#(hint it's the dopamine)

[propheticfire]

The booping will continue until morale improves

[menacewithawolfcut]

hey wanna hear about one of my hyperfixations for the 1636272718th time? good here we go—

[not-poignant]

Hello!! Not really a question — I just wanted to say I'm in awe of how disciplined you are with your writing and how much you're able to write in a given month. It's HUGELY motivational to see your excerpts and schedules and updates (but I'm happy you're also taking some time this month to rest!)

Hope you have a nice day!

Hi hi anon!

Thank you so much <3 Some of it is definitely discipline, but honestly, I feel like I'm very fortunate because I do just enjoy writing?

Like, it's the thing I want to do when I'm stressed. I want to do it when I'm meant to be not doing it (like holidays). I want to do it most of the time, so I'm very rarely forcing myself. It's comforting to me.

It's still very hard sometimes and there's parts that aren't comforting, like I put off editing a LOT! (My wordcounts are also my editing, and that takes longer sometimes than writing the initial chapter, and definitely takes longer once I send to beta, because she responds live and that's the way we've always done it so I can interact reflexively and change things as we go).

But anyway, I do enjoy writing!

The other thing that has helped re: the actual schedule (because I didn't have one for most of the time I've done serials here and on AO3!) is finally getting an ADHD diagnosis and getting onto Vyvanse, which gave me like 15% more executive function, and that's just enough for me to start writing a few chapters ahead, which has given me more freedom than I've have in 10 years.

It's also why if anyone tells me that ADHD is a superpower, I will punch them in the face, lol.

Anyway! I'm selfish, it's fun for me to post updates, it's fun for me to post excerpts, it's fun for me to share this way with you all! I think if I forced myself to do it the 'Right Way' as a novelist that wrote and published finished books I would have burned out on that caree- oh wait I did burn out on that lol

[archived-and-moving]

memorizing my speech I'm giving tmrw, so I'm tempting myself w/ coming back to tumblr every few minutes. So! If I am answering asks sporadically, that is why!

[dumbpizzabread]

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/37i9dQZF1EpsH9CpTIqxCl?si=lP8x1GgZS5-VU_Z5Dy_m9Q&pi=e-BlkHYJVCTfaI

[ryescapades]

*ੈ‧₊༺ “A MINUTE ON YOUR LIPS,”

— kissing practice with your boyfriend <3

characters: itoshi sae, itoshi rin (bllk) x fem!reader (separate) contents: fluff !! some biting, rin’s takes place after the u20 match + implied short!reader (mb i’m highly projecting), one(1) hint of suggestiveness & established rs in sae’s, a bit of soft!sae ?? a/n: not proofread ‼️‼️ both are requested 🪽 | 🦉

♯ ┆ rin .ᐟ ★

“rin? rin— wait, hold on!”

you tug on your wrist, securely held in a gentle yet firm hold as you try your best to catch up with the long strides of your boyfriend’s very much taller figure.

the hallways of the stadium’s inner building are almost void of people, with most of them already on their way to return home as it’s been quite a while after the match against japan’s u20 team ended.

rin turns corner after corner, pulling you along with him until he stops, and you realise he’s taken you to a secluded part of the building. you’re suddenly aware of how quiet the place has gotten, chatters from the passerby becoming muted in your ears.

you dart your eyes around as rin gently pushes you against wall, planting a hand on the surface beside your head as he crowds into your space. “h-hey, what’s going on…?” your fingers twitch slightly at your side, nose almost brushing his hair from where he has his head slightly bowed beside yours, hiding away his face.

your relationship with rin is fairly new, and you’ve never seen him being this forward, ever. something tingles inside you then, nerves alighting at the close proximity. still clad in his blue jersey, the heat emanating from him sends goosebumps down your arms as you fix your eyes on the yellow piece of his captain armband.

rin finally lifts his head. teal orbs clash with yours, and you resist the urge to look away from the intensity of his gaze.

you watch as his eyes harden just a tad bit, a silent war waging in his mind. the crease on his forehead deepens, and you’re about to ask when suddenly all you can see— no, all you can feel is him.

the way rin kisses you is so out of the blue, and your surprised gasp is muffled against him, knees almost buckling from the contact. you scramble to reciprocate, your hand trembling and tugging at the sleeve on his bicep.

it’s messy, and clumsy, and very much your first kiss with him, but it feels right, somehow.

“rin - wait, what’s wr— mmh—“ you try to get the words out in-between the clashing of lips, but he doesn’t let you.

the picture doesn’t leave rin’s head. it’s stuck there, ever since he first saw it, and it’s been following him all the way until he got you in this little corner.

that goddamn sight of itoshi sae kissing his partner right after the match. it’s sickening, an eyesore that has been plaguing his mind.

so what if that shitty brother can kiss his partner well? rin can do much better. he is better. he can confirm that with how you’re humming contentedly against his lips, standing on your tip-toes and slinging your arms around his neck to pull him closer as he has you putty in his arms.

high on adrenaline from the match, rin greedily takes his newfound source of dopamine from your lips; all your taste, your very essence. he takes, and takes, and takes, until all you’ve ever known is the shape of his plush lips slotting perfectly against yours.

♯ ┆ sae .ᐟ ★

“you need to stop doing that,”

you pull back, pouting a little at his statement. “but i love doing it. especially to you,” you cheekily say, leaning in once again but his palm stops you.

“someone’s gonna think i’m dating an animal with how much biting you’ve been doing lately,” sae deadpans, and from where you’re comfortably perched on his lap, the redhead can see your eyes gleaming in the warm light of the bed lamp.

“oh, i’m an animal, all right. especially in be—“

your boyfriend cuts you off immediately. “you should be taught a lesson, woman,” he grumbles. you perk up instantly, both amused and interested at his insinuation. “oh? what type of lesson?” you wiggle your eyebrows playfully at him.

sae squints at you, the prominent lashes underneath his eyes crinkling along his smooth skin as he rests his hands on your hips. “one where you learn to resist your animalistic urge to bite, obviously.” you roll your eyes at that, groaning lightheartedly, “sassy and no fun.”

wrapping your arms around his waist, you’re about to lay your head on his chest when he reaches out a hand, holding your face in his deft fingers.

“seriously though. you need to start using less teeth,” he murmurs. “…and more lips,”

you blink once before the corner of your mouth tugs upwards. “yeah? i don’t think i know anything about that. wanna teach me how?” you mutter, breath mingling with his as you close the distance between you two. “gladly,” he rasps lowly.

before you know it, sae has you tight in his grasp, drawing out sigh upon sigh from you as your lips move against his in a familiar rhythm. he digs his fingertips in your thighs, a warning to not let those teeth come out to play.

he relishes the way you keen under his touch, his hands roaming to your waist and up to the underside of your chest as you press yourself impossibly closer, deepening the kiss as if to etch the sensation of him into your very own soul.

he eventually lets you push and take the lead, the force of your kiss causing him to lean his head back against the headboard. he wants to see how far you can take it before you resort back to your habit.

and soon enough, you do.

sae expected it, but a disgruntled noise still manages to escape from him when the sharp sting of your teeth descends on his lower lip. he pulls away, looking all too bemused at your doe eyes staring up at him.

“you’re a menace,”

you throw him a grin, smacking a wet smooch on his lips. “you love me,”

a miniscule speck of warmth swirls in his eyes then, huffing quietly before he dives back in, “más que cualquier otra cosa en el mundo,”

tl ; more than anything else in the world.

been so long since i last finished writing anything so i'm kinda rusty oughkddf i hate uni sm i was in a little slump the past few weeks TT

btw how do ppl come up with fic titles🧍 i’ve been depending on song lyrics lately wtf

@maruflix @pixelcafe-network @lumiambrose @17020 @bgyuus @stunies (i feel like i should open a new taglist for bllk hm)

©🅁🅈🄴🅂🄲🄰🄿🄰🄳🄴🅂. do not steal, translate or repost my work anywhere else !

