluded, sweetheart, you should've made me aware.” he leans back in his chair. suddenly, the room feels so small, your body getting hot, “id be more than happy to include you.”
roach walks towards you, guiding you further into the office. he doesn't let you sit, however, instead standing behind you, hands groping your hips. his fingertips slip under your shirt, brushing the sensitive skin of your stomach.
he kisses your neck, “price wants to see how pretty you are,” his hands slide further up, taking your shirt off, “let's give him a show, yeah?”
cont.
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moonstruckme · 3 months
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Haloooo!!! I wanted to request something but I jus wanna say how much i adore your workkksss😭 not to shade other writers but youre probably my fave out of them, theres just something about your writings thats so comforting and I love it!! Can I request a academic rival trope for Remus and reader??🥹 Im excited to read it!! Thank you!!🫶
I'm so glad you enjoy them my love!! Thank you for requesting <3
cw: mention of skipping meals (never fear it is remedied)
Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 1k words
Remus is the only other person in the library. You���ve been hopelessly aware of him since he’d sat down four tables away from you an hour ago, and you’re positive he’s being distracting on purpose, because no one really eats chocolate like that. 
It’s abominable and should be punishable by death, honestly, the way he’s getting brown smudges all over the pages of his book. He’ll pop a chocolate in his mouth, let it get all melty in there, then slowly suck the remnants off each of his fingers, the movement distracted and tantalizing. Brow furrowed and eyes sharp, he looks entirely absorbed by his studies. 
You wish you could say the same. 
You’ve read the same page four times now, and the information keeps bouncing off your brain like someone’s put an invisible shield around it. Your eyes burn slightly, your back aches from too long spent in this wooden chair, but you need to know this stuff by tomorrow. Somehow, you need to make yourself retain it. 
“Do you mind?” 
You stop tapping the end of your pencil on the table, looking over at Remus. Your eyes narrow on instinct. 
“Do you?” 
He raises a brow. “I’m not doing anything.” 
“Yes, you are. You keep smacking your lips, it’s irritating.” It’s not, really, it’s…it’s something else. It’s not conducive to a distraction-free study environment, that’s what it is. “Are you even allowed to have those in here?” 
Remus sighs heavily. “Alright.” 
Before you can figure out what he means by that, he’s pushing back his chair, walking over to join you at your table. He holds your gaze as he sits down and then pushes his chocolates towards you, seemingly expectant. 
“What are you doing?” 
“You’re clearly jealous. Go on, have a few.” 
“I am not jealous.” You glare at him, arms folding over your book. It’s a habit, to hide the answers from him, but when you notice his gaze drop to the protective motion you feel silly. “And I’m not eating those. You’ve been licking your fingers and reaching in there, it’s gross.” 
“Oh.” Remus retreats slightly, cheeks pinkening. “I didn’t realize I was, sorry.” 
It’s gratifying to see him embarrassed. He’s the shyest of his group of friends (which is to say, he won’t automatically go and talk the ear off anyone within ten yards of him), but he goes about his day with their same unshakeable confidence, earned by social status and, admittedly, an intimidating academic prowess. Though you’ve always met each other head on in class, you’ve never felt up to par with him in any other respect. It’s nice to feel on a similar playing field. A bit endearing to see this tentative, boyish side to him, too. 
It doesn’t last long enough. 
There’s the barest shift in his expression, but you note with dread that familiar twinkle in Remus’ eyes. “Seems like you’ve been paying more attention to me than your book, hm?” 
Yup, the endearment is gone. 
“I’m basically done studying for the night anyway,” you lie through your teeth. “I was just finishing up.” 
Remus’ brow lifts. He clearly doesn’t believe you. “Good for you. How long have you been here?” 
“Since five.” It’s the truth this time, and you say it proudly. You want to show him that you work harder than him, are better, but your smugness fizzles out when he frowns. 
“That long?” Remus asks, looking less defeated and more…troubled. “You must be exhausted. I was only going to put a couple of hours in.” 
It nettles you, the implication that he can do better than you by studying half the time. You shrug with feigned insouciance. “I guess we’ll see who does better tomorrow.” 
“Did you miss dinner?” He breezes right by the challenge, leaning forward as his brows come down. “You must have taken a break then.” 
You cross your arms, appraising him as he does you. What is he playing at? 
“I don’t take breaks, Remus.” I work hard. I play to win. 
Remus hums, eyes still on you. It’s a struggle not to squirm under his gaze. After a minute, he sighs. 
“Okay,” he says, starting to pack up his things. He puts his chocolates back in his bag. “I would offer you some of these, but you’ve made your thoughts about that known. I guess all that’s left is to go to the kitchens.” 
You look up at him as he stands. “What are you talking about?”
“You can’t just not eat before the exam, love. It wouldn’t be fair.” 
“To who?” 
“To either of us. You need to do well, and I need to know you can do well so that I do well.” He leans against the table, a soft curve to his bottom lip. Like you’re friends. “Come on, grab your things.” 
“I can’t just—” You shake your head incredulously. “I still have to study.” 
“I thought you were done studying.” 
“I—not—not all the way done,” you hedge, cheeks warming. Remus smiles like you’re funny. 
“Let’s be done for tonight,” he says in a gentle tone. It’s not so different from his usual voice, and yet the sound of it caresses your nerves, lulling them to rest. “There’ll be time before the exam tomorrow. You’ve put in plenty of hours already, and those won’t do you any good without food and sleep.” 
You bite the inside of your lip, considering this. Though you’ve tried to ignore it, you are tired. The bone-deep, heavy kind, from a week of exams that have left you nearly in tatters. You’re afraid that if you take to your bed now, getting out again may seem more trouble than it’s worth. 
“And,” Remus adds offhandedly, “if beating my score is your goal, I like your odds. You’ve been studying all night, and I hardly opened my book a half hour ago.” 
You blink up at him. Remus seems to realize you’re not going to start packing up yourself and, with a long-suffering sigh, begins doing it for you. “Why aren’t you staying to study?” you ask. 
He shrugs. “I don’t mind going to the kitchens with you. And would you really go if I stayed here and studied?” 
“No,” you answer honestly. 
He gives you a wry, knowing look. “Then I suppose it’s a small price to pay.”
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leilanihours · 2 months
Note
"I like your hand in mine, but I think it would look even better if it was wrapped around my throat " - I forgot what number prompt it was lol but could you do this smut with Nika Mühl congratulations on 1K queen
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# SHE'S GOT MY ATTENTION, SHE'S CONFIDENT
pairing: nika muhl x bartender!reader
word count: 812
warnings: smut (MDNI), head (reader receiving), mentions of self-pleasure (nika's)
prompt: "i like your hand in mine but i think it would look even better if it was wrapped around my throat"
⭑ from lani: first smut of the celly 😜 WATCH THIS TIKTOK FOR BETTER UNDERSTANDING OF THE SHOT TRICK
celly masterlist !
main masterlist !
"WRAP YOUR LIPS around the bottle, put your hands on my head, and then just follow my lead, okay, babe?" you explain to the brunette in front of you.
nika bites her lip and nods as her friends are hyping her up from their respective seats. she blushes at your use of the nickname, hoping that it goes unnoticed by you.
you smirk at the power you have over the girl, wanting to tease her a little bit more. you notice the amount of distance between you two, disapprovingly shaking your head, "c'mere, don't be shy."
nika's eyes slightly widen as you pull her closer to you by placing your hand on her hip. you're only inches apart now, you could practically feel her heart beating against your own.
