#why’s it slightly thicker than the hair around it

[acapelladitty]

out of control

Pairing: Sofia Falcone/Reader

Summary: Sofia claims you as her own and you're more than happy with that.

Sofia Falcone was a woman who knew what she liked. From her fashion to her choice in sycophants, she surrounded herself with things that amused her and caught her attention.

Like you.

It was her boldness that had attracted you in the first place, how easily she slipped behind you as you had danced and how warm her hand felt on the exposed skin of your lower back. A dance had quickly dissolved into a messy fuck in her closest apartment and the month that followed had been littered with quiet events and tasteful gifts that sparkled across your neck and ears.

Sofia Falcone was a woman who knew what she liked and, right now, her determination to drive you through her expensive mattress only served to make that more obvious.

The scent of red wine, your favourite, and whisky, hers, was thick in the air as your ass clung to the edge of the bed and your thighs remained wide open as you made room for the beautiful woman between them.

Wearing nothing but a harness to hold her strap in place, Sofia's skin looked soft under the gentle lighting and her dark eyes were firey as they roved between your face and exposed chest, every thrust of her hips making your tits jiggle and bounce in place.

This strap was one of her favourites.

On the thicker side, the length itself wasn't unmanageable and it allowed her to slam herself deeply without too much discomfort as her warm thighs made flush contact with your own. It was the thickness that was your undoing. Every stroke dragged across your walls and rubbed those wicked parts of yourself that had you panting and mewling for her within minutes, the slight discomfort only serving to make the pleasure all the more sweet.

Sofia adored it as the small ribbed attachment which housed itself within the harness lay across her clit, ensuring that every stroke sparked a hot flash of arousal to build within her own dripping cunt. A rising pleasure that pushed her to be selfish as she chased that high and increased her punishing pace on your poor cunt.

"Not too much is it, baby?"

Her accented voice slightly thickened by her arousal, Sofia squeezed your hip to drag your attention to her flushed face as she dropped her movements to lazy thrusts while she spoke.

"It's good, " you panted out as your hand snatched free of the sheets to run across your forehead and push away some of the hair which had fallen there, "you know it's good."

Her reply was little more than a self-satisfied noise as she flashed her whitened teeth at you in a playful grin. Without warning, her sharp nails dropped from your hip to pinch at your engorged clit and the sensation pulled a raw sound from your throat, the keen of a wounded animal as you thrashed against her hand and wordlessly begged for mercy.

"Such a good girl for me." Sofia muttered, taking pity and releasing your clit to instead score her nails across your outer thigh - igniting a streak of heat that flared across your scratched skin.

She was relentless with the strap. Every punishing thrust deep enough to glance off your cervix as she carefully angled her hips to ensure that every inch of your walls was forced to feel the pressure of her cock stretching you around her.

"Sof-Sofia." The only word that you could manage between whimpers as your fingers clutched at the sheets with open desperation. "Sofia!"

"Yes, baby. I'm here." She replied sweetly, those same punishing nails now stroking gentle shapes across your lower back. "Does my cock make you feel good?"

Your response was wordless, head nodding messily as she pressed her hand to your lower stomach - feeling your muscles shifting as you clench and writhe beneath her snapping hips.

"You're so hungry for me," Sofia continued. "It's why I can't help myself. So needy. So soft. So wet for me."

"Only for- fuck! Only for you."

With a soft chuckle, she fucks you to your first release and you scream into the sheets as your pussy convulses around her strap. She knows the signs and her fingers return to your clit, pushing you quickly past the point of comfort as every nerve in your body feels alight. It's almost painful, how much of the aching need that spasms your walls reacts to her rough touch.

Pressing your head to the side to gasp in thankful lungfuls of air, you meet Sofia's eyes as she tilts her body enough to catch your attention. Her gaze is focused, sharp and lustful as she grins down at you from behind reddened lips and you can't help but match her smile with one of your own.

"Still not full, baby." You tease, pushing back on the strap until it's pressing flush against your cervix. "You up for more before it's my turn?"

She laughs at that, a light yet throaty noise, and her response is answered in a soft slap which glances off your ass and let's you know in an instant that she's not finished with you yet.

[wowreally0102]

i play with the hair under my belly button when i’m bored alone

[vrtvyg]

Body headcannons, based off of the ACTUAL character.

Soap: BEEFY. Have you SEEN the man's biceps? his neck? the way his chest casts a shadow in that one blue shirt? he's beefy. Full believer that his thighs ate just as thick, meaty calves, and a matching waist. every body has a bit of curve, but honestly he probably is mostly rectangle, some muscle showing on his stomach. I feel like his body wouldn't be SUPER hairy. like yes he has chest hair, leg and arms, but it isn't super thick. it's shorter, darker. he'd probably keep his pubes messily trimmed. not letting it become a bush but not caring enough to make it look pretty.

Ghost: honestly think he's a bit thinner than Soap. sure they both got muscle mass, but side to side, Ghost has the height and Soap has the form. more muscle showing but not super thick, just a leaner build, maybe a bit of chub on the stomach, arms, but not much. has minimum hair, it just doesn't grow. head a almost buzzed, arms have hair but it's short and almost too thin to see. same with his legs. no chest hair, some peach fuzz below the belly and his pubes are equally short. (I'm kind of debating this, dude might be hella muscular under all them clothes)

Price: Listen, I fucking LOVE thick price as much as the next man, but have you seen that slutty waist??? Big chest, thin waist, and a fucking fatty. he's the whole hourglass, minus the hips. Covered in hair, it's thick too. on his chest, arms, legs, thighs. probably has to get his nostrils and ears waxed, hair grows there too. probably has the thickest hair down there in 141, keeps it neat, but not trimmed. the snail trail is THICK.

Gaz: the definition of lean, the perfect cut after bulking. the long legs, thick calves, thin but muscular. He probably has a decent amount of hair, but it's only on his chest and legs (no happy trail, sadly). the hair on his chest is just ever so slightly curly, and his pubes are probably trimmed but a bit messy, like soap.

Graves: Ita giving skinny white boy. like don't get me wrong, he's a sexy mf, but I can't see him with buldging abs. he's not super thick has the biceps, thighs, and definitely ass, but his stomach is pretty flat, and his chest is flatter. no tits to grab at. I imagine he's pretty bare on the hair, and the hair he DOES have is too light to really notice. except his armpits, no idea why but they're so much thicker there than anywhere else. his pubes probably match his hair, a dirty blonde. probably shaves practically bald down there, regrets it everytime until it starts to flow again.

König: THICK. muscular, of course, but the softest layer of pudge wrapped around it. has that squishy tummy, love handles, and the HIP DIPS! the thickest thighs following, weapon harnesses squeezing around it so satisfyingly. and he's definitely a hairy man, but not in a soft bear way like price, more like a rough texture. chest hair, arm hair, thigh hair, leg hair, even hair on his toes. the snail trail is gorgeous. he doesn't really care to shave his pubes. a bit messy down there. the only time he trims is to make his dick look bigger before sending a pic.

[queenshelby]

Siblings (Part One)

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x Half!Sister

Warning: Incest

It was around 10'clock at night when you heard a quiet knock on the door.  You couldn't help but feel a little surprised—and a bit nervous. You had never had a visitor this late before as usually your siblings were out, getting themselves into trouble, and your Aunt Polly, who had taken it upon herself to look after everyone, was in bed.

Your sister Ada, with whom you shared a room, had sneaked out earlier to see her boyfriend Freddy, so it was just you that night, alone in your small room, lying on your single bed, wearing a nightgown and reading a book. 

"Who is it?" you called out, your heart skipping a beat.

"It's Thomas," came the reply. His voice was quiet and calm. 

You hesitated for a moment, wondering if you should let him in that late at night. He had just come back from the war a few weeks ago and his demure had changed towards you. It was almost like he had become obsessed with you, wanting to keep you company more often than you were used to. 

Thomas was gone for five years and came back more handsome than ever.  He had a rugged jawline, and deep-set blue eyes. He wasn't tall, but well-built with a perfect gentleman's body.

The war had hardened him, made him stronger, but also wiser. He had seen the worst of humanity, and you could tell that it had affected him deeply. It was understandable; he had been through hell and back.

"May I come in?" Thomas eventually asked, his voice still composed.

Without saying a word, you stood up and covered yourself with a robe , before opening the door slowly.

The light from the hallway spilled into the room, illuminating Thomas's figure. He looked a bit tired, but his eyes were still bright and clear.

"Of course," you said finally, as you walked back to your bed and folded your book closed. 

"I have heard that there was trouble today, at the docks," Thomas  said as he sat down on the edge of your bed. He looked tired, but fatigue failed to sap the confidence and dominance from his demeanor.

You sighed and nodded. "Ada told me not to go there, but curiosity got the better of me Tommy," you admitted whereas, the truth was, that just recently you began to involve yourself with Isiah, another Peaky Blinder and your new-found love had gotten you into trouble. 

"Curiosity, eh?" Thomas chuckled, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Isiah wouldn't have anything to do with this curiosity now, would he?" he then asked, his eyes locked on yours.

You looked away, feeling a blush creeping up your cheeks. "He never meant for me to get involved, Tommy. It just kind of happened," you replied quietly, seeing how Isiah took risks and those risks involved you. 

"Listen Y/N, you are a fucking Shelby," Thomas said, his voice stern but not unkind. "And you need to be careful about who you associate with."

"But Isiah is your friend, is he not?" you asked, slightly confused with Thomas's sudden change of tone.

"Isiah works for me Love. That doesn't make him a friend," Tommy replied curtly, his gaze still fixed on you. "Despite, even if he was my friend, I wouldn't allow him to be involved with my fucking sister,"  Tommy added, the veneer of calmness cracking a bit.

You sat on the edge of the bed, feeling a knot forming in your stomach. The way things were going, it seemed as though you had made a mistake. With the tension in the room growing thicker by the second, you felt compelled to speak.

"Honestly, I don't even know why I got myself mixed up with him, Tommy," you admitted, shame coloring your voice. "I suppose I was bored," you added as an afterthought.

Thomas looked at you, his eyes narrowing as he surveyed your face. "You're better than that, Love," he finally said, his voice steady and firm. "And if boredom is what bothers you, then I am sure we can make arrangements for you to work at the betting house," he then told you a lot more gently than before, placing some stray hair behind your ear. 

"Aunt Pol won't allow it," you  said quietly, not because you didn't want to work there, but because you believed that your aunt would not approve of such an idea.

"It is not up to Pol," Thomas said shortly, his fingertips  tracing the curve of your cheek gently. "But out of curtesy, I will discuss it with her, alright?" he added after a short pause.

Before you could respond, Thomas's hand dropped from your face, and he stood up, his presence in the small room suddenly overwhelming.

"But Y/N, if you are going to continue seeing Isiah...," he began to say and you quickly interrupted him. 

"Not after today," you replied firmly. "Not after what happened at the docks. I promise," you added, reassuring your brother.

Thomas looked at you, relief visible in his eyes. "Good. I'll hold you to that Y/N," he said before leaning down to give you a peck on your forehead.

You blushed slightly, shocked by this sudden display of affection from your half-brother. But before you could react, Thomas walked out of your room, leaving you alone with your thoughts and, when you settled back on to your bed, you couldn't help but wonder what just happened. Thomas and you have always had a close relationship since him and Arthur had assumed responsibility for you after your father got arrested by the police, but you have never witnessed such a display of emotion from him before.

As you lay there in the dark, the silence was broken by the moonlight filtering through the blinds. The light cast a soothing glow on the room and made the floral quilt on the twin bed look more inviting. Your mind was abuzz with thoughts, each one trying to get a different message across. You tried to silence them and focus on the recent events.

This whole situation with Thomas, your curiosity, the sudden shift in your relationship - you knew that it was not something to take lightly. It felt different, and you could not ignore the strange tension that lingered between the two of you.

You sighed deeply and turned to face the window. It was then that you noticed the stars twinkling in the night sky ever so slightly. They were there, silent and unassuming, much like Thomas. You couldn't help but wonder what was going on in his mind.

Thomas had always been a mystery to you, even before he left for France, but now it felt like there was a whole other person behind the blue eyes that you had grown up with.

Days had passed and you indeed started working at the gambling den , which was located in the heart of Small Heath. It was a bustling place, and it was chaotic during peak hours, but you found joy in the chaos. Surprisingly, Aunt Polly did not seem to mind much; she knew that this was one of the ways to keep you out of trouble.

While you were working there, your brother Thomas kept a close eye on you and as different men attempted to flirt with you, they quickly learned that you were untouchable, a notion further solidified by Thomas’s warning glares.

On two occasions, he even threatened gamblers with a gun after you were propositioned for a date, and it was clear to you that he wasn’t playing around. Thomas Shelby never made idle threats, after all.

"You do realise that most of these men are harmless, Tommy,"  you said to Thomas one evening, after you had closed the betting shop for the night. The sky was a deep indigo and the stars were shining brightly.

Thomas looked at you, his eyes sharp and piercing. "That may be true, but you are my sister and they need to show you some fucking respect,"  he retorted, his voice steadier than before.

"But Tommy," you began, still unsure of what to make of this sudden outburst. "I am capable of handling my own affairs. I can fend them off," you assured your brother who appeared somewhat overprotective of you.

"I am sure you are," Thomas agreed, a hint of amusement in his voice. "But what kind of employer would I be if I did not at least protect my employees from unwanted advances, eh?" he asked, one corner of his mouth twitching upwards in a half-smile.

"A pretty shite one I suppose," you admitted, returning his half-smile with a lopsided grin as he locked the door.

"Exactly," he concurred, shaking his head as you stepped onto the sidewalk, right by your brother's side. "Now let me walk you home. It's late," Thomas said as he always did when you worked in his betting house until after dawn. 

As Thomas and you walked side by side, the silence between you was comfortable, but there was still something that kept niggling the back of your mind. You couldn't quite put your finger on it, but it seemed like Thomas was hiding something from you.

Nonetheless, as you walked to the house you shared with Polly, Tommy and the others, you couldn't help but steal glances at him, trying to gauge what it was that was causing this strange behavior lately.

It was like he took a liking in you that almost felt, more than brotherly, but you decided not to focus on the matter and instead enjoyed the warmth of his company while it lasted.

Days passed, and your routine at the gambling den turned into sort of a normality, despite the occasional tensions between patrons and your brother that threatened to boil over.

On evening, at your house when you and Tommy were on your own, you ought to address it, his overprotectiveness and  the strange tension that kept building between you.

But, Tommy simply brushed it off and told you that he was simply concerned for your safety.

"But I am safe here Tommy, with you and the others," you reminded him, your tone gentle yet firm. "And at the gambling house, even if some of the customers are inappropriate, it is a safe place because no one would dare to fuck with you, Arthur or John and  I think you know that," you said, unable to mask the frustration that crept into your voice.

Tommy looked down at you, his gaze intense but soft. He took a deep breath before speaking, as if choosing his words carefully.

"Y/N, I know that you can look after yourself but, what I have learned over the years, is that no one is safe. Not here, not anywhere," Thomas said, his voice still firm but softer than before.

You stared into Thomas's eyes, feeling a strange mix of emotions coursing through your veins. Awe, admiration, and... something more. Something you couldn't quite put your finger on yet.

"The war changed you, you know?"  you said the words before you could stop yourself. 

Thomas sighed and looked at you, his expression filled with a mix of sadness and guilt. "Yes, I know," he admitted quietly. "I can't help it, Y/N. I've seen and done things that most people couldn't even imagine." 

You nodded, understanding dawning on you.

"No, you are right Tommy. I can't imagine," you said softly, caressing the scar on his cheek, causing Tommy to lean in closer, his eyes locked on yours. 

You felt your heart race as you looked into Thomas's eyes. There was something about him that made you feel safe, yet also intensely aware of your feelings for him. You had never felt this way about anyone before.

"But you know what's amusing though?" you murmured, breaking the silence that had enveloped the room as Thomas leaned over some more, his fingers lightly traced your jawline, you couldn't help but play along. "You are so overprotective towards me when it comes to potential suitors and there is almost no reason for you to be that way, because I never even kissed a boy before, so it just seems so absurd to me," you continued, allowing yourself to drop your guard, just a little.

"I find that hard to believe, Y/N," Thomas murmured, the pad of his thumb brushing the corner of your lips before slowly moving to trace the length of your jawbone.

Your breath hitched in your chest, hearing his low voice uttering your real name; you always felt an odd sense of familiarity from him, especially when he chose to use your given name, just for a brief moment. It almost felt like the two of you were not step-siblings. 

"No, it's true. I never kissed a boy before, Tommy," you confessed, the words slipping out before you could stop them. You didn't know what had come over you, but suddenly, you couldn't help but feel drawn to your half-brother. "What is it like?" you

asked, your lips barely moving as Thomas continued to trace a path along your jawline.

"What's what like?" Thomas asked, his voice low and husky, as he leaned in even closer to you.

"Kissing," you clarified, a slight blush creeping up your cheeks as you admitted this.

Thomas seemed taken aback by the question, his gaze lingering briefly on your lips before meeting your eyes again.

"I guess it depends on who you are kissing," he finally said, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Sometimes, it's just a kiss and it feels like nothing because it means nothing. But other times, it's more than that. It can be a way to express your feelings for someone. To show them how much you care about them," Thomas explained, his gaze still locked on yours.

"Do you think you could show me?" you whispered, surprising yourself with your own boldness.