[malereadermaniac]

Gym ~ Holland!Peter Parker x Male Reader

Top!Peter x Bottom!Reader cw: Working out n sweat, body worship, Bottom reader & top Peter, hand kink (kinda), underwear n sock stuff word count: 1.3k Nsfw / MDNI ~ amab m!reader / FDNI

Holland!Peter who likes to have you 'help' him as he works out in your home-gym. You motivate the hero throughout his workouts, laying under him as he does push-ups; rewarding your muscular boyfriend with a short n sweet kiss every time he lowers himself

Holland!Peter who uses you instead of weights whenever he can, especially when doing hip-thrusts. The handsome man having you sit on his hips, your ass literally on Peter's clothed crotch, as he grunts and groans with every raise of his hips - his dick obviously hardening underneath you with every thrust. The brunette's rough, veiny hand on your hip so firmly, keeping you in place as his other masculine hand rests in its rightful place on your thigh

Holland!Peter loving how evidently flustered you get when he works out with you, even though you try to hide the blush on your face behind your sassy/sarcastic facade. The hero knows you, like the back of his hand, so he not only tries to get his own weird pleasure out you 'helping' him but also to tease you from time to time; and he achieves this every time... It's not like it's hard, Peter knows what gets you going and uses it to his advantage, like keeping you below him and letting his sweat drip onto you, or keeping a firm grip on you, just to remind you of how fucking strong he actually is

Holland!Peter who always gets frisky during his workouts. Hey! Endorphins pair really fuckin' well with dopamine from having sex with the guy he fucking adores (you!). The hero's dick gets fully erect barely halfway through his session most of the time, resulting in Peter dropping subtle hints at you helping him out. Subtle as in wolf-whistling you when you bend over or smirking down at the tent in his sweatpants to get your attention.

Holland!Peter who fucking loves to have you suck him off while he lifts weights. He'll be doing bicep curls above you as you're on your knees in front of the brunette, absolutely going ham on his thick dick. His sweaty, hot balls and dick smell of his manly musk as you kiss and lick his shaft and sack, making the man above you groan as he sweats from exercise and being horny. Shit really hits the fan when your fully sucking Peter off; sloppily deepthroating his thick, veiny cock as his thick bush of sweaty pubes stuff your nose with his intoxicating scent. It turns you on so much to watch the man workout above you, watching his sweat roll down his abs and down his v-line as you pleasure him oh so nicely, his moans echoing in your gym along with grunts of your name.

Holland!Peter who loves it when you worship and praise his body after a workout, his glistening muscles lookin' so attractive as the hero sits on a changing bench and sprawls out his body (because yes, you two decided to also install a changing room for your private gym, and yes it was mainly to have sex in). Peter's dick will re-harden instantly as you kiss his collarbone, lick his sweaty pecks and kiss down his abs and all the way down to his sweaty feet. Your praises of how his body is "incredible" and "godly" and "sexy" really stroking his ego, getting his hormones raring.

Holland!Peter loving the way you look below him, kissing at his feet, making direct eye-contact as you submit to him; he's not the type to be dominant, but FUCK does he feel so horny when you go out of your way to to please him. He always offers his hand out to you, knowing how feral you go for his veiny, rough hands which have saved hundreds of lives. Peter's dick twitches like crazy as he watches you suck his fingers off as if they were his cock, his eyes unable to leave you as you work your tongue sloppily around his sexy fingers, looking into his eyes as your spit dribbles down the sides of your mouth and your chin.

Holland!Peter making you with you desperately and sloppily as you sit on his lap, your sweaty ass sticking to his thick, tired thighs. The feeling of your boyfriend's masculine hands spreading your cheeks never gets old, his fingers cutely prodding at your tight entrance in a curious and impatient manner; Peter always wanting to feel more of you, pleasure you and himself as quickly as possible.

Holland!Peter who fucking loves to watch you do your best to take his big, thick cock - positioning his dick to your entrance and slowly sinking down on your boyfriend's shaft. The brunette gets butterflies in his stomach at the sight of you putting in so much effort to get him inside of you, your face contorting in pain and pleasure just hittin' that spot for Peter so damn well

Holland!Peter who just can't help himself, he tries to give you as much time as he can to adjust to his girth, but you're just too perfect - your walls so warm and tight around Peter, your body fitting together with his like a puzzle, your panting face above him, it all just results in the brunette starting to thrust up into you without even thinking about it! But god does it feel so fucking good, your loud cries and moans of his name and "too big", "too much", and "fuck" turning your boyfriend on to the max, his desperation to pleasure himself and you giving him the confidence to take the lead and fuck you in whatever way he wants

Holland!Peter who gets off to seeing you desperately struggle yet fail to moan out his name due to his dirty, sweaty socks or underwear stuffing your mouth and acting as a gag. The brunette's dick twitching against your tight, warm walls as he drills in your prostate, watching as you squirm against his lap and become overwhelmed by his salty taste in your mouth and his musky scent in your nose - the entire changing room now smelling of both your sweat and his, along with the filthy smell of sex and fluids. Peter's hands feel correct on your hips, holding you tightly as the hero forces you up and down on his cock, his moans of your name making your dick twitch with ever jab at your prostate

Holland!Peter who can't hold himself back for too long, his body jolting forwards and enveloping your body with his sweaty, muscular one, his arms around your waist and his teeth in your shoulder as he breaths in your scent and groans into your shoulder; shooting his thick load deep inside of you. His sweaty garments would fall out of your mouth finally, allowing you to moan and whine as your own dick shoots ropes of white cum onto both your stomach and Peter's, your prostate being milked by your boyfriend's thick dick. Your nails claw down the hero's back, your toes curling in pleasure as you bask in the afterglow, inhaling your strong boyfriend's smell as he does the same as he kisses the marks he had left on your body during your passionate little moment.

Holland!Peter who just wants to rest with you a little. He doesn't care that his dick is still inside of you, or that his cum is slowly dripping out of your hole. The brunette just wants to hold you near, feel you as he kisses your body as little 'thank you's' for being so good to him. Of course, after a few enjoyable moments together, Peter remembers how horribly uncomfortable you must be and gets the two of you into a shower - cleaning you up and out, washing your hair for you and massaging your scalp as you get drowsy from the steam and the cardio. Fuck he treats you so damn well...

[phoenixcatch7]

I've got the reblog map active just for funsies and it makes nice shapes (mostly fish and flowers) but tumblr. Please let me shake it. I want it to wobble SO BAD. It kind of spins a little when it loads, and it sways ever so slightly. Every time I see it it convinces me that I can can shake it by wiggling it around, and every time I am disappointed.

[notjustjavierpena]

Candy

Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost | Support a disabled creator

A/N: A shameless addition to the DILF!Joel universe. This is PWP, enjoy!

Summary: Another sexcapade in Joel’s bed. Lazy day filled with sex.

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader/you (no y/n)

Tags: +18 Smut (MDNI!), PIV sex, unprotected sex, riding, face-sitting, fingering, pussy-eating, dirty talk, Joel smacks your ass, reader is a little insecure about her body

Word count: 2.2k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48297466

Candy

Sometimes you and Joel sneak off to your house, telling everyone that you’re going grocery shopping or something just as mundane, just to get it on like teenagers in your still new bed. Sometimes, when Sarah is at a friend’s house, you have Joel’s house to yourself. This time is the latter, and you feel grateful for the lack of a time frame for your sexcapades. 

It gives Joel time to really warm you up, take his time, go slow, then fast and then slow again. It’s times for living off of bottled water, ice cream from the tub and having multiple orgasms, placing the tub between your thighs to enjoy the cool it radiates as it soothes your spent cunt. 