"okay, i'm ready," she affirms. she towers over you due to her height, but it's obvious that she needs a little confidence boost. you're banking on this shot to do so.
you twist open the lid of the small bottle, placing the base of it in your mouth as you tilt your head back, waiting for nika to come up behind you.
she follows your previous instructions, placing her lips on the rim of the bottle and gently placing her cold hands on either side of your face.
you take this as a sign to go, so you swiftly place your own hands on her jawline and spin your head so that you could flip the bottle of liquor to deliver the shot. nika flips along with you, her head now being the one that's tilted back.
you remove your mouth from the bottle quickly as nika downs the shot, feeling the burning liquid flow down her throat.
you lick you lips at the sight, not even realizing that your hands had drifted down to her waist, bracing the girl in support.
once she's standing upright, you take one of your hands and grab hers, lifting it in the air as the room fills with cheers.
you're both laughing when the exchange is finished, hands still intertwined. but the second your eyes meet, the room stills.
there's nothing but pure lust and desire lingering between the two of you - it's almost painful. there was no denying that nika was gorgeously sexy, it was one of the main reasons you were so eager to perform the shot with her.
after being so close to each other, it was insanely hard to back away. it was like you two were drawn to each other with an unbeatable magnetic force.
you can't help yourself when you whisper in her ear, "look, i like your hand in mine, but i think i'd like it better if it was wrapped around my throat."
nika's demeanor changes entirely, the atmosphere (and probably the shot she just took) giving her a newfound confidence, "when does your shift end?"
"baby, i run this place, it ends whenever i want it to," you smirk.
she bites her lip as she quickly pulls you into one of the bathrooms, instantly shoving you against the door and smashing her lips onto yours.
you moan at the feeling as it goes straight to your pussy, dripping into your underwear. it doesn't help when the brunette actually listens to your words from earlier and slyly wraps her hand around the base of your neck.
she squeezes gently, pressing you tighter against the door. her knee somehow ended up between your legs, pushing up against your clit.
"fuck, i can feel you dripping on me already," she groans as she begins to kiss down your neck and cleavage.
"yeah? you wanna fuck me now or what?"
"i'm getting there, baby, no need for the attitude," she shakes her head, peering down at you before lowering to her knees.
she unbuttons the denim shorts you had on, slowly pulling them down as her nails and rings trail red marks on your skin.
she begins to place teasingly light kisses on your thighs, working her way closer to your clothed pussy. you whine at her pace, ready to complain before she has you stepping out of your soaked underwear.
"mmm, who got you this wet?" she mumbles, thumb teasing your clit.
"you, nika- fuck," you sigh once you feel her tongue run through your slit.
soon enough, she's rubbing tight circles around your bud and fucking into your hole with her experienced tongue.
you find yourself grinding against her face, chasing down your climax. you look down at the girl, only to find her toying with her nipples underneath her shirt with her free hand.
the sight pushes you further to the edge, and with a few more laps of her tongue, you're coming undone with your legs shaking.
"holy shit," you pant out of breath.
she laughs at your fucked-out state, "yeah, you're definitely coming home with me."
— leilani signing off ! 📁
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Dinner Time
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Summary: Reader makes Spencer his first homemade dinner after getting out of prison, and they both realize he's got some adjusting to do.
Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader
Category: Hurt/Comfort
Content warnings: Eating, mentions of weight loss, hurt Spencer, ambiguous ending
Word count: 1k
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Spencer sat at the small table in your kitchen. You set it up with funky-patterned napkins, an extra big spoon, and a used candle lit in the middle; the whole shebang. You prepared his serving of your vegetable soup, the meal he requested to celebrate his arrival home. “Are you comfortable?” You ask as you hover over the stove.
He nods and picks up his napkin, observing the pattern and weight. “Where did you get these?”
“Your mom found them when we were shopping. She said they reminded her of your socks. Isn’t that sweet?”
He blew air through his nose before saying “Wow.” He rubbed his thumb along it, following the vivid stripes. You didn’t want to tell him how she teared up when she spotted them. How she held the set close to her chest made you feel sorry that she remembered without help.
“She took it as a sign you were coming home.” Half true. More like you convinced her it was. She asked you to buy them for that reason, to celebrate. “And now here we are.” You beamed as you say the words.
“That’s wonderful.” He looked up at you and smiled. You saw it in your peripheral as you opened a pack of oyster crackers. You knew he wanted to thank you for making time for her. He wanted to, but you insisted the thank yous were enough after he said it the fifth time in 24 hours. You flashed him a brief grin as a muted response, and he appreciated it.
“Alright,” You held the bowl carefully, mistakenly filling it to the brim. Due to the sheer joy of having him home, safe, and innocent (in the eyes of the law), you almost didn’t notice he had lost weight. The first time you saw his spine after getting out of the shower, you didn't even think it was possible for him. “Extra potatoes, per your request, mon amour.” You emphasize your terrible French accent which makes him chuckle.
“Merci, mon amour.” His flawless accent almost ruined the joke.
“Okay, show off, so happy you're home.” You sneered, and his smile was even wider. You grab your own bowl and sit by his side. His elbows somehow naturally find their way to the table, boxing in his soup like he was cornering prey. Spoon in hand, he dipped in the hefty bowl. Then he shoveled in some of those extra potato chunks with some tomato-y broth. Hungry, you thought, as he leaned over the bowl, steam gliding over his rough stubble. He took a second and third bite, despite his mouth being nearly stuffed.
You didn’t say anything at first. You didn’t want to imagine the food he had to eat or meals he might have skipped because of poor quality (or other reasons). As he chewed hastily, for a moment, it gave you hope he'd gain weight quickly.
But then he reached out for his water to drink like he needed to soothe something too spicy.
Or something too hot.
“Honey?”
Bite four, five, and six. He chewed.
“Spencer.”
“Hm?” Bite seven, eight —
You put a hand on his arm and Spencer’s head immediately turned to you. It made you pull back, not touch him. His face was red and his mouth hung open, similar to a dog sticking its tongue out to cool off. “Spencer. You can let it cool.”
He swallowed, not chewing enough, and it pained him. “I can’t. I want to finish before bed.” His tongue barely touched the roof of his mouth as he spoke.
“Are you that tired?”
“No.” His eyebrows furrowed at the question, looking just as confused as you. “We only have 30 minutes for dinn—” And somehow his face of realization was even more upsetting to witness. There's a silence, brief but heavy as his whole face fell and he covered his eyes with one hand. “I’m sorry.” He sniffles.
“It’s not your fault.”
"I'll… take my time." He leans on his elbow and looks down at his meal, staring, waiting for the steam to stop. It was seconds later that his eyes were lined with tears again.
You were afraid to ask the question. “How’s your mouth?”
“It hurts.” He bites his lip as tears trickle.
You drop your spoon and scoot your chair closer to his. You ask him to sit up straight and drink water. Once he’s done that, drinking as much (or as little) as he can tolerate, you gently press his face into your shoulder. Tears collect on your skin, but you keep him close and encourage him to let it out.
And he does. His chest caves with every sob he's locked away for two months. His arms wrap around your waist, the first time he's touched you since he’s been home, apart from the delightfully suffocating hug you trapped each other in when he was released. And for a moment, you’re hit with the reality that the Spencer you’re holding has changed. His survival instincts are still active, you're just now noticing it.
You still hold him as he heaves. You rub his back to let him know you’re still here, but you stare at the blank wall in front of you. Your head is spinning, running through therapists to call and books to read that could help you. To help Spencer. Because that’s what he needs.
Spencer pulls away for a minute to look over his soup.
“It’s still there.” You say, and wipe his tears with your thumbs. “No one’s taking it, I promise.”
“It’s going to get cold.”
“I’ll heat it up again, don’t worry.”
Spencer looks down at you as you hold his face. The dark circles around his reddened eyes were prominent, and you brushed the mess of curls off his forehead. Tiredness isn’t enough. He’s scared. From what he’s seen or become, you don’t know. But his stubble pokes your skin and you realize that you don’t know what to do. As you look at the man you love, you wonder how much you can do to help. You hope you can help.
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idleoblivion · 4 months
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"You Don't Want to See Me Like This" - Vil Schoenheit x GN Reader
Synopsis: You were spiraling and you knew it, skipping classes, not taking care of yourself and ignoring your friends in favor of rotting in bed. You didn’t want anybody to see you in this state, least of all your perfect boyfriend.
Word Count: ~1k
A/N: Crazy how fast I go from writing smut to comfort fics lol. First time writing Vil sorry if he's ooc.
