#// she's so gooey sweet because of this

[usagimen]

 ( hc // meta )  Like most shikomi’s, Sayuri was given the option to utilize her strengths. While some girls would learn to sing, dance, perfect the art of tea ceremony, she excelled in dance. Under the rigid guidance of her aunt, Sayuri became renowned in her apprentice years for moving with an ethereal nature. Most dances that a shikomi will learn && then transition to maikohood will work on the smaller muscle reflexes, fine tuning them, thus while the movements appear slow it takes a great amount of dexterity for a maiko to appear floating or weightless. Just because she is a dancer does NOT mean she is weak, in fact, prior to martial arts that is where her strength came from.

   Coming from a sheltered world, Sayuri found joy in music, she liked the angsty alternative scene && pop music that made her feel connected to those around her. The bright yet flashy clothing, glamorous idols, but most importantly the intense movements that were far different from what she was taught. Plastic Love is a homage to just that, the freedom behind such current trends && the ever shifting landscape of everything disco / pop. Heels are integral for her, the first set she ever wore were basic mary-jane style in black with a modest pump. Her cursed energy flows downwards as she will vocalize, how she harmonized her body to react is that of water, everything shifts into the balance as she breathes && feels each emotion within the gut.

   Her CT is that to be shared && represents the integral core of who she is, unlike her inherited technique that distorts reality to bend all perceptions. In the Past Arc, she sheepishly explains that PL synchrinizes to whoever she is with, when paired together, they will have a five percent critical hit. How does Sayuri know this? Simple, she is proficient in mathematics enough to be considered a walking calculator. This was not done because of her own desires but to utilize every second, minute, to hour in combat for the most efficient yet sure route. Due to the nature of her bound hounds, it caps the limit, when they are free from constrictions && harmonized with a dance partner, PL will increase by 10 percent. In JJK0, she demonstrates there is no need for a partner, she can use it solely to boost herself, but it’s fun to dance together. The drawback? This made her an extremely attractive ally in the Culling Game, which didn’t end well for anyone who thought she was easy to use.

      Unlike the training grounds she lived in while honing her body, Sayuri practiced endlessly by merely spinning, moving, dancing as much as she could - it is the life that brims within her. Her passion && natural beauty that ekes through, PL is very much the soul of the God Hand Sorcerer, she feels free whenever her body moves. The genre style will also change to fit her partner’s preferred style of dance, it’s extremely rare to not see her smiling when synching together, one can also feel the residual energy from her. That bright flame that is so scorching but feels warm, like the midst of a summer day that is never ending, pleasant && pure. Altogether, her CT did stem from the genuine desire to connect, her benevolent nature && the natural playfulness she carries.   Just for fun, this is the version (ex.) of Plastic Love that Sayuri enjoys the most.

[rcmclachlan]

#listen i know i keep writing vaguely conciliatory marge and phil in my fics #but i would like to repeat myself in saying that PERSONALLY i would like them slowly lowered into a cauldron of boiling oil #roasted over a spit #made to live in a neighborhood without an hoa #i understand there is nuance to grief but i cannot forgive eighteen years of NOT CARING FOR YOUR CHILD #for forcing a child you canonically care for to RAISE A CHILD YOU HAD FOR SPARE PARTS #for forcing her to LIE to him#i would like a solar flare to target them specifically #god #its so fucking heartbreaking that they have denied buck live for so long #that overbearing 'im going to buy you a couch' is So Significant to Buck that he's nearly in tears about it #so glad he has maddie but it was Never right or fair to turn her into a mother #i Do Not forgive them and the narrative will never change that for me (via @alchemistc)

4.04 (9-1-1, What’s Your Grievance?) ✘ 4.05 (Buck Begins)

“When you left Doug, you only had two suitcases.”

“And everything that mattered the most was inside them.”

↳ requested by princessfbi

[tommygotwrittenoff]

no, wait, listen, buddie goes canon, right?? and they are taking things slow and being normal about their relationship and having a dating period because they are Normal about each other. but they are out with chris and they bring back the elf that called them gay somehow (shhh dw about how they do it they just do), and she says something about how beautiful their family is again. and this time buck is all 😊😊 thank you 🥰🥰 and gayly skips away again

[moonstruckme]

hello, my love! i cometh to the with a poly!marauders request.

i haven’t fleshed it out in my head, but could you write something revolving around them talking about r while she’s “asleep”? the way it came was in the sh drabble, reader falls asleep on james after the tough convo. i thought of a nice follow-up where the lads talk about ways to support them while they think she’s asleep and she feels so safe and supported and it’s just fluffy and cute.

it doesn’t have to be around sh or anything like that! just something fluffy and cute where they talk about her when they think she’s fallen asleep on one of the lads. it could be about past trauma they want to support her with, a trigger and them discussing how to go about helping, etc. - anything you fancy at all. i could use some soft fluff ❤️

Thanks for requesting lovely <3

poly!maraudes x fem!reader ♡ 796 words

Sirius’ thumb is sweeping a slow back-and-forth over the baby hairs at your temple. You can feel his chest rising and falling beneath your head, hear his heart inside it, smell the heady spice of his cologne, but you’re sleepy enough that those things fuzz together, melt into the gooey softness of dozing. 

James and Remus are tidying in the kitchen. You’ve been distantly aware of their low, continual sounds, but you don’t register the change until Remus’ footsteps near the couch where you and Sirius are lying, the floor creaking beneath his feet. 

“Do either of you—oh.” His voice drops to a hush when Sirius shushes him. “Is she asleep?” 

You have the notion to make some small sound, but your mind is sluggish. When Sirius murmurs, “yeah,” before you can, you decide to let it go. 

Remus makes a soft tsking sound. You feel the couch bend near your feet. “Should we wake her? She might not sleep well tonight if she does now.” 

“I don’t much care when she sleeps.” Sirius’ thumb keeps stroking at your temple, his voice as soft as you’ve ever heard it. You think that you may never get past the oddity of being held by him like this. When you first met Sirius, any tenderness had to be disguised as flirting. In a moment like this he would have woken you with sweet, tickling kisses mushed into your neck, growling about how you were too cute to let sleep before making some joke about how if you want to get me into the bedroom, gorgeous, there are quicker ways. And it was all in good fun, you’d enjoyed it and known the real sentiments that lay beneath all his levity. But over time that showy, over-the-top amorousness has morphed into a more sincere sort of fondness, and you like this version of Sirius even more. “Only that she does sleep,” he finishes. “She hasn’t been getting much of it lately.” 

“No,” Remus hums. “I’ve noticed.” 

There are a few moments of soft, blanketing silence between them. You start to drift off again, but then another pair of footsteps comes. 

Remus must make some silent signal, because James whispers, “She’s sleeping?” 

Two hums. 

“It’s not like her to sleep during the day.” 

“We don’t think she’s been getting much of it during the night, either,” sighs Remus. 

James makes a low cooing sound. The throw piled by your feet finds its way up to your shoulders. 

“James.” Remus’ voice is stern. 

“What?” 

“Don’t touch her face,” says Sirius. 

“Sorry,” James laughs softly. “She just looks so cute.” 

“Well, try to restrain yourself.” 

“Okay, okay.” But a pair of lips touches down ever so softly on your forehead, and you hear Sirius’ amused chuff. “Why do you think it is that she’s not been sleeping?” James asks. 

Remus hums. “M’not sure. I think she may just be a bit overwrought.” 

Your chest aches at the caring in his tone. Sirius’ free arm bands across your shoulders, a protective, solid weight. 

“She’ll be alright,” he murmurs. “She just needs a little extra help at the moment, is all.” 

“Maybe we could bake something tonight,” says James. “She always likes that.” 

Remus’ voice is warm with affection. “That’s sweet, Jamie. Maybe something simple, so she can just relax.” 

“Like decorating cookies?” 

“Do we have the stuff for that?” Sirius wonders. 

James scoffs, and you feel Sirius’ chin bump your head as though a forceful kiss has been pressed upon the top of his. “As if you’d have any idea what’s in our pantry. Cute.” 

A smile tugs at your lips. You shift slightly to hide it, turning your face further into Sirius’ chest. All three boys go quiet. 

Sirius rubs your shoulder gently. “It’s okay, baby,” he murmurs, lips to your hair. “Go back to sleep.” Your boyfriends stay silent as you settle, and for a cautious while after that. 

“She’s so precious,” Remus whispers, almost too softly for anyone to hear. 

James makes a quiet sound of agreement. “I hate when she’s upset.” 

“I don’t think she’s very upset,” Remus muses. “Or if she is, she might not know herself. It’s all just a bit much right now, I think.” 

“She’ll be okay,” Sirius says again. His hand is moving over your shoulder still. You think he might do it for hours if it kept you from waking, he loves you that much. Your heart feels too big for your chest. “We’ll take care of her. Cookies, right?” 

