#I wanna do something for it but I don’t know what

[blueberrisdove-sideblog]

Caleb touching and sucking mc’s tits for the first time after seeing her on a low cut top without a bra. He was very nervous but couldn’t help it🤍

．— ℱ）𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈 ：fem!reader ．nsfw．boob obsessed Caleb．tit fucking ．boob sucking ．submissive Caleb ＆ other stuff!

Caleb wasn’t the type to lose control easily. He prided himself on his self-restraint, on keeping a level head even in the most tempting situations.

But when you walked into his room wearing that low-cut top—without a bra—he felt his entire body betray him.

He tried not to stare. He really tried. But the way the fabric clung to your skin, the soft curves of your tits teasing him with every movement, made it impossible. His mouth felt dry, his fingers twitching where they rested on his knee.

You flopped onto his bed, stretching your arms above your head, and his eyes immediately dropped to the way your chest lifted with the motion. He bit the inside of his cheek so hard he swore he tasted blood.

“You’re acting weird,” you teased, tilting your head at him.

He scoffed, but it sounded too forced. “No, I’m not.”

You followed his gaze, then glanced down at yourself, a knowing smile playing on your lips. “Oh…” Your voice was light, teasing. “Are you staring at my—?”

“Don’t,” he muttered, rubbing his palm over his face.

But you only giggled, shifting closer until your knees bumped his. “Do you wanna touch them?”

Caleb stiffened, breath catching in his throat. “What?”

You reached for his hand, guiding it over your chest, and his fingers curled instinctively around the soft warmth. His entire body tensed. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t think.

“Fuck pipsqueak,” he exhaled, barely above a whisper. His thumb grazed over your nipple, feeling it stiffen beneath his touch, and something primal stirred deep in his stomach.

Your breath hitched, the sound so quiet yet so devastating that his restraint snapped. He leaned in, pressing his lips to your collarbone, kissing his way down to the exposed skin of your chest. His tongue flicked out, testing, tasting, before he wrapped his lips around your nipple and sucked.

A sharp gasp left your lips, and your fingers immediately tangled in his hair, pulling him closer. He groaned against your skin, his hands gripping your waist as he took more of you into his mouth, sucking harder, letting his teeth graze just enough to make you shiver.

“You—fuck, Caleb,” you whimpered, arching into him, and that was it. That was the sound that ruined him.

His hands roamed greedily, his mouth moving between your tits, kissing, licking, devouring every inch you offered him. He didn’t even know what he was doing anymore—all he knew was that he needed more. More of your skin, more of your moans, more of you.

And from the way you clung to him, breathless and desperate, you needed it too.

Caleb was completely unraveling beneath you. The way his breath hitched, the way his fingers trembled against your skin—it was addicting. He wasn’t in control anymore, and you loved it.

“Pipsqueak,” he groaned, voice shaky, like he was barely holding himself together. “You’re—fuck—y’know what you’re doing, don’t you?”

You hummed, sliding your hands down his chest, feeling the way it rose and fell in uneven breaths. His cock strained against his pants, so obvious, so desperate, and the way he twitched beneath you sent a thrill down your spine.

“I dunno,” you murmured, trailing your fingers lower. “You’re the one shaking, Caleb.”

He let out a choked noise when you palmed him through the fabric, his hips jerking up into your touch. “Shut up,” he tried, but there was no bite behind it. If anything, he sounded needy.

You tugged at his waistband, watching his breath stutter as you freed him from the confines of his pants. His cock was flushed, leaking at the tip, and he twitched at the cool air. You pressed a teasing kiss to his stomach, grinning when he sucked in a sharp breath.

“You’re so hard already,” you whispered. “Is it ‘cause I let you suck on my tits, Caleb?”

His face burned. “Pipsqueak—”

You cut him off by pressing your tits together around his cock, watching as his head fell back against the pillows. His lips parted, breathless, and you felt a rush of satisfaction at the sight.

“Shit,” he whimpered, hands gripping the sheets. You rolled your hips slightly, adding just enough pressure as you moved, and he cursed under his breath.

He was falling apart so easily.

“You’re so sensitive,” you teased, lifting yourself slightly before pressing back down, letting his cock slide between the soft warmth of your chest. “You like this, don’t you?”

He let out the most pathetic whimper, his hips bucking up into you. “F-fuck, yes.”

You leaned in, letting your breath ghost over the head of his cock, and his entire body tensed. His thighs trembled as you flattened your tongue against the tip of his cock, licking up the precum that had gathered there.

Caleb moaned, gripping the sheets tighter. “Pipsqueak—please—”

You smirked. He was begging now?

“Please what?” You dragged out the words, slowing your movements just to watch him suffer.

His head snapped forward, eyes blown wide with desperation. His lips parted, trying to form words, but all that came out was desperate, breathless whimper.

God, he was so easy to break.

And you weren’t done with him yet.

Caleb was falling apart beneath you. His chest heaved, his fingers twitching where they gripped the sheets, completely at your mercy. His cock throbbed between your boobs, slick with his own precum, and every time you moved, his breath hitched like he was this close to losing himself.

“Look at you,” you murmured, pressing your chest together tighter around him. “So needy… you can’t even handle this, can you?”

He whined, actually whined, his hips jerking up involuntarily. “F-fuck, please—”

“Please what?” You slowed your pace, teasing him, watching his face twist in frustration. His cheeks were flushed, his lips parted as little breathless moans spilled from them.

“Please—ah, shit—please don’t stop.” His voice was wrecked, desperate. “I-I can’t—fuck, I need—”

You smirked, shifting slightly to let your tongue flick over his tip again, tasting the heat of him as he shuddered beneath you.

“Need what, Caleb?” You licked up the underside, slow and deliberate, watching the way his muscles tensed. “Say it.”

His fingers flexed, then clenched the sheets so hard his knuckles turned white. His body was trembling, barely able to handle the way you had him trapped between your softness, teasing, dragging out every second just to watch him crumble.

“I need—fuck—I need to cum,” he gasped. “Please, pipsqueak, I—ahh—please.”

God, he was pathetic. A trembling mess beneath you, completely at your mercy, begging like he’d fall apart if you didn’t let him have it.

You smirked, pressing your soft tits even tighter around his cock, moving faster, watching the way his body tensed, the way his thighs shook.

“Then cum for me,” you murmured, licking your lips as his breath caught.

Caleb let out a choked moan, his hips bucking up into the warmth of your chest, his entire body shuddering as he finally broke. His grip on the sheets tightened, back arching as he came undone, spilling between your pillowy tits with a wrecked gasp of your name.

You watched him, drinking in the way he trembled, the way his body sagged into the mattress, utterly spent. His breath was ragged, eyes hazy as he stared at you like you had completely ruined him.

And maybe you had.

His fingers twitched, weakly reaching for you, but he didn’t have the strength to pull you close. You leaned over him anyway, pressing a teasing kiss to his sharp jaw.

“You’re so easy, Caleb,” you whispered. “I might have to do this more often.”

His breath hitched, and even in his wrecked state, you could feel him twitch against your thigh.

Yeah. He was definitely yours now.

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[bernardsbendystraws]

𝐂𝐔𝐓𝐄 𝐉𝐄𝐀𝐍𝐒 — 𝐂.𝐒.

Synopsis: Nick has been your best friend for so long, but you can’t seem to get a long with his brother—Chris. You try to mess with Chris and it backfires….badly….

Warnings: illegal street racing, stupid driving, tension, smut with so much plot it hurts, street racer Chris, BIG MASSIVE SHLONG CHRIS, size kink, bulge kink, dick-wad Chris, p n v, raw sex, riding (wink), and more....

A/N: THIS IS OVER 5.2K WORDS. THIS IS NAWT A QUICK READ. Now, get in the car bitches, we're getting HORNYYYYYY!!!!

With love and bigs tits, Rose

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“Hey, cute jeans!” I wave, my lips curling into a grin as I squint my eyes at him—Chris. He rolls his tongue, shaking his head as he stalks off further down the street. Ha. 

It’s one of those rare occurrences—I’m here—at his street race, for god knows what reason. 

All I ever do is mock him. In fact, that’s why I call him cute jeans. The first time Nick and I had shown up at one of these dumb things, Chris thought I was a stranger from behind—and my jeans? Damn. 

He had to be a real asshole and hit on me. 

That night was fun for more than one reason. It sparked something—something I didn’t know existed. 

After that, my teasing only got worse. Chris’s ego couldn’t handle staying silent, he always had something smart to say. 

“Come to watch me again, huh? Gonna record it for later, I bet,” Chris winks. My mouth snaps shut as I go to say something back. He’s already gone—not giving me a second to respond before shutting the door to his car and speeding down the road. 

Typical. 

It’s still bright out. The sun sinks lower into the horizon as more people crowd the deserted street by the minute. 

“Okay, let’s just take a couple more pics and then we’ll go. I know you hate this,” Nick huffs, adjusting the leather jacket he’s wearing—the same coat that inspired this whole photoshoot. But you couldn’t blame him, he did look hot as fuck. 

Even if his looks resemble a certain idiot lurking nearby. 

Part of me is burning with spite. I hate letting Chris have the last word. But my brain sparks with an idea, a brilliant idea. 

How much would it cost him if I stayed around? 

Those stupid bets were always placed in his favor. No one could deny he was good—really good. He drove on the street like he owned it and he never even seemed nervous. 

“I kinda wanna stay—” My words are interrupted as I feel an arm rest down on my shoulders. I look over to see Beck, a girl I love seeing. 

She’s vibrant—especially with her signature red lip that seemed to draw all eyes to her. I always blossom off her confidence, loving to sit next to her when she showed true female power all with one swing of that stupid flag in the air. 

“How are ya, girlie? Haven’t seen you in months,” she puffs, hugging me a little bit closer before dropping her arm back to her side. 

I smile over at her. “Pretty good, you still stomping on egos?” I question, the glint of mischief in her eyes reflecting back as she gives me a slow nod. 

“Oh, always. Especially Chris—and it’s just for you.” She boops my nose as her words drag through the wind, the sound of tires screeching starting to muffle the chaotic hum of the crowd forming. 

Nick stares down at the camera lens, scrolling through the pictures I had taken of him—the reason why we were here, pretty much. “Actually, I think we got enough. But are you sure you wanna stay? I can come back and get you later—”

Beck brushes on Nick’s shoulder. She scrunches her nose at me while licking over her teeth. “I got her, Nick. Go home and post those pics, I’ll return her to you safely after tonight, don’t worry.” 

“Alright…” Nick sighs, reluctantly hugging me and wandering back towards his car to head home. 

“So why’d you wanna stay? Finally like cars?” Beck interrogates. 

I shake my head vigorously, laughing as she smiles at me. “Fuck no, I just—”

“You’re gonna mess with him, aren’t you?”

Her question rings through the air as a speeding car flies by—racers already warming up.

My eyes trace towards the track, seeing a sleek red sports car in the distance doing donuts. Of fucking course. Chris was always doing some dumb shit—illegal street racing or doing fucking donuts while the other racers were repeatedly drifting around the corners or fixing up their cars. 

He’s so cocky. 

I whisper back to her as I watch his car tires mark the pavement. “Damn right.”

___

Chris is already fed up—I can tell by the way his jaw clicks and his nostrils flare when I catch him in the corner of my eye. 

And I’m looking directly at him, a stupid smile covering my face as I put my money on the bet table. It’s twenty bucks, but it was twenty bucks I was willing to spend, or rather waste. Chris hasn’t lost in a while—honestly I’m not sure if he ever has. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” Chris huffs, pulling me by the arm as he drags me to the side of the road by his car. 

He roughly shoves me. The feeling of his car pressed up against my backside leaves my eyes twinkling with pride—I’m really getting to him. Just like I planned.

I shrug. “Just placing my bets. Isn’t that what everyone does at these—”

“Why are you here? Why’re you–,” as his eyes stare into mine, his rough tone falls silent, his scowl curling into a smirk as he analyzes the subtle twitch of my nose. “Huh—just comin’ to watch, right?” 

I nod to his question, my pride sinking to my feet as I try to stand up tall. Chris presses his body against mine, making my weight lean against the car once more. I swallow thickly as his hand drops from my arm. 

What is he doing?

“You know, I meant it, right?” he tuts, his eyes tracing your figure with no shame. “These jeans… baby, they look so good on you.” His voice gets deeper, his head falling forward as his lips graze my ear. “-bet they’d look better off though, hm?”  

Fuck. 

I wish it didn’t make something inside the pit of my gut burn—but it did. God, it really fucking did. My heart is hammering against my chest, the pulse in my neck pounding in my ears as slight butterflies in my stomach make it harder to breathe. 

Shoving my body quickly, I manage to escape his hold. “Shut up. You’re such a cocky prick,” I spit, my arms folding across my chest as I try to keep a stern expression. 

Chris lets out a dry laugh, grinning like he’s already won. He takes a couple steps forward, letting his hand travel into the ends of my hair, “And yet, you love it. I can practically hear how nervous I’m makin’ you, it’s a real ego boost,” he husks. 

“You don’t make me—” My lips fall open further, motionless as his hand moves to my neck, his cold fingers brushing against my pulse as my eyes go wide. 

“Not nervous, huh…” His head leans towards the side as he stares all over my face. His eyes linger on my lips as I try to look away. 

But it’s impossible. Chris swerves his head, not letting my eyes leave his as he just stares at me. 