Warnings: Vague description of poor mental health, he comforts you
The first knocks on your door you ignore entirely, not moving an inch from your position curled up under your blankets. The second time, you do move, but only to check your phone for any messages from Ace or Deuce saying they were coming. They had been the most adamant about trying to reach you, with Ace sending you sarcastic messages and memes to get your attention while Deuce opted for more genuine “Hey, it’s been a minute, you alright?” and “I hope you feel better soon!” texts. You loved them, truly you did, but you were in no mood to talk to them. You couldn’t remember how many days it’s been since you’ve seen them in person.
The third knocks are louder and impatient. You sigh and close your eyes again. As you're preparing to reach for the earbuds on your nightstand to tune them out, the voice you hear from the other side of the door stops you in your tracks.
“I know you can hear me, potato. And you know I don’t appreciate being ignored.”
Your eyes shoot open again. You weren’t expecting him at all.
It’s not like you thought Vil wouldn’t notice. He was always very attuned to what you were feeling, it was something you loved about him. Somehow you had gotten lucky, with his schedule apparently being even busier than usual you had managed to evade him. But he was here now, and clearly not happy. You know he cares dearly for you, but still you didn’t know how to talk to him about everything going on in your head right now. Not when he seemed to handle every problem he had with ease, while you were just wallowing in your misery. Not when he was this emblem of beauty and grace, not when he wouldn’t be caught dead looking like you did right now.
You sit up and turn your head to look at yourself in the mirror. You haven’t showered or brushed your hair and it shows. The circles under your eyes are darker than you’ve ever seen them. You had been completely neglecting the skin care routine Vil picked out especially for you for several days, and you were sure he would be able to tell.
“Vil…I’m alright, I just don’t feel well. I’m tired, and I’m trying to rest.”
“According to your friends, it’s been nearly two weeks that you haven��t been feeling well. Either you’re lying to me, or you need to go to the infirmary this instant.” You could picture the frown on his face and crease in his brow just from his tone.
You don’t answer him. You silently curse Ace and Deuce for getting him involved, wishing your bed would just swallow you whole so you could avoid this conversation. He stays quiet too for a moment. You hear him sigh before he continues.
“I…I’m not trying to patronize you. Please just let me in, I need to see you.” His voice turns almost pleading at the end, surprising you. He never pleaded or begged for anything.
“You don’t want to see me like this, Vil.” Your resolve was weakening hearing how worried he actually sounded, but you were still so ashamed of your current appearance. What would he think if he saw you? Would he feel pity, maybe even disgust? You didn’t want either of those reactions from him.
“You can’t say that. You can’t tell me how or when I want to see you.”
Another minute or two of silence passes, and you realize he really isn’t going anywhere. You drag yourself up out of bed and to your door and hesitantly unlock it. You walk back to your bed and plop down again before saying “Come in.”
He opens the door gently, eyes immediately fixated on you. He takes in your disheveled self and looks around your room for a moment too. You hadn’t even realized how messy it was until he was looking around, laundry and other junk left lying out in the open. Another wave of shame washed over you.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry-” You start to choke up as you put your head in your hands, but he interrupts you.
“No, I’m sorry. I’m the one who needs to apologize.” You look back up at him confused. He’s looking at you, but you don’t feel the judgment in his gaze you were anticipating. He’s looking at you gently, fondly even, and that alone nearly makes you cry.
“I’ve been preoccupied with the production the Film Studies club is working on, and I seem to have neglected something much more important." He approaches you and offers you his hand, which you take. He holds your hand tenderly and continues. “It’s my duty to notice things like this, and I’ve let this go on too long already. What can I do for you, love? What can I do to help?”
The tears that had been welling up finally start falling, and he brings his other hand to cradle your face lovingly. You stay like that together for a few moments, with you crying and him just holding you.
Through sniffles, you tell him “I don’t know. I want to feel better, but I don’t, I don’t know I just-” you cut yourself off with another sob. He nods his head like he understands. He seems to stop and process an idea before he stands up.
“Well, looking better may help you feel better. Come with me, back to Pomefiore. Bring some pajamas, we’ll run you a bath and have a self care night together. I’ve got some new products I’ve been wanting to test that we can try out.” He smiles at you and beckons for you to stand with him. You do, and nod at him as you try to calm yourself down more. “Y-yeah, that might be nice.” You hold your arms out, asking for a hug and he obliges immediately. 
He holds you tightly before speaking to you softly. “You don’t need to keep things from me, you know. I’d much rather hear about how you’re doing from you than those other potatoes.” You let out a small laugh, which makes him grin. “Can you promise you’ll come to me next time?”
“Okay, I promise. Especially if it gets you to spoil me like this.”
“It’s not spoiling, love. It’s just what you deserve.” He kisses your forehead before you walk out of your room together, still holding his hand.
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highvern · 7 months
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Work Me Out II
Pairing: Kim Mingyu x fem!reader
Genre: Smut, 18+
Warnings: simp gyu, car sex, protected sex, dom!gyu, brat!reader, spitting, choking, minor cock warming
Length: 2.5k
Note: happy 1k! i almost deleted this bc i hated it so y'all have to be extra nice to me about it (im joking) (not really) everyone say thank u @cheolism for beta-ing!
Remember: Tumblr runs on reblogs and I run on validation in the tags and comments :)
read part I
read more here
This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked!
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“Hi!” 
“Hi,” Mingyu grins, dropping a kiss to your cheek before stepping back. “You look…”
He lifts your hand, encouraging a spin so he can fully appreciate the black slip dress gliding over your curves.
“Wow.”
“Wow?” You laugh as he pulls you closer, goosebumps rising under the palm at your bare spine.
“Beautiful,” he sighs into your lips. 
He kisses you deeper; crowing you against his chest with a hand at your back. The lull of Mingyu’s lips and cologne lower your defenses, mouth opening to welcome his tongue. But he pulls away just when things breach on the edge of more.
“We’re gonna miss our reservation.” He coos through a smile, dropping a consolatory peck to your nose.
“So?”
You try to bring him back but he dodges you easily, tipping his chin up until your only option is to leave a trail of kisses along his Adam's apple.
“I’d like to take you on at least one real date.” Mingyu argues.
He’d be more convincing if he wasn’t leaving fingerprints on your hips. But you think it's cute how he wants to wine and dine you. When you step back, you notice how his eyes glow the way they always do when met with approval. It’s cute, toes on the border of innocence; and it makes your knees crave the feeling of the hardwood floors so you can give him all the validation he can handle with his cock in your mouth.
But there will be more than enough time for that later.
“Wow, so eating Captain Crunch in our underwear after you defiled me wasn’t a date?” You gasp. “Okay. I see how it is.”
Mingyu snorts but plucks your jacket off the coat rack and holds it open to help you in. “Alright, drama queen. Let’s go.”
The drive is filled with chatter. Over the past week, the initial spark of attraction only grew between you; through chats at the gym, texting, or the one night he came to your apartment and ended up passing out on the couch while the movie continued to play in the background. Somehow it was more intimate waking up fully clothed, big spooning him with your face buried between his shoulder blades than having him drill your guts until tears streaked your face.
Since you slept over that first night, you’ve noticed a plethora of things that make you more fond of Mingyu. How he slurs his words when he’s excited, talking so fast you can barely decipher what he’s saying. If you throw a wink his way while walking across the gym his eyes go wide like he’s completely taken aback by your interest; as if he didn’t have a front seat to how much you liked him. Or if he notices you looking he’ll not so subtly flex or make a face that has you laughing so hard you nearly tumble off the treadmill. Or the way Mingyu prides himself on being a gentleman; pausing his workout and walking you to your car, insisting it's too dark out for him to be comfortable letting you go alone (partially because it's his fault your gym visits became a two hour endeavor since the night in the car, he just can’t stop distracting you in the name of getting to know you better).
It’s the same at the restaurant. Mingyu takes your coat and pulls out your chair. He asks for more details on the book you mentioned on the way over, asking if he can borrow your copy once you finish. He feeds you some of his entree off his fork, splits dessert to satisfy your sweet tooth, and nabs the check from the waiter before you can even think of offering to split the bill.
It’s almost too perfect; like he is running a checklist in his head. But Mingyu isn’t that kind of guy. His enthusiasm is just that, enthusiasm for spending time with you, getting to know you, picking your brain like you’re the most interesting person he’s ever met and he can’t wait to know more.