Thomas's eyes narrowed as he looked at you, taking in your flushed cheeks and the way your breathing had quickened.

"Seeing that you are my sister, that would be inappropriate, don't you think?"  Thomas said, a subtle hint of amusement in his voice. 

"It's just a kiss, Tommy," you replied, a nervous laugh escaping your lips. "And no one needs to know," you continued, your heart pounding in your chest as you confessed this vulnerable part of yourself to your brother.

Thomas looked at you, his eyes searching yours as he processed your words. You could see the wheels turning in his head, and for a moment, you wondered if he was going to tell you no . But then something shifted in his gaze, a heat that made your heart race.

"Alright. Fuck it," Thomas muttered, his hand reaching up to cup your cheek as he leaned in and pressed his lips to yours.

You gasped slightly, surprised by how sudden the kiss was and how soft and gentle his lips were.

Your  hands reached up to grip his arms, feeling the firm muscles beneath your fingertips as you leaned into the kiss. Thomas's other hand reached up to tangle in your hair, pulling you closer as he deepened the kiss.

Not knowing what to do, you followed his lead and when he parted his lips, you did the same before tentatively touching your tongue to his, experimenting with the new sensation. 

Your brother's lips were warm and as the kiss deepened, you felt a fire ignite within you, spreading from your core to every inch of your body. Your heart was racing as Thomas's hand dropped down from your hair, tracing a path around your neck as he deepened the kiss once more before, suddenly,  he pulled away.

You stared at Thomas, your lips still tingling from the kiss. You could see a storm of emotions raging within his eyes, but you couldn't quite decipher what he was feeling. Was it guilt? Shock? Excitement? Pleasure?

"I am sorry Love, but I have business to attend to," he told you with a horse  voice, his breathing heavy and uneven from the kiss.

You nodded, trying to catch your breath as well. You could feel a blush spreading across your cheeks as you moved away from him, giving him some much-needed space. Thomas looked at you, his eyes heated with desire, before turning away and leaving the room without another word.

Even after he had left. a jolt of pleasurable heat still lingered on your lips where Thomas’s mouth had just been, you couldn’t believe what had just happened. Your stepbrother, fucking Thomas, he had just kissed you and you didn’t know if you should feel guilty about it or if you should be elated.

“You’re an idiot,” you muttered to yourself as you ran your fingers through your hair, still feeling dazed. Your mind was racing, replaying the image of Thomas kissing you, over and over again.

Your lips were still tingling from the contact, but the room felt cold and empty once he left, leaving you alone with your tumultuous thoughts.

You couldn't believe what had just happened. Thomas had kissed you. He fucking kissed you and you were the one that had asked him to do it. 

Tags:

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[illyrianbitch]

Back to Our Roots

Pairing: Reader x Azriel

Summary: With the Acheron sisters out of town, you and your family plan for a quiet night in— just like old times.

Warnings: drug use, just fun lil high times tbh. Az being a cute partner, Cassian and Reader being best friend and war strategy planning goals

Word Count: 2.3k

An installment of the Mirthroot Mini-Series

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 

As if she had sensed their arrival, Mor squeezed through your half-opened door and shut it swiftly behind her, wearing a sly smile that made Rhysand instantly still. 

“Heyy, guys.”

Rhysand and Azriel exchanged a look before bringing their attention to the blonde in front of them once more, her body angled awkwardly to block the entirety of your doorway.

“Mor,” Rhys said, eyeing her with a scrutinizing gaze, “Why do you look so guilty?”

She held his gaze for a moment, her mouth falling open slightly as she blinked. Then, she casted a glance to her side before giving a small sheepish smile “Because I am?”

Rhysand’s eyes narrowed even more. “Is that a question or an admission?”

Mor’s smile widened as she gave a small shrug. 

“Mor.”

Her eyes were brought to Azriel as he spoke, an expression on his face that mirrored that of Rhysands. His shadows hadn’t warned him of any imminent danger, hadn’t informed him of any threats. Yet Mor stood in front of him with a sense of suspicion he wasn’t able to read. 

She remained quiet, opting to raise a brow at him instead.

“Morrigan.”

Mor's smile faltered. "I had no part in this. It was their idea, I swear," she admitted.

Rhys dipped his chin slightly. "Whose?" 

"Y/n and Cass.”

Azriel had grown tired of the conversation, of the strange stalling Mor was attempting to do. The mention of your name snapped the last threat of his patience, and with a swift and determined movement, he brushed past Mor, his expression unreadable as he entered your home. Instantly, his shadows slithered along the walls and floors, guiding him unerringly toward you.

Mor trailed after him, her steps quickening. "Truly, I didn't realize how... well, you'll see," she called after Azriel, her voice echoing in the hallway.

It had been a long day. Azriel was looking forward to relaxing tonight, to spending time with his family in a way he hadn’t been able to recently, not when there had been so many concerns, so many threats to worry about.  Driven by his eagerness to see you, and a small growing fear that had nestled into his heart at Mor’s welcome, he paid little attention to the subtle noises drifting around him or the faint aroma that began to fill the air. 

It didn’t properly hit him until he began opening the dainty glass doors to your living room. 

As they swung open, Azriel was instantly hit by a powerful scent, his hand flying to his nose reflexively.  Earthy and woody, with a sharp edge that hinted at… skunk?

Azriel blinked.

He recognized this smell. It was one he knew deeply— one he hadn't encountered in what felt like centuries. Blinking rapidly, Azriel squinted to see through the dense cloud that enveloped the room, the air thick and difficult to breathe. With his vision obscured, he could barely make out the shapes on the ground before him. But quickly, through the haze, he discerned your and Cassian's forms, laying leisurely amidst the swirling smoke.

A smile tugged at his lips. 

From behind him, Azriel heard the shuffling of Mor and Rhysand as they entered the room, a strong cough following their entrance. 

Rhysand let out a whistle, walking to stand next to Azriel. “Damn.”

Despite the three new presences in your living room, neither you nor Cassian seemed to notice. The cloudiness of the room, now seemingly thicker than before, suggested to Azriel that you and Cassian were indeed on a completely different level than him and Rhysand– than Mor, as well, from what he could gather. 

You laid on the ground, your hair messily sprawled over your soft rug, eyes closed in bliss, a gentle laughter escaping your lips. Azriel could make out the movements of Cassian’s frame beside you as he mirrored your laughter.

"It's been like this for hours. I thought it would wear off by now," Mor murmured. 

Azriel turned his head to look at her, watching as she walked over to one of your bookshelves. She picked up a small container before turning around.

"I guess it's just... really strong?" Mor offered, her expression marked by furrowed brows and a hint of uncertainty. She offered the container towards Rhys with an extended hand. 

Rhysand grabbed it gently, examining it before giving it a light squeeze, the top popping off with a small sound. He brought it to his nose. Instantly, he recoiled with yet another small cough. 

“Gods, Mor. That is horribly potent.”

Azriel grabbed the container next, bringing it up to smell in the same manner his brother had. Faintly, he felt the cool slick of his shadows as they snaked up his body, a few around his arms, a few curling around his ears in curiosity, attempting to get a better look. The scent tickled his nostrils and he drew back, his shadows mirroring his movements as if the scent had, somehow, also hit them too. Azriel looked up through his brows, casting a quick glance over to where you laid.

“This has rootdust,” Azriel stated, holding up the container for emphasis. “Mor, this is basically all rootdust.”

Mirthroot was a tricky herb to work around. You and Azriel had your fair share of expertise, spending many of your younger years sneaking out into the mountains to smoke together. All of you dabbled, at some point,  with holidays spent at the cabin covered in smoke. You and Az had a habit of collecting as much rootdust as possible, a tradition of making the last smoke of the holiday the strongest one— a grand finish, you used to say. Azriel always loved it. But it had been years, and from what Az could tell, Mor wasn’t as skilled as she once was in recognizing the quality of what she was taking in.

“Oh,” Mor breathed out. “Well. I guess we got a really good deal then, huh?”

Rhysand let out an amused breath. “Are you telling me that Cassian and Y/n have been smoking the most highly concentrated part of mirthroot casually?”

“For hours?” Azriel added.

Mor sheepishly smiled once more, "Like I said– it was their idea," she responded, her tone laced with a hint of amusement.

With a thoughtful hum, Azriel turned away from Mor, his gaze now fixed on you. He made his way towards you, his shadows leaping forward eagerly, swirling around him like excited children. Within seconds, they reached your form, gently dancing around your body in movements that elicited soft giggles from your lips. Your eyes fluttered open slowly, curiosity flickering within them as you lifted your hands to watch the shadows playfully run along your hands.

Azriel watched as the realization dawned on you. With a sudden burst of energy, you sprang up from the ground, your eyes lighting up with excitement as you looked up at him. Cassian's head snapped back in surprise, his own grin widening as he caught sight of his brother. 

"Az!" you exclaimed with a big grin, a sheer joy evident in your voice that made his heart flutter. 

His gaze swept over the coffee table next to you, noting the scattered papers, remnants of ash, and the loose mirthroot nuggets. He let out a laugh at the array of snacks messily spread amongst the herbs, crumbs from what he could only assume were some sort of baked goods— cookies, his shadows informed him. Chocolate chip. He met your eyes again with a grin. 

"Hi, gorgeous," he greeted warmly. 

With a gentle ease, he made a move to sit down next to you, his movements accompanied by the subtle sound of his knees cracking in response. He lowered himself to your rug, leaning his back against the couch as you scrambled to reposition yourself, your movements slow and uncoordinated. Somehow you managed to settle yourself between his legs, pressing against his chest as he wrapped his arms around you. You craned your head to look up at him.

Azriel's gaze softened as he looked at your face, illuminated by a wide grin that stretched across your lips. Your eyes were narrowed and slightly puffy, a faint blush painted on your cheeks. Still gorgeous, Az thought, always so gorgeous. A shadow brushed over your cheek, moving to push back a stray strand of your hair. 

Cassian’s voice disrupted the moment in a small whine. "Hey, what about me?" 

In unison, both you and Azriel moved your heads to look at him, watching as Cassian’s eyes floated between you two. Just like you, Cassian’s eyelids were puffy and half-lidded as he held your stares.

Azriel let out a small snicker. "Hey,” he said.

“What?” Cassian's expression shifted into a frown. "Am I not gorgeous?" 

You gasped in mock horror, your body pushing up with the force of the sound. "You are so gorgeous!" you exclaimed earnestly.

Cassian seemed content at the answer, a small smile gracing his face. His gaze then shifted to Azriel, and you followed suit, both of you staring at him with eager eyes. The sight itself was more amusing than anything Az had seen recently, two of the most feared members of the Night Court staring at him like two curious animals.

Azriel flicked his eyes between the two of you, a smile playing at the corners of his lips. With a laugh-sigh, he looked at his brother.  "You're so gorgeous," he affirmed, his voice carrying a hint of amusement.

Cassian's gaze lingered on Azriel as he continued. "So gorgeous. If I didn't have her," he gestured towards you, then waved his hand casually, "Nesta would have competition, brother. I mean—"

 "Ah, suck a fat one, Az,” Cassian grumbled, pouting to himself as he leaned against the coffee table. “Can't take anything seriously."

Azriel grinned at the response, pulling you closer to his chest as you laughed, the sound caressing him with a familiar warmth. His gaze was pulled up as Mor and Rhysand approached the rug, both wearing amused smiles on their lips.

"We run late and you decide to have all the fun by yourself?" Rhysand teased, raising the container in his hand.

"Actually," Cassian responded, his voice carrying a hint of excitement, "Y/n and I were discussing some strategies."

Rhysand's amusement only seemed to grow at the comment.  "Strategies?"

Azriel felt your nod against him. 

With a grin, Cassian leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "For, you know, Koschei," he added, emphasizing the last word with a mischievous sloppy wink. Mor snorted at the sight, a laugh falling from her lips. 

Rhys glanced between Mor and Azriel.  "And?"

Cassian's grin widened, "And we solved it."

Rhysand's gaze returned to Azriel, whose eyebrows lifted in surprise, the corners of his lips turned upwards. "You did?"

Cassian leaned back, with a confident nod. "Ohhh yeah. Tell 'em, Y/n," he prompted eagerly.

You shifted into a new position, leaning sideways against Azriel, as you moved your gaze between all of them. Even the movement of your head was slow, sluggish, and Azriel wondered just how well you were able to see all of them considering how closed your eyes were. 

"Koschei is confined to the lake, right?" 

The room went quiet as you continued to move your gaze between your family, silence falling upon the group as they waited for you to continue. When a beat passed, Azriel met your gaze, understanding dawning in his eyes as he realized you were seeking confirmation. "Right, yes," he responded with a nod, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips as you grinned at him.

"So,” you paused, the grin spreading across your face, "what if," you continued, your voice tinged with excitement, “we just drain the lake?"

You and Cassian exchanged a look.

“What’s he gonna go without a lake?” Cass emphasized, “Nothing.”

“Exactly. And we get free water. We could make a pool.”

Finishing your sentence with a sound of content, you looked between everyone in the room. Cassian nodded enthusiastically, as if your combined strategy was the strongest plan he’d come up with in centuries. And he was really excited about that damn pool.

There was a sleek silence as your words were processed. 

And then Mor’s reaction came first.

"Oh my Gods," she exclaimed, laughter bubbling up as she covered her mouth in amusement. 

Rhysand and Azriel exchanged a knowing glance before Rhysand let out a bellowing laugh, the sound echoing across the room as he ran his hand down his face.

"That is," he managed to say between laughs, “The best thing I’ve ever heard.”

Azriel looked down at you with a smile that threatened to split his cheeks, small chuckles reverberating through his chest. 

You stared up at him, leaning your head closer to his. "Right?" you chimed in eagerly, seeking validation for your idea. “Right?’

He nodded, unable to resist leaning down to kiss your forehead tenderly. "Genius plan, my love," he praised softly. 

"I know," you replied with a satisfied grin.

With another laugh, Mor walked to her cousin and grabbed the small container from his hand, eliciting a small eyebrow raise in response. 

"For old times' sake," she declared with a grin. With a small groan, she settled down next to Cassian, nudging him to make room. She looked over her shoulder, "Maybe we can brainstorm how it was possible for you to accidentally send a love letter meant for Feyre to Cassian.”

Rhysand’s mouth dropped as he let out a small scoff.

"That happened once!" 

“Wait,” Cassian frowned. "That wasn’t for me?" 

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 

i wrote this while on mirthroot *cough cough* so ignore any typos

p.s i want to make an entire mirthroot series with fun one-shots just cause i luv the idea of the IC just getting time to relax and do silly goofy stuff like recreational drugs (i’m also a stoner so this is my territory 🙏🏻). should i? yes no maybe so (3/9 update: it has been created!! Read the Mirthroot Mini-Series

[euthymiya]

surprise visits — ft. gojo satoru

you like visiting satoru in roundabout ways. he likes taking you in his bed every chance he gets. it’s a mutually beneficial relationship sort of thing

before you read: fem reader ; reader wears makeup ; brother’s best friend gojo ; reader is geto’s younger sister (she is implied to use the last name geto) ; slightly forbidden love ; non curse au (gojo and geto are roommates) ; unprotected vaginal sex (but gojo pulls out) ; hand jobs ; very overdone tropes sorry

notes: you know what they say….blood runs thicker than water. and cum runs thicker than blood ;) (sorry)

Your brother would kill you if he found you like this.

Legs wrapped around a slender waist, hands curled with a fistful of sweaty hair, cheeks smeared with tears and mascara that’s kissed right off by swollen lips. He’d kill you a second time if he knew the slender waist, sweaty hair, and swollen lips belonged to his best friend.

“Missed me?” Satoru purrs, pressing a kiss to your jaw. You whimper as his cock sinks deeper into you, burying past your folds and nudging at a painfully sensitive spot. “You must’ve missed me real bad if you’re back so soon, sweetheart.”

If you were a good sister, you’d say you visit your brother for the sake of seeing him. You’d say you miss your kind, loving older brother, and you couldn’t bring yourself to wait any longer to see him.

The truth, however, is that you miss his best friend.

Satoru is good at keeping secrets—it’s a bit hard to believe at first, but evidently it’s true since Suguru doesn’t suspect anything. Never once, in all your time of visiting, has he questioned why you come so frequently and spend so many nights.

What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.

If he’s not aware that you sneak and spend nights curled under the sheets of his roommate who happens to be his life long, childhood, and only best friend, then who are you to break the news to him? And if Satoru doesn’t find it necessary to come clean, why should you question his judgment?

Suguru has always been protective. It’s what a good older brother should do. He’s particularly picky about men.

That one’s too dumb.

That one looks like he washes his face with a bar of soap.

That one definitely doesn’t respect his mother.

That one’s just ugly.

Suguru turns his nose at every boy you meet. Every one you start talking to. It’s hard to have a dating life when your brother is so overly protective, so high with his standards. It’s loving, of course, but difficult all the same.

It’s not that you just had to choose Satoru out of spite. It’s more like Satoru was right there, looking so good, talking so sweet, and being so gentle. At the right place at the wrong time. Just happened to be there, letting you rant about your brother’s meddling with a half-amused smirk and a slightly empathetic look.

Maybe Suguru is right, he’d murmured, stepping closer, maybe the little boys you find are undeserving.