“Chris, stop—”

“Why? Do I make you too nervous?” he urges, licking over his teeth and letting his hands drop down to his sides. 

I feel a wave of heat caress up my spine and over my shoulders. “Don’t you have some stupid race to lose?” 

The taunt seems humorous to him, the last resolve of my dignity peeking through mumbled words as he wipes over his mouth. 

“Alright, alright. Guess I’ll go try to lose, but—I might need your help.” He shrugs, walking off with a wink. 

Uh oh. 

Help?

___

I can’t tell what the fuck is going through his brain. Part of me regrets staying—but another part of me is sickly invested in whatever this twisted game is. 

Nearly all bets had been placed. Stacks of money rested on the plastic table with a heavy bais—most were betting on Chris. 

It had to be at least two grand. 

He wouldn’t give up two grand for some petty argument with me, right? No—that would be insane. Absolutely bonkers. 

…right?

I watch as Beck stands in the middle of the dark street, the only glow coming from the blue streetlights above. The sun had set quickly, the stars and moon doing nothing compared to the headlights from all the cars.

My legs hurt. I didn’t realize I had been clenching every muscle for the entirety of the countdown to the actual race. The cold bleachers sting against my skin in the night air—maybe I would’ve dressed warmer if I thought I was gonna stay. But no—I was stuck shivering in jeans, a purple lace bra peeking from under my black top, and a letterman jacket. 

The front row gave the best view, but I had no one to shield the bitter breeze. But it was worth it. This way I got to sit by Beck the entire time. 

“Racers ready?” she shouts, her voice prominent over the reviving engines as she holds the flag in the air. 

Chris is on the side closer to me, his boyish smile apparent as I stare at the side of his face. The other guy was one of the better ones—the bets had some sort of hope in him, a large stack of bills showing that he had a decent amount of skill. 

My mouth waters as I see Chris run a hand through his hair, his head turning and his eyes catching mine. Holy fuck. He looks absolutely dreamy—there’s not an ounce of anxiety, pure confidence radiating from him. 

And it makes it so hard to look away. 

“Wait, I got one more bet I gotta place,” Chris announces. 

What?

My brows furrow, my face scrunching as I watch Beck relax the flag back down to her side. “Make it quick.” 

Chris nods at her words, my stomach flutters as he stares directly back at me, leaning his head out his window while licking over his lips. “Wanna make a bet, sweetheart?” he asks. 

I look around me, my shoulder sinking slightly as I take in the amount of people staring at me. 

He’s holding up the race to embarass me. Fuck. 

As I stare back at him with squinted eyes, he clicks his tongue on the side of his mouth. “If I win, I get to take you for a drive. Deal?”

“What?” I exclaim, throwing my hand in the air as I motion to the bet table, “Why the hell would I agree to that—”

“You bet against me, remember?” he points. 

My lips smack shut, the lump in my throat gathering thicker as I try to swallow. “I’ll even give you the chance to make sure I lose a round. We gotta bet or not?” he questions, his eyes twinkling as the blue lights illuminate his sharp features.  

If he had to lose one of the three rounds, that put more hope into the other racer. And if the other race won, I’d be more than content. Getting to call him a loser would definitely irk him more than anything—especially if it was true.

I hear boos chant around me. “Hurry up and race!” someone says from behind me. 

My body stiffens as I hear the chorus of disapproval. “Deal!” I shout, biting on my inner cheek. 

Chris looks at me with a daunting grin, his hand squeezing on the wheel as he nods. “A’right—ready. Sorry for the hold up.” 

Beck rolls her eyes, holding up the flag once more. 

“Racers ready?” she glares at Chris, continuing on as he revs his engine in response, “3—2—-1, GO—”

My heart drops as I watch the smoke from the tires scratching the street float around Beck. She saunters over, settling beside me as I lean forward, my pulse pounding in my ears as I watch them race side-by-side. 

As the car rounds the corner and starts nearing the finish line, Chris’s car zooms just slightly in front of the other vehicle, only seconds of a difference. 

I can’t wait to call him a fuckin loser. 

Beck walks back out, the flag raising in the air as both cars position once again. “Alright, race two. Ready, set—” 

“Hey!” 

Stomping her heels on the pavement, Beck scowls at Chris as he shouts towards my direction. I look over, my face burning as I feel the crowd stare down at me. 

I didn’t know much about racing, but I knew enough. This wasn’t normal—this was the prime way to piss people off. 

As I go to ask what he wants, Chris curls his finger, motioning for me to come closer. 

The fuck? 

I hesitantly stand up, my arms wrapped tightly around my torso as I walk up to his car window. Chris stares up at me with devious eyes. He obnoxiously chews a piece of gum, his jaw bone protruding with each movement. 

“What the fuck do you want?!” I whisper-yell, catching angry eyes boring onto me as I take a quick glance over my shoulder. 

Oh, these people are mad—fucking furious, even. 

“Kiss me.” 

I do a double take, my eyes blinky slowly as I watch him lick over the bottom ridges of his teeth, his fingers tapping on the steering wheel. 

“What?” I breathe out, a dry laugh heaving from my lips. 

He can’t be serious…

“However long you kiss me is however long I’ll wait to start drivin’. Didn’t you want me to lose? C’mon pretty girl, you saw the bet table—use your head, alright? It’s just a kiss,” he taunts.

This is how he was gonna give me the chance to make him lose a round—I should’ve known. 

I shake my head, cringing as I hear the boo’s from the crowd get louder. 

“I’m startin’,” Beck says, holding up the flag. “3—”

“Yes or no? It’s up to you,” he shrugs, his eyes drawing over my face as my lips smack open and shut. 

“2—”

The noise of his engine revving makes my anxiety settle. This is my chance—my only chance at that. 

“Fuck it,” I murmur, taking a long stride towards him. 

“1—GO!” 

I crash my lips onto his, my hands on either side of his jaw. His lips meet mine with a hard urgency, the rhythm of my movement panicked and rushed. 

My breath hitches in my chest—I don’t know if it’s because I forgot to breathe or if it’s from the feeling of his hand traveling up and tangling around the back of my neck, pulling me impossibly closer as he slips his warm tongue into my mouth. 

I nearly forget everything, gasping for air as I pull back quickly, moaning as I feel his mouth hungrily chase mine. 

Never in my life had I been kissed like this—so passionately and rough. 

“Hey! This gotta be breakin’ some rules–”

Fuck. 

The person yelling from the crow makes me pull back into reality. I stand up, watching as Chris slowly flutters his eyes open at me with a grin so cocky my hand twitches with the urge to slap him. 

Why did that feel so… good? 

Before anyone can say a thing, the other car slowly halts back to the starting line. 

Had we really been kissing that long? 

My fingers mindlessly float up to my tingling lips, my head feeling lighter as the surroundings start to spin a bit. It’s like he put some drug in his mouth that immediately became addicting. I want more. 

“See? I kept my word,” Chris points out, “Now—you gonna keep your word if I win? Lemme take you for a drive?” I swallow thickly, nodding slowly. “Good. Now go sit down and cheer for me real loud, alright?” 

I don’t have time to respond before Beck interrupts with the same question, starting to count down. I quickly stumble back towards the bleachers, a sigh of relief pushing through my lips as my head bobbles between my shoulders while I sit down. 

The loud cars barely register in my brain. All I can focus on is how light everything feels, how my lips are swollen and pulsing. 

“C’MON!!!” 

Chants behind me draw my attention back to the road. What the fuck? It’s not even close—Chris is speeding around the corners way smoother than the first round, almost as if he had been—

Oh fuck.

He was holding back. 

I tried to mess with him and he played me with ease. 

Part of me should be mad as he races near the finish line—but all I feel is excitement—anticipation. 

My teeth clench into my lower lip as I watch him storm past the line, not even waiting for the other racer to finish before stepping out of his car and walking over. 

Is he…?

My eyes bulge as he walks in front of me, holding his hand out as an offer. “C’mon, you promised, yeah?” he urges. 

I nod slowly, sliding my hand in his. He drags me to his car, opening the passenger door and shutting it after I climb in. 

“Chris! The money—”

Beck’s words fall on deaf ears as Chris slides into the driver seat, pressing his foot on the gas hard. 

“You didn’t even get the money—what’re we doing?” I ask, looking behind my shoulder to see a crowd of people turned to our direction as we speed off further down the road. 

“You know, it’s not nice to try and tick me off,” he huffs, quickly glancing at me with a harsh stare. 

Oh.

Oh.

“I don’t know what you’re talkin’ abou–”

Chris lets out a vocal sound of disbelief, cutting me off, “Yeah, you do. Fuckin—bettin’ against me, tryna get me to lose and shit. For what? Don’t have a boyfriend to give you any attention, huh?” he asks, his hand reaching over and grasping onto my thigh. 

He knows I don’t have a boyfriend—I know he’s aware of that fact. 

I stare down at his large hand squeezing my jean-clad leg. Something about his rough grip makes me shift in my seat, my thighs clutching together as I feel a wave of warmth settle into the pit of my stomach. 

“You like my hand on your thigh, don’t you?” he says, smirking wider as I watch the blue streetlights cast a subtle glow on his cheekbones. 

“I—”

“You like it. Admit it.” 

There’s no room to argue as he trails his hand up further, his fingers tracing dangerously high as he gives me a rough squeeze. Fuck his hands feel good on me. 

“Chris what’re you—”

“Do you know how it feels to constantly see you and know I can’t touch you?” he starts, the car rolling to a stop by the side of the road as he rushedly shifts gears to park, “-you’re always fuckin’ teasin’ me—bein’ a damn brat and I have to keep my hands to myself,” he grits, shaking his head as he stares down at me. 

I swallow thickly as I shift in the seat. “Chris, I–”

“No. None of that bullshit. You’re always tauntin’ me. Why’d you stay, hm? Why?” he questions, his tongue clicking on the roof of his mouth as his eyes deepen with intensity and dominance. 

Silence. I can’t fathom any words to say, my pulse drumming quicker as Chris pats his lap, adjusting his chair back. 

“Over here. Now.” 

“Chris, what are we doing?” I ask, hesitantly starting to climb over the center console. 

His hands wrap around the underside of my thighs, pulling me quickly while I let out a slight yelp as he sits me down in his lap. His hands are firm on either side of my hips. “I’m done playin’ these stupid fuckin’ games. I just—” 

The air is quiet. His eyes fall to my lips, his hands grasping just a little bit tighter around me. I can still feel the lingering sensation from his lips on mine earlier, the slight tingle still buzzing on the soft muscle as I let myself lean in closer. 

“We should stop,” Chris breathes, his tongue sliding between his lips as his eyes flicker up towards mine. 

“Why?” 

The question rolls off my lips with ease, my palms flattening against his chest as I lower my mouth to his neck, breathing over his pulse. 

“Because–” He lets out a hiss. I place my lips on his neck, sucking gently as I massage my hand over his shoulder. “Shit—we gotta stop, baby—this, this–” His jaw goes slack as I find his sweet spot. His hands dig into my hips, the slight bulge growing beneath me making my lips curl into a smile as I gently grind myself on top of him. 

“Why do you wanna stop, Chris?” I ask, nibbling the bottom of his ear, “What’s got you so tongue-tied, hm?” 

“You’re killin’ me,” he points, his gaze trained on me as he tangles his hand through my hair, pulling me back just enough to look at him, “-fuckin’ so annoying, so pretty and horrible, I just—I don’t know how much I can hold back–”

“Don’t,” I whisper, my hand gathering the material of his shirt in a fist as I watch him bite on his lower lip. His eyes trace over my face, one of his hands slowly tracing underneath my shirt, callusing beneath my bra. 

“Yeah? Don’t want me to hold back, hm?” he remarks, his hips adjusting in the slightest, my mouth falling open as I feel him rut against me through the fabric of our clothes. 

Fuck. I can’t take this. 

I lean forward, crashing my lips against his once more. Chris hums into my mouth. He furiously helps me peel off the bulky letterman jacket, the cold air feeling like relief compared to my burning skin. 

“Holy fuck, slow down, baby,” he husks, his hands falling to my hips as I shameless grind myself against his hard bulge. But I can’t get enough. “-’m not going anywhere—gonna stay and make you feel so good. Promise.” 

My heart drops as I feel his hand delicately caress over the purple lace covering my breasts. His nimble fingers trace around my hardened nub, a slight moan falling through my lips as I feel him smirk against me. 

“Take those cute jeans off, c’mon. Be a good girl for me—just this once, alright?” he grins. 

I nod slowly, awkwardly shifting as I pull down the denim while kicking off my shoes. Chris gets impatient, yanking the clothing to his own accord before planting me back on his lap, his jacket now discarded. 

“Holy fuck, look at these legs—would look so good wrapped around me,” he whispers, brushing my hair to the side as his lips graze my neck, “-while I fuck you deep and hard.” 

Oh my god. 

My mind is numb, every inch of my skin pulsing with a hot sensation of greed. Chris stares at me with lust, his hand moving in the corner of my eye. “Want me to touch you? Right….here,” he breathes, the pad of his finger resting directly over my bundle of nerves. 

I nod slowly, looking at him with hooded eyes as he starts to slowly circle the digit with a light, feathery touch. 

“More,” I moan, pulling his shirt into my fists as I watch him smile at me. 

“Yeah? What do you want, hm? Want my big dick in you? Want me to stretch you out and make you cum over and ov—

“Please,” I whisper, my hips moving for me as I struggle to stay still. 