You’re sitting in Joel’s bed like this now; legs spread out in front of you, tub of strawberry ice cream between your thighs and Joel cross-legged in front of you, one hand on each of your shins, rubbing soothing circles with his thumbs into your calves. You’ve been screwing for hours by now. 

You feed him a spoonful, practically glowing with all the dopamine flowing through you from your brain to your body. Your heart rate is slightly elevated too but it could be just from looking at him; broad shoulders, naked chest and black boxers. His hair is a mess from how many times you’ve carded your fingers through it, but you swear that you like it much better this way. 

“You okay?” He asks after swallowing, reaching for the bottle of water on his night stand. He takes a large sip, offers it to you but you shake your head.

“Fine, just horny and tired… sore,” you say the last word with a smirk whilst digging out the last few bites from the ice cream tub, scraping thoroughly along the sides. You set the empty container aside, “I’ll get a tummy if we keep spending time like this between fucking though.”

“I’d like you even more with a cute little belly,” Joel rolls his eyes at your self-deprecating comment, yanks a little at your legs to signal what he wants; you scoot forward on your bottom to sit closer to him and drape your legs over his hips. He reaches up to cradle your face, pulls you in for a kiss that’s cold from the strawberry ice cream. 

“Yeah? You would like that?” You smile against his mouth, and he places his palms on the globes of your ass and drags you flush against him until you’re chest to chest. 

“I’d fucking love it,” he rasps before he devours your mouth once more. He tastes deliciously sweet of strawberries and cream, making you lick into his mouth with a newfound passion for making out. You suck at his tongue to make him growl for more, spurring him on to hoist you up into his lap until he can slide underneath your body so you’re straddling him.

“Up. Guess ice cream wasn’t enough,” he says with a pat to your lower back, hinting with his eyes whilst pushing you forward. You know what that means, swallowing thickly before crawling forwards, past his chest until you’re hovering your naked pussy above his face. 

You find yourself trembling and use the headboard to steady yourself, feeling Joel’s breath against your cunt and the way it hitches when you look down to find his eyes. You have wanted to ride his face all day, wondering when you’d be desperate enough for it to ask but this is perfect. He is perfect.

“Sit, and don’t take those eyes off me. Want to see you come,” he commands and when you don’t instantly follow orders, he curls two strong hands around your thighs and yanks you down onto his mouth. You take a proper seat, his tongue along your slit and his nose against your clit. It earns him a long, shaky and dragged-out moan. 

Whilst looking down at him, you start to feel the first movements of his slick tongue. It slides between your folds, picks up your arousal on its way before wiggling slightly. Joel tenses it up until he can slip the tip of the muscle inside of you, fucking your cunt open in the most obscene way. You’re dripping onto his mouth and chin, wetting his scruff. 

“Fuck, baby,” you moan softly, staring down into his darkened eyes and starting to grind down on the arch of his nose. Occasionally, the tip of his nose catches on your clit and nearly has you flying forwards, “Fuck, fuck, hah, fuck Joel.”

He bobs his head too to grind his face into you, determined to not let you do all the work despite how much you know he loves when you use him. His tongue slips from you, and you can feel spit and slick drip from you and add to the shine that’s already on his face.

“Yeah, that’s it, baby,” he mutters underneath you and makes your pussy clench in interest of more, “Fuckin’ love when she gushes on my face.”

Joel’s hands push you around after that, steers you with little care, seeming merciless in his state of hunger, until he can lap directly on your clit before closing his lips around it. Oh God, you think, he is determined today.

Your hands grip harder at the headboard, turning your knuckles white when he sucks hard enough to cause just a little pain amongst all the pleasure. It makes your eyes flutter closed, thighs shake and mouth hanging open in a silent moan. 

With a crack, one of his hands comes down onto the fleshiest part of your ass in a stinging smack. Your eyes fly open in surprise and you moan pathetically as you feel your pussy clamping down on nothing. 

“I told you to look at me,” he says, releasing you with a pop and relenting for a moment to speak, “Keep those eyes on me while I eat your pretty pussy.” 

“Yes— s-sorry, Joel, please,” you release the headboard carefully, but only to slide your fingers through his hair instead, ready to yank, “It won’t happen again, baby. Please. Make me come on your face.”

Joel lets out a pleased sigh as you scratch your nails through his hair. 

“Is this okay, baby?” You ask sweetly, referring to your fingers in his hair, but also starting to move on his mouth again. 

Joel spanks you again without warning. It stings more this time, but he is back to eating you out before you have time to react, and, additionally, whatever smart thing you want to say disappears from your mind as you lose the connection between your brain and your mouth. It’s all gibberish. 

You feel the hand on your ass slide down between your thighs which are shaking at this point, giving him signs of how close you are. He slips a finger inside your cunt, adding a second one only after a few pumps, working you from the outside and the inside. 

It’s too much when he rubs against your g-spot, curling his fingers as if to coax your orgasm to come. You yank his hair then, coming on his mouth with a sob and forcing yourself to stare down into his eyes despite wanting to squeeze your own shut. It feels so good. You clamp down on his fingers and Joel holds them still against your g-spot, sucking your relentlessly throbbing clit through your high. 

With ragged breath, you push yourself off of him and he lets you. You scoot back to sit in his lap, wet and spent cunt soaking through the fabric of his boxers when you settle there. It takes you a moment to find his gaze again, too busy with feeling his generous, but unfortunately clothed, length against you. Soon, you remind yourself.

Though when you see his whole face again, you gasp audibly; Joel’s eyes are hazy, satisfied and black with desire. His chin, nose and mouth are covered with your slick to the point where he is pornographic to look at, but the best thing is the boyish grin that he sports. 

“Stop looking at me like that,” you scold playfully, placing your palms on his chest and scratching a little. 

“You taste like fucking candy,” he licks his lips for show, then sucks the fingers that he has had inside of you clean one by one. It makes you impatiently squirm in his lap. 

“Better than strawberry ice cream?” You ask, scooting down even further to tuck at the hem of his boxers and reveal his cock, now an angry red color from being neglected too long. You are too lazy to take his underwear all the way off, settling the hem below his balls.

“Better than strawberry ice cream,” he repeats to confirm, looking down at where your hands are now stroking him lazily, “You already ready for more? Greedy of you.”

“Greedy for you, you mean, Mr. Miller,” you correct him and get onto your knees, moving until you feel the head of his cock, slick with precome, nudge at your slit. 

The boyish grin fades with that comment, followed by a soft sigh and then Joel’s jaw goes slack as you start sinking down. He places his hands on your hips once more, thumbs pressing down into your hip bones to angle your pelvis.

“Fuck, right there…” You groan, leaning your head back a little as the tip of his dick pokes against your g-spot. You bottom out and it’s amazing to feel your sensitive walls stretched out around his cock, sucking him in the rest of the way with how wet he has made you. When you’ve gotten used to him, you lift yourself up to sink back down again, but just once, wanting him to lose control with you, smack your ass again, “Want me to come on your cock too? Mouth not enough?”

“You better, sweetheart, m-mouth ain’t never enough— oh fuck, I want you to milk my come into your tight cunt,” his eyes glaze over as you start up the first rolls of your hips, drawing a relieved moan from the man’s throat. He has been so good at waiting for you, so you start up a rhythm that is anything but teasing to reward his patience. 

When you have him panting underneath you, you decide to take it even further and put on a show for him. You bounce in his lap, your hands going up your body to squeeze your own tits. You press them together as you ride him in earnest, then release them with a moan and catch him hungrily watching as they bounce back into place. 

“Fuck, baby,” you keen when his hips snap up into yours for the first time. He grips your fleshy thighs heatedly, smacks them, forces you down on his dick every time you lift yourself off. You reward him with a chant of his name, breathless and bordering on religious worship, “God, you fuck me so well. Joel. Make me come.” 