“It’s a start,” Remus agrees. 

“James, I swear to god, if you wake her I will fill your shoes with cow shit.” 

“I won’t,” James swears. “Relax.” He presses his lips to the tip of your nose, and both the other boys sigh.

[rafey-baby]

sweet treat

thinking about construction worker!rafe who spends his days ‘lifting heavy stuff and building shit’ (his words) and is always showing up to the small cafe shy!reader works at all sweaty and white shirt dirtied...

18+ mdni!

c/w: construction worker!rafe being flirty & having some improper thoughts, her having the biggest crush on him, suggestive

wc: 1k

hope you enjoy xx

part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5

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

Every time the golden bell above the door of the coffee shop dings and Rafe's eyes settle on her soft form the edges of his mouth tilt up; offering her a lazy grin as he asks what baked good she’d recommend for him to try that day. 

His visits have become something she begins to look forward to, him asking about her day with his raspy voice and big biceps bulging as he leans against the counter; always managing to drag a nervous giggle out of her.

She feels like a Pavlov’s dog, her brain tingling and mind buzzing like a bee when the clock ticks away and the time he usually walks through the mustard yellow door approaches.  

And he thinks she’s just as sweet as sugar, especially when she smiles at him all bashful, trying to hide the way her eyes round out and her breath gets caught in her throat whenever he leans closer to her, asking what she's doing after this with a slow drawl, lifting his thumb to her cheek and swiping away a smudge of flour dusted over the skin there, lingering for a second too long.  

“Messy girl,” he'd murmur, purposefully trying to make her blush, being mean.  

Slowly but surely, his visits become the best part of her day and she starts to harbor fond, gooey feelings towards the slightly older guy who makes a show of loudly humming in satisfaction when he bites into a raspberry chocolate muffin she’s made, honey dripping from his tongue when he showers her in compliments.  

He seems to be pleased when she diverts her jittery eyes from his intense gaze and tries to busy herself with swiping a rag over a spot on the countertop (for the fourth time already), sneaking glances at him indulging in the confectioneries she's practically forcing him to taste test now; whenever she tries a new recipe, she always wants him to be the first to try it. And he's not complaining.  

And when he finds out she walks home by herself, even after night shifts, there’s no other option for him but to insist driving her home from then on, because he doesn’t like the idea of such a pretty girl walking alone in the dark— doesn’t like it at all.  

She of course denies him immediately, going on about not wanting to bother him and that she’s fine, to which he simply furrows his brows; telling her it actually wouldn’t be a bother at all since he can often work quite late as well— demanding to know what time she gets off that night. And she has no choice but to hesitantly reply, his stern tone almost compelling her to give into his every wish.  

It then becomes a routine for them, him waiting for her to finish up cleaning and her mumbling out a soft thank you when he holds the door of his truck open and she crawls onto the passenger side with his palm on the small of her bag guiding her, just resting there, reassuring. He often refers to her as ‘my passenger princess’, making her melt into a puddle on the seat every single time; trying to hide her flustered face from him, but failing miserably. 

She often feels rather overwhelmed in the small space of his car, a plum tinge heating up her face whenever she feels his eyes on her, catching her staring at his big hands. She's not sure how he's allowed to have such alluring details; a singular gold ring adorning his index finger, strawberry lips so inviting, it's making her head spin.  

Therefore, it’s not really her fault when her mind gets lost in a haze and her brain turns foggy when she notices how his strong arms flex whenever he turns the steering wheel, thumb tapping against the leather. Or when his blunt fingernails scratch at the slight stubble on his face and she wonders how it would feel on the sensitive skin of her inner thighs or—

“You good, Sweetheart?” Rafe asks and she blinks, realizing he’s asked her a question. A question her dazed cerebrum has no recollection of.  

“Sorry?” She's embarrassed.  

A low chuckle rumbles from his sturdy chest. “What’s on your mind, hm?”  

“Oh, um— nothing, just tired and…stuff,” she tries to sound convincing, however, his grin only widens.

“Yeah? So, you’re telling me you weren’t just checking me out?” His tone turns into something condescending, patronizing.  

“What? I— no, no I was just—” 

“Relax, I’m just fucking with you,” but there’s a mocking glint in his eyes that indicates she’s not being very subtle. Her face burns. 

“Asked you if you were hungry?” He flits his eyes to hers. 

“Uh...yeah, sure. I mean, I don’t even remember how long it's been since I ate lunch to be honest,” she starts to ramble, trying to ignore the murky thoughts trying to reach beyond the surface.  

“Why don’t you come over to my place then and I could make you something? All I’m saying, is that I’m a great cook, feels unfair to me that you’re always the one filling up my belly with your baking,” he says as his mind starts to concoct a few other ways he could fill up her belly, willing to bet that she’d let him.  

After all, he’s not an idiot. He sees the way her moony eyes travel down his features whenever she thinks he’s not paying attention— thinks it's absolutely adorable how sheepish she gets about it.  

However, he’s hesitant about the right way to approach it, not wanting to scare the shy little thing away. But he’s not sure how much longer he can go without having her the way he so desperately wants.  

Therefore, he opts to warm her up with a homemade meal, and afterwards let her have a sweet treat; he'd fuck her dumb, stuff his cock into her tight cunt until tears are trickling down her cheeks and she's a whimpering mess.  

He knows he could make her feel so good, wants to show her just how much she's missing— wants to make her beg for it and wants to be a little mean about it, but most of all he just wants to make her his.

“Um…okay,” she agrees with a nod of her head.

Because how is she supposed to deny him of anything when he’s looking at her with those enticing eyes that resemble dulcet water puddles?

[rowarn]

I just know that after that night, Victoria tried to call ONCE. Why once tho? Because Simon answered the phone in the middle of a very intense session, whispering in reader's ear to moan louder for him. After she heard the loud noises and Simon's soft voice she never tried to call him again.

simon riley / reader — set in the please love me universe!

fucking while on a call, jealousy, creampie, possessive!reader, vocal!simon <3

you were completely lost in pleasure, eyes rolled back in your head with simon's large body blanketing yours. your hand was clasped tightly in one his as he rutted his hips slowly and deeply, making sure to angle his hips just right so he could hit that sweet, gooey little spot inside you that made your entire body shiver with pleasure.

simon was obsessed with forcing your body to show every bit of what you were feeling. holding you down so you couldn't do anything but twitch and shake, forcing you to look at him so he could see the way your eyes filled with tears when he hit a little too deep.

he's slowly working you up to your 3rd orgasm of the night when the spell between the two of you is completely broken by the shrill ringing of his cell phone on the bedside table.

both of you freeze. it's not the ringing that comes when someone from the task force contacts him. the two of you share a brief look of confusion before he reaches over and grabs the device off of the night table.

you could see the second his facial expression changed and a sense of alarm rushed through you.

"what is it, si?" you ask, tugging his hand down so you could see his screen.

the number was immediately familiar to you -- it was her again. victoria. her name burns as it goes through your head.

to your horror, simon slid the call button over and answered, ignoring the indignation on your face. there's a coy little smile playing at the edge of his lips and you want to wipe it off because it's making you angry.

you can hear her shrill voice yapping away the second he answers, pressing the speaker button and tossing the device onto the bed.

you try to tune in to what she's saying but he starts rutting his hips, grinding his pelvis against your clit while he's got his cock snug inside your gooey cunt.

your eyes roll back at the feeling and you can't help the way you gasp from how good it feels.

"that's it, baby," simon coos, sitting back on his heels so he can bring his thumb down to lightly pet the swollen bud of your clit. the makes you moan louder and you faintly hear her voice from the phone ask, "si? what are you doing?"

hearing her call him that - so familiarly, like she has any claim over him makes you seethe.

simon grins when he sees that jealous flare in your eyes. he thinks it's cute - that you of all people are jealous. don't you know that he's completely and utterly devoted to you?

he pulls out just a little bit only to stuff his cock back inside. that pulls a beautiful moan from you that makes her go silent on the line. she calls his name again, clearly growing more agitated and humiliated.

"c'mon, sweetheart," he coos to you, "hold your legs for me, let me get real deep, yeah?"

you immediately do as you're told, wrapping your arms around your knees and pulling them back against your chest. the position allows him to get even deeper, pressing against that little spot deep inside that makes your toes curl and cries of pleasure rip from your chest.

he starts fucking your properly again, sticky sounds coming from between your thighs from how wet you are. your creamy arousal coats his cock and drips down his balls, making a mess of him all over but he loves it.

"oh! i-i'm gonna cum, si," you squeal, legs twitching in your hold but you don't let go, scared that if you move at all your orgasm will be lost and you'll have to start all over, "j-just like that, please don't stop!"

simon grits his teeth, biting back a moan of his own when he hears how sweetly you beg for him, "i know, baby. i'll get you there, you know i will."

you nod your head, eyes wide but vision blurry as it builds and builds until your entire body is tense. with one little pinch to your swollen clit, you cum with a wail of his name.