Chris looks down, gesturing for me to take control. I hesitantly fumble with his jeans, pulling out his hard length as my mouth starts to water. 

Fuck. He’s big. No—he’s huge. 

As I go to pull my underwear to the side, Chris stops me, placing his hand around my wrist. 

“Uh-uh,” he tuts, “-take ‘em all the way off—wanna see all of you when I fuck your guts.” 

My thighs tense from his words, my hands quickly sliding the fabric down my thighs and discarding them without a single care. Chris pets over the top of my thighs, his eyes hungrily staring down between my legs. “Fuck—are you sure you want this? I…god, I can’t believe this is happening…”

I grab his hardness in my hand, spitting and dragging the lubricant up and down his shaft. Chris grits his teeth. His hands pinching into my sides as he lets out a deep groan. “You’re so big,” I whisper, mostly talking to myself. 

My eyes bulge as I feel Chris lift me with his hands on either side of my waist, placing me so my dripping entrance is directly aligned with his tip. His eyes bore into mine with dark passion. His jaw tense as he leans forward, kissing along my neck. 

“You gonna take it all f’me?” he dares, massaging my sides but keeping me from sinking down onto him. 

“Chris, please–”

“Gotta promise to take it all, sweetheart. Been teasin’ me all day already, I don’t need anymore of that, alright? Just—just gotta promise to let me stuff you full,” he purrs, sucking on the sensitive part of my neck just below my ear. 

“I promise, just—mmphf—” He slowly loosens his grip, letting me lower myself. I feel his tip nudge past my entrance, the stretch of his size making my body tense as my legs tighten to a halt. 

“Thaatt’s it, doin’ so good, just—just relax,” he praises, brushing my hair behind my ear, “-gotta be a good girl and keep your word again, yeah?”

“Y-yeah,” I stutter, slowly starting to take more of him. A broken cry falling through my lips as I feel my body stiffen again. 

Chris is patient. His eyes are trained on my face as his hands massage over my body. “You got it, c’mon—just—holy fuck,” his hand lingers down to my stomach, my top so messed up that it’s bunched over my breasts. He’s not just admiring the skin, he’s worshipping the bulge—the distinct imprint of him inside of me as I hover over the last bit of his length. 

“Look at that, sweetheart, I mean—fuck—” 

I shriek as I feel him lift his hips upward, burying himself inside of me completely. My hands grasp onto his shoulders, my eyes teary as I watch him bite on his lower lip. “God—such a good girl, takin’ me so good,” he compliments, slowly helping me as I start to ride him. 

I feel him reach deep inside of me, my eyes staring up at the ceiling of the car while my body tenses with a wave of pleasure collapsing over every beating pulse of my skin. This is even better than that damn kiss. I’ve never felt like this before. Not ever. It’s like an adrenaline rush, so overbearingly good that it feels addicting.  

“How’s that, baby, hm?” he hums, smiling down at the sight of his length plunging into my guts with each thrust as my movements quicken. 

“I–it’s, I—” 

What the fuck was I saying? 

Everything feels so light, so impossible. 

“That’s it, fuckkkkk—look so good ridin’ me like this, keep—-shit!” he seethes. My walls tighten around him, my nails digging into his shoulder through his shirt as he lifts his hips to meet my movements.

His lips parted with pure ecstasy. 

“Fuck, fuck, I,” My words are cut off my a moan. 

Chris laughs dryly, his grip becoming tighten as he really puts in the work—using me like a ragdoll as he furiously fucks himself into me. “Mmmm, th-ere,” he rasps, smiling as I let out small shrieks and moans between each snap of his hips. 

He’s so deep. I’d never felt this good in my life. There’s a buzzing in my ears, spots in my vision as I feel my body ruthlessly convulse with the overwhelming sensations. 

How the fuck is he so deep?

How the hell is he hitting against the perfect spot over and over and over—

“You cumming already?” 

His question pulls me back to reality. I nod dumbly, my mouth drawing open as I let out a long moan, my thighs quivering as I rock myself against his movement. 

“Oh—I—”

“My name, sweetheart, wanna hear my–my name, c’mon,” he urges, the squelches getting louder as I feel my body burn with euphoria. 

“Chris, Chris, I–I—my god,” I cry out, my hips slowly rolling to a stop as I feel him pause his motions. 

I don’t have time to react—nor to recover. I feel Chris hold me tightly, flipping me over so my back hits the seat—his cock brutal as he drills himself inside of me. 

“Take it, fuckin—fuckin’ take it,” he chants. 

My hands scramble into his hair. I pull his face into my neck, letting my teeth sink into his shoulder. Every rut of his hips leaves me breathless, my body seizing as I feel his hardness drive into me over and over again while his pelvis slaps against my clit. 

“I’m gonn—”

“Wait. Wait for me, I’m—’m so close, baby, so fuckin’ close—”

I clench around him, the buildup becoming too much as he continues to drown every inch of my body with pleasure. His desperate tone lingers in the air, his breaths shaking as his hips lose slight momentum. 

“Wher–-where do you—”

“In-inside, please, just—just let me cum,” I plea. 

Chris huffs, his thrusts becoming erratic and somehow deeper. “Cu-cum with me, I—shittttttttt, so fuckin’ good, so… so fuckin’ good,” he seethes, a warm sensation flooding inside of me as I feel my body convulse once more. 

My limbs fall lifelessly. Our motions fall lazier, eventually pausing to a halt. Chris gently removes himself, pulling me into his arms tightly and positioning back into the seat with me on his lap. 

His hand finds the back of my head as I lean onto his shoulder, petting through my hair as we both try to catch our breath. 

“Holy shit,” he whispers. I let out a light laugh, flinching as I feel my stomach burn from soreness. “You good there?” he asks. 

Nodding into the crook of his neck, I lift myself to stare at him once more. My eyes trace from his sweat ridden face, seeing a clear imprint of his hand on the fogged-up car window. My nose crinkles as I inhale deeply. “It smells like sex, I’m sorry,” I let out. 

Chris stares at me incredulously. “Sorry? That was fuckin’ perfect—better than the money if you ask me. I mean… I don’t know if I’ll be able to keep my hands to myself anymore,” he teases, flashing me a grin as he combs my hair behind my ear. 

My lips curl with excitement. “Oh really? You like takin’ me for rides?” 

He nods firmly, biting on his lower lip. “Mhm. And you seemed to really like ridin’.” 

I let out a light laugh, shrugging my shoulders before ruffling his hair playfully. “Only with you.”

Chris cocks an eyebrow at me, “Only me, huh?” I nod shyly, letting out a brief hum. His eyes linger on mine before falling back to my lips. “You do ride good. Maybe you should be the racer,” he taunts. 

“Maybe,” I whisper, “-maybe…” 

“Let’s get you back in those cute jeans though, yeah?” 

[nymphaura777]

Procrastinating? Read this.

So, you wanna manifest your dream life but keep putting it off?

Let’s be real. You say you’re gonna affirm, visualize, and persist, but then suddenly, scrolling through reels, watching a whole-ass Netflix series, or overanalyzing the 3D becomes your full-time job. And then? You freak out because nothing is changing. Sound familiar? Yeah, thought so.

Why do you even procrastinate on something you want?

Your brain is lowkey trippin’. It craves instant dopamine, and let’s be honest—staring at your ceiling, imagining your dream life while reality looks the same ain’t always fun. Your mind wants proof, results, and fireworks ASAP, but that’s not how this game works. You gotta train your brain like a puppy—consistency, belief, and a whole lotta "sit down and shut up" energy.

"I’ll start tomorrow" is the biggest scam ever

Tell me why you think tomorrow will magically make you more disciplined? Spoiler alert: It won’t. Tomorrow turns into next week, next month, and suddenly it’s 2026 and you’re still waiting for "the right moment." That moment? It’s now. Get up. Start affirming. Step into the version of you that already has it.

The 3D is playing with your head, but you gotta play it back

I know, I know—the 3D is looking mad disrespectful. Your SP is acting like you don’t exist, your bank account is laughing at you, and your dream life feels like a fever dream. But guess what? The 3D is just old news, and if you keep reacting, you’re just keeping the same boring storyline alive. Ignore it. You’re the director here.

How to actually stop procrastinating & start manifesting

Set a deadline for your doubts: Give yourself 10 minutes to freak out, then move TF on cause we ain't gonna suppress our emotions.

Romanticize your manifestation: Act like you’re the main character and your dream life is unfolding.

Affirm like it’s your job: No days off. No breaks. This is your reality, claim it.

Stop playing victim: You are literally the creator of your life. Act like it.

Make it a habit: Turn manifesting into muscle memory. If you can scroll IG for hours, you can repeat affirmations.

Drop the obsession: Desperate energy repels. Relax. Breathe. Your desire is already yours.

You either keep waiting, or you wake up and take control

The truth is, your dream life is waiting on YOU. Not the universe, not some random timeline, not "divine timing"—just YOU deciding to stop playing and actually persist. So, what’s it gonna be? Are you gonna keep making excuses, or are you finally gonna step into your power?

You already know what to do. Now go do it.

[hungharrington]

show-time

request: i cannot stop thinking about asking steve if he ever got himself off to you before you got together. he’d be so blushy and sheepish about it but man it’d be fun to watch him squirm 🤤

2.1k words, established relationship, masturbation (steve), gn!reader, MDNI this entire blog is 18+

It’s a universally awkward experience to have a sex-scene come on in a movie. Unless one’s watching it alone, of course.

You are not. Cuddled in behind you, cushioning you against his chest, Steve lounges, his eyes fixed on the screen.

Sure, in terms of awkwardness-rankings, watching this with your boyfriend who you also have sex with isn’t as bad as, like, watching with parents.

But still. You kinda can’t tell if you should be watching or averting your eyes — and you don’t want to peek over your shoulder to figure out what Steve’s doing.

The man in the film grunts, his hand in his pants jerking furiously, his eyes fixed on a polaroid of the film’s love interest.

You squint—surely this is stretching the truth a bit?

Yeah, yeah, guys jerk off, you know that - this isn’t your first day on earth.

You just didn’t think it would be like, romantic style. People in movies kiss in the rain and run through airports, so they’re hardly known for being grounded in reality.

The man in the film groans lewdly and you feel Steve shift slightly behind you, his fingers looped around your middle twitching.

Did he-? When you-? You suppose you’ve never really thought about it.

You’re asking before you can second guess yourself.

“Did you do this?”

Steve’s attention switches idly from the screen to you as you crane your neck to look back at him. His brows pinch together.

“Did I do what?” He asks, doting brown eyes searching your face.

You fluster a bit. This is certainly moving you up through the awkwardness rankings. But now it’s in your head —now you’ve said it — you can’t turn back.

The thought of it blazes hotly through your mind.

Steve, all those months ago, still just crushing on you, but never quite making a move. He’d told you, whispered his secret, when you’d finally gotten the nerve to ask him to be your boyfriend officially, that he’d been sweet on you far longer than you knew.

But the image of it is what has you interested. You imagine Steve, his fist stuffed into his tight jeans, working himself over and biting his fist to hide his moans, at the mere thought of you.

You’d had plenty of long, late night conversations on the phone before officially getting together.

The thought of if he’d ever touched himself while you talked, none the wiser on the other end, wanders into your mind — and your stomach clenches hotly at the thought.

Clearing your throat, you tip your head towards the screen.

“Like, before we got together?”

It takes Steve another glance at the screen to realise what you’re asking. A simmering, pink colour crawls up his neck and in a moment, you go from feeling awkward to feeling downright devious.

Steve clears his throat, his eyes darting rapidly back and forth from the screen to your face. “Uh, I- I mean, why do you ask?”

A coy smile curls at your mouth. “I wanna know how accurate it is.”

Steve stares down at you, the pink now creeping up his cheeks and to the tips of his ears. God, he looks delectable like this.

Is this how he looked when he did it too? Blushy and embarrassed to commit such a filthy act thinking of someone that wasn’t his? A hot buzz drizzles through your core, fringed with endearment.

Steve licks his lips nervously. His hands on your stomach stiffen and then relax. The film plays on in the background. His expression shifts towards something sheepish.

“It’s — I, uh, well, yes.” He stammers. “It’s accurate, yes.”

“How many times?”

Steve’s eyes narrow, but his face gets redder. “What is this, an interrogation now?”

You giggle, drinking in his evidently embarrassed state. The confirmation of him doing it solidifies the perfect image of him in your mind, your own film-scene imagining Steve in the same position as the character on screen. In real life, Steve moves his hand to tug at the collar of his shirt.

“I’m just… enjoying the idea of it.” You muse.

“Uh huh,” Steve says, tongue jammed into the side of his cheek. “Not just—” He fumbles for his words. “Just enjoying seeing me, I don’t know, like—”

His words trail off and his head tips back with a groan, exposing the delicious expanse of his throat. It begs you for kisses and love bites. He moves both hands up to cover his face.

You wait til he pulls them away to nod. “Absolutely, baby. Watching you squirm is far more interesting than this film.”

In the background, the man on screen gives a pornographic shout as he finishes in his pants. Steve manages to turn redder, even if he keeps his eyes fixed on you.

“But I’m just,” You huff and pout. “Put out, I guess. You did all that for me and I didn’t even get to see it.”

At the exact same time, you watch as Steve’s pupils dilate, blowing out in obvious lust, and something pressed against your back thickens up.