One accidental heated kiss turns into countless stolen, and thrilling hidden pecks in hidden corners of the apartment. That quickly becomes not enough, and then you’re sneaking into his room to lock lips for as long as you’re brave enough to. It’s easiest at night, though, to eventually shed clothes and explore a little more than tongue and lips. His body is a lot more accessible to you in the comfort of his bedroom while your brother is fast asleep in a completely different room.

And so it begins.

An unbreakable habit of sorts. Satoru’s body becomes familiar—too familiar, in fact. One taste, and you can’t help but make the two hour commute every few weekends, dropping by your brother’s shared apartment with his friend under the pretense of being a thoughtful little sister.

Suguru, I brought groceries, you say, no more instant meals. They’re unhealthy.

Suguru, your place is in need of serious cleaning. You boys live like pigs.

Suguru, I missed you. I thought we could rewatch some movies!

One excuse after the other. One visit after the next. One trip to Satoru’s mattress again and again. And again.

“C’mon,” he drawls, pouting against your cheek before he licks a dark, mascara-mixed tear from the soft skin, “tell me how much you missed me. I missed you too, is that what you wanted to hear?”

“T-toru,” you whine, arching your back as his hips roll with a sharp thrust, fucking into you deeper. Harder.

“I do love when you say my name,” he chuckles, hand coming to tilt your face up and meet his eyes, “but that’s not exactly what I wanted to hear.

His hips slow, like a punishment. Like not giving him what he wants stops motivating him from taking you on his thick, swollen cock. You’re sure that’s not true—but he’s a ruthlessly stubborn guy.

“Missed you,” you gasp, nodding frantically, “missed you so much, okay? Please don’t stop.”

“Don’t stop? Sure,” he laughs, grunting as his pace picks up and your walls squeeze around him in response.

It’s filthy. His pre cum, your slick, the small beads of sweat. All of it rolls down your inner thighs in a sticky, wet mess that is purely obscene. Satoru stares down between your legs like it’s beautiful, though. Watches the push and pull of his cock in and out of your hole, disappearing and reappearing coated in your arousal and his.

“Fuck, baby,” he groans, “gotta get you a little place right by ours. So you can come over whenever I want.”

You tighten around him at that. He grins, laughing that sweet, boyish laugh that just makes him so attractive.

Suguru will just have to understand. Satoru is practically impossible not to fall for.

“You like that idea, huh? I can tell,” he says smugly, peppering kisses along your cheek, stopping just along the corner of your mouth. “I can feel you squeezing around me, you sweet little thing.

Satoru is like that—teasing and cocky on the surface, acting as if he isn’t just as desperate on the inside. Maybe even more. You can tell because he’s panting harshly against your mouth, impatiently bullying his cock past your folds and waiting for you to take the bait.

You do, of course. You turn and kiss his lips, earning a satisfied, almost relieved groan from him as he melts over you.

Your arms wrap around his neck, pulling his body closer, lips biting at his as he moans into your mouth. His rhythm is sloppy by now, cock aching as it glides against your walls, the friction building a pressure in the pits of your bellies together. It feels intimate like this, when his mouth is on yours and your eyes can meet at any given moment, when he can look down and see you take him and join your bodies, when you can wrap your arms around him and feel the flush of his heat against you.

It feels intimate. Close. Not like the other boys you’ve talked to. Maybe Suguru was right—maybe your taste in men has always been bad before this. Maybe you just needed to look a little closer instead of further.

“You know what I think?” You murmur against his ear, smiling as he shivers at the feeling of your hot breath fanning against the sensitive skin.

“What, baby?” He hums, panting as his hand wanders lower, finger slowly tracing along your belly, your waist, until finally finding its destination at your clit. “What do you think?”

You can hardly answer when he rubs circles into the sensitive nub, gasping with a soft whimper as he teases the bundle of nerves.

“I th-think…you’ve been sharing a place with the wrong Geto,” you whine. “It should be me.”

“Yeah?” He quirks his lips at the corner, “you want to share a place with me?”

“Yeah,” you pout, making him close his eyes and sigh shakily at the sight. He leans in and steals a quick peck at your swollen lips, jutted out in a sweet, adorable little frown. “You don’t want one with me?”

“God you drive me insane,” he groans, eyes closing shut and scrunching as his hips slam into you—sloppy and desperate now. “Fuck, you’re so tight, baby. So…so good.”

“Please Toru,” you beg, clinging tighter to him as your nails dig into his shoulder blades. Anything to ground you, to bring you closer to him—nails in his skin, legs around his waist, heels digging into the small of his back.

“Please what?” He says lowly, still teasing at your swollen clit, “use your words.”

“Please make me cum,” you plead, “m’so close.”

“Then cum, baby,” he murmurs against your lips before kissing them, slow and meaningful as he adds, “let me see you. C’mon.”

His hips roll once, twice before your hips buck into him, leaving the bed as you let out a choked sob. Your orgasm hits you in harsh waves—it’s hard to stay afloat with the way they drown you in pleasure. He’s unforgiving against your clit, still rubbing those harsh circles into it and working you through your high.

“Yeah, that’s it,” he groans, “fuck, you’re squeezing me, sweetheart. So t-tight—m’gonna cum.”

Satoru, unlike the guys you’ve heard about from your friends here and there, doesn’t fuck you for his own pleasure. He fucks you like he has something to prove. That he can take care of you.

Satoru holds himself back, jaw clenched and eyes screwed shut, labored breaths through his nostrils as he waits for you to finish, slowly fucking you through it.

Finally—finally, when you’re done, he pulls his hard, throbbing length out, hand wrapping around it as he strokes himself with a loud groan.

“Fuck,” he whines, “fuck, I’m close—sh-shit.”

He cuts himself off with a curse when you pry his hand away and replace it with your own, making his eyes rip open and stare down as your tinier hand takes the place of his much larger one. You can’t wrap your fingers around him completely—that sight alone makes him twitch in your hold.

You stroke him quickly, squeezing along the length as your fist glides down, right at the base of his cock. It doesn’t take long for him to come undone, the first few drops of cum coating your hand before they shoot in ropes with very twitch of his length. They spill onto your bare skin, against your lower belly, dripping along your inner thigh.

He watches, in a trance. Eyes hazy and fucked out but focused on the way his seed coats your skin.

“God,” he groans, “like that—y-yeah,” he praises as you work him along his orgasm.

Finally, once you’ve milked every drop out of him, he collapses over you, uncaring of the mess he’s now smeared along his own skin.

“How long do we have?” You murmur.

“Suguru’s back from work in an hour.”

“That gives us plenty of time,” you nod, your good hand stroking through his sweaty hair.

He perks up, brightening as he gives you an excited grin. “For another round?”

“To clean up and look presentable,” you glare.

“But we need a shower for that,” he winks, “we could—”

“I’ll use his bathroom. You use yours.”

Satoru flops back onto your chest, burying his face into your neck as he huffs in defeat.

“No fun at all,” he grumbles, earning a giggle from you as you kiss the side of his head.

Your brother would definitely kill you both if he was here right now.

I have to leave for work in 9 mins and I’m still in pj’s posting this. Lord save me I need priorities

[veilofwinter]

#SOMETHING UNEXPECTED

pairing: Dina x Ellie x Reader

tags: smut, fingering, MY LOVES

Life seemed average, a repeated cycle you could never seem to get out of. Bland, overused and average.

“YN, you need to get out more! All you do is work and sleep!” Jesse complains. But how could you “get out more” if the whole world was under attack by human beings infected by fungus?

“Jesse, m’not going out tonight. I gotta patrol early tomorrow, I don’t have time f’drinking.” You scoff, closing the book you were reading and placing it in the nearby nightstand. “You’re so boring, you never do anything fun.” He rolls his eyes and exits the room.

You never enjoyed parties anyways. You always felt like an outcast to this whole group of people, you were surprised they even let you stay this damn long. You had showed up out of no where and yet they let you in after a check for infection.

The day continued like usual. Eat, Work, Sleep, Repeat, and obviously the necessities. You groan as you awake, your hair bed head a lot messier than usual. You rub your temples as you exit the hard bed that was seemingly put together from sheets and scattered pillows found around.

You somehow found yourself assigned to early patrol with Ellie and Dina. It wasn’t that you disliked them, it was that you liked them a little too much. Somehow, they distracted you from your daily routine, always pulling you somewhere you didn’t need to be, forcing you to explore things you’d never explored. But today it seemed there was a lot of tension in the area. The snow not making it any better as the freezing air made the freeze of the silence grow thicker.

Silence engulfed the whole ride, until they approached an abandoned warehouse that had a harsh smell of weed. Inside a whole farm of it, just growing like nothing. “Hey hey, I haven’t seen this shit in forever.” Ellie says picking up a jar. “Does weed expire?” She asks turning to Dina, having finally spoken a word to each other. “I guess we’ll have to find out?”

A loud bang was heard, causing you to flinch as you turned to see that the snow had trapped all three of you inside the weed smelling warehouse. “God, I did not want this.” You roll your eyes, removing the gloves you wore. “Fuck…!” You kick something nearby. “Whoa there, it’s not that big of a deal, we can just stay here until it dies down. Then we can try moving the snow.” Ellie suggests, removing her coat and settling in a nearby couch.

You watch as Dina does the same, grabbing a lighter that seemingly still worked to light the joint they’d found in the jar. “This still hits.” Dina says with a small smile, passing the joint over to Ellie. You sigh, removing your jacket and looking around to search for another exit. “Hey, why are you so quick to leave? Live a little and come smoke this with us.” Ellie says, looking at you with her low eyes as the weed seemed to already be taking effect.

“I’m good, I don’t smoke. I didn’t smoke before either.” You roll your eyes, looking around once more, seeing that there were no other ways out. “Just come and sit down. It’s like you have a stick up your ass or somethin’.” Dina says, tilting her head to look at you. You groan, stomping over to them both and settling on the couch. “Here, I think ya need it.” Ellie giggles, egging Dina to do the same.

“I said I’m good.” Dina takes the joint, “Just one time, it won’t kill ya?” She takes a drag from the joint, blowing it into your face, causing you to retract. “Fine.” You finally give in, inhaling the smoke. You cough quickly, the biting sensation in the back of your throat lingering. “Okay what the hell?” You ask, hunching over to cough. “It’s fine, happens when it’s your first time. Try again.” Ellie helps you sit up, guiding the joint to your lips.

“When you inhale, inhale it slowly. So, it doesn’t hurt as bad.” Dina says softly, placing her hand on your thigh unconsciously. You flinch slightly, inhaling the smoke, letting it drape into your lungs slowly. Blowing the smoke into the air, you feel yourself becoming a lot more relaxed. “That was better yeah?” Ellie asks, watching you as she inhaled the joint and blows the smoke into your face.

“I guess so.” You say quietly, everyone feeling the effects of the weed. It hits you harder, your head spinning softly, your eyes getting heavier, and the stir between your legs becoming a lot more prominent. “Should we have another Dina? I’m not sure she can handle two.” Ellie says, looking at your slouched appearance.

You shake your head. “I’m good, I think.” You chuckle. Ellie nods lighting another, placing it between her thin yet plump lips. You watch her, your eyes entranced by the way her lips wrap around the joint. Dina slides her hand further up your leg, catching your attention. You turn to her, a smirk dawning her lips as she tilts her head to get a better look at you.

Ellie hands the joint over once more, this time leaning over you a bit more than usual. The feeling of her skin warming you up a lot more then you already were, her perky and uncovered breasts swaying in your face. You blush softly, your face tinted slightly. The thoughts that run through your head becoming unholy, but you blame it on the weed. Dina takes a drag, inhaling slowly. Suddenly she leans into you, your lips parting as she connects her lips to yours and exhales the smoke back into your lungs.

It was random, causing you to flinch softly. “Did ya like that? Or should I stop?” She slides her hand up your thigh further, her thumb gliding over your clothed cunt softly. Ellie watches, her eyes lingering over your figure. You look at Dina, the sinful thoughts running through your head starting to take over. “I-I don’t do this. I’ve never-“ Ellie silences you, putting the bud of the joint into the couch to let it burn out.

“We got you.”

Like usual, with Ellie and Dina you were doing something you didn’t usually do. Your legs spread open as Dina licked up the slit of your wet and dripping cunt. Ellie grips her hair, guiding her to eat you out just right. Your hands gripping the side of the couch as you whine and groan Dina’s name out into existence. Her arms wrapped around your thighs to keep your legs open as you shake, throwing your head back as she hits the spot that makes you tingle just right.

“Fuhh-ck!” Your head falls back off the couch, Dina’s fingers mingling with the hardened buds underneath your shirt. “Feel good pretty?” Ellie asks softly, looking down at you. You nod, droll pooling at your lips. Dina slides her finger into your core, your back arching into her as you fuck yourself with her fingers. “Fuc- Dina! Oh good-“ You grip the couch harder, the knot in your stomach growing tighter.

She eats you like it was her last meal, her eyes never leaving yours as she penetrates you with another finger. Ellie continues to guide her, hitting all the spots inside you just right. Her hands come down to your chest, running her thumb over the nipple as if she was admiring the way they bounced as you used Dina. “Yesyes.. right there!”

You grind against her face, feeling yourself become a lot needier. The high you felt earlier could never compare to this one. Her hands spreading you open just right, your eyes shut tightly. “Look at me hun.” She says softly, diving back into you as you open your eyes to look down at her. Ellie watches in awe at the way you open up to Dina’s fingers. “Oh shi- I’m gonna cum Din-“ Ellie suddenly moves Dina’s hand away.

You catch your breath, confused as to why she was depriving you. “I wanna turn too.” Dina rolls her eyes. “You could’ve at least let her cum first. I’m sure she can handle two orgasms.” You watch as they talk about you like you're not even there. “Okay then, think you can handle two pretty?” Your eyes pan to Ellie, nodding slowly as you lean back once more. “Good girl, see I told ya.” Dina says, sliding her digits back inside of you.

She decides not to start slow this time, her fingers using you quickly. “I wanna taste you c’mon.” You feel the high you were on coming back, your hands gripping her hair softly. Your eyes don’t leave her as Ellie leans back, watching the both of you as she waits patiently for her turn with you.

“C’mon hun, wanna taste your cum.” Dina speaks sinfully, causing you to fall over the edge. “Oh- cumming! Please!” You release on her fingers, back arching over the edge of the couch. Your legs shake as you orgasm like you never have before. She sucks softly on your sensitive bud, you whine softly. “Gotta take one more for Ellie, she wants a taste too hun.” Dina slaps your cunt softly.

You nod, spreading your legs once more. The adrenaline running through your body causing you to work against how sensitive you were. “Go in then you needy fuck, go get your fill of her before she changes her mind.” Dina slaps Ellie’s arm softly, wiping her face of your essence. Ellie leans in, kissing your stomach, kissing the inside of your thigh, then kissing your fold softly. “I can’t wait anymore.”

She suddenly licks, causing you to close your legs. “Ah Ah C’mon now. You keep ‘em open f’me do the same for El.” Dina spread your legs back open, leaning against Ellie. You whine, feeling sensitive as Ellie continues with her endeavor. She spreads your folds, sliding her finger inside to replace Dina’s. The length of her finger hitting a spot inside you that Dina didn’t hit before.

“Ah, wait! You- god!” You try to close your legs once more, but Dina slaps your inner thigh, holding them open. “Hey, stop it. You said you could take it so take it like a big girl.” Dina giggles, rubbing your inner thigh softly. You chant Ellie’s name, her fingers curling slighting inside you. You grip her hair, riding her face as if she were a dildo and you were a pornstar.

Dina feels her arousal pooling in her pants, sliding her hand down into her jeans as she touches herself at the sight of you. Your bottom lip I’m between your teeth as you groan, Ellie’s hair gripped in between your fingers. She enjoys the sight of it all. Ellie kissing your stomach again as she adds another finger, speeding up just enough to make you scream. “I’m- oh shit! Ellie please…!” You hold onto her wrist to keep her from moving away, riding her fingers and clenching around them.

“Gonna cum pretty, I wanna taste you as bad. S’not fair Dina got to try it first.” You whine, unable to speak. Dina throws her head back as she feels herself about to release around her own fingers. “Gonna cum together yeah? Cum with me YN.” She says breathlessly as she rides her own fingers. Ellie snickers, “ya just couldn’t wait could ya?” Diving back down to devour the essence about to release from you.

Your head spinning softly, your back arching, you ride her fingers until suddenly. You burst, cumming and squeezing around her fingers, your head falling back and your legs shaking like never before. “E-El oh Fuck! Yesyesyes!” You spread your legs more as she licks it all up, not leaving one drop of you behind. “Taste so good pretty.” She says quietly into your cunt.

Dina cums as well, her legs shaking as she slows down, circling her bud slowly. “Oh yes..” she leans back, pulling her hand out of her jeans. “Wanna taste?” She asks, leaning forward and placing her fingers into your mouth, allowing you to suck them clean. Your eyes low, the high still rippling through you.

“Let’s do this again sometime.”

I want them both so bad...

[janeyseymour]

Save Me Before I Lose Myself- part 9

Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 4. Part 5. Part 6. Part 7. Part 8.

Summary: Family court is a nightmare. But all nightmares come to an end.

WC: ~2.45k

You toss and turn all night, and when you finally fall into a fitful sleep, your alarm goes off. You already hate today. But still, you roll out of bed and head into your daughter’s room. She’s sound asleep, curled up with her favorite stuffed animal and snoring quietly. You take a few extra minutes, minutes you know you probably don’t have to waste, to just sit by your little girl and pray. You pray for a long life of just you and her finally finding your happiness. You pray that she never loses what small pieces of innocence she has back. You pray to God that you get her as far away from Carrie as possible- that maybe… maybe you find happiness in a new life with Melissa and Barbara to help you raise this sweet little gift from God.