“How did you not know it was a couples class?” You ask, laughing into the curve of his arm as he walks you back to the car.
“It didn’t say it on the flier! It just said ‘portions for two’ and I thought that meant I’d leave with leftovers.”
“Wow. So Wonwoo got you banned and ate your food?”
“Wonwoo got me banned and neither of us gotta eat the food.”
The collar of Mingyu’s shirt flitters when his chest shakes with laughter, watching you down the slope of his nose. Like a flame in a vacuum, all the oxygen in your lungs is sucked up when you notice how good he looks even under the sterile overhead light. The glass of wine you sipped through dinner doesn’t help; turning your insides to mush and your blood to a boil.
Mingyu is so genuinely sweet you almost feel guilty for crowding him against his car and palming the zipper of his jeans. The taste of whiskey clings to his tongue, sucked away by your own until he opens the door and ushers you into the back seat.
“Mingyu,” you gasp, plucking the foil package from his grip. “Did you expect to fuck me tonight?”
“No,” he groans into the side of your tit, thanking whatever power in the universe exists that you hadn’t worn a bra. “But a man should always be prepared.”
You snort, “Okay, ‘Mr. I don’t sleep with girls I don’t date.’”
“I think that's former ‘Mr. I don’t’ whatever the fuck,” he moans as he finds your mouth.
Fishing his cock out from his underwear, you lazily jerk him to full mast. Mingyu’s hip buck into the swipe of your thumb. You’d drop your mouth to suck away the mess  collecting there but the back seat of his car doesn’t provide much room since your date claims most of the space already. Instead, you settle for tracing your tongue across the raised veins webbing across his neck and nipping at the sensitive lobe of his ear.
“Shit, shit, shit.”
Mingyu paws at your ass, fingers digging into the flesh and dragging your covered core closer to his cock. His other hand dips beneath your skirt, thumb swiping at your clit and two thick fingers pushing aside the scrap of fabric posing as underwear to stretch you open without preamble.
“Fuck, you’re so wet.” Mingyu pants.
You meet every curl of his fingers with a whine, face falling into the cradle of his jaw as he works you up. He’s everywhere; all you can feel, touch, taste. Even his cologne floods your nose; the scent of powdery spice and something intrinsically him that you can’t name.
Whether intentional or not, the match of pace isn’t lost on your mind as your fist sinks over Mingyu’s length the same time he stuffs you with his digits; fucking you by proxy while his tongue licks away every sound of satisfaction before it can make its way between your lips.
Before long, Mingyu bats away your hand to use his own. The second the latex is rolled down he holds himself for you, offering his cock like a prize you can’t refuse.
And he’s right.
The initial discomfort trickles up your spine. Eyes closed, chest caved, you take every inch as Mingyu whispers praise after praise into your neck. Twitching in each other’s hold, each clench of your cunt dips his stomach until you pull him back to your mouth and goad him with a demanding draw against his tongue with your own; a wet suckle more obscene than the way he splits you has him returning the gesture with fervor.
Hips finding a jilted rhythm, Mingyu manages to latch to one of your nipples, teeth razing along the sensitive skin until you nearly collapse from the delightful pain.
Arching into his chest so hard it hurts, your voice cracks, “Oh, Gyu.”
“Good girl,” he groans into your chest.
The hand on your ass pulls you across his cock, forcing you down with each of his thrusts up. Mingyu’s loud but you’re louder and the abandoned top floor of the parking deck doesn’t provide any disguise from what’s happening behind the foggy windows of his SUV. 
As sexy as you are with your head thrown back, desperately moaning his name, the fear of getting caught is starting to suffocate him.
You beat against his chest when Mingyu pins you in place. He crushes you flat against him, pelvis to pelvis, so deep you feel him in your throat. Tight around the stretch, he nearly loses his train of thought but finds it when an involuntary rush of his thighs makes you squeak.
He brushes his thumb across the apple of your cheek in an effort to quell the bubbling tantrum behind your eyes. “Shhh,” he whispers. “We can't get caught.” 
Time stops as you come to a crossroads. Eye to eye, you can see him waiting for a signal. If you want to stop, drive thirty minutes back to either of your apartments, and then go at it like rabbits, Mingyu will do it. If you want him to stop, drop you off at your doorstep, and send him home with the worst hard on of his life, he’ll smile through the tears. But if you want to finish what you’ve both started in the discomfort of the back seat, Mingyu needs you to be quiet.
So you can listen without complaint, bury your face in the column of his neck and bite your lip until it bleeds from strain. Or you can let Mingyu decide the best course of action.
“Then shut me up.” 
A beat of absolute silence rattles your shaking confidence. Mingyu’s eyes widen, jumping back like he’s been burned but you fake courage until you spot the way he licks his teeth at the idea.
Whatever permission he’s looking for he finds in the slight dip of your chin. You watch Mingyu’s mood shift in an instant. The playful tilt of his lips melt away, the corners of his eyes freeze over their usual humor. And the arm around the dip of your waist squeezes so tight you fear he’ll leave a bruise in the shape of his palm.
The hand on your face falls to your jaw, pinching your cheek between his pointer finger and thumb as he tsks, forcing your head back and forth mockingly before he forces his thumb between your teeth.
“Shut. Up.” 
He punctuates his command with a bruising thrust of his cock; thrilled at the way his thumb digging into your tongue chokes any sound. The hand on your ass nearly rips your underwear as Mingyu uses it to guide your hips, keeping you bouncing in his lap until you're drooling.
Mingyu’s teeth rake against your jaw, “Touch yourself.”
You clumsily snake a hand down, hips jerking under the blind swipe of fingers at your core. Eyes unfocused, ears filled with the rush of blood, you don’t resist the urge to bite his thumb just to see what he’ll do next.
The sting of his palm against your ass isn’t a shock.
But the wet of his fingers on your throat is.
And when Mingyu squeezes, cutting off the blood to your brain for a second in a show of possessive strength, your choked wail is music to his ears.
“Fuck, you like that?”
Nodding like a bobble head, more pathetic whimpers fill the car. 
With a shift of weight, he makes you grind against his lap, the metal of his belt buckle cutting into the back of your thighs. But you’re full to the brink of shredding apart you can’t bring yourself to care. Heat in the pit of your stomach blooms, used and deep.
Mingyu fans his hand along your throat, fingers digging into the jut of your jaw to make you look at his face. His hair is a mess, cheeks rosy with sweat at his hairline. A low rumble in his throat is all the warning you get before he spits on your lips and it glides down your chin; slipping under his palm while he squeezes until stars dance in your vision.
Hips stuttering, everything draws tight; every muscle, every vein, each individual cell contracts and detonates until Mingyu fucks into your so hard your head hits the roof as he flails. Thighs firm against the top of his, you feel each sputter into the condom.
“Mingyu,” you croak, throat wrecked.
Everything feels heavy and worn when he brings you into the warmth of his chest. Somehow, you hadn’t managed to undo a single button beyond the four that let you peek at the dip between his pecs; but the friction of his shirt against your sensitive chest makes you shiver. Sweat and spit leave the fabric clinging uncomfortably but you don’t have the energy to change it.
“Jesus Christ.” Mingyu draws in a heavy breath, and the motion has your legs twitching again. “You okay?”
Nodding into his neck, your eyes slip shut. If he keeps tracing shapes on your back, you’re in serious trouble of falling asleep right there in the back of his car with his softening length still inside you. Attempting to prevent the momentum from taking over, you rise on your knees, only for Mingyu to bring you back down.
“Just…just let me hold you for a second.” he sighs, sounding as exhausted as you feel. “Please.”
Peppering languid kisses across his face, down the curve of his cheek, up the bridge of his nose, you smile when he pouts at the lack of attention to his lips. But when you meet them with your own, it's nearly impossible to call it a kiss from the sleepy grins splitting your faces.
“Wanna come back to mine?” Mingyu whispers into your cheek, leaving his own series of kisses. “We can watch that new horror movie you were talking about.”
“You hate scary movies.”
“Oh no, I guess you’ll have to stay the night in case I can’t sleep.”
“How awful!” You mock. “Did you buy more cereal?”
“Mhm.”