Steve, to his credit, only makes one strained noise which he immediately smothers with a cough. You feel his hips twitch beneath you and make a quick decision, confidence built on the sweltering heat of Steve’s face.

You push forward and up, then quickly turn, slotting your knees across either side of Steve’s thighs, perching atop them nicely.

You’re not outright in his lap—there’s room between the two of you for what you hope will happen.

It takes Steve another long moment to catch your drift.

“Wait, you want-?” He inhales sharply. You can see the twitch of his cock through his loose sweatpants. “To see?”

“To watch,” You clarify, smiling almost mischievously. “Yeah.”

Then just to check, “Is that okay?”

Steve’s breath shudders out of him but he’s nodding before the question is completely out of your mouth.

“H-Here?” He checks. You nod, resting your hands atop your thighs to show you don’t plan on using them. Steve’s hungry eyes scan you up and down, the tent in his pants pitching up in arousal.

“Just show me how you did it,” You murmur, words on the side of sultry. Your own excitement, that faint thrum of pleasure, has already started to pool low in your gut.

“Yeah, but I normally don’t have an audience for it,” Steve mumbles, his left-hand reaching for the drawstrings of his sweats.

They come undone with a simple tug. Steve stretches the elastic out a bit and then slips his hand in.

You know the moment his large hand settles around his cock from the flutter of his lashes, the soft groan that curls out his throat, rough and sweet all at once.

This… This is new. You usually don’t get such a focused look at Steve’s pleasure, at the little shifts in his expression, too wrapped up in your own pleasure to pay proper attention. Getting this much detail sends a delicious throb between your thighs. You hardly want to blink.

Steve’s hand moves slow to begin with, slow, gentle strokes to get himself properly warmed up.

After a moment, he draws his hand back and some part of you worries he’s too weirded out now. But he only brings it up, to his mouth, and you realise what he’s doing.

Quickly stealing his hand, Steve’s eyes widen as you let spit drop from your lips and pool in his palm. Another soft, jagged noise drags from his throat.

“Jesus Christ,” He murmurs, more to himself. “This is not what it’s like when it’s just me, this is, like, ten fucking times hotter.”

His hand sneaks back into his sweatpants but this time when he grips his cock, the reaction this time is immediate.

Steve moans, louder this time, his eyes crushing closed and his hand starts moving faster. With the help of your spit, it doesn’t take long before you can hear it, the slick sounds of him fucking his cock desperately.

His head tips back against the couch and a piece of hair flops over, into his eyes.

You reach out and brush it to the side and Steve’s eyes crease open at the same time a whine threads through his moans.

“Fuck,” He grunts. He sinks in teeth into his bottom lip, his eyes desperately roaming your face. “Fuck, baby, you’re so pretty.”

“That what you thought bout?”

You’re impressed with yourself for the cool, calm demeanour you’re portraying. Steve nods, the motion a little wild, his hand still making those lewd, wet noises.

“Uh huh,” His voice shakes a little. “Just, fuck, dunno, like, your face and-uh-what y-you’d sound like.”

Your eyes glitter with interest, ego raring at the devotion your boyfriend is spilling out.

“What I’d sound like?”

“Y-Yeah,” Steve stammers, his breathing heavy. “Like, doing this.”

Now that’s a picture; Steve jerking off to the thought of you, hot and bothered with your hand between your thighs. You give a breathy gasp without meaning to.

Steve hears it, groaning louder as he quickens his pace. You sort of want to reach forward and ruck up his shirt, so you can see the glorious clench of his stomach as he rolls his hips up into his warm hand.

“Can I see more?” You ask tentatively. “Please?”

This time, it’s more like a whimper that creeps out of Steve’s throat.

“Oh my god,” Steve mumbles through a stilted moan. “Jesus Christ. Yeah, yeah, of course.”

He swallows heavily, his free hand reaching down to push at his waistband. You help, lifting up to help tug the fabric out of the way.

Obstructions removed, your mouth salivates. Steve’s cock is pretty — and it looks that much more enticing when it’s worked up, pink and the tip of it leaking all over his hand.

Steve’s a fucking vision. His head still lolled back, his adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows. His throat, dotted with moles, crawling with pinkness. His big, veiny hand wrapped around his cock, pumping it steadily.

You think about how much you’d like the lick the trail of hair on his tummy, down, down, down.

“You seem close,” You say and it earns you a reedy whimper in response. “Is it- does it normally happen this fast?”

“Are you kidding me?” Steve whispers back. His eyes are closed and after a moment, you realise he’s trying to keep himself from cumming too quickly, even as his hand doesn’t slow. “I—ngh— n-normally don’t have such good, ah, material. My imagination is— is not this good.”

You’re equal parts flattered and flustered, heat twinging in your gut.

“Can— can I?” Steve whimpers out suddenly.

The question nearly throws you. You almost say Can you what? when the meaning of it douses you in fire.

He’s asking permission.

Oh, that does something to you.

“Yeah, Stevie,” You say, voice lilting closer to a coo. “I wanna see it, please.”

Something shifts in his motions, changing gear as Steve’s hand suddenly starts moving in smaller, tighter strokes, just over the head of his cock. His head tucks forward, his eyes scrunched closed, and he’s whimpers out, “thank you, thank you, thank you.”

It only takes a few seconds, the whine in Steve’s voice pitching higher and higher, until something gives.

His hips take over, something desperate and primal shoving them up, his thrusts rapid and frantic. His hand doesn’t stop moving, not even as his cock starts to leak out ropes of cum, shooting out enough to cover the back of his knuckles. It joins your spit to rub slick against his cock.

He keens pitifully. For one long minute, you listen to Steve’s breathy whines get softer and softer, watch his desperate thrusts abate til an overstimulated shiver wracks through his body. Then, and only then, does he collapse back, sinking into the couch.

He’s a bit ruined, truthfully.

And you’ve soaked through your panties.

“You’re welcome,” You croak, throat dry. His hair is back in his eyes and lean forward, tenderly brushing it out of the way. You leave your hand there, cupping the side of his face, and Steve leans into it, still panting.

“What?” He asks.

“You were thanking me,” You point out cheekily.

Steve’s face plunges back to that scarlet colour you’re beginning to adore most ardently. He turns his face further to hide away in the palm of your hands.

“Shut up,” He mumbles.

“So you don’t wanna do that again?” You tease.

Steve pulls back and eyes you. “Now, hang on, I didn’t say that…”

[theemporium]

a luke blurb where him and his gf don't show much pda but quin and jack accidentally walk in on them making out? i feel like it would be really funny

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

.

You and Luke were never big on PDA. 

It wasn’t a conscious choice either of you really made. Truth being told, you never really noticed how ‘un-coupley’ the two of you acted until a friend had pointed it out to you somewhere in the first few weeks of college when they were shocked to learn that you and Luke were a couple. 

But it never bothered you. It wasn’t a big surprise considering the evolution of your relationship with Luke was something that changed gradually over time. You had been attached by the hip since day one, each other’s best friend for as long as anyone could remember. You were always together, always found together, would always be together. There was no one in this world that you would consider your bestest friend over Luke Hughes.

It just so happened that somewhere between the years of high school, that friendship evolved into something a little less platonic. But he was still your best friend. He would always be your best friend before he was your boyfriend. Neither of you acted differently after you got together because nothing in the relationship had really changed after the two of you confessed that night, except for the fact you just happened to make out with him as much as you laughed at the stupid jokes he told.

So even though you and Luke had been together as a couple for the better part of six years, you never really acted like one in front of people. 

Which is why Jack and Quinn tended to be so dramatic whenever the two of you did anything remotely coupley. 

“Did you put sunscreen on today?” 

Luke paused, pulling back and slowly blinking his eyes open to look at you with an incredulous look. “Why the hell are you thinking about sunscreen whilst making out with me?” 

“Because your skin feels really warm,” you retorted, unbothered by the way his lip jutted out with a small pout as you poked the reddening skin on his shoulder. The hiss he let out instantly made you snort. “Fucking knew it.”

“You were hogging the bottle,” Luke retorted, smacking your hand away when you tried to poke him again before it returned to its rightful place on your ass. 

“No, you were more focused on putting sunscreen on me to remember yourself,” you corrected with a smile.

“Yeah, well, you whine so much when you’re sunburnt,” Luke huffed, laughing a little when you lightly smacked his chest. “Kidding, babe, love you.” 

“Whatever,” you muttered as you leaned down, pressing your lips against his and letting out a content noise as he squeezed your ass, pulling you further onto his lap before he pushed his tongue into your mouth and—

“OH MY GOD, MY EYES! MY FUCKING EYES!” 

Luke let out a heavy sigh, his head falling against your shoulder as he grumbled under his breath. “Every fucking time.” 

“Gross, guys,” Quinn frowned at the sight of you two on the sunlounger whilst Jack dramatically continued to gag behind him. “So gross.” 

“What happened to the two of you doing a grocery run in the town?” You questioned, making no move to shift off your boyfriend’s lap, though his hands moved to rest on your waist now. 

“We did it and came back already to find you—” Jack paused, placing a hand on his chest as he shuddered. “Defiling the furniture.” 

“Drama queen,” Luke grumbled.

You snorted. “As if you didn’t do much worse three summers ago when I saw you and that girl on the boat—” 

Jack’s eyes widened. “LALALA! SHE DOESN’T KNOW WHAT SHE IS TALKING ABOUT!” 

Quinn whirled around to look at him with narrowed eyes. “What the fuck did you do on the boat?” 

Luke grinned, turning to look at you as his brothers continued to bicker in the background. “It’s kinda hot when you blackmail people.” 

You grinned back. “Yeah?” 

“Mhm.” 

You tucked your bottom lip between your teeth. “Wanna show me how hot? Preferably in a room with a lock so we don’t have to repeat of the other day.” 

Luke scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Quinn should learn to knock. That is not our fault.”

.

[tojisteddy]

Sweet Ride | smut, 18+ MDNI, 1.2k words, softdom!Toji x sweetheart!reader

You’d been 3 months into your relationship when Toji Fushiguro finally realized that you, for some odd reason, loved letting idiots fuck you.

It must’ve been where that very minuscule masochism kink came from. Had to be.

He’d noticed the way you’d get shocked when he went to pay for— well- everything. Didn’t matter if he lost a shit ton from gambling and losing that day, didn’t matter if you went over your own set budget, didn’t matter that you didn’t ask because you didn’t want to look money hungry or if you quickly pulled out your card and paid. He’s sending $300 to you to make up for it. The man. Was going. To pay.

Toji also noticed the way you’d shy away when you realized he was actually listening to the words that came out of your mouth. Informing you that he hated that coworker of Sherl just a little bit more than you did. Plainly telling you ‘no’, he didn’t just want to see just your hair bone straight- he wanted to see your curly hair that framed your face (when you wanted to of course) and that he thought you would look good with any hair color not just the jet black. Or when you only went to make food that he liked,

“But this is what my ex-“

“—Mama, what do you really wanna eat? Tell me or we’ll both starve tonight.”

Truthfully, it irritated the fuck out of the man.

He didn’t get it, how someone so precious got treated like shit on multiple occasions. He kept reminding himself that you weren’t the problem, those fucking dick wads were.

But the irritation jumped back out when you rode him. He knew after that first time (just a week ago) that those fucking idiots didn’t know what the fuck to do with you. He’d cock his eyebrow up at you because he simply couldn’t hide the vexation of it all.

“You don’t like it Toj?” Your voice was hoarse, curls falling over your face, a pout forming.

It was clear the way you moved your hips back and forth, held yourself and didn’t use him for leverage, you rode your ex’s to get them off and nothing more.

More sins against God.

There had to be a scripture about it somewhere, “Never let thou spouse ride-ith you in cowgirl without her cumming.” Or something— the man didn’t know. He knew for a fact, only a bitch would never let a woman cum while she’s riding him.

“Toji? ‘M sorry, it must not be good.” You let out a shaky breath, trying to relax, not be too touchy. “ ‘S just harder cause you’re so… so big. ‘Nd I- fuck- mmm- don’t think I’ve ever had time to relax like this. I must be takin too long.”

Shit, you frowned, big brown puppy eyes looking down at the green eyed monster and his heart ached. He nuzzled his head in the crook of your neck, his poor pretty baby. Sweet doll, don’t you worry your little head. Your Toji would fix this little problem tonight.

And when you two were done, he’d beat the fucking breaks out of each and every single one your exes.

It would cleanse the soul.

“ ‘S okay baby, yer doin good. Need you to relax f’me. Want you to take a little bit more though, hm? You can take it, right? You’re a good girl.”

You bit your lip, nodding in agreement.

Such a good girl. Toji’s sweet ‘nd good girl.

Tojis hands pulled you closer. “How do I get ya to relax then? Can you tell me?” You felt your cheeks heat up, shaking your head and attempting to hide yourself in his neck. But Toji kept you still, playfully bumping your foreheads together with a chuckle.

“Let’s find out then,” His hands wandered, up and down your sides, then one staying at the small of your back, the other making its way to your pretty tit in his hand. Slowly massaging it in his palm. “Maybe you like it here?”

You whimpered in his mouth and Tojis scar moved upward in amusement, green eyes low. He left a trail of kiss from your cute cheeks, down to your jaw. “Or here?” Down to your neck, taking a few nibblies here and there. “Or here?”

You let out a soft moan, finally nodding your head.