He suddenly sits up and keeps you moving in unison, cups your jaw and pulls your mouth towards his own with desperation in the noises he makes for you. It’s generous to call it a kiss as it is rather a filthy clash of teeth and tongues. You try to say his name again, but he eats it from your hungry mouth, right off your tongue, before you manage to get it out. 

When he pulls away to suck in a much-needed breath, you lean back in his lap and reach behind yourself to rest a hand on his thigh. It makes you able to speed up, grind against his pelvis and gain stimulation to your clit that sends sparks throughout your lower body. 

“Come for me,” he says lowly, one arm wrapping around your waist to support you and the other groping your ass obscenely. He smacks it again, and your orgasm ripples through your body in the next moment and has you keening loudly, “Thaaaat’s it… Attagirl, there you are.” 

You clench rhythmically around Joel’s dick and there are a few more snaps of his hips before he pushes up into you and pulls you down onto him simultaneously. He lets out a groan from the back of his throat, spilling inside of you and causing you to gasp pathetically at the feel of warmth spreading inside your pussy.

“You’ve got me spellbound, baby,” he rests his head against your shoulder when he dares speak again.

“Yeah? Changed your life with this pussy?” You tease, voice exhausted. You can feel him smile against your skin. 

“Possibly,” he moves slowly and then pulls out of you with a grunt. He lies down again, pulling you down with him by your upper arm until you are lying with your face in the crook of his neck, giggling softly.

“We should order pizza for dinner,” you think out loud.

“Didn’t you just complain about getting a tummy?” Joel rolls his eyes but reaches to sprawl a hand over your stomach, “Women.” 

“You said you’d love me with a tummy,” you argue with a playful slap to his chest but making up for it by kissing along his jaw, “That may be a good enough reason for me.”

“Pizza then.”

“I’ll just buy bigger jeans.”

.

.

If you would like to follow my writing then go follow @notjustjavierpena-fics and turn on notifications 💖❤️

[euphoricfilter]

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• ° kinktober day 12

[day twelve: overstimulation]

pairing: yoongi x f. reader

tags/ warnings: pwp, vibrator, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, squirting, minor oral? (f. receiving), unprotected sex

notes: smut straight under the cut

kinktober masterlist

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆.

“Too much—Shit Yoongi, no more” your thighs quiver, orgasm lingering as he pulls the vibrator away from your clit, poor little thing, swollen. Throbbing with that aching sort of want as your pussy dribbles another pitiful wad of slick onto the sheets.

He leans down lips wrapping around your clit, sucking, tongue laving over as your orgasm slowly ebbs away, sparks of overstimulation tingling down your legs, cunt clenching around nothing.

He presses the vibrator over your entrance, pussy lips parting around the silicone as he presses it ever so gently past your walls.

“Yoongi” you whine, fingers tangling into his hair as he continues to suck at your clit, hips rutting up into his face as you continue to chase the edging pleasure, he’s pulling out of you.

He hums, pitiful moan dripping thick off your tongue at the added vibration, arousal seeping out of your pussy over the silicone toy, dripping over his fingers, skin slicked shiny.

He thrusts the toy a little further into you, angling it upwards ever so slightly.

Yoongi’s lips press a kiss over your clit before he’s pulling away, tongue cleaning the mess you made of his face as his eyes glaze over your pussy. Creamy slick slipping down you perineum, poor little pussy clenching around the vibrator, a mean little smile tugging at Yoongi’s lips.

He presses one of the buttons on the side, your mouth falling open, unfiltered moan clawing up your throat, overstimulated pussy pulsating around the toy.

“Fuck—” you cry, “s’ too much” tears cling to your waterline, fingers digging into the sheets below you, hips bucking upwards.

“Cum again for me, baby” he murmurs, presses a kiss over your sweat-slicked chest, lips ghosting over your nipple.

He thrusts the vibrator into you, knuckles nudging against your sensitive little bud with every press into you.

“Can’t” you whine, thighs quivering, snapping closed around his hand.

“Yes you can, always so pretty when your poor little cunt is ruined” his tongue runs over your nipple.

Your mouth falls open, world burning white for a moment as you tip over the edge, orgasm shaking your body. Clawing up your spine as your legs shake, Yoongi’s fingers digging into the meat of your thighs as he holds them open, deep reverberate of his voice barely penetrating your ears as he tells you how pretty you are.

You blink away the tears that had slipped down your cheeks, Yoongi’s thumb brushing over your damp cheek.

“You here with me?” he asks, hint of a smile on his face. The prideful kind, the one where you know he would be sure to remind you of this moment in the coming days.

You nod, swallowing.

Pussy swollen, aftereffects of the vibrator still tingling down your body, stomach tensing as your orgasm slowly slips away, gentle hum of what was once there still sends hints of pleasure throughout your body. Dopamine hazed mind slowly processing the press of Yoongi’s cockhead against your entrance.

“Think you can give me one more?” he presses a kiss to your jaw, angling his cock through your folds.

The tip nudges against your clit, hips jutting upwards, slightest of touch enough stimulation to have slick leaking out of you.

You nod, arms slipping around his neck as you pull his body closer to yours.

“Words, baby. Need to hear you” he presses another kiss to your cheek.

“One more” you nod, “I won’t last long”

He hums, fingers pressing into the flesh of your hips as he pulls your body over his thighs a little. Pretty fingers wrapping around his length before he’s pressing over your entrance.

Your back arches as he splits you open, cunt pulled wide over the flared head before he’s sinking into you, hips rolling forward; seemingly not in a rush.

His thumb gently brushes over your clit, cunt pulsating around him as the sparks of delicious pain mingled pleasure slips down the length of your body.

He needs no warning when you’re about to cum, hips jackhammering into you, angled perfectly as he presses you further and further towards another orgasm.

“Shit Yoongi” you curse, feeling it build within your stomach, your hands pressing against his stomach as he ruts his thick cock into you.

“Come on, pretty” he grunts, head tipped back at his own pleasure.

He just about catches sight of it, cock slipping out of you as his fingers rub over your pussy as you squirt over yourself, some of his catching his cock. Your hips jolt upwards as he continues to rub your clit, another spurt of cum wetting his hand as you moan his name, mind fully fucked as overestimated pleasure buzzes beneath your skin.

You barely register Yoongi jacking himself off over you, tugging his hard cock at the sight of you fucked out body. Pussy lips swollen and pitiful little clit throbbing, wet slicked shiny and sticky with your arousal, creamy cum clinging to your folds.

You moan when you feel his cum shoot against your pussy lips, running his cockhead through your folds, smearing his release over your soiled cunt.

“Always such a good girl for me” he lets the final spurt of his cum coat your pussy, “Letting me make you feel good, mind nothing more than mine to ruin”

You reach out for him, uncaring of the mess between your thighs, not when he smothers you with kisses, endless praise dripping off his tongue as you come down from your lust filled high.

[xenteaart]

it's not about the roses

pairing: chan x reader (i wrote it with idol!chan or producer!chan in mind, but despite a brief mention of the studio it can fit any au, really) word count: 1,1k genre/warnings: er, fluff, a hint of angst if you squint but overall just tooth rotting sweetness. reader being kinda vulnerable author's note: inspired by my and @skzms 's channie brain worms, me crying over how boyfie he is in may's dms and her coming up with this little prompt. i'm manifesting a sweet healthy relationship for y'all, never settle for less <3

you were never the one for flowers, really.

it just didn’t seem anything meaningful or special, an occasional cute little bouquet on some first date you had ages ago, meeting someone completely new after mindlessly swiping them right on a dating app. plus, it’s always such a bother to take care for it. disassemble the thing, cut the stems, change the water, maybe cut off the leaves too.

at some point, you began to think of yourself as more of a practical person, taking gift giving to the point where it completely lost symbolism. always getting your friends and family either money or something they specifically asked for.