Brushing a few stray hairs away from her face, you smile gently. God, Millie is perfect- there is not one thing you would change about her. Because even when it comes down to it, and she is a child who has her moments, Amelia has the biggest heart, the warmest smile, and the sweetest soul that could touch anybody who has the absolute blessing of meeting her.

“Millie Mill,” you whisper as you shake her shoulder gently. “Baby girl, it’s time to rise and shine.”

“Momma?” a sleepy voice almost whines.

“Yeah, sweetness, it’s Momma,” you chuckle. “Who else would it be?”

“Mel,” your daughter shrugs as she cracks an eye open.

“Well, I can smell breakfast being made downstairs, and I just woke up,” you chuckle. “Why don’t we go see what Mel is making?”

Your little girl sits up and rubs at her eyes sleepily, but then she does make for the kitchen.

Melissa, fully dressed and made up for the day, is standing by the stove making a spread that could feed three families, and Millie is quick to wrap her arms around the woman’s waist. “Melly,” she mumbles sleepily.

You see the redhead tense for a quick second before she relaxes and drops a gentle kiss to your daughter’s head. “Hey Mill.”

“Sleepy. I don’ wanna go to court today,” your daughter sighs.

Melissa grimaces slightly. “I know hun. But you gotta if you wanna stay with your momma. And Mel and Barb will be there for you too.”

“Auntie Barb,” Millie sighs softly, but just loud enough for both of you to hear. Both yours and Melissa’s eyes widen at that first word- that powerful word.

“Yeah, hun,” the redhead finally starts again. “Go sit at the table with your momma. Breakfast is almost ready.”

Your little girl comes and sits right in your lap, content to get in a few extra cuddles this morning. The teacher of the house brings over all of the platters and a fresh mug of coffee for you.

“Thank you,” you sigh quietly.

Melissa smiles at you. “Of course.” Breakfast is eaten in a stiff silence for the first time in a long time, and when it comes time to start getting ready, the redhead swoops in again. She takes Millie to get her ready while you prepare yourself for what you can only assume is going to be a long and hellish day of fighting for your little girl.

And then Barbara shows up in her own car and escorts you to the courthouse. The four of you find your way in and sigh.

Carrie fights. Carrie fights hard, and she fights dirty. She fully intends on throwing you under the bus and winning this fight.

Her first claim is that she is Millie’s biological mother. And that is a true fact. But your lawyer argues that you are just as much Millie’s mother as Carrie- your name is on that birth certificate too. Your lawyer argues that blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb in this case- you take care of Millie, not Carrie.

Then she tries to argue that you won’t be able to support your daughter fully financially. Your lawyer disputes that argument and states that finances wouldn’t be an issue for you because spousal support does indeed exist for this exact circumstance. He then looks to Melissa, who stands, much to your surprise. But she has a knowing look on her face, and you can only assume that she and her buddy had orchestrated for this to happen.

“Your honor,” Melissa starts, and she already sounds much more formal than you’ve ever heard her before. “Y/N and Amelia won’t have to worry about finances, as they haven’t been troubled in that area for the months that they’ve lived with me. There hasn’t been any support from Carrie since the separation, and I do believe that this side of the party has been just fine- better than fine. I am happy to continue housing them and help to ensure that Millie is taken care of.”

“Thank you, for that,” the judge raises a brow. It’s clear he’s considering what the redhead stated.

And finally, Carrie attempts to claim that Millie needs two stable parental figures in her life- that she and the new boyfriend (apparently you ‘turned her straight’) would be able to provide much better for her than just you. The judge’s brow goes up, but his lip quirks in a way that you see he is definitely leaning towards joint custody. Your lawyer glances to you, and then he stands.

“Your honor, I think that since this is in regard to the child’s wellbeing, we should have Millie speak.”

“Your honor, she’s seven,” Carrie’s lawyer points out.

“And seven is old enough to know who she should want to live with for a majority of the time- to keep her within the parameters of her school, where she is quite happy,” your lawyer objects.

“Very well,” the judge mutters. He clears his throat, and he calls Millie to him.

Your little girl has never looked smaller standing next to him.

“Hi, sweetheart,” the gruff judge turns warmer when addressing your child, and you are eternally grateful for that. “Millie, yes?”

Millie nods her head and squeaks out a “yes”.

“Can you tell me about the times when you lived with both of your mothers?”

Your little girl does. She details the typical day that the she lived- from waking up with you and giggling, to going to school with you, to you picking her up, she’d make dinner with you, you would read with her or watch television with her, it was you who would help her with homework, it was you who told her to get in the shower and start getting ready for bed, you were the one who tucked her in at night and read her a story.

“And… Millie, where was your other mother during all of this?” the judge cuts in softly.

Your little girl shrugs. “I dunno.”

“That’s not true, Mill,” Carrie tries to butt in, but the judge holds up a hand.

“That’s not the end of my days though,” your daughter says softly. When the judge prompts her to continue, she details how she would hear the berating at night, the slaps and pleas for Carrie to stop, the crashing of furniture and decor.

“And who was the cause of that?”

Millie doesn’t even say Carrie’s name- just points to her with a frown. “She hurt Momma. And she tried to hurt m-”

“Amelia!” Your soon to be ex-wife leaps out of her chair and points an accusatory finger. “You stop telling lies right this instant, young lady!”

“I- I’m not,” Millie whispers to the judge. “I promised not to lie, and I don’t break promises. That would be bad.”

“I believe you, honey,” the judge promises your daughter. “Can you tell me about the days now that you’re living with your Momma and Melissa?”

The day that your daughter details in regards to living with her teacher are much brighter- full of more love and smiles. She lets the judge know that she adores living with you and Melissa. Her days start with you waking her, Melissa cooking a delicious breakfast, driving to school with the redhead and singing songs, loving always having you pick her up on time, eating dinner together and actually enjoying meal times, bedtime… She tells the judge about the day she was sick, and Melissa stayed home with her while you went to work but when you came home she was given so much love. It’s clear to everybody in the room, including Carrie, which life Millie likes more.

“That sounds like quite a fun time living with Melissa,” the judge quips thoughtfully. “I have one more question for you.”

“Yes?”

“If you were given the choice of who to live with, who would you go to?”

Your daughter doesn’t even hesitate. “Momma and Melly.”

You feel Melissa reach forward and squeeze your shoulder gently from her place, but you also hear Carrie begin to shout. She flies off the handle and tells the judge that everything the little girl said was lies- orchestrated lies that you trained your daughter to say. 

The judge doesn’t like that one bit, and Carrie’s lawyer even tries to get her to simmer down.

“Mr. Judge, sir,” Millie whimpers quietly. “I- I don’t want to go to M-Mom and her boyfriend… I- I’m scared.”

The judge glances to Carrie, but at this point, she’s lost it. The woman that you used to call your life partner rushes to Millie and grabs her roughly by the arm. She begins shouting at her, shaking her, telling her that she is such an ungrateful little-

She’s torn away from the stand by one of the security guards and hauled out of the room, much to the dismay of her lawyer. He knows in that instant that he’s lost the case entirely. You’ve won. There’s no way she didn’t just put the nail in her own coffin with that little stunt. Millie, not caring that she’s supposed to stay side by side with the judge flies into your arms. You soothe her the best that you can as she climbs into your lap and buries her face in your shoulder. The little girl reaches for Melissa too, who very quickly leans forward and begins to shush your daughter gently, running her hand over Millie’s shoulder and wild locks.

The rest of what the judge has to say is a blur, but you hear the gavel slam down, and Millie, Barb, and Melissa are hugging you with such ferocity that you know you won. You have sole custody of your sweet ray of sunshine.

The next thing that you can clearly comprehend is being shuffled out of the courtroom and into the Howard van with Millie on your hip and smiling into your shoulder while Melissa holds your free hand gently.

“You won,” Melissa whispers as she pulls you in close and daringly presses a quick kiss to your cheek. “Congratulations, hun. I knew you would.”

The kindergarten teacher smirks at that action. But then she too is offering her congratulations, and you can’t help but grin.

“I’d say this calls for a celebratory dinner,” Melissa states. “Whatever the two of you want. Barbara, you’re more than welcome to come. Invite Gerald too.”

“Ger is gonna come?” Millie’s head lifts from your shoulder, and she smiles brightly.

Barbara, who was fully intending on heading home and leaving the three of you to have a ‘family’ night, can’t find it in her to deny your little girl of her wish. “Of course. Let me call Gerald now, and we can pick him up on the way.”

“What’s on the menu tonight?” the redhead asks the two of you.

“Whatever Mill wants,” you grin. “Whatever my little girl wants.”

“Melly, can you make your meatballs?”

The kindergarten teacher has to bite back a laugh at your daughter calling Melissa by the one nickname she’s always notoriously hated. “Yeah, Melly. Can you?”

“Sure, Barbie.”

Dinner is… it’s exactly what you had always hoped your life would be when you were growing up. You might not have the perfect spouse, or even a spouse at all anymore. But you have your beautiful daughter, one who is happier than ever. You have your family, and it may not be the conventional family- but they’re family. Barbara Howard, Gerald Howard, and Melissa Schemmenti are family to you more than your actual family. They’ve been here for you through the toughest of times, and they’re only going to continue to support you in life. It may not be the most conventional family, but it’s family. It’s an ordinary family dinner where everybody is a little drunk on happiness, and that’s all you could ever wish for- happiness.

It’s an early night for your little girl. She falls asleep on you not thirty minutes into settling on the couch, splayed out over you and Melissa. Barbara and Gerald make their way out once they’ve finished their glasses of the champagne that they bought the night before- they knew you would be celebrating today.

The redhead’s arm makes its way around your shoulders again, and you can’t help but rest your head on her shoulder. It’s warm, it’s comfortable, and it’s something that just feels so natural to do.

“I know I said it before,” Melissa sighs softly. “But congratulations.” She presses a soft kiss to your temple.

“I couldn’t have done it without you,” you tell her honestly. “I- I really don’t think I would’ve been able to have the courage without you by my side.”

“You would’ve,” the second grade teacher tells you quietly. “I know you would’ve.”

“Well,” you turn to look up at her. “Still. Thank you.”

You stretch up to kiss her cheek, and then you linger there for a few seconds. Her eyes meet yours, and then they glance down at your lips. You think she might kiss you, and your heart begins to beat out of your chest.

But she doesn’t. Melissa knows that today left you rather vulnerable, and she doesn’t want to take advantage of you in this state. If she does ever make her move on you, she wants you to be stable and healed, and ready. And right now, you aren’t ready. And that’s okay for her. She’ll wait.

She smiles warmly at you before looking down at the little girl asleep in your laps. “I think this could be the perfect start to your new life.”

“This is all I could ever want,” you whisper. And then you close your eyes, and you drift off into the easiest sleep you’ve gotten in years. 

AND THAT IS A WRAP ON THIS FIC- I HOPE YOUSE ENJOYED IT! Theres definitely a possibility of this little world continuing on, but for now... that's all folks!

Tags: (and let me know if you want to be included!): @schemmentis @thesapphictimelady @marvel210 @itisdoctortoyousir @morgana-larkin @doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou @marvels--slut @sweetcheeksschemmenti @megamultifandomtrashposts @lemz378 @http-sam @melissaschemmentisbranzino @imaginesmultifandoms @sexysapphicshopowner @lilfartbox1 @maybe-a-humanbean @imlike-so-gaydude @a-queen-and-her-throne @notinmyvocab @melanielaufeyson @dvrkhcld @cosmichymns @sasheemo @m1lflov3rrr @ricejucie @temilyrights @emilynissangtr @squinnchy @dopenightmaretyphoon @emeraldoceansstuff @shinyfaerielights @blkmxrvel @marvelwomenrule

[foreverlittlesoshi]

i mean camaraderie

noah sebastian x reader

content warning: smut, rough / harsh sex, belly bulge, size kink, fingering, noah is pretty much just a pleasure dom honestly

word count: 1.6k

MINORS DNI 18+

The loud sound of the front door being slammed let Noah know immediately you were in a bad mood. Must’ve been pretty bad he thought to himself and let out a sigh as he could hear you screaming into a pillow since the apartment walls were thin. 

He made his way to your bedroom door, knocking lightly and waited for an answer. The sound of your mumbling made him nervous but he just wanted to check on you and made sure you weren’t gonna destroy your vocal cords from screaming so much.

“WHAT?!” “Woah, what’s wrong?” He asks, raising his hands in defense and you immediately feel bad. “I’m sorry, the date was just-ugh.” you explained and he just chuckled.

“Was it really that bad?” You couldn’t help but start ranting about how the dude was a complete narcissist misogynistic asshole even though you tried so hard to deal with it to get a quick fuck. You didn’t even hesitate to complain about how badly you needed it because it was ovulation week and it was killing you.

“Are you serious?” he scoffed, “You went out with a complete stranger when i was here the whole time?”

He wasn’t wrong. Everyone could just smell the sexual tension between you two, even past boyfriends or girlfriends and hell, even flings could. It would be a lie if you denied ever thinking about him in that way but you always pushed those feelings aside so it would never be awkward. Fuck, why did he have to be so attractive? 

“You’re so fuckin lucky that i need dick so badly or else i’d turn you away.” You tell him as you grabbed him and pulled him into your room, slamming the door shut. Hopefully Jolly will come home late tonight. A rough kiss makes you moan softly, his large tattooed hand holds your face, and he tilts your head slightly trying to kiss you deeper as his tongue enters your mouth. Pushing him down on the bed, knees buckling as you sat on his lap and could feel him getting hard. 

“Damn,” he breaks away from the kiss, “You weren’t lying.” Whining at him as you kiss him again, Noah then gently tugs at your hair causing you to pull away and let out a sigh of pleasure. “So fuckin needy for my cock, aren’t you?” 

“Don’t start talking like that.” Breathlessly telling him, grinding on him to feel some type of friction. “Awww, why not?” his taunting didn’t help, tugging again while his other hand trailed under your dress. “ Because I’ll cum way sooner than I plan to.” You informed him and tugged at his hair causing him to hiss as his eyes closed from the pleasure. As much as he knew this probably didn’t mean much to you besides a quick fuck, he couldn’t help but think of it much deeper. Was it because he always felt something more for you or was it because of how fuckin cute you looked in that short red & black velvet dress?

Removing each of your hands from each other, you reached behind to unzip the dress and let it fall around your hips. Your mind is blank as he pushes you onto your bed, removing your clothes and pulls you into another kiss, softer but still passionate. Feeling his hands and fingers roam your body makes you shudder as he pulls away. Noah settled himself between your legs, running a finger along your slit and rubbing his thumb in circles on your clit. Hips and knees are buckling from just the tiniest bit of stimulation, both of you groaning at the sensation of his finger sinking into you and just taking in the feeling of his finger, thicker and longer than your own and reaching places you couldn’t. 

“Fucking hell, Noah.” your voice sounded like you were on the verge of crying. If you were already this fucked out from his finger how were you gonna be due to his dick? He rested his other hand on your right thigh and squeezed, trying to help you back down to earth but with him entering another finger didn’t help and it just caused you to go more light headed as he pumped them.

“Hey, don’t go dumb just yet.” Shivering as his hand touched your cheek, eyes fluttering open and kissing him. 

“Please just fuck me. I can’t stand this anymore.” Begging him as he pulled away and he lifted himself up to tug off his shirt. You couldn’t help yourself as you caressed his chest, lightly dragging a finger to trace some tattoos and the sight of his bulge making you whine.

As he removed his boxer, you weren’t expecting him to be so big. I mean you had thought it was but actually seeing it made you anxious. It was actually pretty and didn't look like a mushroom wearing a skin hat.

“You plan on using lube?” He laughed at your question. “I’m serious. You’re the biggest I’ll probably ever take or have.” 

“C’mon, I’ll fit.” You just scoffed. 

“Let’s test it real quick then. Get up here.” He shrugged then positioned himself between your legs and lined his size against your stomach. Right at your navel was his tip, precum dripping right in your belly button and it made you whimper again.

“Noah, I don’t know about this.” “How about this, just the tip and it’s up to you when you can take more?” It shouldn’t be surprising that he was being thoughtful but it made your heart swell with how understanding he was. “Deal.”

He gave you a quick peck before letting his spit fall directly on your hole, shivering at the feeling of the warmth and feeling his tip run through your folds, his tip slightly pushing into you and already feeling the pain. Digging your nails right into his forearm and you could feel yourself break his skin but you didn’t mean to, it’s not like you expected him to be this fuckin big. He just rested there while you did your best to relax and get used to the feeling.

“You know what?” You groaned out. 

“What?” He was worried you changed your mind about the whole thing.

“I’m probably gonna regret this but just go balls deep.” “Are you sure?” Absolutely not but it’s just better to get this pain over with.

“Yes please.” 

Just the feeling of him pushing himself just a little bit more in made you feel so like you were genuinely being split in half so when his pelvis met your own, your head fell back against the pillow and felt so full. 

“Are you still with me?” “Mhm, just please fuck me now.” The feeling of pleasure taking control over you again. 

“Whatever you want princess.” Not even looking at him, you could hear the smirk in his voice and you almost snapped back at him until he pushed your knees near your head and it caused you to literally scream. 