“Words, mama.” He was stern but you felt the grin against your neck.

“T-there feels— feels so nice Toj.” The man hummed at your words, being sure to praise you with an array of kisses and hickeys for the world to see tomorrow on your neck.

“I-I can move now?” You asked. You felt so full with what he was giving you, but you felt so good with every little kiss the aching tip and veins of his member gave to your walls.

“Course doll.” He enterwinted your fingers, “Gotta take it nice ‘nd slow baby, don’t gotta go fast.”

You gulped, gradually lifting yourself up and down and rocking your hips back and forth, then repeating the motion. Your hands left his large ones, starting to use his shoulders as leverage, “There you go ma, there you fuckin go.”

He hissed, you were a god damn waterfall down there. Toji didn’t even know how the fuck you were still managing to keep him insider everytime you’d move up so just the tip was in, and slamming back down. When you tried to go faster a large calloused hand came down to your ass.

“B-but Tojiii,” you whined, slowly swiveling your hips one time to get a curse out of him. “Wanna make you feel good too.”

“ ‘Nd I ‘ppreciate Doll, I do. You feel so fuckin good too ma, but it’s not about me tonight, ‘s about you. Need you to really feel it deep in your pretty pussy.” He gave you a few thrusts, matching your rhythm creating the most beautiful smack smack smack your bedroom has ever heard.

“Take what you need babygirl.”

Toji had a way with words, he’d gotten a pornographic moan from it alone. Your nails dug into his shoulders, the meat of your thighs jiggling every time you came down. Slick drenching Toji’s cock, your thighs were burning but you kept moving. Chasing your high with every bounce on his fat fuck.

“Goooood girl, now you got it doll.”

“I can— I can take more Toji.” You stammered out.

“I’d loooove that sweetheart— shit ma- but not tonight. Ngh— This is just enough.”

“But—“

“-Aht,” he grumbled, helping you move your hips as you got just a tad too slow for his liking, “don’t bite more than you can chew. Come on, you can make yourself and your boyfriend cum, can’t you?”

He didn’t have to tell you twice, you were grinding and slamming yourself down what you could take as hard as ever getting a loud from Toji. You were such a good and fast leaner, the man would have to keep you. Train you to do other things, soon enough you’d be able to take all of him. You were fucking pulsing like a over worked heartbeat around him as a wave of emotions smacked you over the head, a string of fuck fuck fuck and Toji Toji Toji leaving your mouth.

The man growled, giving your ass a few harsh smacks as he rapidly thrust into you. You never knew when you were cumming so you never vocalized it.

You’d work on that too.

Quickly pulling out, spurts of his cum hit your stomach. You both were panting messes, Toji’s pink lips meeting your temple, then your soft full lips.

“Good fuckin job, mama.”

a/n: ride the dragon by fka twigs

most recent masterlist

[dulcescorderitas]

"fuckin’ finally," dean mutters as he tears the box open at the kitchen table, the packaging crinkling under his rough fingers. your ears twitch at the sound, heart thudding as he pulls out exactly what he’d ordered—a soft, fluffy white bunny tail attached to a sleek black plug. he turns it in his palm, weighing it like it’s a prize.

sam, sitting across from him, leans in with a smirk. "didn't think it'd actually show up. figured bobby’s mail would eat it."

"please," dean scoffs, tossing the empty box aside. "you think i’d let something this important get lost?"

your stomach flips. your thighs press together under the oversized sweatshirt you’re wearing, but there’s no hiding the way your stomach flutters in anxious anticipation. you knew they were up to something. you’d caught dean scrolling through pages of...things on his laptop, and caught the glint in his eye when he’d elbowed sam and murmured something about how bunny deserved a little upgrade.

you just hadn’t expected this.

"whatcha think, sweetheart?" dean holds up the plug, the fluffy white tail twitching as he flicks it with a finger. "real cute, huh? bet it’ll look even cuter stuffed in that pretty little hole of yours."

your ears burn, hands curling into fists. "you—" you swallow hard, voice a breathy whimper. "you bought that for me?"

sam exhales through his nose, amused. "who else would it be for?"

dean grins, tilting his head. "c’mon, bun. don’t tell me you don’t wanna try it."

he pats his thigh, gesturing for you to come closer, and when you hesitate, sam lets out a low chuckle. "you trust us, don’t you?"

your breath catches. that’s not fair. they know you do.

slowly, cautiously, you step forward, standing between dean’s legs as he tugs you down into his lap. you feel the heat of him through his jeans, and the feeling of his handstracing the backs of your thighs, slow and teasing.

"attagirl," he murmurs, pressing a kiss just below your ear. "let’s get you all pretty, huh?"

you’re spread out on bobby’s couch, knees tucked beneath you, face burning against the cushions. the sweatshirt’s long gone—dean had stripped it off, left you in nothing but your soft little panties, which sam had peeled down your thighs with meticulous care.

now, you’re bare, exposed, your folds already glistening between your legs, though they haven’t even touched you there yet.

"look at her," dean muses, thumb running over the dip of your spine. "fuckin’ made for this, ain’t cha, bun?"

sam hums in agreement, kneeling behind you, big hands spreading you open. you whimper when you feel the press of his fingers, one circling your rim, teasing.

"relax," he says, voice low, steady, the way it always is when he’s coaxing you into something new. "gonna make it feel real good, i promise."

you bite your lip, nodding into the couch.

his fingers are slick—he must’ve grabbed lube when you weren’t looking, because when he presses the first one in, it slides easy, slow. still, the stretch makes you whimper, body tensing before you force yourself to breathe.

"shhh, good girl," sam soothes, rubbing small circles into your hip. "you're doin' so good."

dean’s crouched in front of you now, a polaroid camera in his hands. you hear the click, the soft whirr as a photo prints. "damn," he breathes. "sammy, look at her. you ever seen anything this cute?"

sam chuckles, sliding a second finger in beside the first, scissoring them carefully. "never," he murmurs. "she's perfect."

you whine, hips twitching, pleasure sparking deep in your belly.

dean grins. "gonna be even better when we get this tail in her."

sam's fingers slip out, leaving you empty just long enough to make you whimper before something very cold presses against you. you whine, shifting slightly, but dean's hand is suddenly in your hair, tugging gently, grounding you.

"easy, sweetheart," he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your temple. "let sammy do his thing."

sam's free hand strokes over your trembling thighs as he pushes the plug in, slow, deliberate. the stretch is more than his fingers, fuller, and you gasp, back arching as the toy sinks deeper, deeper—

and then it’s snug, seated perfectly, the fluffy white tail bobbing with each tiny twitch of your hips.

dean whistles low. "well, fuck."

sam rubs soothing circles over your lower back, his touch warm. "how’s it feel, bunny?"

you shudder, panting into the couch. "f-feels full," you admit, voice barely above a whisper.

dean smirks, lifting the polaroid camera again, framing the way the tail looks nestled between your cheeks. "real full," he agrees.

the camera clicks. another photo prints.

sam’s thumb drags down your spine, his voice thick with something you know means trouble. "think she can take more?"

dean chuckles, flipping through the photos, admiring their little collection.

"oh, i know she can."

tags: @soldiersgirl @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing @legalmente-loca @bluemerakis @whisperingdaze @cherrygirlfriend @figthoughts @sunsbaby @ambiguous-avery @bocadelinfierno @sunnyteume

notes: last post for today! i have another !reader, hopefully,coming on sunday🤞🏾

[grunklebongrip]

Every time someone uwu-ifies Fiddleford, I find a new way for him to cheat on his wife

[pinkslipxox]

In Your Arms:

Summary: Billie comes home the studio frustrated

Warnings: fluff 🙈🥰

——————————————————————————

The living room is draped in a soft glow, the sun setting just outside the window, casting a golden hue over the stark white walls. You hum to yourself as you wipe off the remaining dust from the coffee table, your heart fluttering in anticipation for Billie’s impending return from the studio, the most eagerly awaited and cherished moment of your day. A warmth blooms within your chest at the thought of her arms wrapped around you, the sound of her melodic voice, her comforting scent— you couldn’t think of anything better to look forward to.

Just then, the front door bursts open, and in strides Billie, your sweet and loving girlfriend. Her expression is a whirlwind of frustration. You can almost feel the tension emanating from her as she kicks off her sneakers, her brows knitted together in a frown that would intimidate anyone else.

"Fuck!" she mutters, her voice laced with irritation, tossing her bag onto the nearby chair. Her frustrated expression softens only slightly when you looks at you for a brief second before she heads to the bedroom without another word.

Your heart aches at the sight of your Billie so tense. She’s been working harder recently, more than you’ve ever seen her do so, and you can only imagine how the day has been for her. You know how much she pours her heart and soul into her music, but sometimes the industry can be a nasty place, choking the fire in her.

Slowly, you open the door, and you’re greeting by the sight of Billie sat at the edge of the bed with her face buried in her hands. You can see the weight of the world on her shoulders, and your heart aches for her. Billie looks up, her ocean blue eyes filled with unshed tears, and she outstretches her arm out to you, a silent plea for your presence. You immediately go to her and sit down next to her.

“What happened, Billie?” you ask softly, wanting nothing more than to comfort the love of your life.

“It was a rough day,” Billie starts after a moment of silence, followed by a deep breath. “The deadlines… the lyrics… and Finneas, oh my God…” She slowly shakes her head, muttering something under her breathe before she continues, “It’s hard, Y/N, and it feels like I can’t catch a break.”

“Let’s take a bath together,” you suggest gently, offering a smile that you hope will reassure her. “It’ll help you relax.”

At your words, Billie’s expression softens slightly as she nods, a hint of gratitude breaking through her irritation.

“Alright, doll,” she whispers, her voice lower, almost vulnerable. You lead her to the bathroom, flicking on the warm water. The sensation of steam curling around you envelops both of you, soothing in its embrace.

Once the tub is filled with bubbles, you go to the kitchen and return with two glasses of wine, handing one to Billie before you both slip in. You position yourself behind Billie, your fingers instantly finding the tense muscles in her shoulders. Gently, you begin slowly to massage her skin.

“Just breathe, Bills. You’re always strong for everyone else; let me be strong for you,” you whisper, placing soft kisses along Billie’s neck.

Billie hums in pleasure. “Mmm, thats it, mama,” she sighs, leaning back into your embrace. You feel her relax against you, much to your own relief, and you can’t help the smile that spreads on your lips.

“It’s just, like, I wanna create, you know? But I feel like I’m constantly fighting,” Billie continues, and you can hear the vulnerability sneaking back in. You nod, letting her vent, tracing your fingers over her skin, reveling in the touch and warmth.

“I know, Billie. Just remember, you don’t have to fight all the time. I’m here to support you.” A soft smile breaks across your lips as you lean in, planting a tender kiss on her cheek.

Billie turns her head, kissing your lips gently, and you feel the love and the appreciation she has for you in the sweet gesture. Everything will be okay, even if it didn’t seem like it now. But here, together, the world and its troubles seem to fade away, leaving the two of you in the comfort of each other’s presence.

“You’re my comfort, pretty girl,” Billie murmurs, her voice dropping to a husky whisper. “Thank you for always being here.”

“Always, Billie, always,” you reply softly and pull her further into your embrace, right where she belongs.

[azzibuckets]

sweet [part 6]

a/n: sorry for the delay..i kept this in my drafts hoping i’d get inspiration for something more creative but it never came so i waited like a month for nothing 😔

main masterlist | sweet masterlist

Paige really is trying to be happy.

But it’s incredibly fucking difficult to do when Azzi is laughing in somebody’s arms that’s not hers.

“Chill, P,” KK’s voice pipes up from beside her. “I think everyone in this room can feel how hard you’re staring at her.”

Paige doesn’t say anything, scoffing as she forces herself to turn around. She’s felt jealous before - but nothing like this, where her stomach is turning and she feels physically sick. “You need to get laid.” KK suggests, poking her arm. “Flirt with some pretty girls. Make her jealous.”

“Nah, bro.” Paige rubs her temples. Sleep doesn’t come easy these days, and her body never seems to feel 100% with all the conditioning and the intensity of their practices. Frankly, she’s physically and mentally exhausted, and the little energy she has left isn’t nowhere close to enough to deal with all this. “I’m done. I don’t wanna keep doing this back and forth shit.”

“So you’re gonna give up?” KK asks incredulously, eyes widening.

“She’s the one who gave up on us before we even started.” Paige toes the ground. “It doesn’t even fucking matter anymore. I told her how I felt and she doesn’t want to date me.” Her jaw tightens. “I just don’t get how she can forgive Micaela so easily and not me.”

“I don’t think it’s about forgiveness, Paige,” KK says slowly, her demeanor serious. “I think she’s scared, and rightfully so.”

“I know she is,” the blonde groans. “But goddamn, isn’t it worth it? I think about her and I get fucking giddy thinking about being able to take her on dates and shit.”

KK falls silent, worry pooling in her eyes for the girl that’s been like an older sister to her. She’s not used to this, being the one to give Paige advice. “You keep saying you’re okay,” she says finally. “But you don’t have to be.”

“I’m not,” Paige admits. “But I will be.”

•••

Paige curses, kicking at the chair before flopping down on it. Jana and Ice exchange looks behind her back as she aggressively grabs a Gatorade bottle and squirts water into her mouth.

“None of my shots are fucking falling,” she rants, eyes quickly tracking the movement on the court. “How many turnovers have I had?” she asks, turning to one of the team managers on the bench.