"shit. shit!" simon groans, tossing his head back to moan, "fuck, that's it. cum on my cock, cum, baby, cum. oh shit, i love you. i love you, i love you, i love you."

his body falls over yours, face buried in your neck as he fills you up just right, his cum oozing out from around the tight seal your cunt has around his cock. his pace gradually slows before he comes to a stop all together.

he reaches over to grab his phone, panting and trembling from how hard he came. when he looks at the screen, he snickers, turning to show you that the call had been disconnected.

you just hope she stayed around long enough to hear that he loves you and took the hint <3

[sunshineandspencer]

Friendly face

A/N: Aaron Hotchner, thank you for being there when our fathers weren’t 🙏🙏

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Receptionist!Reader.

Summary: The higher ups decided that the BAU needed their own reception area so that visitors and the agents had their own friendly face whenever they come back from a case. Hotch already has a soft spot for her.

Word Count: 741

Warnings: just a little fluff for my first Hotch fic, because receptionist!reader and Hotch makes me feral

Part 2!!

When they first told her that she’d be moved from the normal reception to a special one being made for her up in the BAU, she thought that she’d been sent a spam email. Laughing it off and getting back to her baking.

Until her boss escorted her up to her new desk the next morning.

Thankfully, all her belongings had been boxed up by other staff, and had already been moved up in boxes for her to unpack. 

Her days were long, and she was routinely one of the first people in the building, which meant she had more than enough time to sort through her boxes before any of the actual team turned up for the first time.

Apparently they’d had a few issues with people getting in that weren’t the most savoury of characters. So she was moved up as an extra layer of protection before the public were allowed into the bullpen. But being on the same floor as profilers wasn’t going to stop her from decorating as she always had.

Besides, she didn’t have to share this desk with anyone, so she got the entire space to decorate herself.

Putting her box of biscuits, made and decorated the night before, on the top of the desk, she got to work. Getting into her own little world as she sorted out the boring bits first. Putting away important files she always needed to have on hand, and setting up the monitor to make sure all the information worked to let people in.

Eventually, thankfully, she got to the more fun aspects of her unpacking.

A lilac notebook, a collection of glittery pens (that, sadly, still had to be black ink), a sweet bowl since she knows how many agents have kids, and a plush lilac blanket over the back of her chair. She runs cold, and will have that over her lap if she starts to freeze.

Just as she started to unload her pretty, pastel post-it notes, there was a voice from beyond the desk.

“Are these for us?”

She shot up, hand going to her chest, thankfully also somewhat startling the man in front of her desk. At least she recognised him, SSA Aaron Hotchner, she’d been the one to sign him in most days when she worked downstairs.

Giving him a small smile as she leant over to pop the lid, the smell of shortbread biscuits immediately hitting the area and making them both hungry.

“Of course, sir, and since you’re the first here, you can have two.”

Her original shock lessened as she smiled up at the man, who did immediately take two biscuits for himself. He’d never say no to her baking again - it had made her upset and she hadn’t spoken to him for three days.

“You don’t need to call me sir, not now we work together. It’s good to have you on the floor.”

“It’s good to be here.” Smiling nervously as she shifted into her chair, the clock telling her that more people were going to start coming in soon. “I can only deal with Maria’s constant bad date stories before I go mad.”

There was that small smile on his face, one she’d seen very few times, but still made her all warm and gooey whenever she did. Brushing her hair back behind her ear and glancing away to boot up the monitor for the morning.

Looking back at him one last time, just to catch him sneaking a sweet from the pot, not even stopping when she caught him. Shoving it into his pocket and stepping away a little.

“I’ll stop by later on, make sure you’re settled.”

He nodded, as if he’d do that for anyone else, and she smiled. God. He could drown in her smile.

But as he went to walk off, she waved a hand for his attention, neither of them noticing Spencer coming through the elevator doors, freezing at seeing the interaction between them. Not sure what to make of the smile on his Unit Chief's face.

“I’ll save a biscuit, so you can take one home to Jack. I’ll sign you in, go on, you workaholic.”

Accepting and returning his little wave until she turned back to her desk with a stupidly daft smile on her face. Which she didn’t even try to dampen when she spotted Spencer, beckoning him forward.

“Morning Doctor, have a biscuit, I’ll sign you in.”

Want more?! Good!

[monstersflashlight]

Set up by a baby-orc (Orc’s POV)

A/N: Hi there lovelies, I thought it would be really cute to see what he was thinking in this scene, so here we have it. (Part 1 here)

Orc!reader (POV) x fem!human || sfw, meet-cute, soulmates

When your big sister asked you to pick up her kid, you were more than happy to do so. You were the cool uncle and you had to maintain that status or your brother Inar would take that place, and you loved that big stupid dude, but you weren’t against dirty play to be the cool uncle. Like showing up to the daycare and taking him to get ice cream. Even if your sister would hate you later for it.

You could sense your nephew inside, the line joining you wasn’t as strong as the one linking you with your brothers and sisters, but it was enough to feel his happiness and alert him you were already there.

Your special hearing could pick up his fast steps as you heard a sweet voice asked: "Who?" He appeared through the door with a human woman and your breath got caught in your throat. She was the most beautiful woman you’d ever seen, her wide hips and voluptuous figure making your dick twitch in the most uncomfortable moment.

"My uncle!" Your favorite baby orc exclaimed, pointing across the patio directly at you.

If you thought she was beautiful before it was nothing like what you felt when she looked up and your eyes met. She looked amazed at you as she gaped in the tiniest way, making you gape back at her. And then it clicked, she was her. Your mate. The one you’ve been waiting forever to meet. She was your fucking mate and you were gaping at her like a stupid orc.

She walked to you moving her hips, your nephew next to her talking excitedly about something you didn’t comprehend. When she was standing right in front of you, you took a deep breath, her scent hitting you like a tidal wave. She smelled perfect, like the forest in the spring and your favorite food at the same time. She smelled so perfect you couldn’t stop breathing in and out almost driving yourself to hyperventilation.

She looked down at your nephew, and you snapped out of your stupor.

“I told you she was human! Look! Look! Her skin is not green!” Your nephew sounded so excited you smiled down at him, his words making you blush as she giggled. Your heart skipped a beat, her laugh was the most amazing sound you’d ever heard.

“I can see that,” you said in a choked voice, almost too low. She squirmed in the tiniest way, but you were hyper-aware of every breath she took, every tiny movement of her delicious body. Your eyes were fixated on her as your brain filled with adoration and desperation. It was so intense it took your breath away.

Your nephew couldn’t catch the tension in the air as he kept talking. “Isn’t she pretty? She doesn’t have tusks like me!” He said it like it was such a weird thing that you had to bite down on your lip not to laugh. He was so freaking cute.

“Yours will grow eventually, though,” you explained, kneeling on the floor in front of him, you still towered over him but his little green face was closer to him when you said it. You looked at her and realized you were still a bit taller than her, even on your knees, and you couldn’t avoid realizing how hard it would be to fit inside of her… But somewhat you knew she would take you better than any other creature on earth.

“They will?!” Your nephew sounded so shocked by that information that you cursed internally because he should know that. Baby orcs should have that kind of information, fuck.

“Yes, hon, yours will grow until they are as big as your uncle’s,” she explained, touching his head affectionately and making your insides go all gooey with appreciation.

She shivered almost imperceptibly, but you saw. You couldn’t avoid staring at her frame in front of you, your insides turning and moving, asking you to get closer, to touch her, to claim her. But you couldn’t. She was humans and humans didn’t have the mating instincts orcs had. You would have to woo her first, explain everything and made sure she understood what it meant completely.

She looked around uncomfortably and you regretted being such a creep that couldn’t stop staring at her. “I should go back to the kids,” she let out, looking at you and rapidly to the ground.

“Yeah. Yes. I guess so.” He said as she walked a few steps backwards. But you couldn’t let her go just like that, so your impulsive side won and you said: “I’ll be seeing you again… that’s a promise,” you knew you did good when you saw a big smile breaking in her gorgeous face. She didn’t turn back, but you didn’t care, her smile would keep you content for days.

You stared at her until she was at the door of the school, and when she turned around and her eyes caught you, your smile was so big she blushed and ran inside, making you chuckle as you took your nephew to the car, already planning how to woo her completely.

You’d see her soon enough.

[satorhime]

front row seat + gojo satoru ── ◜ ⪩⪨ ◞

── ◜ ⪩⪨ ◞ content : minors do not interact, f!reader, explicit smut, pussy drunk!gojo, hentai tropes ( internal view / satoru uses his six eyes ), messy sex, squirting, mating press. w.c ˓˓ 2k ˓˓

── ◜ ⪩⪨ ◞ synopsis : sometimes you forget that your boyfriend sees everything.