With a monumental sigh, “Then I guess I can come over.”
It takes nearly fifteen minutes to find the courage to unwind from each other. Mingyu distracts you by tracing shapes between your shoulder blades and making you guess his artistic interpretation. Each time you're wrong he demands a kiss. Each time you're right he gives you one back.
When you make him guess what your finger burns into his shoulder he nearly faints before deciding it's time to head home, hands intertwined over the center console the entire way.
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Taglist: @tomodachiii @cvpidyunho @miniseokminnies @ddaengpotate @arycutie @gaebestie @primoppang @gyuguys @mine-gyu @doremifasire @missminhoe @toplinehyunjin @crvs4vldtn @prettygyuuu
© highvern. copying/reuploading/translating my work anywhere is strictly prohibited.
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mattscoquette · 4 months
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𝑺𝑵𝑬𝑨𝑲𝒀 | 𝑪𝑯𝑹𝑰𝑺 𝑺𝑻𝑼𝑹𝑵𝑰𝑶𝑳𝑶
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𝒊𝒏 𝒘𝒉𝒊𝒄𝒉.. you help the triplets clean up their warehouse and somehow ending up fucking chris. based on this post from my inbox!
smut, p in v, unprotected sex (DONT DO THIS!!!!!!), basically just sex with a small plot line
1k words
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“fuck chris,” you muttered, your head dropping low as you leaned against the desk, chris pounding into you from the back.
you really don’t know how you both ended up in this situation. the triplets invited you out for the day, grabbing lunch and planning to go shopping afterwards. however, you had to make a quick stop at the warehouse before going to the mall, matt claiming that it was a “fucking disaster in there” and he didn’t want to work tomorrow if it was messy. so, you all dropped by to clean up after your lunch, the three of them promising to buy you something nice at the mall for helping them.
when you arrived, you each decided to split up, the four of you taking your own floor to focus on. you finished way before everyone else, opting to go upstairs to the top floor and help chris out since his floor was the messiest. you weren’t sure if it was the way your legs looked in your denim shorts, or the not-so-subtle looks you were giving chris, but before you knew it he had you against the desk while his tongue roamed your mouth, his hands exploring all parts of your body. now you were propped up against the desk, leaning on your crossed arms for support with your shorts around your ankles and your tank top on the other side of the room.
“taking me so fucking good,” chris grunted, the bottom of his t-shirt being held in between his teeth. his hand were leaving bruises on your hips, gripping onto them for dear life while he thrusted into you. you moaned loudly when chris hit that spot inside of you, your legs beginning to shake.
chris’ hand flew up to your mouth, his thumb running along your bottom lip before he shoved it in your mouth. he pressed his body flush against your back, leaning down with you as he kept up his pace. “gotta stay quiet, baby, can’t have everyone hearing how good i’m making you feel, can we?” be whispered into your ear.
you nodded, feeling chris move your hair to the side and begin to press hot kissed down the back of your neck, his hand moving from your mouth to your tits, groping them over your laced bra. he picked you guys up from your bent over position, so you were both standing upright as your head tilted back again, trying your best to keep your noises concealed. the blue eyed boy continued leaving marks on your neck, groaning into it when he felt you grinding your hips on his dick as he thrusted in and out of you. his hand that held your hips moved down to toy with your clit, his thumb rubbing it in small circles.
your bottom lip tugged between your teeth, a small mm escaping your mouth. you felt chris’ hot breath fan across your neck, his hair sticking slightly to his forehead. he was sucking a mark into your neck right beneath your ear when your phone on the desk began ringing. nicks name flashed across the screen, your eyes going wide.
“answer it.” chris told you, his speed not slowing.
“i-i can’t,” you whined, you bringing your own hand up to cover your mouth now.
“answer it or i’ll fucking stop,” he threatened, although his hold around your body tightened.
you nodded hesitantly, reach forward to pick up the call. “h-hello?” you answered, your voice faltering as you felt chris’ thumb rub faster on your clit.
“are you both almost done? me and matt are down here waiting.” nick huffed, his voice laced with annoyance.
you gasped, chris scooping your one of your tits out of your bra, pinching your nipple.
“hello?” nick asked again, “do we have to come up there and get you two?”
“no, no, we’re almost done,” you managed to get out, practically panting.
“okaay..” nick replied, saying something to matt about how they should both just go wait in the car.
you hung up, your phone falling from your hands, reaching up to tangle your fingers in chris’ hair while you met his lips in a messy kiss of teeth and tongues to keep your noises concealed. he continued pounding into you, his thumb at your clit still while he kneaded the flesh of your exposed boob with his hand.
“so close,” you sighed into his mouth, the tingling feeling in your stomach growing more and more with each thrust.
“i know, baby, me too,” he muttered as his head fell to your shoulder, “be a good girl and cum for me.”
you moaned loudly, praying nick and matt actually did go out to the car like he said he would. you felt the knot in your stomach snap, your legs shaking as you came on chris’ dick, your body going limp against his. with a few more hard thrusts, chris released his load into you, groaning into your shoulder. he slowly pulled out from you, watch the mix of yours and his cum drip from your soaked pussy. his dipped his hand down, scooping it onto his fingers, bringing it up to your mouth and letting you suck the arousal off.
“taste yourself, pretty girl,” he told you, feeling your tongue swirl around his slender digits. after a moment, he pulled them out with a pop, pressing a quick chaste kiss to your cheek. “let me get you cleaned up real quick.”
chris walked away into the bathroom, returning a minute later with a baby wipe and your tank top that was strewn across the floor. you wiped your legs, ducking down quick to pull up your panties and shorts. your turned around at chris, watching as he pulled his sweatpants up, his neck and face covered in a sheer layer of sweat, his lips kiss swollen. he looked up, smiling as he met your gaze.
“what?” he asked.
“it’s still messy up here.” you told him.
© mattscoquette
𝐚/𝐧: i’ve been writing sm for chris lately i feel like im cheating on matt 🫣🫣 anywho i wrote this while it was dead at work the other day so sorry if it’s a little rushed and short but i promise i got more things coming soon. writing grind is back!!!!!!!!! i love u all so very much thank u for reading! hope u enjoy
𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: @alorsxsturn @sturniolossss @cammie4298 @bussybandit1 @amorttentia @franticroads @sturnsssbow @cams5sos @strombolilovr @st7rnioioss @junnniiieee07 @mattscurlygirly @simply-a-simper @sturnrc @sturnifyed @freshlovie @imwetforyourmom @69isabella69 @mattsturnxoxo @stonermattsgf @pettydollie @fawnchives @mmay4ever @sturniololvrrr @whosthislyssbitch @pr1ncessmatt @lanas-doll @55sturn @grimholic @emma4eva @recklessmatt @pinksturniolo @sturngirly @matthewscorner @mattspolitank @dominicfikue
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illusioninfnty · 1 year
Text
day 12 ; public sex
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↠ billy hargrove x reader
fandom: stranger things word count: 1k warnings: nsfw 18+, mean!billy (pretty obvious), no prep, no aftercare (damn double homicide), dirty talk, degradation, spanking, slight hair pulling, unprotected sex, creampie
kinktober m.list || read on ao3
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“I swear to fucking God, if she’s not out here in the next second, I’m leaving her ass.”
You roll your eyes. “Billy, it’s been two minutes since the bell rang.”
Neil had yelled at Billy to go and pick up Max, so you decided to accompany him, since the two of you were just hanging in his room and making out the whole day. Plus, it had been quite awhile since you’d seen the kid. You missed her spunk and funny quips at Billy.
He clicks his tongue. “Too fucking long me for me.” He flicks his cigarette out the window of his Camaro. He shifts the gear and backs out of the parking lot, driving away from the school.
“What—Billy? What are you doing?” You cry out, grabbing onto the sides. “We need to get Max!”
“She can walk.” He drives for a bit, eventually parking in an empty alleyway. He gets out of the car, slamming the door. He leans into the open window, looking at you expectantly. “Get out.”
You stare at him puzzled, but still comply.
When you walk around to the hood of the car where he now stands, Billy grabs your wrist, turns you around and pushes you down against it.