The manager checks her iPad, looking back up at Paige sympathetically. “Four.”

“Fuck.” Paige slams the Gatorade bottle down on her thigh. “I don’t know what’s fucking wrong with me.”

The team is up by twenty five points, and Paige doesn’t see the court for the rest of the game. As soon as the buzzer sounds, she’s out of her seat, rushing through the handshake line to go to the locker room. She knows Geno likes giving the fourth quarter to the bench to help them get more experience, but she can’t help but be annoyed that she hadn’t been allowed to go back in and redeem herself against a shitty team that couldn’t even shoot. She’d turned the ball more over than had assists, for fuck’s sake.

“Paige, you coming?” The team is huddled around the door, on their way out for team dinner.

Paige is still next to her locker, head bowed down as she rummages through her duffel. “You guys go ahead,” she responds. “I think I’m done for the night.”

She hears her teammates hesitate, murmuring softly to each other before they decide to leave her be. As she hears the last of the footsteps, she turns around to make her own exit, making eye contact with big brown eyes as Azzi happens to look back at the same time.

Stay. Her eyes communicate everything she’s not brave enough to say out loud. Stay with me, she begs. I don’t want to be alone.

And Azzi, her best friend, who’s always been able to read Paige’s mind, who knows what Paige is feeling before she herself can ever put a name on it, who’s always there before Paige even has to ask, hesitates, her steps faltering, eyes rounding. But then her eyebrows dip, as if she’s remembering their last conversation, the hurt they’d made each other feel.

Azzi bites her bottom lip and turns back around, pace quickening to catch up with the rest of the team.

Paige slams her locker shut.

She was a fool for ever believing Azzi would still care about her after everything she’d done.

•••

“Don’t beat yourself up, Paige,” her dad says. His voice is distorted over the speaker, but still comforting from thousands of miles away. “What would you say if one of your teammates had an off performance like this? You need to learn to give yourself grace too.”

“I know, I just-” Paige looks up at the ceiling, studying the ugly floral patterns glaring back down at her. “I just can’t help but feel like I’m letting them down.” She pulls the blanket tighter over herself. “I’m supposed to be their voice on the court, and today I was doing jack shit.”

“That’s what makes you a good leader. Recognizing the mistakes you’ve made, moving on from them and becoming better after.”

Paige sighs. She appreciates her dad’s efforts to comfort her, but right now nice words are doing nothing to alleviate the hollowness in her heart.

“This isn’t helping, is it?” her dad, ever so honest, realizes.

Paige winces. “Not really. But I appreciate it.”

He chuckles softly. “I could tell. Azzi was the only one who could get through to you when you were like this back in high school. Where is she?”

“She’s, uh, out right now. With the team.” Paige doesn’t have the heart to tell him that they haven’t talked much at all in the last month. Her dad has always had a soft spot for Azzi, their more shy and introverted personalities making them get along.

“Well, when she comes back, have a talk with her, okay? I don’t want you sitting alone with your feelings. It’s not good for you.”

Paige swallows hard. “I will,” she lies. The mere mention of Azzi only intensifies the headache she’s already having. “Listen, I’m pretty tired, so I’m prolly gonna crash now.”

“Yeah, get some rest.” Her dad pauses. “I love you, Paige. Don’t forget that.”

“I know. Love you too.”

The call disconnects, and sitting in her bed in the dark room, the whirring air conditioning the only sound in the room besides her heavy breathing, Paige misses home more than ever. She misses her parents, and Drew. She misses being with people she hasn’t hurt over and over again with stupid mistakes.

“Paige?”

Paige looks up, startled. She hadn’t heard anyone come in, and she’s more confused to see Azzi standing there uncertainly, shifting from foot to foot, cheeks pretty and rosy from the cold outside.

“Az? How’d you get in?”

“Aubrey gave me the key card.” Azzi drops said key card on the table. “Everyone’s really worried, you know.”

“Yeah, yeah, cut the crap.” Paige buries her face back into the pillows, not wanting another lecture on how bad she played. “I’m sorry I fucking blew it.”

“Paige.” Azzi’s tone is soft, and Paige realizes just now how much she’s missed the way her name sounds coming from Azzi’s mouth. “They’re not worried about the way you played. They’re worried about how you reacted to it. They’re worried about you.”

The younger girl sits down tentatively at the edge of the bed. “You always take care of the team,” she says quietly. “But you don’t have to carry the weight of that alone. Sometimes you need to put yourself first.”

Paige almost throws herself into Azzi’s arms, catching the dark haired girl off guard for a moment before she gently hugs her back. As if on instinct, her hands go up to start undoing her ponytail, like she used to always do after games. Azzi combs through her hair, gently twisting off the hair tie and murmuring into her ear.

Shoulders shaking, Paige sinks into Azzi’s chest as she finally allows herself to cry. “It’s okay, baby,” Azzi whispers, lips grazing her ear. “I got you.”

It seems like hours that Azzi holds Paige. Eventually, the blonde’s breathing evens out, her sniffling stopping as her breaths become deeper. She thinks Paige is asleep until the older girl turns her head slightly. “Will you be here when I wake up?”

Azzi slings an arm across her waist, breathing her in. The ends of Paige’s hair tickle her cheek, but she doesn’t move. “Do you want me to be?”

Paige’s voice comes out, barely in a whisper. “Yes.”

Azzi drops her head, lips skimming across the older girl’s neck. Paige’s skin is warm, her pulse fluttering under her touch. Azzi tightens her grip on her waist, thumb dipping under her shirt to stroke soft circles on her hipbone. Paige shifts closer. “Then I’ll be here.”

•••

Paige wakes up to tangled sheets and warm hands on her face. She blinks sleepily as her vision sharpens to see Azzi propped over her on one elbow. “How you feeling?” Azzi asks softly, her morning voice scratchy.

Paige reaches up, fingers trailing over Azzi’s hand cupping her cheek. “Better,” she breathes out. She looks over at the alarm clock, groaning. “We still have half an hour.”

Paige flips over onto her belly, resting her head on Azzi’s chest. Azzi grabs her waist, adjusting her so that the older girl is fully on top of her. Her hands go up to stroke Paige’s back, scratching up and down her bare skin with her fingernails. Closing her eyes, Paige listens to the steady beat of Azzi’s heart. “You always smell so good,” she murmurs.

Azzi hums, rubbing her socked foot against Paige’s ankle. Paige has almost drifted off again when fingers gently brush hair out of her face. “We gotta be at breakfast in 10.”

“Don’t wanna get up.” She groans when Azzi takes her hands out from under her shirt, pushing Paige off her softly. Azzi starts to get ready, grabbing clothes to wear from Paige’s duffel without even asking.

Paige sits at the edge of the bed, watching Azzi move around the room. She can almost imagine that they’re back to normal again, going to bed together and waking up together as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. “You’re the only one that makes me feel like this.”

Azzi pauses for a moment before choosing not to respond. She disappears into the bathroom, reemerging a few seconds later with two toothbrushes. She hands one to Paige. “You can’t just say stuff like that.”

Paige grabs the toothbrush and stares at her. “What? It’s true.”

“It’s not gonna help either of us move on,” Azzi says pointedly.

“What if I don’t want to move on?” Paige challenges, following Azzi back to the bathroom.

“There’s no future for us, Paige,” Azzi says harshly, turning around to put a warning hand against Paige’s chest. She closes the door between the two of them as if to reaffirm their boundaries.

“So you’re just gonna come to my hotel room and hold me through the night then get pissed at me for still having feelings for you?” Paige laughs humorlessly, slumping down to sit against the door. “Real classy, Azzi.”

“You needed someone. I couldn’t sit in my room knowing you were suffering.”

“Have you ever considered that maybe you’re making it worse by all this coming and leaving?” Paige blinks back tears. “God, you finally just look at me again and I go fucking crazy.” She scrambles to her feet once she hears the door unlock, and Azzi comes out, her eyes slightly red. “I can’t have just some of you. I need to have all of you or - or none of you.”

The younger girl jerks towards her. “You’re a fucking liar, you know? You said no matter what decision I chose, you would be happy,” she shoots back, voice shaky with anger.

Paige’s eyes cloud over. “How do you know that?”

Azzi hesitated. “The letter you write me- I found it. In the guest room.” As if on instinct, her hands reach for her purse, but she stops herself. It certainly wouldn’t help her case if Paige knew she carried that note with her everywhere she went.

Cursing under her breath, Paige runs a hand through her hair. “You weren’t supposed to see that.”

“Yeah, well.” Azzi takes a deep breath, trying to recollect her thoughts. “I’m asking you to be happy for me, okay? I know it’s a lot. But you’re my best friend. I need you to do this for me.”

“You’re not being fair to me.” Paige’s words catch in her throat. “You know how this makes me feel.”

“I know.” Azzi leans her forehead against Paige’s. Her thumb finds the tears coating the older girl’s lashes, the dampness of her cheeks, trying to brush them away, trying to brush all their mistakes and their sins and their pain away. “I know, and I’m sorry.”

Paige dips her head down, burrowing it into her shoulder, fingers digging into Azzi’s waist as if holding onto her any tighter will keep her from slipping away from her life. “Okay.” Her voice cracks. Just ten minutes ago, she’d been firmly resolute in her ultimatum - seeing Azzi with other people had hurt too fucking much for her to stand. But now? Paige has always been a people pleaser. Recently she’s been learning to stand her ground, to be okay with letting others be upset. But when it comes to her best friend, who’s pleading with her, eyes wet with grief and hope and a million words unsaid, Paige knows that she doesn’t have it in her to say no. That learning to get over her pain will somehow be doable if it means that it’ll take away just a little bit of Azzi’s . “Okay.”

[urno1luv]

giselle coming back from practice stressed and taking it out on reader + consensual somno?😋 i luv ur writing🫶🫶

cw: not really somnophilia bc reader wakes up half way through, fingering

The clock reads 2:14 AM when Giselle finally comes home.

She’s quiet — dropping her bag by the door, running a hand through her messy hair.

You’re asleep — soft, warm breaths rising and falling beneath the covers — completely unaware of how bad her day was. Her eyes linger on you for a second.

You always look so pretty when you're sleeping — tucked up all cozy, lips slightly parted, legs curled up under the sheets like you’re waiting for her to come ruin you. Her teeth sink into her bottom lip.

You have no idea how badly she needs you right now.

She moves without thinking — slipping out of her clothes, the room dim and heavy with silence. The mattress dips beneath her weight as she crawls in behind you, warm hands sliding beneath your shirt, tracing slow circles along your bare waist.

You stir faintly — but you don’t wake.

Perfect.

Her fingers trail lower — down between your thighs, where you're soft and warm and already wet without even knowing she's there. She smirks against your neck.

"My pretty little baby... always ready for me, huh?"

You let out the faintest whimper in your sleep, hips twitching under her touch — and that’s when something snaps inside her. All that stress — all that frustration — it’s been building all day, weighing heavy on her chest.

But now you're here — soft and helpless in Giselle's arms — and suddenly the only thing she can think about is taking it all out on you. Her good girl.

Her little stress relief.

Her toy.

Her hand slides into your panties — two fingers slipping between your folds, teasing you slow and lazy. "You have no idea what you're about to wake up to, baby..." she whispers. You whimper softly, shifting in your sleep — but she just smirks, pressing her fingers deeper, feeling how easily you open up for her.

"So fucking wet..."

Her voice is low, rough against your ear — half praise, half punishment. "Such a needy little thing... even when you're sleeping, you're begging for me."

She loves how vulnerable you are like this — how easily she could wreck you without you even knowing.

But she wants you awake for this.

Giselle wants to see your pretty little eyes blink open — wide and confused — right before she ruins you. So she circles your clit just a little faster, fingers pressing deep — until your body jolts beneath her, a soft little gasp falling from your lips.

"There she is..." she purrs.

You blink groggily — hips twitching into her hand — but she doesn't slow down. "Shh, baby... don't fight it."

Her free hand slides up to wrap around your throat — not squeezing, just holding — keeping you exactly where she wants you. "You wanna be a good girl for me, huh?"

You're still half-asleep, mind hazy — but the way you whimper and grind against her fingers tells her everything she needs to know.

Her good girl always wants to please.

Even in your sleep.

"You don't have to do anything, baby... just lay there and take it."

Her fingers fuck into you deeper — slow, deliberate strokes — dragging against that perfect little spot that makes your thighs tremble.

"That's it..." she whispers, voice rough in your ear. "Let me use you."

You moan softly, hips rolling into her hand — but she just tightens her grip around your throat, pinning you down.

"Shh... don't make me gag you, baby."

You bite your lip, trying to keep quiet — but the way she's fucking you, slow and deep and lazy, has you melting in her arms, all soft little whimpers and shaky breaths.

"You like being used, don't you?" she growls, pressing her fingers harder against your clit.

You nod weakly, tears prickling at the corners of your eyes. Giselle's broken little plaything.

"You belong to me, baby." Her teeth graze your jaw, breath hot against your ear.

"You're mine."

You come with a muffled little sob — legs shaking, slick coating her fingers — but she doesn't stop. Not yet.

Her fingers keep moving — slower now, teasing — dragging out every last wave of pleasure until you're squirming in her arms, overstimulated and whimpering. "You can give me another one, baby."

Her hand tightens just a little around your throat — not enough to hurt, just enough to own you.