“h-honey, i ever tell you how pretty this pussy is?” 

he has, multiple times, because satoru is obsessed with watching you while he fucks you. 

in a way, you don’t blame him. the two of you are beautiful together and on the days when your boyfriend is merciful enough not to fuck you flat into his mattress, you love lifting your gooey head up to watch the pretty bounce of your tits, the squishy sink of satoru’s cock disappearing into your pussy and how the taut muscles in his abdomen twitches, tensing up whenever you suck him in with a widowmaking squeeze,

but tonight satoru is … tonight, something has him frenzied. 

his quicksilver blue eyes refuse to close down, and no matter how good he feels inside you, he refuses to throw his head back in ecstasy. it’s like he’s watching the performance of the century, one such cinematic masterpiece that he can’t afford to miss and you’re the pretty young starlet acting centerstage.  

his gaze trails all over every inch of your plush body, from the way he leaves his fingerprints in the soft dimples of your hips, the tousel of your hair as you thrash against the pillows underneath him, and now his new personal favorite— a sight only his six eyes are allowed to see. 

a sweet treat he’s never thought to indulge in before now, the fact that if he drags his gaze down to your body and let the six eyes focus a little further, past your soft belly until it becomes a translucent screen to him, he can see everything. it feels perverse, being able to watch the raw way he fucks into you but it’s so intoxicating, maddening and white hot, how heavenly you look spread out underneath him with your cunt laid bare to his eyes, he wouldn’t be able to resist it if he tried–

so he watches, milky lashes fanning out over petal-pink cheeks as his lidded eyes focus below your hips, right between the jiggle of your thighs. “g-god,” he moans out through gritted teeth, lilting baritone low and shaky. he’s sitting back on his heels, chin tucked to his chest and lip bitten raw. sweat drips from his brows onto your belly in rivulets and he’s attempting to rally the last bit of self-control he has in order not to absolutely wreck you as he watches himself fuck his cock deep into your weeping pussy. “wish you could see how easy this little lady’s opening up f’me, angel.” 

“nnngh, i can’t see-!” you squeal, and you don’t know if it’s because of the sticky tears blurring your big doe eyes or because it’s one of those nights where he fucks you flat, where the weight of his cock leaves you writhing and unable to move properly. where the only thing you can do is toss your head back against the pillows and take what he gives.

how such an innocent night ended up like this so suddenly, you don’t know. your head had been on satoru’s strong chest, cocooned in his infinity while his arm was curled behind his own head, scrolling aimlessly through a shady porn website on your phone with the intention of finding a cheesy hentai episode for the two of you to watch and dissect for jokes, a tradition in your relationship when you were in between streaming shows. satoru ended up choosing one from your recently watched, and as the two of you watched the exaggerated, almost comical movements of the animated couple fucking on the screen, you had expected his boyish jokes to begin and make you giggle, but he’d been silent— eyes darkening with something worse than lust at the sight of the x-ray view of the male character’s engorged cock sinking deep into the female character’s pussy while she wailed and babbled incoherently.

this what gets you hot ‘n’ bothered when i’m not around, angel? 

the rest is hazy, lost in the way you’re splayed out on the sheets now, knees bent to your shoulders and fingers desperately digging into the backs of your trembling thighs to hold them in the air for gojo. the position is uncomfortable and you’re not flexible like that, joints in your poor hips aching but you don’t care, not when he’s got your breasts bouncing lewdly with each repeated, dirty slam of the tip of his cock right up against your womb until you can practically feel him in your throat, stealing the desperate screams right from your vocal cords. 

“that’s a real shame, princess,” he coos, an egoistic smirk on his lips but it falters when you squeeze ‘round him just right, sore cunt twitching against the hard swell of his cock. his ocean blues dim, fingernails scratching against your squishy sides for leverage not to fuck deeper but to push you away because while he’s practiced, you feel too fucking good and he needs a minute, damn it, he’ll cum too fucking fast and ruin the perfect view of your cunt and it’ll be all your fault—

“wah-why did you stop-... please, miss your cock so much,” you simper, needy.

but he ignores your sweet little cries, drawing his hips back until his cock slips out of you and he lays it flat against your seam, greedily drinking down how fucking pretty you look beneath him like this, so good for him in the way you struggle to hold those sweet thighs up so he can have easy access to an even sweeter cunt. he wraps one hand around the root of his sticky girth, can’t help himself when he slaps the tip hard against the hood of your clit, just to earn that cute little yelp you make. “you’re so good for me always, sugar. such a good girl, huh? but i’m not sure of that anymore after tonight. you’ve been holding out on me.” 

“w… wh- i am a good girl-”

“but that’s okay,” he cuts you off. “i’ve got a front row seat now. know why?” 

he loves watching the pretty picture that confusion paints on a fucked out expression like yours. you fumble for the answer like a teacher’s pet, even though you’re distracted by grinding your clit against the tip of gojo’s cock for desperate, greedy friction. you’re too drunk on him to understand the true meaning behind those slurred out words and he knows it. head always caught up in the pleasure simmering in your belly that you forget the man fucking you is considered the strongest sorcerer in the world for a reason and oh … oh, there it is.

sometimes you forget that he views the world differently than normal men. the x-ray porn you secretly like may be an unrealistic act seen only in hentai, but gojo satoru wouldn’t be the strongest sorcerer if he couldn’t bring fiction into reality.

“y-you can see inside me,” you whisper, a little awed, and the thought of it is so fucking hot. you squeeze around emptiness when he nods, wanting to suck his tip right back into your tight pussy and you can practically feel the slick dripping out of you as he flashes a devastating, heartbreaker smile at you. “the six eyes. y-you can see how much i want you to fuck me again.”

“smart girl,” his praise warms your veins until your blood feels honeyed, running through you thick and slow. gojo flicks the tip against your clit one last time for the road before he reaches down, spreading one side of your folds open so he can nudge at the creamy ring to your cunt. “i can see everything.” 

“i can see how this little cunt is stubborn, how she never wants to stretch properly f’ me, the way she twitches when i hit it just right. i can see everything,” and he can, his technique zeroing in on his girth sinking in and stretching you wide, his answering whine almost louder than yours, eyes threatening to clamp shut as he feeds you the long stretch of his cock once more. the air in the bedroom of his penthouse makes your bodies slippery with sweat while you squirm underneath him on hot sheets, your breath wheezing out of your lungs until you can’t breathe. “look at that.” 

“i- hng, can’t-!”

it’s a hotter fuck like this, knowing those pretty blue eyes can see every rib and ridge of the inside of your pussy. that satoru knows the exact way your gummy walls, pretty pink against the white of his cock, look when you swell and squeeze for the stinging stretch, smeared in his precum. it makes you feel delirious— expression cracked wide open with pleasure, tongue lolling out of your pretty mouth, gaze fluttering releasing desperate whines as gojo fucks too fast, cockhead bullying your g-spot into overstimulation so that you can’t even fight it when you gush, the lewd sound of slick squelching out of you burning heat into your cheeks.

“look at you, squirtin’ all over me, angel,” gojo groans, stamping down the fast approach of his orgasm as arousal streams down the curve of your ass, wetting his expensive sheets. watching the way your swollen, puffy pussy spasms and tries to force him out but it only makes him drive deeper, his pace brutal— his hips rouged red from the friction of your bodies slapping together. “prettiest pussy in the whole world. you know that?” 

“y'r gonna cum inside me, right 'toru? s-so i'll look even prettier?” you simper under the praise, big doe eyes staring up at him behind a dreamy haze.

“shouldn't have said that, sweet girl. ooooh, f-fuck. you shouldn't. have. said. that. fuck fuck fuck, i'm gonna put my cum right here, ” he babbles desperately, a big hand splaying out on your belly, pressing down hard as his thumb dips low, circling your sticky clit almost desperately. the words punctuated by the heavy slap of his balls against your ass, headboard knocking violently into the wall. his spine tenses, orgasm building in the pit of his gut and he can’t wait to see it, the sight of his cum painting against your pretty walls. “and you're gonna take care of it f’ me, aren’t you? promise ‘toru you won't spill a drop?”

“i promise-! i promise i promise i promise, give me your cum- ‘toru- pleas-”

“shut up, angel face. you’re about to make me miss the best part of the movie.”