The way he angles his hips makes you feel the merciless rhythm,  deciding today was a good day to try and completely obliterate your cervix. You could feel the tears streaming down your cheeks, brain feeling so fuzzy and Noah clouded any thought you could form. He couldn’t help but feel proud of himself. The way you looked as you got fucked stupid made you look so beautiful. The way your hair was disheveled, face flushed, eyebrows furrowed with pleasure and the little whines of his name leaving your lips. His eyes trailed down your body, the little bump that would appear as he thrusted into you made him want to cum right then and there.

“Wanna feel something?” You nodded weakly. 

Feeling his hand guide yours to your belly and you could feel the bulge of his cock from inside of you.

“Noah.” is the only word you could whine and for some reason, that awoke something in him. He pulled out then flipped you over and slammed back into you, hips slamming into your ass at a bruising force and honestly thought you could feel him ever deeper than before. His moans sounded so guttural at first but as he got closer to finally cumming, he got so whiny and you couldn’t help but have a slight thought that he was so cute.

 “How can you still be so tight? Please tell me you’re close? I’m about to cum. Oh f-fuck,I’m gonna cum. Please cum first.” 

Hearing him whine made you clench around him tighter as you finally came, screaming and crying out his name.Noah then pulled out and flipped you onto your back again making you overstimulated as he leans down into the side of your neck,he slams into you one more time before his hips finally stutter and feel him paint your inside with his cum as he bites your neck harshly causing you to let out one final moan. 

Even with the cloudiness in your brain, you still felt Noah lift himself up, an audible pop could be heard as he slid his cock out of you and the stickiness of the mix of cum leaking out made you cringe just a bit.

“Don’t make that face.” His chest was heaving, “Honestly, it’s hot.”

You weakly chuckled at him,” You’re not wrong but i’m already sweaty as fuck so this just makes me feel gross. Also, you’re a fucking dumbass.”

“Hold up, I just gave you the best dick you could’ve ever imagined and you’re insulting me?”

“I am because I didn’t think you would actually cum in me. I told you during my ranting that I was ovulating!” You remind him as you lightly slapped him.

“You act like we can’t go get the morning after pill.” He tells you.

“I don’t think I can walk because of you. So get your ass moving.” Groaning as he stands up and pulls his boxers back on then gets dressed. “Fine but I expect some cuddles when I get back.” 

“Of course.” 

A/N - this took me over a day to finish because fuck walmart also if it's not clear, yeah jolly didn't come home.

by the way, i based the height of the reader on myself since i’m 4’10 but obviously this could go for any height since noah is 6’3

[zeroeightzeroone]

perfect - bang chan

genre: fluff

pairings: idol!chan x fem!reader, married couple

note: supposed to be studying for midterms part 1 but instead whipped this up

wc ~1.8k | moodboard

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ｡ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:

it's around three in the morning when you start to stir, a feeling in your gut unsettling you as you toss and turn. beside you, your husband stirs at your abrupt movements. his eyes slowly flutter open, watching you as you move closer to him, hiding your face in his side. he chuckles and nudges you, your head popping out from where you've buried it to meet your husband's sleepy gaze.

"you move too much," chan comments playfully, his voice husky and accent thicker than usual due to his grogginess, "come on this side, let me cuddle you facing this way"

you think about it for a moment before you're on all fours and crawling over chan's legs, pulling the blanket up and over your body as he waits with his arms open. he engulfs you in his arms, pulling your body flush against his, and the warmth emits a sigh from him. naturally, your arms drape over your husband's waist underneath the sheets as you nuzzle into his hold, his fingers mindlessly playing with your hair.

"go back to sleep... sun isn't up yet," he whispers, his voice muffled as his lips are pressed to the crown of your head, "too early."

you blink, still too tired to really process anything. chan gently pinches your arm, your head shoots up, and you narrow your heavy eyes at him.

"sun's not up, you shouldn't be either," even half asleep he loved to tease you, "sleep, my love."

you pause for a moment, blinking another couple of times as you try to pinpoint why you woke up feeling uneasy. you're about to open your mouth to confide your feelings to chan when there's a faint knock on your bedroom door.

the both of you crane your necks to look towards the door, chan making the extra effort to prop himself up on his elbow. you wonder if you're both just hearing things when you're just staring at the door for a moment but the knob jiggles. the both of you watch as the knob turns halfway in the moonlight, turning back and then turning fully as the door is slowly pushed open. the door opens just enough for your little girl, who's barely over a hundred centimetres, to pad barefoot into the master bedroom.

"mama, papa," she says quietly, almost a whisper.

"minsi baby," you call over to your daughter, noticing how she's pouting, "what's wrong?"

the toddler shifts on her feet, her small hand gripping the ear of her wolf chan plushie while her opposite hand rubs at her sleepy, half-lidded, glossy eyes. you and chan are sitting up at this point.

"come here, honey," chan beckons his little girl over while you wave her over with your hands.

minsi toddles over to her father's side of the bed, her arms moving up slightly as she waits for chan to carry her onto the bed, the plushie bobbing around in her hold as he lifts her off the floor and into his lap.

she sits in chan's lap, and you both jump into action. chan's hand moves to brush her dark, sleep-tangled hair out of her face while your hand moves to her cheek, your thumb gently wiping away the tearstains. the sight of your distressed little girl awake at three in the morning convinces you that must have been the reason you woke up feeling uneasy. there's still a pout on her lips and she avoids the gaze of both her parents. both of her hands now hold wolf chan to her chest.

"what's wrong, angel?" chan asks in a soft, gentle tone.

the both of you noticing how her bottom lip trembles.

"bad dream," minsi mutters, her voice cracking at the end and the sound brings an ache to both yours and chan's hearts, "scary monsters."

she shakes her head, sniffling.

"minsi doesn't like monsters," she explains, her eyes blinking quickly.

"oh my minsi baby," you coo, your hand moving to lay over both her small ones on her plushie, squeezing in a comforting manner, "don't worry; the monsters aren't real."

she nods.

"mama and papa will protect you from the monsters, nothing bad will happen to you," chan rubs her back.

your little girl stays quiet momentarily, sniffling several times, pouting her lips, and knitting her eyebrows together. she slowly raises her head, and her glossy brown eyes look between you and chan.

"minsi sleep with mama and papa?"

you and chan nod, smiles on your lips.

"of course angel."

minsi's sleepy, teary eyes blink excitedly, "really?"

you push the covers down, scooting away from chan and patting the space between you two. a lopsided, toothy smile on her face as she hurriedly crawls off her father's lap and situates herself in the space between you both. both you and chan slide down the mattress and lie next to your little girl, sandwiching her. as you wrap your arms around minsi, chan pulls the covers up enough that it doesn't cover the toddler's face. you both place a gentle kiss on the girl's forehead.

"sleeping time," you hum, and minsi nods, squeezing the plushie in her hold.

the room falls quiet; the only sounds filling the room are the light and quiet breathing from you, chan and minsi. the toddler shifts between you two, seemingly trying to find a comfortable sleeping position. eventually, minsi stops squirming and you both assume she's fallen asleep until her voice breaks the silence.

"papa?" she calls out quietly.

chan, who was just about to slip into slumber, hums in acknowledgement, "yes, my angel?"

"minsi wants papa to sing me to sleep," she says, looking at her father with a glimmer of hope in her glossy eyes.

"i like that idea, angel," you mutter sleepily, piggy backing on your daughter's suggestion, "what do you want papa to sing?"

she hums and shrugs, "dunno, just want papa to sing."

chan feels his heart warm from his little girl's words.

ever since minsi was born, she had found comfort in chan's singing. it was during the first few months home from the hospital that you both discovered that chan singing could calm down your daughter, who had awoken in the middle of the night and began fussing. the melodic sounds of his voice would hit your newborn daughter's ears, and her cries would slowly turn into whimpers and then hiccups as she eventually fell back asleep in her crib or in the arms of her parents.

during the nights when minsi would wake up, fussing in the early hours of the day, you both learned that chan humming a melody didn't cut it for her. if chan didn't start belting out some words, minsi would only continue to cry until he did. the nights where you learned and experimented with your daughter's preference for chan's singing over his humming, your husband would joke that minsi took after you.

since the early stages of your relationship with chan, you found immense comfort in the sound of melodic and alluring vocals. but you would argue that as a member of a famous idol group, many people shared the same sentiments that you did. however, your newborn baby girl proved pickier and more adamant that her father sang to her. now minsi is a little over three years old, and she loves to hear her father hum, but she still prefers to listen to him sing.

you hypothesized that your baby girl found comfort in her father's singing voice as he sang to you while you were pregnant. chan would admire your growing baby bump, talk to the little bean inside, hoping they could hear him, and sing you and your unborn baby to sleep.

throughout chan's career as an idol, singing, dancing, performing and producing, he's had many moments where his talents were praised on many levels and he felt like his years of hard work really paid off. many of those moments were some chan considered to be highlights of his life, his biggest accomplishments and his number one would change as time went on. but when minsi was born and he discovered he was able to calm his little girl down by merely singing to her, he felt like no daesang or award could beat how accomplished and awarded he felt in the moments when his baby girl's ear-piercing cries would quiet down to little hiccups as she was soothed by his voice.

this is his little girl, his baby. his daughter that has his eyes and lips, your nose, face shape and smile, a perfect harmony of the both of you. chan's little girl that felt like everything would be okay as long as she heard her papa sing.

chan adjusts how he's laying on the bed so he's not singing directly into minsi's ear. meanwhile, your eyes are closed when you feel minsi shift beside you. she moves the blanket lower so it isn't covering wolf chan's face, almost like she wants her plushie to listen to chan sing as well, her tired eyes look at her father expectantly. behind your closed lids, you can picture how your baby's whole face lights up when chan's angelic vocals fill the room.

"i found a love, for me," minsi gazes up at her father as he sings, "darling just drive right in, and follow my lead. well, i found a girl…"

chan looks down slightly, and his eyes meet his daughter's, her big brown eyes peering up at him as she tries to fight off her tiredness, but her eyelids flutter closed slowly.

he pauses the song momentarily as he whispers, "sleep my angel."

his eyes drift over to you lying on your side beside minsi, your hair splayed around on the pillow like a halo, an arm underneath the pillow and your other arm draped over minsi's small body. even though you're asleep, he notices how your hand moves to pat minsi gently on her arm periodically.

the action, paired with chan's singing, lulls your little girl to sleep. her eyes flutter closed as she breathes softly.

"beautiful and sweet," he smiles at the sight of his two girls, "i never knew, you were the someone waiting for me."

chan continues the song, singing with his eyes closed, almost lulling himself to sleep. at one point, he starts mumbling the words as he slips in and out of slumber.

around the halfway point of the song, chan's heavy eyes open as his head rolls to the side. his tired eyes drifting between the two angels sleeping beside him, his two angels.

chan continues to sing softly as he uses his palm to gently swipe the strands of stray hairs that had fallen over minsi's forehead, a deep sigh coming from the toddler. he looks at the wolf chan plushie in his daughter's arms, poking the plush face of the toy. chan moves his hand to cup your cheek, gently caressing your cheekbone before he tucks the hairs falling in front of your face behind your ear, knowing how much you dislike feeling your hair itching at your face while you are asleep.

his arm drapes over minsi's body, and his hand rests on your hip over the comforter. holding his life in his arms. even though you've been together for years and given him the gift of your precious daughter, chan is still in disbelief that he can call you two his, his wife and his daughter, his family.

"i see my future in your eyes."

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[harmonictechnicality]

Steve wakes up around three or four in the morning almost every night. He’s always careful getting out of bed. Small movements, slow footsteps. Minimal bones cracking. Doesn’t want to wake Eddie. Not that he needs to be this careful because his boyfriend could sleep through several natural disasters (and if someone bothered to wake him in this scenario, he’d put an impotency curse on them or some equally fucked-up shit). 

But that’s one of the reasons why they work. Not because of the sad-dick curse thing. They just exist on different sides of the scale. The raging insomniac and the deepest sleeper known to mankind. It balances out in the weirdest possible way.

Still… he’s always careful. Can never be too careful.

Steve doesn’t really do much when he wakes up at this ungodly hour. He sort of walks around their duplex, drinks a glass of water, opens a window to breathe in that pre-sunrise air. It fills his lungs up differently than normal air. At least, it feels like it does.

Like less people are breathing it in. Like he can take up space without feeling selfish. The logic doesn’t really add up but whatever. Concepts like logic and science are overrated at four in the morning.

After another lap around the place, he slides back into the covers, drapes an arm over Eddie’s waist. His t-shirt is rumpled up to his chest, so Steve is met with linen-warm skin. His fingers curve into Eddie’s sides, pulling himself closer. 

Steve yawns, breathing out all of his pre-sunrise air. Inhales the scent of his boyfriend instead. Smiles like an idiot into the pillow because it’s totally a fair trade.

And Eddie… well, he doesn’t even budge - doesn’t even stir when Steve settles in next to him. He just continues to wheeze through his nose, mouth slightly open. Not quite a snore, but Steve will probably tease him about it in the morning regardless. 

This right here. This makes Steve’s shitty sleep cycle worth it.

The sun pokes through the window blinds. Eddie pokes Steve’s cheek. Too much poking going on for Steve who definitely didn’t get enough sleep, per usual.

“You got up last night.” Eddie mumbles, still lazily poking him. 

“How’d you know?”

“Bed felt different.”

Oh. The way Eddie says it. A crash of honesty. His voice sounds weathered, unused from sleeping. Barely awake. It sort of hits Steve’s heart like a crime he didn’t even know he was capable of committing. 

Honestly, he doesn’t get why last night would be any different. Steve gets up most nights, not just last night. But Eddie looks particularly wounded by this (new) realization, so Steve probably shouldn’t point that out right now. Maybe in the afternoon when Eddie is more alert. Less… offended.

“Well, I’m back now.” Steve grabs Eddie’s index finger, the one poking him, and places it over his own lips. Bites at it gently till Eddie pulls away in protest. He’s smiling as he swears. Lets out a string of half-hearted threats about how he’s gonna pour Steve’s hair supplies down the sink for such a vicious attack. 

It’s a little irresistible when Eddie gets like this. When he’s the pouty one instead of Steve. All he can think to do is reach out, curl his hand underneath Eddie’s chin and pull him in. Eddie moves so easily, gives up his one-sided fight long enough to kiss Steve. Hands running up his back, legs hooking around Steve’s thighs.

Drowsy, morning kisses are so good. So, so good. Their lips feel heavier, their motions feel thicker. Every touch is guided by pure need. Steve fucking needs this, to feel Eddie curving into him, arms framing his own, groaning every damn time they break away. It all makes Steve feel needed too. Needed by the guy who changed the trajectory of his life by asking Steve to ‘hang out or something’ two years ago. 

Or Something turned out to be absolutely everything.

“New rule.” Eddie huffs, drags his lips down Steve’s jaw. “For every hour you spend awake during the night, you owe me.”

Steve laughs. “I owe you, huh?”

“Mhmm. You owe me an extra hour of wallowing in bed together in the morning.”

“What about work?”

“The hours will have to rollover, I guess. Accrue interest.” Eddie lifts up from Steve’s neck, eyebrows raised. Clearly having too much fun with this. “We can hash out the details over coffee and burnt toast.”

Typically, Steve would play along, continue the little comedy routine that Eddie starts up. But he’s so damn tired from the lack of sleep and early fucking wake-up call. So instead, he tugs Eddie back down by his collar and whispers, “Whatever you say, baby.”

Because that’s what it boils down to. He’d do anything for Eddie to kiss him this deep, till their lips blister and their jaws ache. Steve would give every fragment of lovesick happiness in his heart, just to hear the way Eddie says his name all breathy and raw. 

He can’t say that out loud, dear god no. Eddie would mock his ass into next century. So Steve just hums into Eddie’s mouth, twists the collar of his shirt enough to permanently wrinkle it. They’re verging into that gray area between cable-approved makeout sessions and dry humping till the alarm goes off. If there wasn’t an alarm to worry about, Steve would already have Eddie’s boxers already his ankles and moaning his name the way he likes it best.

Whoever invented alarm clocks are the ultimate boner-killer.

Steve ducks his head into the crook of Eddie’s neck, lays a few quick kisses on top of his shoulder. Hopes that translates to, ‘I wanna suck you off till there’s nothing left, but I’m a boring fucking adult with a boring fucking job.’ 

The translation must be clear enough because Eddie rolls off of him and heads to the bathroom. Seems just as grumpy about it as Steve. Good. They can be cranky together.

When he comes back out, they get ready for their respective work shifts. Steve looks over, watches Eddie struggle with a tangled portion of his hair, before giving up.  Accepting defeat way faster than Steve ever would. “Uh, Eddie?” He tries his best to hide his snickering through the question.

“Yeah?”

“Why does it matter if I wake up sometimes?” Okay. Most times.

“You’re gone.” Eddie shrugs. “Simple as that.”

The reaction is too mellow for Eddie though. Shrugging and dismissiveness? Nah. He’s downplaying the shit out of whatever he’s feeling, and Steve’s not having it.

“What do you mean it’s simple?”

“It’s just… I don’t know. Doesn’t seem fair.” Eddie checks the clock, then sighs. “I want more time.”

More time? More time with Steve or more time in general? Either way, it doesn’t add up. They’re young - they have all the fucking time they could ever want. Also, they live together and have all the same friends. It’s not exactly a logical theory.