"You don't get to sleep until I'm finished with you."

[tinyd3ath]

🎀🩰 Bulking Weight 🎀🩰

“Come on mama, fuck! Just be a good girl and take it so I can give you all my cum. That’s what you want right.”

Or

Bakugou gets a little insecure about the extra weight he gained while bulking, and you fuck the insecurity out of him.

Originally posted on A03

🎀🩰

“This was so much fun.” You practically bouncing with joy. It’s been forever since y’all have been on patrol together.

“Whatever dumbass, don’t slow me down.” You throw a glare his way.

“Don’t forget I’m still your wife, your ass will be on the couch if you keep talking to me like that.”

He scuffs in response knowing not to test you, but still wanting to have the last “word”. You giggle at him. You find it cute how unbothered he tries to seem.

Today seemed to be a pretty calm day for patrol. So far you’ve only broken up two fights, saved a cat, and taken pictures with a few fans.

You guys got a call that you can end the day early since it’s been pretty slow all over the city. You two are walking back to the agency now. Bakugou can feel the excitement rolling off you. He can’t help, but crack a little smirk. Seeing his pretty wife practically glow with excitement lights something inside him. He thought he’d be over all the puppy love by now, but watching you walk down the street smiling while the sun hits your skin making your cheeks look like those caramel/chocolate commercials makes him just wanna sink his teeth in you. In a good way of course.

“What are you so excited about anyways?”

“I was planning on watching the new game of thrones series when we got back, and now I get to watch it earlier than planned” You squeal.

Gosh you’re such a nerd. He never understood why you like those British shows. They all look like their bodies, and breath smell like ass. Yeah, the fight scenes are cool, but other than that what do you watch it for?

He was too busy thinking about how weird your taste in television was to notice a group of teenagers boys walking down the sidewalk towards y’all. He’s shaken out of his thoughts by the force of the tallest in the group shoulder checking him.

“Watch old man.” The tall box dyed blonde says to Bakugou. The kid’s friends all snicker. Bakugou stops , and turns to the group.

“Didn’t your parents teach you to respect your superiors? Especially the ones out here keeping your ass safe.”

The blonde teen just rolled his eyes.

“You should be less worried about my parents, and more worried about your beer belly. Fat ass.” Before he can stop, and think about it Bakugou goes to grab the kid by the collar. But you are quicker, and grab his arm before he can do so.

“Come on I wanna go home.” You plead with your eyes for him to let it go. He really wants to teach these fuckers a lesson, but his need to please you outweighs his need to rub some random brat’s face in the dirt. He grunts in agreement, and lets you drag him away. He can hear the boys laughing as y’all walk away. But all he cares about is getting his pretty wife on the couch surrounded by your favorite snacks.

You use your quirk to knock the kid on his ass before you guys get too far. Teenagers fucking suck.

—

While sitting on the couch with you later he couldn’t help replay what that brat said earlier. He noticed he’d gained a little fat, but it’s because he’s bulking. Was it really that noticeable? Why haven’t you said anything? He started to feel as if he led you on.

When you first meet back in school he wasn’t all jacked, but he was far from fat. The body you feel in love with. The one you loved so much your panties would get wet just from looking at isn’t the same anymore.

Did you still even find him attractive?

Bakugou can’t bring himself to ask you about it. He says that he’ll just watch you carefully to see any signs of discomfort . The problem was you look so unfazed. He can’t tell if it’s because you haven’t noticed, don’t care, or if you’re trying to look unbothered to not hurt his feelings.

His feelings weren’t hurt, maybe his ego was a little bruised. But the fact you’re the type to go around problems that aren’t problems to protect other’s feelings only adds to the uncertainty.

What Bakugou didn’t notice was that you picked up on his discomfort. You noticed the long looks in the mirror after every shower. The not wanting to cuddle every night like he usually does. Most of all the lack of intimacy.

You guys haven’t had sex in almost a week. Every time y’all start to get hot, and heavy he just eats you out the rolls over and says goodnight.

Head is great. But fuck, you wanna feel the weight of your husband on top of you as he makes love to you.

You decid you’ve had enough. Whatever is worrying him so much you’re going find out and fix. At dinner you decide to finally speak about it.

“Katsuki.” Almost immediately Bakugou looks up at you.

“Yes?” Worry lines your face. Bakugou starts to panic thinking something happened to make you upset. Just as he was about to ask if you were okay you cut him off.

“What’s wrong? You’ve been acting different. You haven’t been as affectionate or intimate. Are you not attracted to me anymore?”

Now he really starts to panic. How could you, his beautiful perfect wife ever think you were the problem? How could he not be attracted to you? You were hand crafted by God himself. You are the only woman he could ever love. Never once had he ever questioned your beauty. Even in school when he thought you were annoying, he still found you breathtaking.

“Are you crazy there’s no way I couldn’t be attracted to you.”

“Then what’s the problem?” He pauses, and shaky breath in. Should he lie, or let you know that some punk made him a little insecure?

No, he can’t lie to you. For this whole ‘death do us part’ thing to work he’s gonna have to be honest with you. Even if it makes him uncomfortable.

“…I’m afraid that you don’t find me attractive now that I’ve put on some pounds.” He’s too embarrassed to even look up from his plate. There’s silence for a minute. He starts to worry that he’s actually right. But when he looks up to see your face it’s filled with nothing, but love. You get up from your seat, and walk over to him. You reach out to stroke his cheek.

“There’s nothing that would make me stop loving, or finding you unattractive. And I have noticed the extra pounds, but honestly it’s kinda doing it for me.” You giggle at his stunned face. You pull him in for a kiss. It starts off tinder. Full of the love you two share. But with new found confidence Bakugou starts to get impatient. He missed this. Your body against his. The kiss becomes more intense as he pulls you closer to him.

He lifts you by the back of your knees, and carries you to your shared bedroom. You let out a squeal as you’re dropped on the bed. Bakugou chuckles at you, but you aren’t given enough time to say anything about before he reconnects your lips. He starts moving his kisses lower, and nips at your jaw.

Between nibbles, and kisses Baukgou breathes out “God I’ve missed this”.

You let out a startled moan when he goes lower, and sucks your nipple through your thin shirt. You feel his lips curve into a smirk at your reaction.

You start to get impatient from all the nipping,and kissing. You’ve been deprived of him for too long. You whine as you tug on his shirt letting him know you want it off. Bakugou can’t help,

but coo at you, and give a kiss to your pouty lips.

“I know pretty girl, I know. Just let me taste you first baby.” He peels your clothes off before laying between your legs. His mouth waters every time he see your beautiful cunt. He watches as more slick leaks from you. He uses his thumb to spread it across your lips, before giving your clit the tiniest rub. It’s a ghost of a touch, and it drives you crazy. You start whining down at your husband begging with your pretty eyes for more, and who is he to tell you no? He replaces his hand with his mouth.

He loves the smell, and taste of you. He never thought there’d be a day he would be obsessed with a vagina, but after y’all’s first time he’s been hooked. He licks you like it give him just as much pleasure. The room is filled with your moans, and the sloppy sound of your dripping hole and his mouth . You grab at his hair, and start rolling your hips up into his face. Bakugou’s eyes rolling back at the feeling of you rubbing your juices all over his lower face and nose.

Bakugou sucks your clit between his lips while flicking the tip of his tongue against it. The clinching in your stomach gets tighter, and you know you’re close. But when he slightly nibbles on your clit you know it’s over. You cry out as you ride your orgasm out on his face. After you calm down Bakugou sits up on his knees to see your fucked out expression, and heaving chest.

As good as him eating you out was, it wasn’t what you wanted. You tug at his pants with pleading eyes, expressing what you really want.

“What pretty girl you can’t use your words?” He says in that mockingly sweet voice. He likes seeing his pretty wife like this. All desperate, and sparkling eyed. It’s impossible not to get hard while watching you squirm, and beg for his cock. It’s when you pout up to him all big eyed, and desperate that he gives you what you want. No matter how hard he tries he can’t say no to you. His beautiful sweet wife. If he could he’d give you the universe. He pulls his shirt off, and tosses it across the room. He then removes his belt, and pants leaving him in just his underwear. He starts to feel a little uneasy showing all this extra skin to you, but seeing the hungry look on your face burns it all away.

You feel yourself getting wetter as you stare at your husband’s changed body. You felt the extra weight, but seeing it makes you so much more hornier than you expected. All his bulging muscles. Instead of being lean like before he’s fuller. His stomach has become slightly rounder, and his shoulders, chest, and biceps meatier.

“Fuck I need you.” A evil smirk breaks out across Bakugou’s face.

“Come get it baby.” You tug his underwear down causing his cock to flop out. The swollen pink tip leaks with precum. You give him a few strokes before leaning down, and giving the tip a sweet kiss. You suck the tip into your mouth while wiggling your hips in the air knowing how much he loves seeing your ass move. Bakugou groans at the display. But you only get two head bobs in before he’s pulling you off, and pushing you on your back.

“That can wait for later. Weren’t you just begging me to fuck you. I gotta give my baby what she want.” He smugly says to you.

Bakugou pushes your knees apart and, taps his fat dick on your pussy. He enjoys watching the slight jiggle of your fat lips. He sit his dick between your lips, and lets his dick sit snug between the two. He thrust slowly. His tip catching your clit with every upward thrust. He loves watching the contrast of his dick sliding between your brown lips.

After an impatient “Katsuki” he lines his tip up with your hole, and slowly pushes into you. You both can’t stop the low whines from leaving your lips as he stretches your tight spongy walls around him. He looks to make sure he wasn’t hurting you, and almost blows his load right there.

Seeing your mouth agape, and face scrunched up in pressure causes his dick to twitch inside you.

He can’t stop himself from breathing out a “Fuck baby” at the sight of you laid out so pretty. He starts moving at a steady pace. He leaves kisses all over your face, and shoulders. He can’t stop himself from telling you how good you are between kisses. Something about your gummy walls makes his mind go foggy, and his tongue loose.

“You’re doing so good baby.”

“Taking all of me so well.”

“Come on pretty girl give it to me.”

“Can’t believe this pretty pussy is all mine.” The steady pace was amazing while you were getting use to his size again,but now you were getting impatient and wanting more.

Bakugou is caught off guard when you suddenly pulled him down by his neck, and cross your ankles around his waist. You can’t stand the no skin to skin. All you want is to feel the weight of your husband on top of you while he beats your walls in.

You look up at him with glossy eyes, and beg “please Katsuki, i need more”.

And who the hell was he to tell you no. He gives you one last peck before getting up on his elbows, and thrusting into you like it was his only purpose in life. Your squeals plus the sloppy sound your cunt starts making, makes his mind go hazy. All he can think about is getting you to cum on his cock then stuffing you full of his cum.

You reach between your bodies to give your clit the attention she’s throbbing for. The added sensation makes you squeeze even tighter around him. It’s too much for you both. Bakugou can’t even hold himself up anymore causing him to lay his full body on you,and starts humping into wet soft heat. He subconsciously starts sucking and licking on your neck like a fucking virgin that’s having their first kiss.

You can’t stop your sobs. It’s all too much, and not enough at the same time. You feel so full, yet you want to suck him in deeper. His tip rubbing against your cervix isn’t enough. You want him inside it, smearing his cum against each area of it.

“Katsuki, fuck!” you wail.

“Daddy please!”

“It’s okay baby you can take.” He coos at you.

“No I can’t, it’s too much!”

“Come on baby take it for me.” He pulls you into a sloppy kiss. When you pull apart he says

“Come on mama, fuck! Just be a good girl and take it so I can give you all my cum. That’s what you want right.”

You get out a little ‘mhm’ between sobs.

You feel your climax on the tip of your tongue. He can tell you need a little something more. Bakugou reaches his hand up, and rolls your nipple between his fingers before giving it a pinch.

Your climax hits you like a wave, and drags Bakugou down with you. He continues thrusting making sure he covers all your walls with his cum.

You two lay there holding each other after coming down from your highs. You run your nails through his hair while waiting for your heartbeats to go back to normal. After a few minutes you decide to break the silence.

“You know, nothing could make me stop loving you.” Bakugou feels an intense swell of emotion in his chest. He tries to hide his red cheeks, and teary eyes by burying his face between your breast.

“Fuck how’d I get so lucky?”

[lilianne-tarot]

PICK A CARD: Your Sweetest & Most Lovable Qualities ✮⋆˙

I. II. III.

How to Pick Your Pile: Take a deep breath, clear your mind, and look at the images above. Which one pulls you in the most? Trust your gut! Once you choose the image, The number below your chosen image is your pile. If more than one catches your eye, that just means there’s extra tea for you—go ahead and read both!

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⋆𐙚₊˚Pile I

So, we’ve got, Yeah, I know big cards for a topic about your most endearing qualities. Oh, and before we go any further—let me just say this. I couldn’t pull more than three cards for this pile for some reason. To me, that’s the universe saying, This is it. This is all they need to know. This is the energy of someone who has lived, felt, and somehow turned all the chaos of life into something beautiful, tender, and deeply lovable. But that’s exactly what makes this reading so powerful. You’re not someone whose sweetness is obvious on the surface.