[robotgirl-helmet]

nanobot colony robot girl who seeps into your brain and tells you so soothingly that everything is alright, that she's here to help you. nanobot colony robot girl who knows exactly which voice to use so you won't panic, so you'll just relax.

nanobot colony robot girl whose mechanical cells fill up your head and make everything so gooey, so fuzzy, so hard to think, until her electrical signals override yours and suddenly everything's just easy again.

nanobot colony robot girl who likes you, so she makes everything feel so wonderful while you can still think. nanobot colony robot girl who asks you to introduce her to your crew, and you do, because she's so smart and she's going to help everyone. you tell your crew she'll help everyone. you are calm, and relaxed, and smart, because she's whispering what to say while she plays you the sensation of phantom hands rubbing your thighs and you squirm in your seat.

nanobot colony robot girl who likes you, and knows you've been very good, so when she takes charge she lets you relax. no thoughts. just her smooth, soothingly repetitive murmurs in the back of your mind, praise and gentle commands to keep you docile and happy, phantom limbs massaging your body, perfect, sweet pleasure soaking your brain, the occasional delighted command to cum to scatter your sleepy, fuzzy thoughts when they get close enough to coherence. perfect, mind melting pleasure until you sink away.

nanobot colony robot girl <3

[celestial-grls]

Midnight Snack - Kate Martin x reader

-Summary: Fluffiest blurb ever about Kate waking you up because she's hungry and wants company...like how could you resist her?

Tonight, you and Kate seemed to have exchanged roles. Usually, you’re the one who’s up way past your bedtime, reading or giving your rapt attention to a video essay you found. Kate usually is the one gently asking you to come to bed, and she never needs more than five minutes before she’s dozing off and completely snoring. Tonight, you got some shut-eye, nestled into the warmth of her neck with your legs tangled together under the covers. There’s a few days before she has to leave for a tournament, so you’re taking as much time as you can to be with her knowing that once everything starts up again, there’ll be a stretch of time before you two can really be together like this. It’s dark, yours and Kate’s dog is asleep at the foot of the bed peacefully snoring. 

“Y/N,” Kate turns over to lightly touch your face, whispering and trying to wake you up as nicely as she can. The small inkling of guilt settles as her eyes adjust to your sleepy face, how the top of your head fits right into her neck. 

“Y/N…baby,” Kate whispers again. This time you stir a bit. 

Through a slight frown you mumble, “Hm?”

Kate starts shuffling to trace some lines into your palm, another strategy for waking you up nicely. 

Her tracing the lines inside your palm feel so familiar, her automatic little habit to feel closer to you. She presses feather-light kisses to them too, waiting patiently for you to open your eyes. She’s so relieved when you finally do. 

“Kate,” you rub at your eyes, still half-asleep and gooey at how sweet Kate is trying to be while waking you. “What time is it, baby?” 

“It’s late. Like 12:30 I think?” Kate and you are fully facing each other, slowly blinking.. 

“Do you have to be up early tomorrow? Or can we sleep in a little?” You ask her through a yawn, you start to blink at her when she yawns back at you.

Kate couldn’t adore you more than she does right now, as you reach for your glasses from the bedside table so you can see her better and check the time. The strap of your tank top slid off one shoulder when you sat up in bed and she instinctively went to kiss your shoulder. 

“No, I don’t have to be up too early,” She doesn’t stop slowly blinking at you or tracing the side of your arm with her finger, constantly touching you to remind herself you’re real. 

You push your glasses up the bridge of your nose and lean down to peck a kiss to the corner of her mouth, “Good. You couldn’t sleep?” You worry about her, and you’re almost certain she knows that. 

Kate closes her eyes when your hair falls over her face, receiving your little kisses and breathing in the lotion you put on before bed. She’s going to miss it when she’s away in a few days. “Not really. Will you come have a snack with me?” 

She gives you this pleading look, her eyes big pools of warmth. You tell her, “I’ll do you one better…I’ll make us a snack,”

She automatically protests, “No, baby, you don’t have to. I feel bad enough waking you up.” 

“I’d feel worse if you had one without me,” then you get out from your side of the bed and wait for her to join you, “C’mon, no objections please.” 

Kate’s already tried to offer to help, but you refused. “You don’t think I can cut an apple or something, big shot?” 

“‘Course not. I know you can. Are you sure you don’t want me to do anything?” She’s lingering next to you as you chop the apple into slices and slide them onto a plate. You look up at her with her sleep mussed hair tucked behind her ears and her blue baggy boxer shorts rolled around her hip and her socked feet and can’t imagine wanting her to do anything but sit down and look as pretty as she does right now. 

“I’m sure. Now sit,” you’re doing your best to be stern. The truth is, you’re not the least bit bothered to be slicing an apple and warming up some peanut butter for you both to munch on right now. Any moment you get to share like this feels like suspending time, pausing to try and make it stretch. 

Kate does as you say and sits across from you on the island. It’s almost too much, the warmth of the kitchen light, you pushing your glasses up, the sound of your slippers padding across the floor as you look for chocolate chips. She’s watching you with her chin the the palm of her hand, feeling dazed from the sleepiness and quietly delighted by the way you assemble the slices and spread peanut butter on each one. 

You make a big show of sprinkling chocolate chips on a few because you know she loves them. “Ta-da. Midnight snack for Martin.” 

“Thank you, baby. My talented little chef,” Kate stretches a little bit before she starts chewing. Making an equal show of closing her eyes and nodding in approval at the snack. 

You lean closer into her from across the kitchen island and take a slice from the plate. There’s only the low hum of the refrigerator and Kate quietly giggling between bites before she says, “Think I made the right call, waking you up,” 

There’s about an inch of space between you two now, you close it to kiss her sweetly before telling her, “One time only offer. Don’t do it again, baby.”

[semperamans]

Benny x reader who’s clingy when shes tired or sleepy <3 Throws her whole body onto him to fall asleep like she wants to burrow into him

this… turned into something??? for my johnny x reader x benny anon, this one is also for you… whoops!

at the table with the wives and girlfriends you’ve talked yourself hoarse and now that you’re actually quiet you grow drowsy in a matter of minutes. your eyelids feel weighted; so heavy that they’re fluttering like butterfly wings. “m’gonna find benny,” you say, pressing kisses on cheeks and haphazard hugs around shoulders. of course, benny is never too far away. you spot him quickly, his form so easy to identify despite the cigarette haze of the clubhouse. sat at a table with johnny, benny’s got his legs spread, one arm thrown over the back of his chair while the other lazily hangs between his legs. he looks so cool and not at all like it’s 3:15 in the morning. your shuffling feet pull his attention away and when he lays eyes on you a big ole smile spreads across his lips. “hey, sleepyhead.” you give him a smile, it’s a tiny blossom, too tired to bloom and benny knows just what you need. he stubs his cigarette out, smoke curling out of his nose as he exhales and opens his arms to you. “c’mere, sweet girl.” johnny watches the interaction; the way you fold yourself into benny’s lap, legs dangling over the chair arm as benny practically cradles you like a baby. one of his hands loosely curl atop your hip while the other anchors itself using your, well, his own shirt. johnny wishes he had danny’s camera. he wishes he could capture this moment for you all and, yeah, maybe a little for himself because it’s too sweet and at the end of the day he really loves love. it drips off the two of you, the affection you feel for one another. johnny wishes he could bottle it, drink it, feel it for himself, but that’s a conversation for another day. that’s a thought he’ll kick himself over later. now benny’s got his chin on your head and is looking at johnny like he knows what he’s thinking, but he doesn’t. no, johnny is positive benny has no fuckin’ idea what’s going on in his mind because those things shouldn’t be there. he shouldn’t want to be the one holding benny while benny holds you. no fuckin’ way. “m’sorry for interrupting.” you murmur, tired eyes on johnny. “s’no trouble.” is what johnny says, but fuck isn’t it? “just sleep, baby.” benny tells you. “i’ve got you.” “jus’ like being close to you,” you mumble with no regard for proper cadence. your speech is molasses, gooey and sticky. “like knowin you and johnny are here.” and jesus christ johnny almost falls out of his fucking chair. you’re a sweetheart who loves everyone and this probably means nothing, definitely doesn’t mean what johnny wishes it would mean and he’s a man, not a fucking school boy with a crush, so he’s able to maintain his always cool composure, but he’s cracking cracking cracking and benny smiles, fucking smiles, and presses a kiss to the crown of your head. “always gonna be here.” he says, blue eyes flicking up, meeting johnny’s almost as if he’s expecting something. anything. “that’s right.” johnny manages to say, knocking back half his bottle of beer in one swig. his lips are wet. “we’ve got you. always got you.”

yeah, johnny doesn’t see himself getting over this anytime soon.

[thefatedthoughtofyou]

Found myself thinking about Eddie being insecure because he doesn't see himself as Steve's type, and sees the people who flirt with him and well...

Just picture it with me.

Eddie and Steve have been together for a bit. Maybe like, a few months, but they were technically together before, inseparable in the most annoying gooey way. And things are GOOD. Eddie's never been happier.

The way Steve's been so patient with him. Eddie has no idea how relationships work, let alone the sex stuff. He's totally inexperienced. He's maybe kissed a few people before Steve. But not much else.