“at least, they’re actually gonna use it and get some utility out of it. ‘s good, right?” you thought to yourself, ticking a box on one of your friend’s wishlists for their birthday. it is good. no stress of choosing and endlessly pondering whether they’ll like it or not.

or is it avoiding the vulnerability of going down a more symbolic route if they don’t happen to respond to your gift the way you’d like them to after carefully planting hidden meanings and confessions all over a seemingly useless present? yeah, maybe, that’s the one, actually.

it was a regular saturday evening, no work, no plans, no big day or anything to celebrate. so, naturally, you were just spending the time at your place, resting after successfully having done all the house chores in one go.

purposelessly lying on the bed, you wondered what chris was up to. it wasn’t something out of the ordinary for you two to leave each other hanging during the day, keeping each other’s messages unread and waiting for some free time to give a thoughtful, proper reply.

but the little “1” next to your kakaotalk message was starting to feel unfriendly because... honestly? you just missed him. you wanted to know about his day, what he ate for lunch and whether work was okay today (knowing full well the man couldn’t care less about days of the week, coming over at the studio any time he needed or pleased).

distracting yourself with scrolling tiktok for a quick dopamine hit, you end up losing track of time a little. and the thing bringing you back to reality is chan’s short message, popping up on your notifications bar.

“can you come out for a sec? i’m at the door hehe~”

it takes you three times to read to finally understand what it actually means. he doesn’t have keys to your apartment yet, and you mostly hang out at his place anyways, so him coming all the way to the opposite side of the city makes your heart skip a beat.

you rush to the door and open it almost immediately, only to see channie, your channie, standing right in front of you with a nice bouquet of red roses wrapped up in kraft paper. the next thing you notice is chan’s wide smile, so sincere and endearing it makes you wanna cry on the spot.

you were never the one for flowers, really.

red roses always seemed like something either too vulgar or “easy”. something that becomes men’s first pick because they just never care enough to look for anything else and assume every girl loves it by default.

right now, however, it doesn’t feel like either of those.

the way chris is a bit nervous and really excited all at once; his hands gripping at the crunchy paper-wrapped base as he's waiting to give the flowers to you. the way his eyes sparkle and shine with warmth and genuine adoration for you. and you read past the roses, you learn so much more from it.

you learn how he’s been quiet because he was plotting a little surprise for you, trying not to be too obvious.

you see how he thought of you during the entire process, from an idea to carefully picking out the best flowers, making sure they’re fresh and pretty and will stay this way a while.

you can hear his timid little “thank you” to the florist as they exchange their bows and polite smiles.

you imagine the slightly awkward small talk with the taxi driver asking him about the occasion — the traffic and the parking area next to your building are awful, so you’re guessing he did take the taxi. and the drivers sure love to talk on the long drives, this one you had to learn the hard way.

gosh, chan looks so warm and… so soft, his lips making a familiar heartbreaking :] shape.

snapping out of your thoughts, you look into chris’s eyes and swallow down a salty lump in your throat.

“please don’t be alarmed, but i probably will cry a little,” you warn him before your voice gives out and take the roses, holding them close to your chest where the heart is bleeding.

“so pretty,” you stare down at the gentle velvety petals and sniff quietly.

chan looks worried for a moment but quickly pulls you into his embrace, stepping into the apartment and locking the door behind him.

“hey-y, i expected a smile, not your tears, baby. i didn’t upset you, did i?” to which you shake your head to reassure him.

“no, no, ‘course not! what do you mean? they’re so nice. i’m just… really happy? and i missed you. so much,” the last words come out like a weak mouse squeak as you close your eyes and let your emotions roll down your cheeks, staining your skin wet.

chan nods and takes your face into his palms, wiping away the tears and looking at you so lovingly you think you might actually break.

“i missed you too, baby. do you mind if i stay the night? i…- uh. i bought some face masks too, so we can just relax a little before bed and cuddle?”

you squeeze out a little “yeah” in response, headbutting his forehead and putting your arm around him, with another still holding the roses carefully.

“i love you,” you say slightly louder, making sure that he hears it.

maybe, gifts don’t have to be practical all the time. maybe, it’s okay to put sentimental value into simple, useless things sometimes. make them mean something.

“i love you too, baby,” chris hums still a little confused, rubbing soothing circles into your lower back and planting a chaste kiss on the bridge of your nose.

you reach for his plump soft lips and press yours against them. and even though your tastebuds can feel the salt, it’s the sweetest kiss you two have shared so far.

[madamegoodparty]

This season is about depression. But WHY is The Big Guy depressed?

Let's take a look at the clues Mr. Brennan "Anti-Capitalist" Mulligan has laid out for us 🔍

The Big Guy aka Elias Hodge, works for a "retro-futurist conglomerate" as a "mento-technological" researcher

There's a Prohibition on oxytocin, dopamine, and serotonin -- citizens are only allowed cortisol & adrenaline (hormones that're released when someone is under a lot of stress)

This Prohibition will (allegedly) be lifted once Elias receives recognition from his bosses

All Elias's pleasures and non-work related urges have been driven underground to the red light district -- so he's not allowing himself to focus on anything that isn't work

The Fix is basically a hitman working for the District Attorney, Mark Bition (Ambition) to eliminate any urge that has the potential to distract Elias from his work

More on the above point: District Attorneys are prosecuters, ie, are the ones responsible for punishing those who go against the state. So this further emphasizes that Elias is very strictly policing himself in order to succeed at work

Conrad Schintz (Conscience) is a tiny kid who has trouble making himself heard and doesn't have a lot of power

Speaking of kids -- all of Elias's childhood interests have also been driven underground, this time being kept under the care of Ms. Loathing. This, plus the line about "not deserving pleasure", hints that Elias is potentially struggling with self-loathing as well (also Loathing's line about "focusing on me is not going to do anything but make me stronger")

CONCLUSION:

All this paints a picture of someone who is driven by logic and ambition, to the detriment of his emotional well-being. Elias seems to feel that his only value comes from what he is able to produce for his superiors, and this causes him to suppress any part of himself that doesn't make him a more productive worker. This has led to him becoming extremely isolated and lonely as a result

We can also guess that the work Elias is doing doesn't align with his values, and that he needs to keep his conscience as quiet as possible in order to do it. Even worse, we now see that he's thinking about killing his conscience outright

This season is about the psychological toll being a cog in the machine takes on a person, and I cannot WAIT to see where we go next

[misslovasstuff]

“Confession”

Summary: Sanji tries to confess your love to you... many times. pairing: Sanji x fem!reader genre: romance with a small hint of comedy. author's note: for some reason, I think canon Sanji is someone who is quite oblivious when it comes to women who ACTUALLY like him. Like bro notices when men adore him but can't tell a girl has the hots for him?? Anyways, out of frustration I wrote this but just roles reversed. Enjoy, hehe

His tenderness and kindness drops like honey from his fingertips, this is quite evident when he carefully strokes your skin with the back of his hand, gently brushing off your hair when your head rests on his lap, his lips touch your shut-closed eyes, reciting you poetry about them every morning and every evening.

Oh, how he admires and yet envies the light of the sun landing on your skin, the cool breeze that gets to caress your hair and the blessed land you walk upon where flowers seem to bloom with each one of your steps.

How can a man express a love so grand? What words could Sanji ever use to depict his own feelings, or to come even close to explaining them? Among all of these questions, there is a specific one that has grown roots on his head for a while now:

How do I confess?

Imagine the agony of seeing the person you love every day, emotions building up inside of you so much so that even a glance of them towards your direction shakes your whole soul. Ok, now that you have imagined what it feels like, multiply that feeling with x100; that’s what a hopeless romantic such as Sanji has endured ever since the day he fell for you (but that’s a story for another time). Now, let me introduce to you 3 attempts Sanji tried to confess his love:

1. A pretty flower for an even prettier flower

It’s Spring, around 4 months ago. You are rotting in the girl’s dorm, still recovering from some heavy injured back you had to deal with after a tough fight. There are sounds of laughter outside, so loud that you could hardly listen to the sound of waves or anything like that. From what you could hear, you had reached an island which seemed to make the crew enthusiastic for some reason you could not really tell from the darkness and loneliness of your surroundings.