Then again, neither is Steve’s ‘pre-sunrise air supply’ theory. None of it makes sense. But at least they’re here. Wanting fresh air and each other. That’s enough logic for a lifetime.

“Hey.” Steve walks over and takes Eddie’s hand. He taps over his ring finger, the one that symbolizes something they can’t have. Not now, not in this society. Still. It means something. So he stares intently at it, rubs over the place where a ring might sit. Thinks that Eddie would pick out something bold. Something gaudy and perfectly him.

More time. Steve gets it, he does. He releases Eddie’s hand and nods. Smiles.

“I’ll steal us as much time as I can, Eddie Munson.”

[hopelesslygaysstuff]

pairing: wanda maximoff x fem!reader

summary: While shooting a movie with the infamous Wanda Maximoff, you start to fall for her. The lines between reality and acting blur together as you enter into a publicity stunt relationship, and you try to save your heart from breaking.

content warnings: angst, fake relationship, but a happy ending! Also TW for religious trauma, specifically homophobia within the Mormon church.

word count: 6.8k+

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Original Request

comments and reblogs are always appreciated! happy reading ♡

Reality

The first time you lay eyes on Wanda Maximoff, you knew your life would never be the same. Her green eyes pierced through the chaotic atmosphere of the audition room, a group of people you assumed were her team surrounding her as she walked into the larger room off to the side, where the actual auditions were being held. 

You watched her go until her silky auburn hair faded from view, the door shutting firmly behind her, and sucked in a large breath. It felt like the air was simultaneously lighter without her heady presence, and thicker at her absence. You made up your mind then and there to try your very best at this audition. 

Deep down, you knew that the privilege of knowing Wanda Maximoff would be the insurmountable victory of your life, and you steeled yourself. 

“Damn,” Someone said, and you frowned as the room erupted in nervous laughter. Looking around, some people seemed starstruck, while others looked absolutely terrified. You understood why, nobody had told you that one of the most famous actresses in the country would be showing up at the final round of auditions today, but you could understand the reasons behind their secrecy. 

Mentally running over the lines you knew you’d forget the second you were in the presence of the most exquisite woman you’d ever seen, you manually slowed your heartbeat, breathing in slowly while you calmed your nerves. 

You couldn’t fuck this up. 

Someone called your name, and you stood, the movement feeling almost robotic. Blinking a few times, and shaking off the stubborn nerves that raced through your already sleep-deprived body, you smiled slightly at the people around you. They all offered small, encouraging smiles, but you could see the hunger behind their eyes. The need to succeed, to be better than everyone else in the room. The need to win. 

Shivering again, you reminded yourself that although it was a competition, it didn’t matter if you didn’t get the role. As long as you tried your best, that was enough. Then you remembered the woman waiting on the other side of the door, and a fierce wave of something rushed through you. 

Walking into the room, you kept your back straight, hoping to at least act like you were confident. That crumbled the moment you locked eyes with Wanda, the green of her irises imprinting themselves into your mind as you formed an awkward smile. 

“Alright,” A mousy-looking man clapped his hands, the illustrious eyes that had sought yours now focused solely on him. You never wanted to kill a man as desperately as you did now. Instead, you turned your head, shaking the cobwebs of gay panic from your mind as you forced yourself to focus. 

“We’re going to start with page twelve, scene two. A seat has been provided,” The man gestured towards the front of the room, and you glanced over. A single booth, about six feet long, was sitting innocently in a spotlight. It reminded you of your childhood, images of hot sticky Sundays clawing their way to the surface as you swallowed harshly. 

Missing the glance Wanda sent your way, her brows furrowing slightly at the distant look in your eyes, you jerkily made your way toward the seat. 

The words of a forgotten Sunday worship wormed their way towards your ears, murmuring things like ‘sinner’, ‘abomination’, and ‘unworthy’. The words suffocated you, visions of a church meeting hall flashing before you as you sat down on the familiar seat. 

Your fingers grazed the fabric, and you realized that they must have acquired an actual seat from some random Mormon church, and you fought the bile that rose. 

“I don’t believe I’ve introduced myself,” A soft voice filtered through your thoughts, clearing your mind instantly. 

Looking up, your face flushing, you could only stare silently as Wanda sat beside you. Embarrassment welled up, knowing that the woman had probably witnessed you get lost in the past, but she gave no indication that she’d seen anything, holding out her hand. 

“I’m Wanda,” She said, a genuine smile brightening her face. Her eyes searched yours, seemingly imploring you to take her hand, and you did. 

You were happy that you didn’t stutter as you gave her your name, surprised when Wanda repeated it back to you, the syllables forming into something beautiful when she spoke. 

“Be honest,” She leaned in, eyes sparkling with your hand still firmly grasped in hers. “How nervous are you?”

The faint scent of vanilla encircled you, a haze threatening to pull your focus away, but you remained steadfast. Not wanting to miss a single moment you had with the captivating enigma that was Wanda Maximoff. 

“I accidentally bought myself two coffees this morning,” You confided, smiling slightly at Wanda’s confused expression. “I had forgotten I’d ordered the first one, so I waited in line again to order my latte, only to realize halfway through the second cup that I’d been so anxious I practically blacked out while ordering the first time around.” 

Whatever reaction you’d been expecting, the tinkling laughter that erupted from the woman seated mere inches beside you was better than anything you could’ve imagined. Her eyes crinkled, one hand coming up to cover her mouth, and you fought to urge to lower it, wanting to see her full face while she was in the throes of happiness. 

“Alright ladies,” A voice rang out, shocking you out of the comfortable lull you’d found yourself in. “Are we ready to begin?”

The mousy man was now seated at a long table, three people seated on either side of him, their eyes locked on you and Wanda. You swallowed harshly, suddenly remembering that this was an audition, and you reluctantly removed your hand from Wanda’s. 

Glancing over, Wanda nodded, her eyes still locked on yours. They were warm, as if to say, ‘Don’t rush, take your time,’ and you smiled. 

You could totally do this.

—

“When did you know?” Wanda’s voice is frail, and you bite your lip. 

“Know what?”

“That you’re…” She trailed off, her eyes distant, a lost look in them. They met yours, green eyes pleading with you to say the words she couldn’t.

“That I’m gay?” You make sure to make your tone extra sarcastic, sending a quick smile her way, and nudging your shoulder gently against hers. You leave it there, finding comfort in the warmth that shoots through your body at the minimal contact. 

She lets out a breath of air, inhaling shakily as she quickly glances away from you. “Yes… that.”

“It’s not a dirty word, you know,” You say, tilting your head slightly, hoping to catch her eye. She refuses, fingers picking at the seat between you as her eyes remain locked somewhere in the distance. 

Fighting the urge to sigh, you let your own eyes glaze over, a faraway look appearing in them as you breathe in deeply. It’s a weary sound, and you close your eyes briefly as you exhale, preparing your answer. 

“I think I’ve always known,” You begin, resting a hand on the seat, your pinky centimeters from hers. Green eyes lock onto it, her breaths shortening further, her silence stretching on. 

“The first time I realized that I was…” You search for the word, shaking your head slightly, “Different,” The word tastes like ash in your mouth, and you can’t help the slight wobble in your voice. 

Clearing your throat, you continue, “I was in second grade, and for some reason, I really wanted the approval of my new teacher,” You glance awkwardly over towards Wanda, smirking, “I’ve always liked older women.”

Wanda’s fingers inch closer to yours, the tension palpable. You look away, needing to get the next words out, but knowing you wouldn’t be able to if you were staring into those all-knowing green eyes of hers. 

“I went home that night, and I prayed,” The words get stuck in your throat, and you realize with rising horror that actual tears are making their way into your eyes. You push onwards, Wanda’s hand inching closer to yours. 

“I prayed that I would wake up the next morning and be able to like boys the same way that I liked girls. I prayed and asked God why he would do this to me, why he would make me like this if he hated it so much.” Your voice breaks, a tear escaping down your cheek. “And it didn’t work.”

At those words, the dam finally breaks, and your shoulders heave with silent sobs as Wanda’s hand finally encircles your own. You can feel her other hand hesitantly rising, moving towards your shoulder before stopping, unsure if she should touch you or not. 

Eventually, after a pathetic-sounding sniffle escapes you, her other hand wraps around your shoulders, bringing you in. You bury your head into her shoulder, fingers gripping tightly onto the back of her shirt as the lines between acting and reality blur together into one giant, jumbled mess. 

“And, scene!” A voice calls out, and you force the tears back, manually slowing your breathing to gain some semblance of control over yourself. You tell yourself that you’re imagining the hesitant way that Wanda pulls away from you and blink in surprise when her hand remains on your back, gently rubbing soothing circles as you breathe deeply. 

“That was…” The man can’t seem to get the words out, his eyes shining. “Phenomenal.” 

His voice is breathy, filled with awe, and you can’t help the surprised look that takes over your face. Really, all it took was a minor mental breakdown and your acting was phenomenal? You should try that more often. 

The rest of the members at the table seem to agree, and the mousy-looking man makes his way toward you and Wanda, a wide smile on his face. 

“Congratulations!” He all but exclaims, and you feel disconnected from your body as he continues, “You’re hired!”

The man goes on to explain that Wanda will be playing the other main character, the Bishop’s wife, while you play the lead role in the movie. You know the character well, you’ve played her both in real life and now in auditions, but you can’t quite believe the words that are spewing rapidly from the man’s mouth. 

You play a 19-year-old girl, living with her elderly Grandmother after her parents had kicked her out for coming out as a lesbian. Your character only attends church with her resolutely Mormon Grandmother because she is scared to lose the only person in her life who will still give her a home. The man explains that your character falls in love with the new Bishop’s young wife, having just moved from Utah to your state, as Wanda’s character navigates her new realization of her sexuality while also falling in love with your character. 

It’s a beautiful story, one you’d read over and over again before deciding to audition. The themes of religious trauma, grief, and romance all swirled into one complicated story, but one detail, in particular, stood out in your disconnected brain. 

Fuck. 

Wanda’s character is the romantic interest of your character. 

What are you supposed to do now?

—

The director, a brunette woman with a seemingly permanent calming aura, had instructed you and Wanda to get to know each other better during the two months before shooting. She’d said something about how actors who were friends in real life had better chemistry on screen, but you’d blacked out after the word ‘chemistry’ had fallen from her lips. 

Wanda had laughed, seeing the slight flush appear on your face, her hands gentle as she guided you towards her car, “Seeing as we’ll be getting to know each other pretty well for the next few months, why don’t we start with a tour of my home?”

She’d persuaded you further with the promise of a home-cooked meal, and you simply couldn’t refuse. You were a recent college graduate, living in a shitty studio apartment you could barely afford, surviving off of the bare essentials. A tour of an actual house with an actual meal sounded like a pretty sweet deal to you. 

Plus, Wanda would be there, so everything would be perfect. 

The next two months were wonderful, the text messages between you two were constant and the weekends reserved solely for getting to know each other better. You quickly learned that Wanda absolutely loved cooking, but she adored gardening. 

The two of you had started doing puzzles together, one particularly colorful one catching your eye as you went shopping with Wanda, and she’d insisted on buying it for you. So, it became a tradition. Every Saturday, excluding the ones when Wanda had prior plans seeing as she was a famous actress with events to attend, the two of you would share a bottle or two of wine and assemble a puzzle while conversation flowed like water between you. 

The only thing you dreaded during these two months was Sundays. The director had asked you two to attend a Mormon church, stating it as research for the upcoming movie. You didn’t have the heart to explain why the mere thought of stepping foot inside a church again sent uncomfortable, conflicting tendrils of grief and self-loathing crawling up your spine, so you simply agreed. 

Wanda knew. She somehow always knew when something was wrong. She’d helped you pick out an outfit, a modest dress with comfortable shoes, and in return, you’d helped her find a dress in her massive closet that actually fit the impossible Mormon standards. 

You were silent during the car ride to the church, your eyes locked on the landscape moving quickly outside your window. Wanda didn’t have to ask if you were alright, she saw the distant look in your eyes and knew that you were trapped in memories, unable to escape. 

A soft hand enveloped yours, fingers tight around your hands as you felt vanilla pierce the heavy weight of the scenes playing behind your eyes. Your brain cleared briefly, overwhelming gratitude welling up inside you at the gentle show of support, and your fingers squeezed back. 

After that, you felt more present. Even when you walked through the doors, a false smile glued to your lips as you led the way towards a seat covered in that same scratchy fabric from the audition room, you didn’t sink beneath the waves of past memories threatening to drown you. 

The fabric didn’t seem quite as scratchy now with Wanda beside you, her pinky mere inches from yours. You remembered the audition room, the memory overlapping with the past ones that strained to reach the surface of your thoughts. The new memory suffocated the old, your breaths coming easier while Wanda’s steady presence overcame your senses. 

Someone began speaking at the podium, your body jolting as you realized it was a prayer. Wanda’s eyes were sharp, taking in everything, assessing everything. You showed her how to fold her arms, bowing your head slightly. The last thing you wanted was to stand out. 

If you stood out from the rest, you would never be fully accepted. You couldn’t go through that again. 

Wanda seemed to see the desperation in your eyes and copied your movements. Her green eyes didn’t close, watching you as your eyes stared blankly at the booth in front of you. 

“Dear Heavenly Father, we thank thee…” You couldn’t hear the rest of the prayer, the familiar phrase ringing around your head until the cacophony of noise threatened to overwhelm you. 

A pinky touched yours, Wanda’s body resting fully against you as you sat side-by-side in a little booth. The man was still speaking, your ears numb to his words, your senses locked into only one person. 

Wanda. 

Her finger wrapped around yours, an awkward version of a pinky promise, an act so juvenile yet innocent and pure. This memory overlapped with your past, multiple prayers you’d heard about ‘giving strength to those who stray’, and ‘loving everyone no matter what their sins may be’, being smothered by the simple touch of a pinky. 

You longed for more. 

The rest of the meeting passed quickly, your hands interlocked in the seat between you, hidden beneath the folds of your skirts. You were numb to the words spoken at the podium, having learned to block them out a long time ago. You let yourself remember, an unexplainable grief rising within you as you remembered what it felt like to truly believe in something, before the same people you’d once felt seemingly unconditional love from, turned on you with knowing eyes and quiet whispers. 

All because you liked a girl. 

Silent tears fell, your sniffles quiet from years of practice. Wanda’s fingers tightened, her eyes warm but not overwhelming. You let the memories wash over you, reliving them and then releasing them, letting comforting waves of vanilla envelop and smother them like a warm blanket. You finally smiled, right near the end of the meeting, your eyes no longer dull.

Wanda held your hand the entire time. 

—

The rest of the cast was amazing, friendly faces surrounded you, and laughter never ending as you mingled before the first table read. There was an assortment of finger sandwiches on a table near the back of the room, and you didn’t stray far from it. 

It’s not that you were hiding, per se, but rather surveying the room while you tried to control a slight panic rising within you. Yeah, scratch that, you were totally hiding. 

“Hey,” Your eyes raise from the sandwich you’d been inspecting, meeting a familiar shade of green. You can’t help the comfortable smile that erupts on your face as Wanda makes her way over to you. 

“Not a fan of mingling, I take it?”

“I just,” You gesture helplessly, noticing the lingering looks from some of the cast, probably wondering why Wanda was standing near you. “I don’t know anyone. And I feel really awkward.”

Wanda’s fingers interlock with yours, pulling your reluctant frame away from the table. “Well,” She reasons, walking towards a group of people, “Let’s introduce you then.”

—

You’re quite proud of yourself, having not stuttered over a single line of yours during the first table read. You could tell that some of your castmates were surprised that you were playing the lead character, as you weren’t a well-known name in the industry. 

The cast was stacked with A-list actors, Wanda being one of them. In all honesty, you were terrified, but Wanda’s chair was next to yours, and her pinky never strayed far from your own, so it wasn’t all that bad. 

Positioning her body until it was slightly facing yours, Wanda leaned in after the director announced a short break, the rest of the cast standing up to mingle, their voices chattering about the script. 

“You did exceptionally well.” The words were whispered in your ear, meant for you and you alone. Something warm burned in your chest, and you smiled proudly as you tilted your face toward Wanda. 

Your breath caught, her lips inches from yours. She didn’t make any moves to lean back, and you fought the urge to count her freckles as her soft breaths hit your face. 

“A glowing review,” You managed, a smirk making its way onto your face at Wanda’s smile. “I’m flattered.”

Wanda laughed, finally leaning back as she did so, and you let out a sharp exhale. One of her hands gripped your forearm as she chuckled, one hand covering her mouth as she did so. 

“You shouldn’t do that,” You said, blinking at the suddenness of your words. 

Wanda tilted her head, brows furrowing slightly. She doesn’t have to speak, her silent question stretching out in the silence between you two. 

“I just mean, you cover your face when you laugh,” You gesture towards her, ducking your head as your mouth keeps talking. “You shouldn’t, you’re beautiful when you laugh.”

The statement feels awkward coming from your lips, the compliment suddenly sounding too flirty, too personal, just too much. But then, Wanda’s smiling again, her eyes sparkling as she practically beams at you, and your words don’t feel unnatural anymore. 

“Well, I…” She doesn’t continue, her eyes searching yours as her eyes continue to sparkle at you.

“I never thought I’d see the day that Wanda Maximoff was rendered speechless,” The joke spills out, the silence threatening to turn uncomfortable as you stare at each other. You place a hand over your heart mockingly, “I’m truly honored to witness this momentous occasion.” 