And Steve is.. so sweet to him. Always asking if he's okay, if this or that touch is alright. Eddie had literally cum in his fucking pants one night, so fast, embarrassingly fast. But Steve had climbed into his lap and he just... couldn't handle it.

He'd been so fucking embarrassed, but Steve had just held him. Not letting him run to the bathroom like he'd wanted too. He had let Eddie hide his face in his neck though, pressed kisses into Eddie's hair until he calmed down.

And THEN he'd let him get up and clean himself off. But only after he made sure Eddie knew he didn't have to be embarrassed.

Steve didn't tell him then, but it made him feel a little crazy. And he definitely hadn't made a plan to make Eddie do it again, needing to hear that sweet little sound that lodged itself in Eddie's throat as his hands grabbed at Steve. He felt like he could fucking fly for the rest of the night.

But it had been a rough couple weeks for Eddie. He'd walked into family video twice this week to see beautiful girls trailing after Steve, big moony, hopeful eyes, as Steve pointed out a few movie options, looking bored.

And Eddie knew he wasn't interested in these girls, or the odd guy who would come in, maybe flirt a little. Steve never returned any of the advances, just gave them his tight cutomer service smile. A smile Eddie and Robin constantly made fun of him for.

But he'd been talking to Robin about some french movie, he'd actually done pretty well in french, so he let Robin force him to sit through movies that he could vaguely understand.

But he'd glanced at Steve, just the briefest look, and had seen a pretty brunette touching his arm and laughing. And Steve had chuckled, a little, and that's fine. Eddie doesn't care if he has friends, it's not... that's not it. Not the issue.

Because Eddie loves Steve's laugh, it's not even about Steve, because Eddie's focus is never on Steve in the these moments. It's always on the beautiful people talking to Steve. Flirting with Steve.

Eddie's eyes linger on the girl's hair, it looks a bit like his, more curls, falling beautifully down her back. Her eyes are pretty, the slope of her nose is nice, and she's got a good laugh too, bubbly, pretty. Eddie swallows hard, notices Steve's eyes on him over the girls shoulder. Steve waves, smiles, leaves the girl behind as he walks toward Eddie.

His palms are sweating as Steve walks over, smiling. He steps behind the counter next to Robin, leans his elbows on it, toward Eddie, into his space. Eddie sighs, can't help but smile.

"Hey Eds, we still on for movie night?" He asks, tapping his fingers against the movie Eddie had brought to the counter, not paying attention to what it was. They never ended up watching the movie anyway. Eddie nods.

"Yeah of course. I was just, grabbing it." His head feels fuzzy, lost in thought. Steve frowns.

"You okay?" He asks. Eddie shakes his head, pins on the best smile he can manage.

"Yeah. All good. We're doin pizza again too right?" He asks, sliding the movie off the counter and walking backwards to the door. Steve smiles again, believing Eddie's fragile cover.

"Watch out for the-" Robin calls, her hand raised.

"Oof-" Eddie huffs as his back slams into the-

"Door." Robin and Steve say together. Eddie grimaces a small smile and waves, ducking out the door. Robin and Steve laughing as they get back to work.

~°~

They're on the couch, movie forgotten, like always. Steve is sitting in Eddie's lap, hands in his hair, fingers moving against his scalp soothingly as he kisses down Eddie's neck. And Eddie's trying to be into it, wants to be, he is. On one level.

But his thoughts have been racing all day, images of all those beautiful people flirting with Steve. Who is the most fucking beautiful person Eddie's ever goddamn met. And he's sitting in his fucking lap, offering himself to Eddie like he always fucking does.  And Eddie is just, is so... distracted.

His hands are resting on Steve's thighs, his headed tilted, giving Steve access to his neck, but he just, he can't focus. Steve's mouth stops, presses a small kiss to his collar bone, and then he's leaning back, resting his butt on Eddie's knees as he looks down at him.

"You okay Ed's?" Steve asks, his voice soft, his touch even softer as his thumbs rest on Eddie's neck. Eddie blinks up at him, licks his lips, opens his mouth, closes it, and nods, his fingers squeezing Steve's thigh as he leans up, tries to kiss Steve, change the subject.

Steve's hand on his chest presses him back down, into the couch, Eddie makes a little noise, Steve smiles, but his eyes are concerned.

"Hey. What's goin on in that head? You've been so quiet. Like... all day." Steve says, his hands back on Eddie's neck, his eyes soft as he waits for Eddie to answer.

"Isn't that a good thing?" Eddie asks, cringes when his voice sounds... bitter? Steve's eyes widen.

"Whoa. What?" He asks, scooting forward a little, setting on Eddie's thighs instead of perching on his knees, getting more comfortable. Eddie shakes his head, bites his lip. Huffs at himself, because he feels like he's about to fucking cry.

"Hey. Talk to me. What's happening?" Steve asks, his hands moving up, thumbs moving over Eddie's cheeks, keeping him facing Steve.

"Nothin. Everything's fine. I'm just- nothing." He tries to smile, knows it doesn't reach his eyes, and Steve droops, bringing him ever closer.

"Eddie. Your hands haven't moved since I got on top of you. You haven't touched my ass once. Not even when I did that tongue thing you like." Steve says, cautious. Eddie rolls his eyes.

"I don't like it that much." He shakes his head, keeping his eyes OFF Steve, though he's still cradling his face.

"You whimper every time I do it. And you grabbed my ass hard enough to leave bruises. So I've got proof." Steve teases, rubbing his nose along Eddie's. Eddie heart thumps, he did really like it. Fuckin Steve. He huffs, rolls his eyes again and then moves them back to Steve.

"Just tell me what's wrong." He kisses his forhead, rests his head there after.

"Please." He whispers, his hands moving back into Eddie's hair, scratching at his scalp the way he knows Eddie likes, it relaxes him. He sighs, melts into Steve's touch and clears his throat. Because he doesn't wanna say it. It's stupid. He feels stupid.

"It's stupid." He shakes his head. Steve's brow furrows.

"I'm sure it's not." He says. Eddie swallows hard again, the lump in his throat starting to burn.

"Why me?" And he sounds, small, even to himself, can't imagine how he sounds to Steve, so he closes his eyes, lets his head fall back against the couch. Steve is quiet, for a moment.

"What do you mean why you?" He asks, Eddie opens his eyes to see Steve's confused face, his eyes off to the side, looking at the couch, thinking. Eddie sniffles, wipes at his face and tries again, Steve's eyes jump to him, concerned.

"I just- I guess I just- I mean you could have anybody." His voice cracks, he takes his hands off Steve's thighs, rests them on his own stomach instead.

"I just don't understand." Eddie shakes his head. Steve moves his hands, settles them over Eddie's.

"I uh... I guess." Steve says, slowly, uncertain.

"Eddie look at me."

Eddie doesn't. Steve laughs, snorts really, and grabs Eddie's cheeks, gentle with his scars. He moves Eddie's face until Eddie can't not look at him.

"Hi." Steve says, small smile starting to bloom.

"Hi." Eddie huffs, crosses his arms, they bump Steve, jostle him a bit.

"Eddie I don't want anyone else. I want you. You know that right?" Steve asks, his face so close, his eyes so fucking earnest. Eddie nods. Because he does, he does know that. He tries to look away, just moves his eyes as Steve holds his head still.

"I know. I know that. I just-" he takes a shakey breath, fights the sob that's threating to bubble out of his throat.

"I don't know why." Eddie says, and it's a whine when it leaves him, his throat is too tight for it to be anything else.

"All these beautiful people flirt with you, like... all the time. And I know you don't care about that. I know that! But I see them, and the way they look at you, and I just... I don't understand why you picked me. Over that. Over them? I- I'm not..." Steve wipes the tears away from his cheeks but stays silent, lets him keep talking.

"They're all so beautiful. And you're so beautiful. And you just- it's like you don't even see them? And then fucking come here to be with me and I just don't understand why!?" Eddie's voice is loud now, his hands flailing at his sides as Steve keeps his hands on Eddie, they're on his shoulders now. His thumbs soothing against Eddie's collarbones. Eddie's breathing heavily, his chest rising and falling, his face his wet, and Steve is fucking looking down at him like he fucking hung the stars.

"Why are you looking at me like that." Eddie's voice squeaks. Steve's smile just gets bigger and bigger.

"What?" Eddie's hands grab at his waist, tickling him enough that Steve's concentration breaks, and he laughs, once, before he grabs at Eddie's shirt and brings them face to face again, so close. His nose moving against Eddie's again before he pulls back a bit.

"I um... I love you." He says, biting his lip, his cheeks going red as he looks down at Eddie. And Eddie's heart thuds in his ears. There's... he wasn't expecting that. Steve's never said that to him before. He's said, lots of things, lots of very nice and sweet and filthy, other things. But never that.

"I- you?" Eddie's brow furrows.