“Damn it, I can’t even stand up on my own” - you try to lift yourself up but quickly surrender due to the immense pain in your back. A loud sigh escapes your mouth as you cover your face with a hand, rubbing your temple and holding yourself back from shedding any tears that could reflect that your need to be useful is now under attack, and you feel more useless than ever.

“Can I come in?” - a knock or two are heard at the door. You’re caught completely off guard but yet manage to blur out with a cracked voice: “Please do.”

Goodness, you had to cover your eyes from the light that shone through the room when the door opened, almost blinding you. Thus, you can’t really tell who just came in but a feeling of some sort was telling you that it was alright, that it was safe.

“We landed on a new island. - the voice approaches and comes closer, becoming clearer. - It’s quite beautiful.”

A touch of your hand makes you immediately realise that it was Sanji who is now sat beside you, caressing your hand. Your vision gets back to normal and you gaze happily at the blond chef. He looked so pretty: a nice pink shirt with a flower pattern, shorts and sunglasses he’s wearing.

“Why aren’t you exploring then?” - you ask, caressing his hand back.

“Oh, I did my exploring. It’s just that all that beauty that I saw…- Sanji reveals his hand hidden behind his back. There was a bouquet of flowers he was holding, landing them to you. Goodness, the way your eyes sparkled in joy caught Sanji off guard. His gaze softens. - …all that beauty that I saw reminded me of you.”

You take the flowers and sniff them, the aroma captivating your senses as your dopamine reaches high levels that were not reached for months.

“Thank you, Sanji. This… - you gaze lovingly at the flowers and then at him. - …this means a lot.”

“Don’t thank me. I’d do anything for you.” - he grabs your chin and pinches it gently, giving you a reassuring smile.

“Actually, I came to see you because I wanted to-

“You wanted to make sure I was fine, right? Don’t worry, I do feel better now. Promise!” - you interrupt him, thinking that he was still worrying himself over your condition. However, the expression on his face made you doubt that that was the real reason he came.

“Oh, is it because you want to ask me what I want for dinner?”- you try again, trying to guess the reason of his visit, which he did often.

“Uhm right, I did want to ask you that…” - Sanji smiles awkwardly as he strokes the back of his neck. Guess he couldn’t really say what he wanted now, instead he just smiles and listens to your wishes regarding dinner.

“How about we have dinner together, just the two of us, when you get better of course?” - he suggests and you widen your eyes.

Just the two of you? Why is he asking that? For some reason that gave you a weird feeling in your stomach, feeling your cheeks heat up.

“Well, it would be my pleasure, chef.” - you tease, pinching his nose jokingly as the cook gives a blushing smile.

2. What’s mine is yours

The dinner table was decorated beautifully by Sanji, the colors, the texture of the fabrics and all the details up to the crystal clear utensils would make every woman in the world happy. He is now sat patiently, waiting for you to come down and dine with him.

Once you go out the door you notice the setting your favourite cook has done for you. With a quick glance you fasten your step to go down the stairs, giving a small cough to make him notice you.

How foolish, you think he didn’t notice you?

Sanji saw you from afar, and that man is already weak in the knees from seeing you all dressed up with a chic black dress, a nice golden necklace resting on your neck, complemented gracefully with your long dark flocks falling off your bare shoulders.

“You came.” - Sanji reaches for you hand, kissing the back of it whilst looking deep into your eyes.

“For you, always.” - a wink at him before you go and sit down makes the blond crazily happy. He immediately pulls the chair back for you and rushes to serving some delicious hot meals.

“I love that we are doing this outside.” - you claim, finally feeling a bit of fresh air coming in your lungs.

“I thought you would. - Sanji lights up a candle placed in the middle of the table. - I know you’re a romantic at heart as well.”

You chuckle, not disagreeing with his statement.

“Thank you for the food.” - you say and start digging in. Ah, he never fails when it comes to cooking. You could live 109 more lives and never get to try Sanji’s food anywhere else.

“Perfect.” - you whisper, letting out a small moan from the satisfying taste. Little do you know that even such small details never go unnoticed by Sanji. He keeps staring at you, your dress, hair, your eyes that sparkle with light every time you look at him.

“Here, try some of this.” - Sanji picks up with his chopsticks a piece from his plate and offers it to you.

Of course you want to try it so you open your mouth and eat it, closing your eyes shut for a bit.

“Ahhh, Sanji it’s just so good!” - you exclaim, grabbing the table cloth.

Alright, you might be someone who overacts at times but now come on! look what you’re doing to the poor guy. You moan his name in a sentence like that and expect him to remain his full composure?

Bro had to keep it in him not to tell you that he fucks as good as he cooks for the hundredth time.

These thoughts are quickly shaken off when he notices your body trembling a bit. He immediately gets up, strips his jacket off.

Now, you’re caught off guard. His sleeves are rolled up and his forearms give a nice impression of a good physique. Moreover, his visible biceps and wide shoulders... Did he always have a waist that small?

“Here, I’d rather die that let you catch a cold.” - his sentence interrupts a train of not so holy thoughts for which you were confused of where they came from.

You shake your head and say a small ‘thank you’ to Sanji before going back to eating. However, now his cologne is evident, coming from the jacket placed on your shoulders. Alluring and strong, just like him.

“Are you listening?” - he asks and you widen your eyes, asking him a very polite ‘sorry, what?’

“Never mind. Nothing important.” - there it is again, that awkward smile. What is it that he has to say but doesn’t tell me?

The rest of the dinner goes fairly well. Around midnight you both find yourself and the doorstep of the girl’s dorm.

“Thank you for joining me.” - he kisses your hand, caressing it with his thumb, not letting go just yet.

“Thank you for having me, Sanji.” - you smile, a weird rush of adrenaline conquering your body. Not understanding what it really is, you rush inside and wave a final ‘bye’ to the cook, closing the door behind you. Who knows what would have happened if you kept your hand in his for any longer; his warmth and the comfort he radiates with only the touch of his hands made you think how good he would f- NO NO STOP RIGHT THERE!

3. The horizon knows about us

It’s a lonely sunset - that’s how you call it when there is no one to share the view with. Nevertheless, it does not stop you from admiring it, eyes filling with light coming from a colorful sky that resembles a drunk painting.

The admirer has an admirer which is watching from behind, slowly approaching.

“I thought you didn’t like lonely sunsets?” - Sanji approaches, taking his hands off his pockets and resting his arms on the wooden plateau.

“Well, - you smile, tilting your head towards him. - we have to stop and appreciate what burns for us, and the sun has been burning for way too long.”

You say those words and Sanji is fully immersed, captivated, staring at your profile like he would keep burning if it means his eyes would get the blessing of seeing you everyday, his light would keep shining on you, setting himself a blaze to let you be warm, always.

“You know, I'm sure it's a pleasure for the sun to burn for you. - he takes a deep breath before continuing, mastering the courage to look at you in the eyes. - And just like it, I too have been burning for a while.”

Your eyes widen at his statement, face immediately turning to him.

“Why so?” - your voice comes out so soft and caring that Sanji’s lip trembles.

“There are words I want to say, feelings I want to express, verses of my own that I want to recite that are stuck on my throat, making me unable to breath, suffocating me.” - Sanji starts explaining, grabbing your hands together and resting them on his chest.

“It’s all in here. - he says. - please tell me that you feel it too.”

You have stopped blinking for a while now, trying to take in as much as possible from the situation. The sun keeps setting as so do your feelings. They become more evident, a sudden epiphany hitting the depths of your very soul. Your heart recognizes, understands what Sanji is talking about cause you feel it, you have felt it many times.