He grinds on you from behind, and you can feel the growing erection through his tight jeans. “Here? Seriously?”
Billy paws at your ass through your shorts. “C’mon princess, it’ll be fun. Lighten up for once.”
You roll your eyes and sigh. Billy always liked to experiment with you when it came to sex, but being in public had always been something you were hesitant about. It was already heavily frowned upon that you were in a relationship with him; you didn’t want to imagine the outcry your uppity father would have if word caught that the two of you were doing indecent acts out where everyone could see.
But thinking about it more, you didn’t really give a shit. You loved being with Billy, and if he wanted to fuck you in a dingy alleyway, you would happily allow yourself to be fucked in said alleyway.
You shimmy out of your new designer skirt, a birthday gift from your parents, balling it up and tossing them aside. Billy smirks from behind you and you bend over to push yourself against his erect cock.
“Get to it then,” you tell him. “I’m not giving you much time.” A dark chuckle leaves his lips and you can hear the zip of his jeans as he pulls his cock out.
Within seconds he’s slamming into you, and you let out a sharp cry of pain from the lack of prep. You begin to adjust slowly, as Billy starts to fuck his cock into you. Your walls suck him up all the way to the base, squeezing him as tight as you can.
“Such a fucking slut,” Billy hisses. He grabs your ass in a handful, rubbing and squeezing it.
You gasp and bite your lip. “You’re one to talk.”
He barks out a laugh from behind you and spanks you hard, causing you to go limp under his hold.
Your front rubs against the hood of his car, breasts bouncing with the force of his thrusts and hardened nipples pushing against your top cause you to shiver. You reach your hands out to ground yourself.
Just then you hear the sound of a car whizzing by, and you tighten up around Billy in fear. 
“Yeah, fuck, just like that babe,” he groans out, unaware of your fear. “So tight.”
“Billy!” You scold him, stretching a hand behind to smack him wherever you can reach, which ends up being his lower stomach. “There was a car!”
He doesn’t let up with his thrusts, instead flattening a hand on the small of your back to hold you in place. “What’d you fucking think was going to happen?” He scoffs. “You were the one that said we don’t have time.”
Suddenly you weren’t so confident in your initial response. “W-what if someone walks by?” you whisper out.
If it was possible, BIlly somehow seems to get more turned on, his cock pulsing more inside of you. His balls slap against your clit as he presses himself further inside you, burying his cock to the hilt.
“Then I’d cum inside you and then beat the shit out of them for seeing my girlfriend looking so cock hungry like this.”
Although it was probably in no way his intention, Billy’s words both calm you and arouse you more. You feel your pussy relax a bit, letting him slide in even further, before tightening once again like a vice.
Billy laughs mockingly. “Does that turn you on? Someone else watching you act like a slut for me?” He fingers his hand through your hair, grabbing it by the root to pull you up. “I don’t think you want me to leave this filthy pussy,” he whispers in your ear.
“No!” You moan out weakly, not exactly sure which part you were saying it about. Billy pushes your face back down on the hood, cheek pressing up against it. You make a strangled noise as your movement is restricted even further, but he pays no attention to it.
Your body spasms uncontrollably with the weight of his thrusts and cock filling you up to the brim. Your eyes roll in the back of your head as you bask in the pleasure of it all.
Billy starts to go piston even faster than before, and you can tell with the way his cock throbs furiously and the uneven rhythm of his hips that he's going to cum.
He empties himself inside of you with a low groan and a string of curses, pulling out completely after he’s done. You could feel his cum as it drips out of your pussy and down your leg.
Your legs shake from his brutal intrusion and the abrupt stopping of your own orgasm, unable to chase the high of it after the loss of Billy’s size inside of you.
“Fuck, that was good.” Billy slaps your ass one final time as he zips himself back into his pants, causing you to let out a yelp. “We need to do that again some time.”
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piastrisun · 21 hours
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the perfect gift.
pairings: lando norris x fem!reader.
summary: the tradition of the secret santa in mclaren never ends, much less now that lando got your name on it.
genre: fluff.
word count: 1k.
warning: none.
notes: no use of y/n or any names at all.
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as someone who notices every little detail and always stays on top of things, you can’t help but pick up on the small comments your colleagues make. if someone mentions they like something, it becomes second nature for you to remember it. and the moment you come across that item, you instinctively get it for them without a second thought. it’s not even about the object itself; it’s just who you are, attentive and thoughtful. the drivers are no exception. if oscar casually mentions he likes something as simple as a keyring, you make sure to have one ready for him at the first opportunity. and when it comes to lando, well, it's a little different. not that you play favorites, of course, but there's just something about him. you find yourself wanting to give him more—small, thoughtful gifts that hold meaning, not just because of what they are, but because it feels like you're speaking a language only he can understand.
luckily for you, lando is the same way. he’s always been so attentive to his colleagues and the whole mclaren team, making sure everyone feels seen and appreciated. and now, with christmas just around the corner, festive decorations sparkling in every room, the smell of pine filling the air, and the buzz of the secret santa exchange spreading excitement through the halls, something different stirs. fate, with its playful timing, has placed your name in lando’s hands. and though most of your interactions have remained professional, you somehow have this strange power over him, lighting up his day with just a smile or a laugh. he can’t stop thinking about you.
determined to make this gift special, lando has spent weeks quietly gathering hints, listening closely to every comment you’ve made, every subtle suggestion. it’s almost like he’s reverse engineering your tastes, wanting to find something that reflects how much he cares. and finally, after all the planning, he finds it, the perfect gift. it’s not just a present; it’s something that speaks to your interests, something that carries meaning far beyond its surface.
on the day of the exchange, your heart is fluttering with excitement, but there’s also a familiar nervousness creeping in as everyone gathers around the festive table, gifts piled high, laughter filling the air. as soon as the room grows quieter, your heart starts to beat louder, like it’s trying to escape your chest. you try focusing on the cheerful chatter around you, but every time you sneak a glance at lando, all your attempts at being calm fly out the window. he stands across the table, nervously shifting his weight from foot to foot, and for once, his usual laid-back vibe seems to disappear. every time your eyes accidentally meet, you feel heat rush to your cheeks, forcing you to look away almost immediately. what is it about him that makes you feel like this?
it’s a quiet, unspoken game, the tension hanging between you like a string about to snap. even oscar catches on, watching the two of you from the corner of his eye, grinning to himself as if he's the only one in on the secret. it’s amusing, the way your obvious connection has become so noticeable to everyone but, somehow, not entirely to you or him.
when your turn comes, after what feels like an eternity, you try to steady your hands as you reach for the present in front of you. you know it’s from him. somehow, you just know. your hands move almost automatically, and as you tear through the paper, the room falls into a soft, curious hush. your fingers tug at the wrapping paper, and when the gift is finally revealed, you freeze. your breath hitches in your throat. it’s the book, a rare edition you’ve been searching for years. the one you never thought you'd get your hands on. and next to it, resting carefully in a little pot, is a delicate flower, your favorite. and a handwritten note with a poorly drawn smiley face: “merry christmas, i’m grateful i met you.”
your eyes shoot up, and there he is, standing still, watching your reaction closely. that familiar smile of his is softer now, almost shy, a look you rarely ever see on him. lando, always so confident, now seems unsure, almost vulnerable.
“oh my god, this is perfect, lan. thank you,” you manage to say, your voice trembling with gratitude and something else you can’t quite name. you don’t think twice; you step forward and wrap your arms around him, your cheek pressing against him. it feels so natural. his arms wrap around you too, holding you in a way that makes you feel seen. he rests his chin on your head, and you can hear his soft sigh of relief. there’s no denying it now, he has been paying attention, really paying attention to everything about you.
“i’m glad you like it,” he murmurs, his voice so close to your ear that it sends shivers down your spine. “i spent ages trying to think of something that might make you happy.”
your fingers lightly brush the petals, and a warmth floods through you, a warmth you've been ignoring, maybe even avoiding, until now. you look up, and there he is, looking right at you with that shy, almost bashful smile you rarely see on him. it makes your heart flutter, seeing him this thoughtful. for a second, it feels like the whole room has melted away, the room, the laughter, the others. there’s only you and him, standing across from each other, caught in the quiet magic of the moment. you can’t help it, you smile wide, your face flushing with joy.