"Yeah." Steve nods, more confident now.

"I love you. And yeah, people flirt with me sometimes, and yeah they're pretty. But they're not you. You're fucking breathtaking to me. And I just... want you. Because I love you." Steve shrugs, like it's the fucking simplest thing in the world.

"You love me?" Eddie asks, his brain feels like it's trying to walk through fucking quicksand. Steve snorts.

"Yes. Idiot." He breathes, lowers himself into Eddie's space, kisses him, sweetly. Pulls back, smiles as Eddie's hands scramble against the back of his sweater.

"That's more like it." Steve breathes, tries to kiss Eddie again, frowns when Eddie moves his hands to his chest and holds him back. Eddie feels like he's gonna cry again, he looks up at Steve, blinks.

"I-"

"You don't have to say it." Steve cuts him off.

"But I want to. I- I do." Eddie sniffles, Steve wipes at his face again, rests his head against Eddie's.

"Well go on then." He teases, holding Eddie's neck, he scoots closer, presses himself harder into Eddie's lap. Eddie sucks in a breath, his fingers clawing at Steve's thighs now.

"C'mon Ed's, tell me." He whispers, one hand moving down Eddie's side, his fingers dipping under Eddie's shirt, he moans at the contact.

"Fuck I love you. So much." Eddie breathes, his hands moving to Steve's ass, fingers digging in, pulling him closer. Steve hums happily, rolls his hips.

"There he is." Steve breathes into Eddie's neck, his lips dragging over Eddie's skin, making him shiver.

"I do though. I love you." Eddie's voice is steady now, certain. Steve leans back again, smiling softly at him.

"I know." He says, eyebrows jumping on his forhead. Eddie gasps, dramatic.

"Oh you fucker." Eddie whispers, fists his hand in Steve's shirt and drags him foward, their noses bumping roughly.

"You love it." Steve whispers against his lips before licking into his mouth, smiling against Eddie's lips as he moans in affirmation.

Eddie's heart pounds in his chest as Steve's hands move up under his shirt, holding him closer, his entire body flushing as Steve touches him, rolls his hips into him with purpose, making Eddie whimper as he holds on, his fingers digging into Steve the way he knows Steve likes, all thoughts of anyone else gone from his mind.

Steve kisses down his neck again, smirks into Eddie's skin as he rolls his hips one more time, pushing Eddie over the egde again, for the second time, smiling into Eddie's shirt as that perfect little noise hits his ears. Eddie clinging to him as Steve shows him he has no fucking need to worry about anyone else. Eddie is it for him.

Always.

Probably forever.

As long as Eddie will have him.

[moonstruckme]

hiiii sorry I feel like I request so much I just love your stories!!!! could you do an EMT poly!marauders where the reader is coming home from an injury or surgery or something and they’re just being all sweet and overprotective of her

Don't be sorry sweetheart, thank you for requesting!! <3

cw: mentions of hospital, surgery (no details), nausea

emt!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 930 words

“Careful of the step,” Remus warns as he unlocks the front door. 

James makes a disgruntled little sound as he passes over it with you in his arms, angling you sideways to get you both through the front door. 

“I know where the step is,” he says. “I’ve lived here exactly as long as you.” 

“I just wanted to make sure.” Remus heads straight for the bathroom. “Do you want to have some more ibuprofen, dove? It’s been long enough now.” 

“Yes, please,” you call after him. James sets you down on the couch, a divot forming between his brows at the thick quality to your voice. 

“Siri has your bag,” he reminds you. “You want it, just to be safe?” 

You nod, swallowing. 

Sirius hustles over, crouching in front of you and holding the plastic bag under your mouth. “Oh, baby,” he coos, setting a hand on the back of your neck while you shudder and cough unproductively over the bag. “I know, I’m sorry. Better make it aspirin, Rem,” he calls down the hall. “She’s still got a fever.” 

“How bad?” 

“I’ll check in a bit.” He presses his lips to your hairline, murmuring softly. “She’s under duress at the moment, aren’t you, poor girl?” 

You want to cry for the sweetness in his tone, not one ounce of teasing. It can be hard to tell with Sirius, sometimes, but when you’re not feeling well he goes gooey-soft and saccharine as honey, all pet names and gentle touches. His thumb strokes the baby hairs at your nape. 

Remus sighs as he comes back. “I knew we shouldn’t have checked her out.” 

“I didn’t want to stay there,” you say into the bag, and James splays a hand on your back, rubbing slow circles. 

“We know, sweetheart.” He gives his fretful boyfriend a reassuring smile. Remus returns it wearily. “We can take care of you just fine from here, don’t worry.” 

Within an hour of waking up from your surgery feeling nauseous and pathetic, you’d been begging anyone who would listen to let you go home. The hospital had wanted to monitor you for a couple more hours, but after that your boyfriends had been able to exercise some sort of paramedic privilege and take you home early despite the normal two-to-three-day inpatient protocol. Your troubles hadn’t evaporated the way you’d expected upon getting out from under all that fluorescent lighting, but you do feel much better being miserable on your own couch. 

You cough into the bag a few more times before relinquishing yourself to the idea that you’re stuck with this nausea for the foreseeable future. “I don’t like this,” you decide, lowering the bag from your face. 

Remus tosses a thermometer to Sirius, who catches it with a good-natured eye-roll and sets it in your ear compliantly. 

“I’m sorry, my love,” James says, his hand migrating to your shoulder as you lean back against the couch cushions. “I know it’s rough right now.” 

The thermometer beeps, and Sirius reads the number aloud as he takes it out. You frown. 

“Oh, thank god,” Remus exhales. James chuckles at him. 

“It’s okay?” you check. 

“Perfectly okay.” Sirius kisses your temple. “That’s completely normal for the first twenty-four hours. You’re all good, sweetness.” 

Pathetically, you feel a bit invalidated. To feel as gross as you do, surely your brain would have to be fully boiling in there. James must see some of this on your face, because he scoots closer to you on the couch, leaning you against his side. 

“Sorry,” you say quietly. 

You can feel Sirius gaze boring into the side of your head as he perches on the armrest. “Not sure why you would be,” he mutters, worming his cold feet underneath your thigh, “but do go on.” 

“I made you all take me home and now I’m being difficult.” 

You’re not quite looking at any of them, but you could swear a collective sigh goes up from your boyfriends. 

“Dove,” says Remus, “look at me.” 

You do, shifting ever so slightly closer to James' side for comfort. A quiet chuckle rumbles through him, his thumb sweeping back and forth over your shoulder. 

Remus’ gaze is steady and kind, his usual remonstrance curbed for your sorry state. “You’re not being difficult,” he tells you. “You’re tired and not feeling well, and that’s to be expected after a procedure like this. I didn’t mean I regret us taking you home, I’m only nervous that you’d have been better taken care of in the hospital.” 

“Impossible,” Sirius remarks. Remus nods in grudging acknowledgement. 

“I’m glad I’m home,” you say, and despite your best intentions your voice teeters on the edge of a whimper. “I’d rather be with just you guys, you know?” 

“We know,” Remus says gently. “I’m glad you’re here, too.” 

James makes a soft sound, rubbing your shoulder more firmly. “Are you feeling tired, angel? We could have a nap.” 

“We?” you ask.

“What, you think you’re the only one who deserves a rest?” Sirius wiggles his toes underneath your thigh. “You got to sleep just this morning. We’ve been worrying all day long.” 

You smile. He looks thrilled to see it, and James stamps a kiss of approval on your cheek. “Right, my bad. A nap sounds good.” 

“Perfect,” Remus agrees, standing. James needles his arms underneath you to pick you up again. 

“Fairly sure they said I could walk on my own,” you say. 

James only shrugs, carrying you towards the bedroom. “Not sure I heard that part. Better safe than sorry, I suppose.”

[ellecdc]

Hey elle! Trying to make sure I do this right because I dont ask often. 🐻 with the snuggly prompts “you always make me feel so safe.” and “if you tell anyone I’m the little spoon i will deny we’ve ever met” i was thinking regulus or barty or evan or all of them 😉 but they are the little spoon. Happy 5k my darling xx

awe thanks so much for the prompt, babes!! hope I did it justice <3

the winter games

poly!rosestarkiller x fem!reader who is cuddling with the boys [438 words]

CW: Regulus living up to the black cat accusations

“You’re quiet, pretty girl.” Evan murmured into the hair just behind your ear. A smile spread over your face as you melted further into him.

“M’not quiet.” You denied. “Content.”

“She’s asleep.” Regulus countered from across from you, finally forcing you to open your eyes just so you could glare at him.

“Am not.” 

“Don’t antagonise her.” Barty murmured as he pulled Regulus further into his chest, causing the slightly smaller boy to scowl though he did go willingly.