“Sanji… - you call his name, tightening the grip on his hands. - I’m listening this time. More than ever I’m not only listening to you but also to my own heart. - you gulp hard, approaching him closer. - I need you to tell me first.”

Sanji smiles, putting your hands in front of his lips, hiding the blush of his cheeks whilst not breaking eye contact.

“I confess to you, the sun and the horizon that I have inevitably fallen in love with you.” - his voice does not tremble, nor does his body shake. However, both of your hearts are going crazy as the heat between you becomes more and more evident. After an intense prolonged eye contact, you cup his cheek, glancing at the sky for a second whilst noticing the darkness setting in, a darkness that you do not loath anymore.

“Let me then confess to you, the moon and the stars that I have fallen in love with you too.” - you smile cheekily, making Sanji mirror your genuine smile, this time not awkwardly but wholeheartedly, as he grabs your waist swiftly, bringing you close to his embrace.

The sun is completely set and the sky has fully darkened. There is now the moon who watches over along with the little stars that dance happily over lovers. No matter what time, the horizon had witnessed two lovers uniting, giving them all the colors that it could present for such a memorable moment.

Thus, it did take him a while, but now Sanji and you have found peace in each other, a comfort that only love can provide. And a fairytale have you become for people who gather the courage to express what lies deep inside them, taming the fire so that it could warm your lover but never burn you.

[here-for-fanart]

My Opinion on Timebomb Fics

(Disclaimer: This is by no means serious criticism. I love all Timebomb fics. Thank you to the authors that write them. You're one of the reasons I'm alive today. This is just my opinion on the Timebomb canon dynamic and what I wish there was more of.)

Can we agree, it is hard as hell to write the Timebomb dynamic correctly? I stan maybe a handful of Timebomb fics, and even some of those have the wrong dynamic to me. To me, Timebomb is the peak of enemies to lovers, because the conflicts between them are nearly impossible to resolve. For the fics to feel canon to me, they have to have:

• Jinx remaining Jinx. Any fics that take her back to being Powder (or even call her Powder), or cure her insanity with the power of love, don't work for me. She's Jinx, and she's worked hard to get to the level of crazy she's at. What makes Jinx the better version of Powder is that she has Powder's heart, but she's more cunning, reckless, and dangerously capable. She thinks outside of the box and never conforms to anyone's rules, unless it benefits her. Anything that changes that is out of character, in my opinion.

• Ekko having an attraction and romantic feelings towards Jinx, outside of his history with Powder. I want him to feel all the guilt and angst, because here is the crazy, psychotic killer who has been murdering his friends, but he thinks she's attractive and wants to date her. Ekko liking Jinx solely because she used to be Powder, or as an older version of Powder, is lazy writing to me. I want the mental anguish of an Ekko who hates himself, because Powder is gone, and this demon is in her place, and he's STILL falling for her. I want him to question his own sanity at some point, because why does he like THIS? I want Ekko to fall for her, before he sees any hint of Powder in her. Seeing the old Powder in Jinx should be a bonus to his love for her, not the foundation of it.

• Belligerent Teamwork. They are enemies and have been for years. I don't like the fics where they just fall into easy teamwork, as if they were picking up where they left off as kids. I want them to be at each other's throats about decisions. Jinx is a lone wolf with problems following authority, and Ekko has been the leader of the Firelights for years. There is gonna be some tension. Who's in charge? Ha, let them fight for dominance. 😈

• Jinx being bad at romance/sex/love. This is the girl who has been isolated for a lot of her life. Even when she was with the gang in the first three episodes of season 1, she felt like an outlier. With her trust issues, there's no way she was comfortable enough to explore her sexuality and get to know people on an intimate level. At least, not healthily. At most, I'd give her reckless one-night stands or having killed her old exes during a psychotic episode. Other than that, I think Ekko is the more experienced between them.

• A healthy respect for each other. Even if Jinx is frothing at the mouth mad, or Ekko is being a coward in Jinx's eyes, I want them to still have an underlying respect for each other. Ekko should never think less of Jinx for her mental instability. And Jinx, while ruthless, should respect Ekko's decision to put his people before himself. Even if they disagree and do not understand each other's decisions, they should respect each other in their private thoughts.

____________

That's just a few things I'd want in a fic. I'm pretty sure my opinion will change with the new season, but it's a welcome change. Thank you again to all the writers who write the fics I read and provide me with my dopamine/serotonin fix on a daily basis. I appreciate all your hard work!

Is there anything you guys wish Timebomb fics had? I'd love to hear it.

[ladyshinga]

The saddest thing I've noticed in all the Acolyte whining (well ok the saddest is just the blatant bigotry, this is the second saddest) is the deeply incurious nature of Reaction culture. An incomplete and unfinished story has people SCREAMING in rage because of "plot holes" and "inconsistencies" which were, bear with me here... HINTS. They were HINTS. There was PLOT hidden in those "holes", you were SUPPOSED to notice something funky was going on. That's what HAPPENS in a STORY.

But when the culture is all about "well I need to IMMEDIATELY have a strong Reaction to things the SECOND they come out, therefore there is no time to bother with nuance or patience to see where a story goes before I call it out as a flaw"

If you wanna speedrun this sort of content, that one guy, what's his face... Cinema Sins? he'll do this for a full video with seemingly no self-awareness. He'll whine in the first 20 minutes of the film that there's a "plot hole" and then that "hole" is revealed to actually be on purpose and explained perfectly in the next 60 minutes of the film and he won't even BOTHER to edit out his own shortsightedness from his reaction video. Because he doesn't care. Because the point is never actual media analysis, it's JUST the dopamine rush of an IMMEDIATE Reaction. the immediate judgement. the cheap and easy laugh of "figuring out" where the creators fucked up.

Don't be that guy. Don't shriek about plot holes in unfinished stories. Just shut up and, like. Wait. Before you show your own ass to the whole world as some one who can't figure out media analysis beyond the most shallow possible interpretations. it's just a Reaction. and god are those boring.

[crumbledcastle28]

Din Djarin: Languid

Pairing: Din Djarin x fem!reader (she/her; afab)

Excerpt: “Can we do this now?” he asked, resting his nose against your cheek. His breaths coated your face. “Please?”

You smiled, burying your hands in his hair. Your eyes drifted closed in bliss. “Yes, Din. I want you. Right now.”

He kissed your cheek and placed your hands back on his armor. “Please get this off of me, and please keep me awake.”

And you did.

Warnings: sleepy, love-filled sex between a married couple. Wife!reader, grogu’s asleep, unprotected sex, mostly just kissing and feeling up. NOT breeding kink. A bit of cockwarming.

A/N: Once again, Happy Dincember everyone. I cannot explain how grateful I am for almost 3,000 followers without crying.

If you’d like to leave a like, comment, ask, or reblog, it would be much appreciated :)

Pedro Masterlist

(GIF from Pinterest)

The familiar scuff of his boots on the Crest floor pulled you from REM sleep into barely languid, and the heat of your body from the cot’s covers warmed just so.

Your riduur was home.

Due to how out of it you were, it took you a few moments to realize that no, this wasn’t a dream. This was real. The two-day mission turned five, turned seven, turned nine, turned twelve was finally over, and your numb body somehow found the strength to prop itself up and drape yourself with the blankets.

You sat like that, all wrapped up in your cocoon, smiling to yourself with your eyes closed, for a few moments. You then stood up slowly, taking the blankets with you, and squinted your way out of the bedroom. Your eyes were no wider than slits, and you thanked the maker for muscle memory.

You swallowed the sleep from your mouth and rounded the corner, feeling your muscles ache with stretch, still in a daze. Your head was beginning to swim with dopamine, and with one last yawn, you made it to the cock pit.

The sight before you halted you instantly.

There was your husband, wrapped in wealth and impenetrable metal, leaning over Grogu’s tiny bassinet. He must have gotten fussy when Din opened the airlock, and Din had immediately taken care of it.