“wanna go out sometime?” you blurt out, the words tumbling from your lips before you can even think to stop them. the second the words leave your lips, you feel a rush of embarrassment, but at the same time, relief. it feels good to finally ask, to finally say what you’ve been holding back for so long.
lando’s eyes light up instantly, his face breaking into a smile that makes your heart skip a beat. “please, i’d love to,” he nods, his voice soft, as if the question had been burning in his mind too.
before you can say anything else, oscar’s teasing voice breaks through the magic, making you jump. “thank god for that. i was getting sick of you two.” he gives lando a playful pat on the back, grinning, but nothing can wipe the smile off either of your faces now.
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©⠀piastrisun original work. please don’t translate, claim or repost any of my writing, 24’.
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mayullla · 8 months
Note
Yandere Tighnari 🌺🦋
Title: A Little Chocolate Test
Character(s): Tighnari (Genshin Impact) Warnings/tags: Yandere themes, Fem!reader, dubious consent, dubious/non con use of aphrodisiacs, yandere themes, yan Tighnari, 1k words
[ - A little present~! Event - Closed - ]
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You didn't remember clearly how you got here. There was a heat in your stomach as you looked lovingly at the man in front of you. You had always had a crush on this person for a long time. His cool hand gently held your face as you leaned towards him, in a daze. If he did not hold you in his arms, you feared you would have already slumped to the dirt floor, lacking energy to move, unable to make clear, solid thoughts.
"One more." Something touched your mouth. A familiar smell of chocolate, somewhat melted, left marks on the gloves of the man that you liked while also leaving some on your lips. "Come on, open up your mouth. You can do it."
It was difficult to do, yet you followed, weak to his words. Your face was already hot, not from the humidity, but because of the boiling that you felt within you, worsened under his stare as he looked down at you. His eyes looked at you like you were something to be studied, examining you made you feel like you were naked under him. You felt exposed, embarrassment seeping into your veins, wanting no more than to hide.
"Hmmm, so this is what happens when you eat those chocolates. I must say you are quite knowledgeable with your work. Where did you find out that this plant had aphrodisiac properties?" He asked you, mumbling half of the time. You groaned, head unable to concentrate on his words, yet your body was still so sensitive to his voice.
"Hmmm, I guess it would be hard to get an answer right now," Tighnari mumbled to himself, moving your hair away from your face. Both of you were on a fallen tree in the middle of the forest. In the middle of nowhere, you barely remembered that Tighnari had sent the other forest rangers away, but you could not remember the reason.
You didn't know when they would come back, as your attention was still on him. He was the one you had a crush on for the longest time. You were once both students in the same Darshan Amurta. You always had an interest in biology, unique plants, and fungus, and you wanted to learn and know more when you saw him.
For the longest time, it had always been an innocent crush. It was difficult to get closer to him when everyone always crowded around him, wanting to get his opinion on something or learn a little more. Even if you had a chance, your tongue was tied, and it was difficult to hold a conversation with him long enough for something to happen.
When he graduated, you could only watch from afar, smiling with a little sadness in your heart as he left. You thought that was the end, as you watched him leave from afar, thinking it was the last time you would ever have the chance to grow closer to him.
Your mind was too muddled to continue thinking, and you were too drugged to remember anything as he helped you push the next chocolate into your mouth, muttering to himself that he was curious about something. How did you end up in his arms? How did this happen?
"You know, I wasn't surprised when I smelled the chocolates on you when you arrived. I heard that you had been curious about the concept of chocolate being a natural aphrodisiac." You were having a difficult time breathing, feverish, yet just for a moment, you were lucid enough to realize that you were leaning on your crush's arms. When did he move you closer to him?
"Ah- No, no. Don't do that. You are too dazed right now; you will fall and hurt yourself." Tighnari huffed a sigh as he brought you closer to him while pushing another small bit of chocolate past your lips when you somehow finished the last one. You groaned again, moaning in suffering of this craving of lust. The light touches of Tighnari sent chills down your spine, yet at the same time, a torment for you who wanted more, yet as drool fell from your lips, unable to coherently make words except grunts, too dazed to form sentences.
"You have always been a romantic, even when we went to the academy. I sometimes caught you daydreaming and in a daze. It was quite cute, to be honest with you." None of his words were registering in your mind; you were too limp in his arms. "I was always curious as to what you were thinking; imagine my surprise when I heard you guys talking about me." He chuckled as if reminded by something, probably something that was supposed to be meant for only you and your friend. "It was disappointing to leave the academy, I must say, when I know that you were still there. But what to do, I was needed somewhere else... I guess you would not hear me now."
You moaned in complaint when he tried to move you again, unable to move as much as you tried to run away from his hands that you thought were trying to pull you away from him. His laughter as he told you that it was okay, his tail moving to curl around you. "Hmmm, you are quite cute like this too." His voice so close made you flustered, yet instead of recognizing your pain and lust, he laughed his hand stroking your back making it even more unbearable for you.
He was teasing you.
"I was curious as to how much you have done with your research on this chocolate. Seems like it is still a work in progress… but I actually quite prefer this outcome." You didn't realize your hand was held by him, fingers interlocked with each other, yours too weak to move anymore as he brought your hand near his lips. You didn't see the chocolate mark near his lips as he kissed the back of your hand. "Don't worry, I will take care of you."
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cowboybarzy · 8 months
Note
could you please do D28 and D43 for jeremy swayman where you’re riding him and he’s vocal about liking how you scratch him up 🥵🤤
god I love sway so so so so much and need with such passion! thank you for the request and keep it coming
wc: 1k
cw: dirty talk, piv, somewhat rough sex; SMUT 18+
just keep this in mind while you read this 🤤🤤
28. “I want you to leave marks.” & 43. “Don’t be gentle.”
gif by @snoopyfl
welcome home, baby
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“Fuck, Jer,” you moaned loudly when you sank down on his hard cock. He groaned just as loudly, finally feeling your soaking wet pussy squeeze around him after days of being gone.
“So good, so wet for me,” Jeremy whispered and latched his lips onto your neck when your head fell back with another moan when he was buried to the hilt. His lips sucked and kissed your skin, bringing you more pleasure as you got used to his cock stretching you. His teeth scraped your neck, eventually biting you ever so softly, but enough to make you yelp and thrust your hips.
Jeremy chuckled lightly and kissed his way back up to your lips. His hands gripped your hips more tightly, urging you to start moving – and you did. Slowly at first, easing him deeper into you. “Fuck,” you moaned, as your nails scratched along his shoulders for stability. Your eyes rolled back as the tip of his cock pressed further than you thought possible. “You’re so deep.”
"Yeah," he panted in agreement, "You’re little pussy is taking me so well."
You started grinding into him faster, lifting your hips slightly, loving the feeling of him slipping back into you so deeply. Jeremy’s hand lifted from your hip and cradled the side of your head when you dropped your forehead against his. “Jer.” His name was just a whisper which he swallowed with a passionate kiss as you kept grinding against him. His thumb swiped your lips aggressively before pushing through them into your mouth. With an appreciative groan, your lips closed around it and sucked, just like you had been sucking on his cock just a few minutes ago.
“Good girl.” His gentleness suddenly vanished with hard slap against your ass. Jeremy moved from the sitting position, keeping you on top of him, so that his back lay flat against the couch cushions. His hands tightly back on your hips helped your movements, up and down, rocking back and forth on his cock, quicker and quicker.
"Oh my god, oh my god," you chanted, "it's s-so good, Jer, it feels so good—"
He bit his lip as he watched you, and you loved how it felt to have those hazel eyes looking up and down your body as you moved. Your hands supported themself on his chest and with every thrust your nails scratched further and deeper into his skin. But when you realized how much you were actually hurting him, you switched to holing onto the couches arm rest. “Don’t.” Jeremy brought your hands back to his chest. “I want you to leave marks.”
So your freshly manicured nails, which Jeremy had paid for, kept digging into his skin, leaving marks. Jeremy bent his knees and without any warning started thrusting into you relentlessly. His hands roamed your body, with one hand ending up in your hair, holding on to a bunch while he kept up his hard thrust into you. You shuddered all over as the curve of his cock rubbed against your sensitive spot aggressively and you broke down against him with a sob.