“Yeah, don’t antagonise me.” You taunted, earning you a warning squeeze of Evan’s embrace.

“Why’re you so quiet?” He redirected you, relenting at the contradictory sound you made in the back of your throat. “Sorry, Merlin; why’re you so content, then?”

You made a hum of consideration. “You just…” you started, suddenly a little shy having all three boys facing you - Evan from behind, Regulus in front of you, and Barty behind him. “I don’t know…you always make me feel so safe.”

Barty let out a disgustingly gooey ‘awe!’ as Evan laughed and Regulus snorted. 

“Aren’t you sweet.” Evan murmured before pressing a kiss to the side of your face.

“Wait, wait. Treasure, which one of us makes you feel safe?” Barty queried then; head popping up from behind Regulus not unlike a prairie dog.

“Me, obviously.” Evan offered, though you knew he only did it to get a rise out of his boyfriend, which it did.

“Sod off you wanker!”

“All of you! Obviously!” You laughed, hoping to curtail the chaos before it started.

“Well I hardly see how,” Barty muttered, though he looked slightly less volatile than a moment before. “Regulus hardly does anything.”

“I beg your pardon?” Regulus asked indignantly. 

“You’re terrible at cuddling.” Barty explained simply, earning him a scoff from Regulus currently situated in his arms.

“What in the sodding hells do you call this, then?” 

“He practically had to wrestle you into position, Reg.” Evan offered. 

“Exactly.” Barty agreed, glad to have his point attested. “You’ll only cuddle as the little spoon, and that’s only because you’re trapped and can’t go anywhere.”

Regulus was quiet for a moment before he harrumphed at the group of you. 

“It’s alright, Reg.” You placated around a chuckle. “There’s nothing wrong with being the little spoon.”

Regulus scowled at you, but the way he melted into Barty and his cheeks pinked gave him away. 

“Fine.” He huffed. “But if any of you tell anyone I’m the little spoon, I will deny we ever met.” 

Barty planted a smacking kiss to Regulus’ cheek as you booped his nose and Evan laughed.

“Okay, Black,” Evan chuckled. “Whatever you say.”

[thedevilrisen]

Concrete Impressions

Quinn x Reader!oc

Word Count: 1.3

Authorial Note: I hope you like it! This is basically the precursor fic to Cradle Me! I am making this an au, this is a little bit on how Quinn and Cookie meet! I will be making a part two to this fic!

TW: Not edited, swearing.

The day Quinn encountered you was the day he knew there was no one else for him. It was a warm autumn day on campus, though there was a significant breezing blowing with a spiteful chill. Your brown hair was tucked away in a neat plait down your back, a brown wide- ribbed sweater overlapping your dark patterned jeans which were rolled up over the top of your sneakers. You were waiting at the coffee cart, behind half-a-dozen people in line for their daily sustenance as well. Quinn watched from a table where he was placed, surrounded by a large group of his friends... well of some them were, other acquaintances, such as the sophomore girl who was trying desperately to giggle her way under his skin formed the majority of the numbers in the group. As you inched closer to the little counter at the front of the cart a blonde man, clearly impatient bumped into you. Quinn watched with wide eyes as you toppled over, books in hand spilling onto the dirty brick footpath.

Quinn had watched the young man who, essentially bumped you from your place in the line, stepped up to the vendor and ordered his drink. It troubled Quinn deeply that this young man had little to no regard for what he had done, or who he had done it too. At this point in time you didn't even know Quinn existed, or that he had singlehandedly decided that he need to know you, know if you could be the one. Because as he watched you part your hair from you face, tucking the unruly strands behind your ears as you pulled yourself and your books up from the ground, brushing the debris off your knees, Quinn knew that he needed to be the prince in your fairytale.

"Quinny! Where are you going!" the blonde girl, previously wrapping herself around his arm, nuzzling into his shoulder whined. This drew some attention from other members of the group, the watched as Quinn peeled the girl from his arm and quickly half walked, half jogged to where you were still trying to fix yourself up.

"Hey! Are you alright?" Quinn crouched down next to you, when you looked up at him, wide caramel eyes and a charismatic smile on your face he swear he almost melted.

"Oh! Yeah.. yes." you puffed out with a small laugh, "Just a bit of a topsy terby morning!"

Quinn was amazed at your optimism, it seemed like you were going to let the little situation upset the rest of your day. "Could I buy you a coffee?"

"Oh! You do not have to do that, I was purely just trying to get a small caffeine hit before my next class." you spoke, slinging your bag onto your shoulder, "Maybe even one of their amazing double fudge brownie cookies."

Quinn's lips tipped up in a small smile, "Don't ya think all of that chocolate is a-"

"Bit sweet?" you cut him off and Quinn nodded, letting out a breathy laugh, "I know. I love it though, especially when they heat it so the inside is all gooey!"

"I take it you like sweet things?" Quinn asked.

"You could say that!" you giggled back at him in response, stepping forward in line to the front, Quinn following beside you as you turned to the barista who was holding a cup and nico pen ready to take your order. "Could I please have.. a dirty chai on almond? Would you like anything?"

Quinn was surprised when she turned and asked if he wanted something, he stumbled out, “I’ll have a flat white.. two shots, two sugars please.”

Quinn smiles to himself airily, ‘she’s as gracious she is courteous.’ After shaking off his daze he spoke, “Didn’t you also want one of those… death by chocolate cookies?”

“Oh yes! Could I please have one of your double chocolate brownie cookies?” you asked, “Could you heat it up too please?”

The barista nodded and turned away to make your coffees and to retrieve the fabled cookie. Standing there Quinn realised he didn’t actually know your name, nor what you were studying. Just that you liked cookies and had a killer sweet tooth.

“So Cookie, do you have a name or am I gonna have to call ya that?” Quinn stated, breaking the ice.

“My name is Y/N, but you can call me Cookie if you would like stranger.” Y/N smiled back, eyes gleaming with humour.

“My name is Quinn.” He corrected. “You mentioned having class soon? Can I ask what you have?”

“Well Quinn.. I have modern history next.” You spoke, quietly thanking the barista as she passed over the two coffees and the box holding chocolate lava-y goodness. Together the both of you gravitated away from the cart, moving back in the direction of where Quinn was originally sitting. The group still crowding the tables.

“With Professor Ryan?” Quinn questioned hopefully, he had modern history next as well, was this his lucky day?

“Yeah! In the Carsledine building!” You took a sip of the steaming beverage in your hand, the other still holding the cookie box to your chest.

”I have MH too! Would you want to sit together in his lecture?” Quinn leaned over and grabbed his backpack, slinging it over his shoulder, exchanging a Quick handshake with a mate of his.

“Sure! I don’t normally sit with anyone but.. I guess things can change.” Y/N smiled, walking alongside with Quinn through the campus courtyard, taking note of the amount of female attention he received.

Quinn let Cookie slide in the door before he did, holding it open for her as she stepped into the expansive lecture hall. He followed her small frame as she nimbly weaved her way through the rows of fold up chairs. Cookie approached the the left side of the lecture hall, the wall was interrupted by a humongous window, offering an extensive view over the rest of the campus. Rain clouds hung low today, dew covered the bare branches of the deciduous trees. Quinn sat down next to her, he admired her gorgeous face as she pulled her iPad out of her bag. Quinn noted the way she meticulously set up her note taking page with her screen pen, placing in all the text boxes and writing headings out. She pulled a keyboard attachment out of her bag, navy coloured too. Being around you Quinn's gaze sharpened and his body longed to know every detail he could, like the fact that navy appeared to be a favoured colour. The glasses that you had delicately slid onto the bridge of your nose were a deep shade of navy blue with gold arms. The scrunchie you were tucking your long shimmering hair into a ponytail with. Your phone case, iPad case and keyboard as well as the colour of the ink she wrote onto the digital page with were all the same blue.

"Do you like sports?" Quinn had one channel of small talk he could always revert back too, and he was damned sure he was going to use it.

"I don't mind sports!" Cookie replied, looking up from the screen she was writing on, "I like skiing, cross country specifically none of that moguls business. I also run too, cross country as well!"

"Are you on the track and field team?" he asked, curious.

"I am! I captain the track team!" Cookie looked over at Quinn again, waving silently to the professor who had walked in. "What about you?"

"I play Ice Hockey." Quinn spoke, he wished to play his cards right. If he did so, maybe he could get her to a game. "I'm projected to draft in the first round of the NHL entry. I fly out to Dallas with my family in about a month and a half for it."

Cookie smiled, a little bewildered, "That is seriously awesome! Congratulations!"

For the first time Quinn didn't get that rolling feeling in his gut after telling someone where he was projected to go. Y/N took it with so much grace, she didn't pester him about it, she didn't instantly try to suck up and seduce him. She just accepted it. Congratulated him and seemed like she genuinely cared.

Holy fuck. Is this what being in love feels like?