Wanda laughs, and this time her hands stay away from her face, your eyes eagerly taking in her expression. You were right, she is beautiful when she laughs. 

“Alright, sweet talker,” She stands, still smiling widely at you as she pulls you from your seat. “Let's go mingle with our new friends.”

You socialize, words falling easily from your lips as you get to know the rest of your cast. Plenty of people congratulate you on landing the role, some offering encouraging words and others offering tips. You enjoy it all, auburn hair and sparkling eyes never leaving your sight for too long. 

It’s not as awkward as before, not with Wanda by your side.

—

“Your agents are geniuses,” Angela, the woman playing your on-screen grandmother jokes, relaxing against the booth. Your fingers play with the scratchy fabric, standing behind the seat with Wanda leaning next to you. 

You’ve been shooting the movie for a few weeks now, and this is one of the longer days. You’re shooting on the set of a reconstructed Mormon church, and you have to admit that the set designers did their research. The main hall is eerily similar to the one you remember growing up in. 

There’s a multitude of extras milling about, the day long and exhausting for everyone, since the scenes you're shooting take place in a packed church meeting. You’ve finally gotten a break, and Wanda has come over to talk with you, as she usually did. 

“What do you mean?” Wanda asks, and Angela laughs. It's a throaty sound, and your lips turn up of their own accord as she braces herself against the seat. 

Someone shouts about the lighting, and you’re momentarily distracted while Angela wipes her eyes slightly. She waves off the young makeup artist, dabbing at the concealer beneath her eyes. 

The extras give you and Wanda a wide berth, and you’re unsure if they were instructed to do so, or if they were just intimidated by the lead actresses of the movie. Either way, you’re grateful for the space. 

“Don’t worry,” Angela says, leaning in and drawing your attention back to her. “You don’t have to play dumb with me, everyone knows that you two are dating as a publicity stunt.”

You and Wanda glance at each other briefly, shock evident on both your faces as Angela continues, “It’s a genius idea, truly. It's great for promoting the movie, and it gets people wondering if your on-screen chemistry is as good as your real-life chemistry.”

Real-life chemistry? What the fuck? 

Wanda must be thinking the same thing, because her eyes are slightly wide as she stares at you. Then, they change slightly, a calculating look in them as a multitude of makeup artists swoop in, surrounding the two of you as they prepare you for the upcoming scene. 

You catch Angela’s eye, and she pretends to zip her lips shut. Offering a wobbly smile, you walk almost robotically towards the front of the room as the director calls for places, your mind racing. Wanda brushes past you, her hand grazing your waist as she moves to sit behind the podium, where you’ll be standing for the next scene. 

Taking a deep breath, you push all thoughts of Wanda and fake relationships and chemistry out of your mind. There will be plenty of time to panic later, now, you have to focus on the next scene and try not to mess up badly. 

It’s utter chaos when they have to reset a scene with as many people as there are in the room, and you really want this day to be over with. Besides, there’s a bottle of vodka and an evening of overthinking waiting for you. 

—

Your publicist, a woman named Annie, smiles encouragingly at you while you sit in shock. 

“I mean, just think about it,” Another woman speaks, and you turn your wide eyes towards her. “It’s the perfect opportunity to sell this movie to the public, and the two of you are already good friends.”

At that, Wanda glances over at you. 

You blink. It’s slightly unfair how regal she looks, sitting elegantly in her chair in this small, suffocating room. Your brain is already slightly frazzled from a long day of shooting, and you struggle to process the request of Wanda’s publicist. 

“Let me make sure I’m understanding correctly,” Wanda interjects, sensing that you’re off-kilter at the moment. Her voice soothes you, and you remind yourself to breathe as she continues, “You want us to pretend to be in a relationship, as a publicity stunt?”

Well, when she puts it that way, it doesn’t seem so difficult. But then again, you’d agree with anything Wanda says, so maybe you’re biased. 

“Exactly,” Annie says, Wanda’s publicist nodding. “This movie is already projected to hit the box office, and with this, there will be even more demographics watching. This pretend relationship will help build anticipation for the movie, especially since the whole internet ships you two already.”

Now that was a new piece of information, and by the look on Wanda’s face, she was also hearing this for the first time.

“Do they really,” Wanda’s voice is slightly faint, her posture slumping slightly as she leans back in her chair. She seems to process, her eyes unfocusing slightly, so you ask a question of your own.

“Which demographics are we talking about, exactly?”

Annie smiles, sharing a look with Wanda’s publicist. “The younger generation for sure, since you’re already starting to trend on popular social media apps, as well as the LBGTQ+ community. They’re always looking for a new queer couple to ship.”

You try not to bristle, wanting to remind Annie that you’re a part of that community, but before you can get the words out, Wanda interjects. 

“Can we think about it?” Her words are soft, and when you glance over towards her, the green of her eyes doesn’t lock on yours like usual. Instead, they’re focused on her publicist, with a slightly firm look in them.

The woman concedes, and Wanda stands quickly. Before you’re able to get to your own feet, feeling slightly shaky as you do so, she’s already out the door.

—

After a few days of awkwardness, which you absolutely hate, you and Wanda agree that the publicity stunt is a smart move. 

It’s awkward at first, especially since you’re overthinking every interaction you have with her. You shy away from her touch, suddenly questioning if she’s touching you for the publicity stunt or because she actually wants to. 

After a couple of days of this, you’re in your trailer, watching some stupid reality show to try and get your mind off of the uncomfortable day you’d had on set when three light knocks sound at your door. 

“I know you’re in there, I can hear the TV.” Wanda’s voice sounds through the door, and you curse. It’s not that you were avoiding her… that’s a lie. You were totally avoiding her, and your acting in scenes with her had taken a hit because of it. 

“Just let me in, we need to talk,” There’s a pause, then, “Please?”

You can’t say no to that.

Turning the TV off, you make your way to the door and open it to reveal a very tired-looking Wanda. Her auburn hair seems slightly duller than usual, the sparkle in her green eyes no longer there. 

“Um,” Wanda pushes past you, sitting on your couch as you shut the door behind her. “What did you want to talk about?”

The question feels awkward, and you know that you’re avoiding the proverbial elephant in the room. Wanda gives you a look, and you sigh. 

Sitting down on the couch next to her, you leave plenty of space between your body and hers, and you try not to think about the way her pinky twitches at the distance. 

“Why are you avoiding me?” Wanda asks, and you blink. You hadn’t expected her to be so straightforward, but it seemed that she had no more patience for hesitancy. 

“I’m just,” You trail off, letting out a frustrated sigh. “I’m not sure where reality ends and this fake relationship begins. And I’m not sure about what’s real and what’s not.”

Wanda doesn’t say anything for a long while, but the silence doesn’t feel awkward anymore. Instead, it feels heavy and filled with a multitude of unspoken feelings that you wish you had the bravery to share.

“So this,” Wanda reaches out her hand slowly, as if not to spook you. It stops, halfway between your body and hers, resting innocently on your couch. Her pinky stretches out further, and you let your hand slide along the cushion until your pinkies interlock. 

You don’t imagine the relieved sigh that escapes Wanda’s lips.

“You’re not sure if this is real or not?” The question rings around your head, and you shake your head because no, you can’t tell.

“Let me tell you how I see it,” Wanda says, her voice soft. You look up, meeting those pretty green eyes for the first time all day. She smiles, and they crinkle at the edges. You’ve missed seeing that. 

“When we’re alone, or on set, everything is real,” Her voice is firm, laced with honesty. “When we’re in public, it’s still real, just dramatized for the camera. Does that make sense?”

You nod, the pieces finally clicking together in your brain. You don’t say anything, and you don’t have to. All you do is squeeze Wanda’s fingers tighter and move closer to her on the couch. 

Turning the TV back on, you rest against her, your head resting on her shoulder. When you glance up at her, the green in her eyes sparkles back at you. Something settles deep within you, and Wanda rests her cheek against the top of your head.

—

You stare blankly at the script in front of you. The pages flutter slightly as a gentle breeze sweeps through the actor’s tent. Sounds of chatter flow around you, but you remain unresponsive, the words on the page swimming off and distorting as you try not to panic. 

A sinking feeling makes its way into your chest, the reality of the scene you’re about to shoot finally setting in. 

You have to kiss Wanda Maximoff. 

Sure, it’s an on-screen kiss, it’s not like it means anything. Right?

But there’s a small part of you that longs for it to be real. Some stupid part of you that you try to get rid of that wishes it meant something to her. Because it sure as hell means something to you. 

But it won’t mean anything to her. It’s a fake kiss. One meant for the screen. You build your walls, surrounding your heart with impenetrable stone as a calm iciness envelops you. 

It doesn’t mean anything. 

—

Her lips are inches from yours, and you can’t stop looking at them. They’re plump, and slightly glistening from a light coating of lip gloss. There’s a red undertone, and you find yourself yearning to discover what she tastes like. 

You hesitate. 

“Cut.” The director calls, and you blink, stepping away from Wanda. 

“Remember,” The director begins, and you focus all your attention on her, ignoring the concerned look Wanda is sending your way. “Your character wants this, she’s not hesitating. She’s been yearning for this for weeks now, and I need you to show that through the screen. I want to feel the tension, the desperation.”

She pins you with a look, a sort of knowing glint in her eye. “Understood?”

“Yep, got it.” You offer a smile, the fakeness of it making you cringe. Your makeup artists swoop in, touching up the smallest details possible, while you avoid eye contact with Wanda. 

“Hey,” Wanda’s voice is soft, and you glance at her. Her eyes are locked on yours, and you somehow can’t bring yourself to look away. She looks almost… sad.

“Are you alright?” 

You mentally scoff, your walls crumbling slightly as the green of her eyes threatens to overtake you. “Yeah.”

The clipped tone of your voice rebuilds your walls, the stone solidifying once again. You turn away, walking towards the beginning spot of this scene, not seeing the confusion that overtakes Wanda’s expression. 

A wave of sadness crashes through her, all the times that you’ve been pulling away from her running through her mind as she makes her way towards her own spot. She attempts to meet your eyes again, but you refuse. 

She knows that this scene won't be successfully shot today. 

“And, action.” 

You look up, your character snapping into place quickly, your eyes dark and full of longing. Wanda is startled by the sudden change but snaps into her own character quickly as you walk slowly toward her. 

“Don’t say things like that,” Your voice is low, your emotions swirling in the forefront of your mind. 

“Things like what?”

“Things that sound a lot like love confessions,” You hear your voice break and want to cringe. It fits perfectly for your character, but you’re unused to sounding so weak. 

“Why not?”

Your body is pressed against Wanda’s, her chest grazing yours with each shallow breath she takes. You almost believe that it’s real, just for a moment. You desperately wish it was. 

Wanda’s eyes search yours, and you’re reminded that she’s playing a character. A character that’s falling madly in love with you, unconcerned about the repercussions. A character that couldn’t be further from reality. 

You hesitate again, your body refusing to move your lips closer as your mind wars with itself. 

Wanda sighs, and the director calls out again. You barely hear what she’s saying, your body practically propelling itself away from Wanda, focusing on rebuilding its walls as her hand twitches toward you. 

“It’s alright, “ the director is saying, and you force yourself to focus on her. She’s smiling gently at you, her voice kind, “Everyone has off days, we’ll try again tomorrow. It's been a long week.”

Nodding jerkily at her, you wave off your team, choosing to return to your trailer instead of following them. You’ll deliver your costume later, or have someone come pick it up. But right now, you need to be alone. 

Walking quickly, you practically sigh in relief when you reach your trailer. You’re quick to unlock it, pressing the door open urgently and twisting slightly to close it. 

A hand stops you, delicate fingers wrapping around the door as you look up in shock. You hadn’t realized anyone was following you, but looking into those iridescent green eyes, you understand. 

Wanda says your name, her voice holding a pleading edge to it, and you can’t bring yourself to deny her. 

You open the door wider, silently giving her permission to enter. She brushes past you, fingers twitching but not touching you. She seems to want to touch you, and you try and push down the part of you that wants her to. 

“Why are you…” She hesitates, not knowing what to say. 

Raising your eyebrows, you resign yourself to having this conversation. You knew it was coming, but you find yourself inadequately prepared for it. Standing awkwardly in the middle of your small trailer, you simply stare at Wanda. 

“Why is it so difficult to kiss me?” Wanda’s eyes are sad, and you want to cry. You hadn’t meant to make her fucking sad, and now she looks like a kicked puppy.

The tears that spring into your eyes are unexpected, and you blink furiously as they begin to spill down your cheeks. Wanda steps towards you, but you evade her, opening the door and gesturing for her to leave. You refuse to cry in front of her, not when your heart is seconds away from tearing in two. 

“When I kiss you I want it to be real, I want it to mean something, Wanda.”

The door shuts firmly behind her, and you miss the understanding and longing that appears in her eyes. Wanda turns away, a single tear escaping her. 

Of course it would mean something to her. It would mean everything. 

—

It’s raining, and you want to cry and laugh at the same time. 

Wanda had left you a voicemail. You’d stared at your screen while watching her contact picture pop up as she called you. You couldn’t quite bring yourself to hear her voice, so you let it ring. 

What you hadn’t expected was the voicemail. 

“I just… fuck, I don’t know what I want to say but it would mean something to me. I promise. I- you. I hate this. I hate this distance, I hate that I can’t help you and I hate that I’m falling in love with you.”

The message had ended pretty quickly after that confession. You’d heard a few muttered curse words, and then a dial tone that rang in your ear long after you lowered the phone.

You didn’t know what to do, so you grabbed a rain jacket and started walking. Hoping it will clear your head. Your feet had other plans it seemed, as you found yourself walking up the driveway of Wanda’s home. 

It surprised you, as she lived at least fifteen minutes away by car. You barely remembered the walk there, having been trapped in your own mind as your body brought you towards the only thing you could think of. The person who had consumed your every waking thought, and invaded your dreams.

How fucking typical and cinematic it was, walking up her driveway in the pouring rain. You could see a few lights on, and you begin to prepare a speech. Something super lame and mushy about how much you like… fuck that. How much you love her. 

Fuck. You loved her. 

Of course you did. You’d gotten to know and love the woman behind the famous persona she’d created. The soft, caring woman who loved gardening and puzzles, who hummed along to songs as she cooked, and who looked at you with impossibly soft eyes. 

You knock, and your heart feels like it's about to beat out of your chest. 

Green eyes meet yours, and you recoil. They’re cold and dull, so unlike the usual sparkle that you’re used to, and you feel your walls build higher even as you plead with yourself to lower them. 

Turning, you feel your feet start to walk away, your mind replaying that dead look in her eyes. Your heart fortifies itself, trying not to break as you make your way down the driveway. Tears blur your vision, your ears ringing with embarrassment as you try to remember the way back to your trailer. 

“Wait, just… fuck. Wait.” A firm hand grips your forearm, and you spin in surprise. 

There’s fire behind those green eyes, and you stand still. Wanda’s auburn hair is drenched, rain pelting down on the two of you, running down her perfect face as she blinks at you. 

“I…” She can’t seem to get the words out, her eyes boring into yours. 

Time stands still, the tension thick as you allow yourself to glance at her lips. You feel the words on the tip of your tongue, threatening to escape. You let them. 

“I love you.”

Wanda speaks at the same time, her words slightly faster than yours. Green eyes widen in surprise, and you feel a wave of immense relief sweep through you. 

Rain continues to pour around you, but you barely notice. Within seconds, Wanda’s hands are cupping your face, your own grabbing desperately at her waist as your bodies draw together like magnets. Her lips find yours, and you feel something click into place as your lips slide together effortlessly. 

It feels like coming home after a long day, the months of pining and uncertainty coming to a head as you melt at the feel of her lips against yours. Your shoulders relax, tension seeping out of you as you chuckle. 

Pulling back, you stare at her, watching her eyes crinkle as she mirrors the wide smile on your face. She’s perfect, and you whisper one single thing before your lips find hers again, rain soaking the two of you as you embrace. 

“This is real, I promise.”

---

Dm or comment to be added!

Taglist: @alexawynters @msvenablesbitch @marilynthornhilllover @lifespectator @milkeeteaa @imnotawitch @marvels--slut @justabrokensunshine @dorabledewdroop @wandsmxmff @esposadejoyhuerta

[demonsword586]

Gehenna pp headcanons! (Just nobles)

(A little warning. This gets explicit. I was trying to make it goofy but I think I might have gone a bit....off. Still I hope you enjoy it. Mind you,I never saw a pp before,only an imaginary one of my friend and they still didn't let me poke it.)

Sitri

- Okay let's start off with the size...just from what I seen of him,I think he's on the bigger side. Definetlly bigger than Satan and his king is still pissed about that from time to time.

- 20-21 cm I think

-Now he is a gentleman. He was raised in hell called Hades. Which means he was probably taught of proper higene. In other words,this man's lower region is as smooth as a baby.

-Smells like tea. He drank so much tea,his piss now smells good and his cum tastes like black tea.

-Now for the shape and color. I think his tip is on a brighter side of pink. It's suprisingly slim and elegant compared to someone like Satan who's penis looks like a meat claymore.

-Anyway good penis on a good man. Refreshing as well if you need a man with flavoured cum.

Zagan

- Hmm....Now for Zagan,I think he's a grower.

-His bulge is pretty small but if we think on how much he exercises,there's no way he isn't training his penis as well.

-Okay hear me out. He has a little workout routine for his pp. He flexes up his muscles and makes it go up and down,probably does a helicopter to warm it up.