You’d have to thank him for that later.

He sat Grogu up, patting his back, and fed him small bites of maple bar. His favorite.

“That’s it buddy,” he whispered. “Swallow. There ya go.”

You stood and watched this encounter, soaking it in. It was moments like this that you missed the most when he was gone—moments so domiciliary and domesticated that they etched into your heart implicitly. These moments were so wrapped in rarity that you could not even daydream about them or yearn for them, because you didn’t even know they existed. Like watching a Mandalorian brush his teeth, or chop an onion, or change the sheets, or breathe at night. They were the memories you would recall when you were old and graying, unable to describe them in a way that did them justice.

You wrapped yourself tighter in the blankets, just watching and basking in the glow of it. Eventually Din laid Grogu down, tucking him in, and traced his face with his leather-bound glove.

“Goodnight buddy,” he whispered, and turned to you.

You looked up at him in all his sheathing, and smiled.

“Hi,” you whispered.

“Hi,” he whispered back. He smelled of metal and woods with a hint of gunpowder. In the nearly pitch black of the room his shoulders still appeared as broad as ever, his armor was caked in mud, and his weapons belt hung a noticeable amount lower than usual.

You took a moment to soak in the fact that you would look at him like this for the rest of your life.

“I didn’t mean to wake you,” he said, moving closer to you.

“You didn’t,” you replied, “your boots did.”

His chuckle underneath the modulator was nothing like it was out of it, but it was enough to bring you home.

“You know I like being up for you when you get back,” you said, looking up higher at him as he came closer and closer. The warmth of the blankets and increased blood flow were not the only things warming your insides now. “Let me be your docile, obedient wife for once.”

You could feel the smirk on his face. “Yes. Obedient and docile, perfect for you.”

He made it to you, wrapping his hands around your waist. Your hands laid on top of his cooled beskar chest and chills etched up your spine as you looked up at him with a smile.

He pressed his forehead firmly against your own. The smell of forest and frost on him engulfed you. “My wife is none of those things.”

You hummed. “No, she isn’t.”

He began slowly walking you backwards into the bedroom, as if you were swaying in a dance, and your hands crept up to his helmet.

“Why didn’t you wake me up when the kid was fussy? I could have taken care of him.”

His gloved hands trailed up your back and the exhaustion in his voice was present. “I missed him. Wanted to take care of him.”

You smiled and pressed a kiss to his visor, tasting a mix of ice and salt that burned your chapped lips. “Okay.”

The back of your knees hit the bed frame and you stopped, creeping your hands underneath Din’s helmet.

“If you take this thing off me I’m not going to be able to keep my mouth off you.”

He said it so nonchalantly, as if that was a normal thing to say, and the fatigue of his voice and body language liquified you even more. Your still drowsy state was not helping matters.

You felt euphoric, in a perfect state of conscious and unconscious, like you were still in a dream. It was paradise.

“That’s exactly what I had in mind,” you said, removing the sheets wrapped around you. You let them fall onto the bed before reaching back up for him, slowly rising the helmet off of his head. The familiar hiss coated your ears as it rose, and the chocolate eyes that were yours forever met your own.

He smiled in the dark, illuminated by the moon. He brought his mouth inches away from yours, breathing in your breaths. “Hi.”

“Hi,” you responded, and he kissed you.

Immediately, the taste and feel of him washing over you threatened to crumble you to the floor. Din hands on your waist were the only things keeping you upright.

He kept you standing like it was nothing.

He kissed you slowly and deeply, taking his sweet time tasting you again. Your hands worked their way up his body, tracing his beskar all the way up to his hair. Your tongue met his at the same moment your nails scratched his scalp, and he pulled away from you to groan.

“Can we do this now?” he asked, resting his nose against your cheek. His breaths coated your face. “Please?”

You smiled, burying your hands in his hair. Your eyes drifted closed in bliss. “Yes, Din. I want you. Right now.”

He kissed your cheek and placed your hands back on his armor. “Please get this off of me, and please keep me awake.”

And you did.

Piece by piece, you disrobed the Mandalorian from his beskar down to complete nudity, watching his eyes open and close as he began to drift to sleep as he stood. A few times you had to lean him onto you to prevent him from falling, and he kissed around your pulse point every time. Whispering gibberish.

Finally you squatted down to remove his boots, and just like that, he was naked in front of you. His purple under-eyes stood out in the moonlight, as well as a new scar across his abdomen. Your irises coated in worry, reaching up to feel it, but he stopped you.

“Tomorrow,” he said, kissing you more passionately than he had all night. “Tomorrow.”

Then he disrobed you.

The rough skin on his hands tracing you lit you on fire, boiling you enough to keep you conscious. He was the slowest with your panties, pulling them down your thighs like an art form. You scratched your nails down his warm back, and that seemed to speed him up.

As soon as the fabric hit the floor Din lifted you into his arms, laying you down flat on the cot before crawling overtop of you.

“Din, you’re tired, I can—”

“No,” he said, burying his head in your neck. “Wanna be close to you.”

You couldn’t say no to that.

He took the sheets you had discarded and covered them over the two of you. You could see nothing else but him, and you were completely surrounded by the scent and warmth of his skin.

“Maker I missed you so badly,” he said before kissing you hard enough to make you whine. You pulled him as close to you as possible, tracing his body as he kissed and kissed and kissed you, memorizing your mouth. The passion and heat in you were rising, and with one trace down his haired chest with your nail, he pulled away. He traced his hands over your face, pushing your hair away to see you fully. You traced his face too, noticing his scruff had turned into a full beard.

You always liked that look on him.

“Y/N,” he whispered. “My Y/N.” He spoke as if you were unbelievable

“I’m right here,” you responded, holding his face in your hands.

“I just want to be inside of you,” he whispered, almost pathetically. “Can we just skip to that part?”

You smiled, laughing loudly, and kissed him quickly. “Yes.”

He huffed a laugh and kissed you again, nice and slow, like he had been the whole night.

He kissed you and felt you for so long that you didn’t know if he would make it. His movements slowed and slowed as he went on, touching you and tracing you so meticulously it was like he was painting you from nothing.

Finally, with a firm kiss to your jawline, he entered you tortuously. You exhaled in pure pleasure, and your body threatened to rapture already.

He was a dream come true.

Din halted when he was as deep as he could go and tucked his head into your neck. “Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum, cyar’ika riduur.”

You kissed the side of his head. “Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum, adol akaan.”

And that’s when he started to move.

As he moved in and out, in and out, in and out, dragging each thrust on and on to feel every inch of your folds. He felt all around you, re-memorizing you; how you skin felt, how your body had changed, and the exact rhythm of your heart.

Tears spilled from your eyes as he moved, and you moaned his name over and over, grateful for the return of it in your tongue.

“Keep—keep doing that, saying my name,” he said as he moved. “Almost forgot I had it.”

You repeated it over and over again, clenching around Din when he began to shake. He swirled his shaking fingers around your clit, and with one last clench, the both of you went.

The covers above your heads did little to hide the sound of your synchronization, and it was then that you really started to drift. Din was so warm inside you—filling you up completely—and his body had you trapped in a cave of sheets and serenity. You were perfectly satisfied with your husband safe and sound in your arms, and your body began to fail you.

You felt Din prop himself up and press kisses around your face and your mouth, and your lips tingled with the intensity of it all. He rubbed his nose against yours and pecked your lips before laying back on top of you, pulling the covers raised above his head off as he did. You were hit with fresh air, and were inches away from bliss before Din whispered one last thing in your ear.

“Goodnight, docile and obedient wife.”

You drifted off with a smile.

None of this was a dream. This was real.

Your riduur was home.

Mando’a Translations:

Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum, cyar’ika riduur: I love you/ I will know you forever, my sweet wife.

Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum, adol akaan: I love you/ I will know you forever, even through war.

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