“Yes! More. Don’t be gentle.” You arched your back and his your face in the crock of his neck, letting the pleasure wash over you as you crept closer to your orgasm.
“So fucking tight,” Jeremy groaned, grunting more filthy words into your ear. “Good girl. You’re such a good girl for me, baby.”
His strong arm swung around your hips holding them in place as his thrusts somehow became faster. Moving faster, you felt the pressure building inside you, pulsing and swelling. But after a few more ruthless thrusts, he stopped and pulled your head up by your hair to meet his lips for a kiss. It was a hungry, dominating kiss, one that made you whine as he tasted all over your tongue and mouth. So close to your orgasm, you started desperately grinding your hips again and you kissed and kissed.
Eventually his hand moved out of your hair and you felt it gently curl around your neck. He didn't let go of your neck, as you kept kissing, but eventually he tightened his grip just enough to make you choke out a raspy moan against his lips, which you felt smirk a moment later.
He pushed you upright, never stopping your rocking movements, and watched as you let out small moans with his hand around your neck and his cock deep inside your pussy. He could feel you clench around him, getting tighter, so he nodded. “Yeah, show me how you make yourself come.”
You really didn’t need much more, but still you started bouncing faster and finally rubbed your clit. Just for him to watch as you chased your high, which hit you in intense waves that seemed never ending.
“You’re so good for me,” he grunted, as his hips started speeding up again, now chasing his own orgasm. Whimpering as he fucked your through your orgasm and straight into another one, you felt your walls bearing down on him as it nearly hit you — the way it was drawn out just made you sure it would build up even stronger and hit you harder.
“I’m gonna come again,” you let out in a small whimper.
“Fuck, yes, baby. Come on my cock,” he grunted, pulling you back into him and therefore slamming into you harder. “I’m so close, too.”
“I want you to come in me.” It turned him on just as much as it did you, so you repeated yourself when his grunts got more desperate and his thrusts more sloppy. “Come in me, Jer. I need it. Need to be so fucking full.”
“Fuck,” he groaned, as he finally reached his high at the same time your second orgasm came crushing in. Your nails dug back into his skin, so deeply, as you felt his cock pulse inside you, heat flooding between your legs and his head falling back onto the couch with the most gorgeous fucked-out look on his face.
"God— oh my god—" Jeremy panted out, still in the post orgasm haze, starting to catch his breath. With your last remaining energy, you lifted yourself just enough to kiss him gently.
“Welcome home, baby.”
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moonstruckme · 3 months
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could i req any marauder finding r’s sh scars and being loving about them? going through hell rn. it’s okay if u cant, love u mae
Wishing you all the best sweetheart, hope you're doing what you can to support yourself and let others around you support you too <33
cw: past self harm
modern au
Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 1k words
“Did his wife cheat on him?”
“Why would you think that?” 
“I mean, if not, why does the mother-in-law hate her so much?” 
Remus shrugs, a secret smile playing on the edge of his mouth. His knuckles run over the skin of your shoulder idly as he keeps his eyes on the laptop screen. “Suppose you’ll have to wait and see.” 
You huff a laugh. “What’s the point of watching with someone who’s already seen it if you won’t tell me anything?” 
“It’s only ever really fun for the person who’s already seen it. I get to watch you go through the agonies I did.” 
“The agonies.” You roll your eyes, leaning deeper into his side. You could be a bit more convincing about holding this against him, but Remus’ bed is almost as comfortable as Remus himself, and you’ve found it impossible to pretend at being any less smitten with him than you really are. He sees right through you every time. “If you’d mentioned the agonies in your pitch, I might not have agreed to this.” 
“You’ll like it,” he promises, leaning back on you in turn, your shoulder pushing into his arm. 
The two of you are having the laziest of afternoons. What had started as a coffee date had turned into a trip to the bookstore across the street and then a walk in a park, and when it had gotten too warm out for the both of you Remus had invited you over for lunch and somehow you’ve ended up here, sitting on his bed in a borrowed pair of sweatpants while you watch a film on his laptop and he touches you like you’re a fascination he’d like to spend years studying. 
It’s an indolent, distracted sort of touching. Almost like he’s mapping you out in his subconscious, so that someday he’ll know you by instinct and memory but he’s in no hurry to get there. Like he’s got time. It’s also hypnotic. As captivating as Remus’ film selection is, you’re having a difficult time keeping up with the plot when your eyelids are so, so heavy. 
His knuckles stroke over your neck, the bare skin of your collarbone, down the slope of your shoulder. You don’t realize your shirt has slipped off the top of your arm until he does.
You freeze, Remus doesn’t. His fingers continue to graze lightly over the neat rows of scars, slowing as though losing momentum. You close your eyes. 
Emotion rises like a gag reflex in your throat. Apprehension and shame and a guilt you don’t quite understand. Like you’re wrong for ever having had the audacity to hurt, like this is something you’re doing to him, somehow, even though it’s long over and was only ever a misguided attempt at making yourself feel better. It’s nonsensical, and you feel it anyway. 
Remus is quiet for a long while. 
His touch moves back up your shoulder, to unmarred skin and safer territory. He asks, “You okay?” 
You swallow. “You mean, like, presently?”
“Yeah.” There’s the faintest hint of teasing in Remus’ voice. He sweeps his thumb over the back of your neck, an attempt at soothing you. “Or in general, whatever suits you.” 
“Yeah, I’m okay.” 
“I’m sorry if I overstepped just now. I didn’t know.”
“No…no, you’re alright. I wasn’t…” You rub your lips together, taking in what you hope is a subtle breath through your nose. “You’re fine.” 
“Does it bother you to think about them?” he asks. You can feel him looking at you, now, but you keep your eyes on the screen. It’s the only way for you to have this conversation. 
“Not really. It was just something I did for a while, you know?” 
“Yeah,” he says softly. “Yeah, that makes sense.” 
You sit there for another quiet minute, you watching the movie and Remus watching you. The coil of apprehension in you starts to loosen. Your breaths come easier. 
“Sorry,” you say, not bothering to force lightness into your tone, “I didn’t mean to spring that on you. It’s not a secret, but it’s not something that tends to come up, like, casually.” 
“No, hey, you’re fine.” Remus sounds serious enough that you turn to look at him, and you find him with a hard notch between his brows, a surprised sort of frown on his lips. “If anyone sprung anything, it was me. You haven’t done anything wrong. I don’t imagine it’s an easy subject to broach.” 
“It’s not a big deal to me anymore.” You’re beginning to sound almost as if you’re pleading with him. 
“Alright.” 
“And it was a long time ago now.” 
“It’s okay, love.” 
“I just know people sometimes get freaked out, and I don’t want you to worry—” 
“Hey.” There’s a tenderness to Remus’ voice as he cuts you off. His honey-toned eyes are soft. “It’s okay. Can I hug you?” 
You nod mutely. The hand currently resting by your neck slips down to hug your ribs, and his other arm comes around your front, palming your bare upper arm. He rubs up and down comfortingly, seemingly mindless of the faint lines under his touch. 
Remus’ lips touch to your hair. When he pulls you tighter against him, it feels almost like you’re rocking. “You’re alright,” he murmurs, to you, to himself. “You’re alright.” 
“Sorry,” you whisper, self-conscious now of your nervous blithering and slightly stunned by the way he’s touching you. 
“For what, sweetheart? Don’t be sorry. If you want to talk about it—about anything—I will always want to hear it, but you don’t owe me any explanation, alright?” 
“Yeah.” Your lungs deflate a little, a relief you hadn’t known you needed. “Thanks.” 
“Don’t thank me, either.” Remus is teasing again, the press of his lips to your hair at once firm and fond. He lets you go but keeps his arm around your waist, dropping his head to rest on yours again. “You’re just fine, yeah?” 
“Yeah.” You snuggle into his side, somehow safer than before. “I’m good. I’ve been good.” 
His thumb sweeps over your side. “And you can tell me if you’re ever not. You’re perfect regardless.”  
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