-And it actually works! His pp has grown in lenght and girth from his training and now he can make it hard on command.

-He does smell a bit funny though. He works out and while yes,you can hide the scent of sweat on most of your body,this is one part where he can'r mask the scent because it is simply too strong.

-My point? His pp smells...of manliness!

-He tries to take care of his pubes but would prefer to keep a small white bush above the shaft. You can't get him to shave it off tho. The bush stays.

-Also I think most of his cock is the color of his skin except his tip which is just one shade lighter.

-His seed tastes like protein tho.

Paimon

- Tucks it. I can't explain why but he tucks it. This bulge? Those are his balls.

-The actual size of it is around 13 cm. A little small for a devil but still packs a punch.

-He wears very cute underwear. He knows no one will see it but it just feels nice to know he has something cute on. Wears comfier undies when he's home and done for the day.

-Likes to put glitter on it. He just thought it would be a funny little thing if he putted some of that super fine and sticky glitter on the shaft....and now he puts on a little fasion show for the other nobles every once in awhile.

-It's actually good tho. He uses those little brushes and stencils. He once even did it for Leraye who then ran around pantless to show everyone how talented Paimon is at dick decoration.

-Sometimes when he thinks he doesn't smell good,he might put some parfume on it. Don't be suprised when his pp smells like flowers or vanilla.

-Very well groomed. No hair on the balls or around the penis. The only thing that he does have...is a little heart shaped bush slightly above his pp.

-The penis itself is on a little more girthy side and when hard it leans slightly to the right. Pretty pale with a pale pink tip.

Leraye

- flat

- Anyway Leraye I think is also a grower. It may not look impressive flaccid wirh only 12 cm but when it gets HARD..oh boy. It goes from a puppy to a wolf. This thing is easily 21 cm once you wake it up.

- The shape is on a leaner side. Being slender but also long. He does hower go thicker around the base. But only at the base,like a slight knot.

- He once walked in on Zagan when he was warming up his pp with the helicopter move and then very euthusiasticlly asked Zagan to teach him.

-Next time you two were about to have a passionate night he wanted to show you a trick. Wipes it out and then swings his pp around like a disco ball while saying 'Look what I can do!😃' It ended up being a little joke between the two of you.

-Suprisingly doesn't have a headless teddy anywhere near his cock. If you ask him,maybe just our of curiousity,why he doesn't have a teddy there like on his horn he will look at you with dread. That would be just rude of him to dirty the dead body of a plushie by impaling it on his pp. He can't bring himself to go as low as Glasyal.

- He does have a bit of pubic hair. A small, dishaved,blond bush . Very pretty and suits him. Please let him keep it.

-His cock is as milky as him. A very pretty color with a flush tip.

Belial

- Normal. Questionably normal lenght. It's not too big and not too small. Just...normal. maybe falls a cm or two from perfect.

-It's also on a little skinnier side. Nice and thin.

-Still size isn't everything. It's important how he uses it....and unfortunatelly for you,he's good!

-He manages to fill in for the lack of impressivness with his experience.

-He is quite strong so with him you're able to try some more adventurous positions like the bicycle or the ballet dancer.

-Gets easily moist. His precum is very watery so his tip looks like it's always glistening.

-Very well groomed. Almost no hair down there except for a thin strip. Also the carpet maches the drapes,his pubes have red ends.

- He also has 2 frenum piercings. Astaroth recommended him to get them,saying " You will corrupt many mortals with these. "

-The dick itself is pretty pale with a darker shade of pink at the tip.

Astaroth

- OH HOLY MARY

- *cough* Sorry *cough* thighs...

-Anyway! Let's go from the size down....BIG. The snake on his bory isn't the only snake he has.

- 26 cm

- You know how snakes hide their pps in what looks like a slit? Yea Astaroth can do that.

-Normally he keeps it inside of himself,but when he gets shy or horny,it pops out and his pants suddenly look a little heavier. There was a time when Sitri didn't know about his anathomy and just saw him suddenly get a bulge. He asked him if he just shat himself.

- Once out and hard,his cock naturally curves upwards. It's just slightly thicker than a normal one but with how long it is,that may be for the best.

- He has a dydoe piercing on the head of it. He considered going for more but decided not to after how intense it felt. He does always wonder how it would feel like if his piercings got stuck inside of you. How romantic~ Two lovers tied together as one for eternity~ (Thankfully it never happens. He is nice enough to take them off if you don't like the feel of them)

- He likes to keep himself well groomed. I mean very well groomed. He waxes off everything and then puts extra virgin olive oil on top. He also puts some on his shaft from time to time to make it a bit more smooth and squishy.

[yuzurins]

# circles

in which: sae’s tired of running around in circles with an undefined relationship, so he decides to take his chance when he can to make you his.

warnings: kind of unorganized, mentions of alcohol, intoxicated reader, insecure reader, mutual pining, just a bunch of comfort and fluff, honestly strayed from the original prompt t-t

reblogs and interactions are appreciated!

itoshi sae is a busy man.

being the most sought for japanese football player and as well as a regular on the real matrid team meant he was always doing something football related. practices, games, events, you name it.

his schedule is packed with plans set months before they happen. companies and teams always request to see him sooner, but he makes no exceptions for anyone, not even his own family.

well, that goes for anyone but you.

itoshi sae has found himself breaking his own ideals without any hesitation. he‘s standing in front of your apartment, 5 hours, 27 minutes and 54 seconds before his flight back to spain, after an obviously drunk text you sent him 10 minutes ago.

1:22AM

y/n: saweewea

y/n: did u knwo a broken heart hurts REAL bad😍

sae: what

y/n: i think i’m goign to crush my cat with my body weight

y/n: u fg hhh hj jgjjgjhhhrkdoforjfof

sae: where are you rn

y/n: ogm r ru gonna come visit me 😎😜🥺

y/n: i’m soooerirjf lonely

sae: .

sae: be there in 5

sae doesn’t know whether to ring the doorbell or call you to let you know he’s here. heck, he’s not even sure whether you’re at home or not, but he does know that it’s not often you go out to drink. as he’s hesitating, you hastily open the door, almost like you could sense him there.

“sae!” you slur, just barely avoiding stumbling over yourself as you straighten up. “i didn’t expect you to actually come visit me.”

“neither did i.” he scoffs as he takes in your current state: graphic anime tee (which he gave you last christmas), sweatpants, messy tangled bun and your face is entirely red. you reek of soju and he knows better than anyone you’re a lightweight, so sae mentally prepares once more for what he’s about to get himself into.

the response from the magenta haired in front of you causes a pout to form on your face. he’s not quite sure if it’s just his imagination or not, but it looks like you’re more down, more tired than usual.

“are you okay?” he asks, and this prompts you to stretch your arms out, almost habitually, and wrap them around the taller male’s torso.

sae flinches ever so slightly at your touch. he gently pushes you back into the apartment as he closes the door, all while having one arm wrapped around your waist.

it’s obvious you’re not in the right mind space, but as everyone says, drunk words are sober thoughts, though sae doesn’t know whether that’s good or bad. you getting blackout drunk as a result of academic stress has become a monthly occurrence now, and it always ends up with sae coming over to babysit you. he’s more than aware of the fact that you’re taking his presence for granted, yet despite that, he’s still always there for you.

you’re obviously more than just friends, so why does sae feel like the line separating friendship and relationship just keeps getting thicker?

you latch onto him like a koala as he shuffles over to your couch. he doesn’t force anything out of you, doesn’t show any impatience, and just waits for you to talk.

the two of you quietly bask in the comfort of each other’s arms for a long time. just as sae begins to loosen his hold on you believing you’ve drifted off, you cling onto him even tighter, refusing to let go of his warmth.

“don’t go.” you mumble into his hoodie, voice quivering, and sae wonders if it really is school stress that’s made you this way.

humming in response, he pats your back lightly as if he’s caring for a baby, trailing his hand up to your head to play with your hair.

sae doesn’t want to pry, but there’s something he really needs to confirm before it eats his thoughts up even more.

“i won’t leave,” he reassures. “did anything happen?”

a sound comes out of your mouth in response, barely louder than a whisper. sae turns his head to look at you and you take it as a request for you to repeat your words. you try again, and this time, you’re still mumbling, but it’s enough for him to make out what you want to convey.

“i’m sorry.” and a tear falls from your eyes, “i’m sorry, sae.”

now sae’s been in this position for countless times, always coming to be your personal therapist at unearthly hours in the night, but this is the first time he’s ever seen you act so vulnerable. he can feel your body trembling against him and his heart aches just seeing you so dejected.

but he’s not dense enough to not realize what you’re apologizing for, because it’s the same reason as to why he decided to ask in the first place. he gently removes his arms off your waist, turns you to face him and moves his hand up to wipe the tears streaming down your cheek.

this tender, silent exchange between the two of you is more than any amount of words that express. sae’s usually indifferent eyes are laced with affection, and you just can’t help but feel so guilty because of that.

“i know you’re really busy,” you avert your eyes, biting on your bottom lip to stop yourself from breaking again. “you’re always doing so much for me, and i feel so terrible because i don’t deserve any of it.”

sae doesn’t say anything, letting you finish your thoughts before stating his.

“i was watching one of your games earlier, and i was reminded of the fact that your world and mine are so far apart.” you’re still looking away, but a soft nudge from sae’s hand pushes you back to look at him. “i just—i feel like i’m not enough for you, sae.”

through watered eyes, you can catch the expression of the male in front of you waver, and with years of knowing him, you’ve mastered the ability to be able to tell what emotions are going off in his mind.

“i know it sounds silly—“

“it’s not silly.” he interrupts, despite being patient all this time, but struggles to find the right words to continue. “is this what you’ve been feeling since back then?”

you shake your head, and lean forward to rest it on his shoulder. “the internet is scary.”

sae lets out a soft chuckle at your unintentional joke, and moves his head to rest it on the side of yours. “but what only matters is that i’m here in front of you right now, yeah?”

“it’s true that i’m busy, but i’ll always be your anchor of support whenever you need it, seriously.” his fingers find their way to intertwine with yours, and your heart flutters at how romantic he’s being. “so don’t cry sweetheart, because you’re breaking my heart as well.”

the use of the pet name makes you giggle, it being so out of character for sae, yet that’s how you know he really means it, from the bottom of his heart. hearing the sound of your laughter allows sae to relax his shoulder from all the tension he unknowingly had been feeling, and he cups your cheek with his palm, bringing you face-to-face with the taller male.

his eyes study your features, taking in your beauty, before going back to make eye contact with you. though you notice how they flicker down to your lips and hover there for a split second longer than anything else, your heart thumping loudly at the realization of what he’s asking of you.

you flash him a small smile in response as approval, and sae wastes no time closing the distance between you two. his touch is soft, almost like he’s afraid of breaking you, and easily washes away all the worries clouding your mind.

sae droops his arms over your shoulders and rests his forehead against yours. “you were always and will be more than enough for me, y/n.”

his sweet words bring a red flush to your face (not from alcohol this time) and you purse your lips in embarrassment as sae’s grin only gets bigger.

“so just hurry up and be mine already.”

BONUS: the morning after

you wake up with a pounding headache, and immediately try to get up to get a drink of water, but your body doesn’t budge at all.

as your eyes begin to adjust, you look down to find sae and his arms locked around you, causing a scoff to come out of your mouth.

of course you couldn’t move when a whole professional football player (incredibly fit btw😍) has a death grip on you.

“sae, wake up.” you nudge him and he only whines in response. “didn’t you have a flight to catch this morning?”

“mm, shush.” he takes one of his arms and lightly pushes you back down into his embrace. “who cares about that, been waiting for this for far too long.”

you laugh and decide to give in, slowly drifting back to sleep.

meanwhile, sae’s nonstop vibrating phone on your nightstand is totally unnoticed, the cause being hundreds of messages and calls from his manager wondering where he is.

[number1jeonginstan]

You said you wanted thoughts sooo here we go

okay so imagine, reader is dating seungmin and in bed theyre always talking about how they need someone else to fully fulfill their desires, to be utterly used. One day in the dorms seungmin and reader are going AT IT when they think no one is home but jeongin is in the next room. in their neediness they forgot to fully close the door and jeongin can hear everything and he can hear the way you beg seungmin for someone else and hes responding like

"Bet you wish little jeonginnie was here to help you dont ya? want his cock so bad but here you are cumming on mine"

and jeongin's brain just... stops

anyway yeah thats a thought that you can expand on if you like :)

also could I be moose anon? if you dont have one already

Omfg, I love this so much what the fuck... (And ofc 🫎, I love getting new anons <3)

Just imagine:

Jeongin came home from the gym, his body still a bit sweaty. He was about to walk into Seungmin's room, asking if he wanted anything to eat because he was about to order himself dinner, only to hear you moaning.

"Please Minnie, I need more, please" you whined as he was fucking you from behind. Your voice was slightly muffled since your face was pressed into the pillows at the head of the bed.

"Fucking slut" he groaned, his pace not faltering "You need another cock in you? One's not enough?" he screamed, slapping your ass.

"No, need more, please I need him" you whimpered.

Jeongin knew he should have walked away, he shouldn't be peeping from the crack in the door, but he couldn't help it. You looked so fucking good as drool was pressed against your face.

"Yeah, you need Jeongin to fuck you too? Is that why you always ask him for help to carry things? Want to see him toss you around next"

"Yes!" you moaned as Seungmin hit that deep spot inside of your cunt.

Jeongin said "fuck all" to every ounce of common sense in his body and barged into Seungmin's room, taking off his shirt before you or Minnie could register what was going on.

"I guess all your wishes are coming true" Seungmin whispered into your ear, causing you to look at him with a confused look splayed on your face, only to see Jeongin next to him, pulling down his shorts and boxers, his leaking cock hitting his stomach.

He was huge, a bit shorter than Min, but a hell of a lot thicker. Your eyes bulged out at the sight of it, causing him to chuckle.

"Thanks for stretching her out hyung, now let me show her what a real cock feels like." He groaned, slamming the entirety of his cock inside of you before you could even say anything.

"Look at her being a cock drunk whore" Seungmin tsks as Jeongin trusted harshly inside of you, his cock making you see stars.

"Fuck, she's so tight even though you just fucked her. This is such a good pussy, can't believe you were hiding it from me" Jeongin groaned, slapping his hips against your ass harder.

You couldn't even reply, too immersed in the feeling of Jeongin hitting all the spots inside of you that drove you wild.

"Too much" you whined as he brought his hand down to your clit.

"You are going to take it baby" Jeongin replied, not faltering his pace "My fucked out baby just said that Minnie's cock isn't enough and is now complaining that my big fat cock inside of you is too much. Guess you don't deserve to cum"

"No please, I'm so sorry Innie, feels so good, please let me cum" you whined, thrusting back into him to try and get any sort of friction.

"Ask your sir" he chuckled, grabbing your hair so your face was looking directly at Seungmin, your eyes meeting his.

"Please sir, may I cum, please need to cum" you whined, waiting for Seungmin's response.

What felt like an eternity was only a few seconds for Minnie to nod his head yes, allowing you to cum around Jeongin's cock.

"Fuck!" he groaned, feeling himself get closer.

Right before he could cum, he pulled his cock out of you, cumming all over your back, causing both you and Minnie to moan audibly.

"We should leave the door open more" Seungmin giggled, kissing your lips before Jeongin picked you up, taking you to your shared bathroom.

[murdrdocs]

Hazel spoiling the shit out of you both affectionately and materially💕💕💕

like you can tell from her house that she’s loaded and would argue with you over the restaurant bill (also because masc chivalry exists💯)

oh she absolutely fucking would ; nothing but fluff

it starts with small things: hazel ordering your usual coffee order and presenting her card before you even have a chance to absorb the total given by the cashier. she does it casually, taking the plastic (maybe hers is metal? it looks a little thicker than it should) back with a polite smile and a decline of the receipt before she urges you towards the pick up section.

“i could’ve covered that,” you tell her, both a little upset and delighted that she didn’t even ask. she shrugs, runs a hand through her hair, and pushes your concern off.

“it’s fine. ‘s no big deal.” and then she grabs both coffees for you and places yours into your awaiting hands.

steadily, her chivalry increases. covering your expensive coffees throughout the entire week, saying she’ll cover lunch or not even bothering telling you how much you owe her for the delivery order you were already halfway through. each time, if you even bother attempting to venmo her, she takes your phone from your hands and kisses all over your face instead, the press of her slightly chapped lips against your skin a welcome distraction that provides infectious giggles instead of borderline bothersome questions about totals and prices.

you don’t really notice how much she spoils you until date night, a date circled on her calendar and set aside for both of you to get dressed up and go out to dinner. you’d thought it was ironic, hazel telling you to wear your prettiest dress so both of you can go to texas roadhouse and eat your weight in rolls.

instead, she drives you to one of the fancier restaurants in the city, a hand on your thigh with her thumb drawing circles in the sliver of exposed skin she touches. the whole ride there, she avoided your questions of her dining choice, an almost giddy smile on her pretty face as she instead let you sit there and speak into the void.

which, you can see why. walking towards a very romantic table for two, surrounded by couples and maybe friends sitting at equally nice tables. you knew that hazels secretive nature resided in the fact that you would’ve made her turn the car around and go to roadhouse if you knew her intended destination.

but it’s not like you can frown and pout the entire dinner, which hazel cheekily reminds you as she encourages you to order whatever you want.