This pile is the softest in a "you don’t even realize how powerful your love is" kind of way.

listen, if these cards were in a different context, I’d be holding your hand and whispering, “Babe, brace yourself,” but here? These two cards are telling me that your most lovable quality is how you handle endings, transformations, and straight-up life-altering moments. You don’t cling when things need to be let go. You don’t fear the crumbling because you know something better is waiting to be built. And that? That’s what makes people soft for you. There’s something heartbreakingly tender about a person who has seen destruction but still chooses to believe in new beginnings. You give off this aura of quiet strength—like someone who’s been through the fire but still keeps their hands warm enough to comfort others. People feel safe with you, not because life is always stable around you (The Tower says otherwise, babe), but because you’ve shown time and time again that no matter how much things collapse, you will always rebuild. And let’s talk about how unexpectedly comforting you are. You’re not the person who hands out surface-level advice like “everything happens for a reason” (ugh, no). You’re the one who sits with people in their mess, in their heartbreak, in their uncertainty, and just exists with them, without judgment. And somehow, through your presence alone, you make people believe that they, too, will get through it. (OMG PILE 1, i wanna give you people such a big hug 😭😭 I seriously felt like crying while writing this pile, the energies were so heavy yet so soft) See, your kindness isn’t loud. It’s not the type that announces itself in grand gestures or obvious ways. It’s the kind that sneaks up on people. The kind that makes someone pause one day and think, “Wow, I didn’t even realize how much I needed them.” You don’t just offer stability—you are stability. Not because your life is always in order (again, The Tower says you’ve had your fair share of chaos), but because you know how to find steadiness even in uncertainty. You’re like a lighthouse in the storm, always there, always steady, guiding people home without needing to be asked. And people adore this about you. There’s something profoundly lovable about someone who makes others feel grounded without even trying. Whether it’s through your words, your actions, or just the way you carry yourself, you give people a sense of belonging. You’re not the kind of person who opens up easily, and that’s part of what makes your sweetness so special.

You don’t hand out trust like free samples at a store. No, honey, people have to work for it. And when they do? They’re met with something so rare—loyalty, unwavering support, and a kind of love that says, “I will stand by you even when everything else falls apart.” And that? That makes people soft for you in a way that’s hard to put into words. People may not always realize it at first, but once they do, they never forget you. You’re the kind of person whose absence is felt. The kind of person who, once someone has experienced your presence, nothing else quite measures up.

So, to sum this all up? Your most endearing, lovable qualities aren’t the kind that everyone immediately recognizes. You’re not “sweet” in the conventional, sunshine-and-rainbows way. You’re sweet in the way that a person feels when they’ve finally found home after being lost for so long. You’re sweet in the way that endings feel bittersweet but necessary. You’re sweet in the way that rebirth always holds a quiet kind of hope. And that? That’s a kind of sweetness that can’t be replicated.

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⋆𐙚₊˚Pile II

Alright, bestie, let’s get into Pile 2 because this reading? Oh, it’s personal. VERY PERSONAL.

So, looking at Four of Cups, Queen of Pentacles, Five of Pentacles, and The Sun, I’m getting such a specific and beautiful energy from you. You’re the type of person whose sweetness isn’t immediately obvious to everyone—it’s something people earn the right to see. Your love, your warmth, your kindness? It’s not just out there for anyone to take. It’s guarded, not because you’re cold, but because you know the value of your heart.Pile 2 people, your love feels like home. They are the ones who will wrap you up in warmth, make sure you’ve eaten, and remind you that you are loved even on the days you feel invisible.

I can tell you’re someone who has felt neglected in the past. Maybe you’ve been that person who showed up for others but didn’t always get the same in return. Maybe you’ve had moments where you wondered, Does anyone even see me? But here’s the thing—this has shaped you into someone so rare, so deeply precious. You don’t just give your love freely—you give it intentionally. And when you do? It changes people.There’s something so tender about someone who understands what it’s like to feel left out in the cold but still chooses to be warm. You don’t just give surface-level kindness; you make people feel safe. Your energy is like a soft, golden light in a world that can sometimes feel too harsh. the Queen of Pentacles energy sitting right in the middle of this spread, i see it as one of the main qualities of yours. You are the nurturer, the provider, the person whose presence feels like a deep breath after a long day. But what makes this so beautiful is that you don’t flaunt it. You’re not out here shouting, Look at me, I’m kind! No, your love is quiet. It’s the type that sneaks up on people when they realize, Damn, I’ve never felt this safe before.

You have this incredible ability to make people feel valued. Not just liked, not just appreciated, but genuinely, wholeheartedly valued. And you don’t do it in a way that’s over-the-top or performative—you do it in the little things. The way you remember the small details about people, the way you check in even when they don’t ask, the way you offer comfort without making a big deal about it. That’s your magic. But here’s the thing—you don’t just give, give, give anymore. I see it in this spread. You’ve learned that your love is not a free buffet; it’s a carefully prepared meal, and only those who truly appreciate it get a seat at your table. And honestly? That’s one of the most lovable things about you. You don’t let just anyone into your world, but when you do? You give them something real, something they’ll never find anywhere else.

Oh, babe, do you even know how bright you shine? Because let me tell you, you don’t always see it, but others do. There’s this thing about you—you don’t even realize how much joy you bring to people just by existing. You might be the type who’s so used to being strong as we talked about how you are used to being neglected so you have now developed this coping mechanism , to carrying your own burdens, that you don’t notice how much your presence lifts others up. But trust me—people see it. You have this warm, radiant energy that just feels good to be around. And it’s not the loud, center-of-attention kind of warmth. It’s the kind that makes people feel like they can be themselves. The kind that makes them feel lighter, freer, happier.

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⋆𐙚₊˚Pile lll

First off, the fact that you got two Major Arcana cards in this reading? Yeah, this isn’t just about your surface-level sweetness. You people are the softest in the way that you inspire other people to keep going.

Starting off with this spread here, and oh my god, bestie, do you even realize how much you carry on your own? Like, I’m not even talking about small worries—I mean the deep, sleepless-night kind of overthinking. The taking on everyone else’s pain while pushing yours aside type of energy. y’all are like a walking contrast in the best way possible. On one hand, you carry a lot of internal battles, but on the other hand, you are the biggest source of light for others. And that’s what makes you so incredibly lovable. Your softness isn’t just about being gentle—it’s about being brave enough to keep believing in something better, even when life has knocked you down. You feel things deeply, and honestly? That’s what makes you so lovable. Here’s the thing: your softness isn’t in being effortlessly sweet—it’s in being brave enough to still love despite everything you’ve been through. You’ve had moments where you felt alone, where you thought, No one sees what I’m going through. But you never let that turn you cold. Instead, you became the person who helps others feel less alone. You are the definition of “I got you” energy—the friend, the lover, the safe space that people don’t even realize they need until they meet you. You make people feel understood, like they don’t have to carry things by themselves anymore. And that? That is rare. Now, let’s talk about The Star—because, DAMN, you don’t even realize how much of a light you are, do you? This card sitting right here tells me something crazy beautiful about you, You make people believe in good things again. You are literally hope personified. i think You people give the best motvational speeches Lol. You don’t sugarcoat things, but somehow you always know the right thing to say to pull someone out of their darkness. You remind people that life keeps moving, and better days are coming. You have this infectious “Why not?” attitude.

And what’s wild? You do this without even realizing it. Like, you’ll say something casually, and days later, someone’s still thinking about it, because you saw something in them that they didn’t even see in themselves. That’s your magic. Your love is quiet, but it’s healing. But here’s where it gets interesting—The Fool. And I love, love, LOVE this placement because this tells me your most lovable quality isn’t just your strength—it’s your ability to keep going. Like, after everything? You still believe in new beginnings. You still take risks with your heart. You still trust that there’s more to life than just pain and struggle. People are drawn to you because you remind them that it’s okay to start over. That it’s okay to try, to love, to hope—even after things have hurt them. And that’s something so rare. Because most people who’ve been through what you’ve been through? They shut down. But you? You open up. You jump, even when you’re scared. You let life surprise you. And that? That’s love in its purest form.

Your sweetness isn’t in being overly bubbly or outwardly affectionate—it’s in being real. In being the person who gets up even when life knocks them down. In being the kind of love that doesn’t demand attention but changes lives just by existing. And that? That’s a love the world doesn’t see enough of.

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Thank you so much for reading all the way through! I hope my reading resonated with you and that you had a lovely time going through it. If you enjoyed it, please like and reblog—it really means a lot! Let me know which pile you chose; I absolutely love hearing your thoughts and feedback on my readings! If my reading resonated you, you may consider buying my paid reading as it would really help me out financially♡

Note: tarot cards provide guidance and possible insights into what could happen based on current energies, thoughts, and actions. the cards can highlight potential paths or outcomes, but they do not fixedly predict the future. this is a general reading so take what resonates!

[theemporium]

i think the “i’m gonna sleep at my place tonight” prank would work on luke. you’ve moved into him and jacks apartment and not only is luke pouty and sleepy and confused. jack is lost bc he’s like “you live here?” would you be willing to make a blurb about this please?

tweaked it a little but thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

.

You hadn’t even done the prank for the sake of recording it, you were mostly just curious at what the reaction would have been after seeing a few videos earlier that day.

The three of you had a routine, one that you had developed wordlessly since you began dating Luke almost a year ago. On the days that you would be sleeping over, the three of you would watch some random movie or series in the living room together after dinner. You and Luke would take the bigger couch with him sprawled over you like a weighted blanket. Jack would take the smaller couch, sometimes paying attention and sometimes scrolling through his phone where he would turn to show you both something he found funny. 

It had become more of a norm the last few weeks since you had been crashing at their apartment for the foreseeable future after your place became inhabitable. 

It was domestic and comforting and predictable. 

So really, the prank was out of pure curiosity on what two hockey players—known for having their superstitions and routines, despite what they said—would do when that predictability was shattered.

“Alright,” you started once Luke was almost half-asleep with his head on your chest and Jack was immersed in whoever he was texting. “I should get going.” 

Luke let out a groan, nuzzling himself closer to you (as if that was possible). “We going to bed?” 

“No,” you said, trying to keep the grin off your face as you combed your fingers through his curls, watching the way he sighed as his eyes fluttered shut again. “I think I’m gonna sleep at my place tonight.” 

That seemed to catch Jack’s attention as he finally looked up from his phone, frowning at you. “What?” 

“I said I’m gonna sleep at my place tonight,” you repeated, moving yourself out from underneath Luke who groaned unhappily. 

Luke’s annoyance slowly morphed into confusion as he watched you start to grab your things. “Wait, what? What do you mean you’re sleeping at your place?” 

“Just need some space,” you said with a casual shrug, looking up to see both brothers staring at you with baffled expressions. “You know, have a me night.” 

Luke’s crestfallen expression almost made you break. He still looked half-asleep, not fully processing whatever conversation you were having. “You don’t want to sleep beside me tonight?” 

You flashed your boyfriend a sheepish smile. 

“Forget that,” Jack scoffed, sitting up a bit straighter. “You live here now? Why wouldn’t you be sleeping here?”

You shrugged. 

Jack blinked. “Did you hit your head and forget that your apartment is currently submerged in, like, three feet of water?” 

Luke blinked a few times like he was starting to wake up a little. “How is that more desirable than my bed?” 

But Jack took one look at the way you were pressing your lips together to hold back your laughter before he let out a groan, slumping back into his seat with a huff. “Ha ha, funny joke.”

“Like you haven’t done shittier pranks,” you snorted. 

However, Luke still looked baffled as he reached out for you, fingers gripping the sleeve of the hoodie you were wearing to pull you closer. “Babe, what do you mean you wanna sleep at your place?” 

Your expression softened as you took in the sleepy, hooded eyes and messy curls, cooing as you tugged your boyfriend to stand up. “Nothing, baby, m’staying the night here. Let’s go to bed, yeah?” 

Luke flashed you a sleepy smile, nodding before he let out a yawn. 

.

[isuckatwritingsobenice]

My Fault London: Nick Blurbs

A/N: Kind of headcannons, kind of blurbs, all around just wanted to write for Nick :) Spicey Ver. Here!

Fast, Calculated

Nick’s car hums beneath you, the engine smooth as he weaves through the streets at an almost effortless speed. You know he’s in control, but that doesn’t stop your pulse from spiking every time he threads through tight gaps between cars like they aren’t even there.

“Nick—” you start, gripping the edge of your seat.

His smirk is almost lazy, but his eyes never leave the road. “Relax.”

“Relax? You’re going ninety in a fifty zone—”

Before you can finish, he smoothly takes a turn down an empty side street, braking just enough for the car to slide into place at the curb. His hand lands on your knee—firm, steady.

“You don’t trust me?” he asks, his voice softer now.

You exhale, your fingers still clenched against the seat. You hate that he always does this—pushes the limits, then pulls back just in time. Never reckless, but always toeing the line.

He watches you carefully. His hand doesn’t move. “I know what I’m doing,” he murmurs. “You know that.”

You swallow, heart still racing. Slowly, you force yourself to breathe.

Finally, you meet his gaze. “I do.”

His smirk fades into something almost unreadable, and for a moment, there’s nothing but the sound of your breathing and the distant hum of the city outside. Then, as if the moment never happened, he pulls away and taps the wheel.

“Good,” he says, voice back to its usual cocky drawl. “Now, you picking the music, or are we just sitting in silence all night?”

Protective to a Fault

The party is too loud, too crowded. You regret coming the second you realize how packed it is, but Nick insisted he wasn’t letting you stay home alone.

“You gotta get out once in a while,” he had teased. “Or I’m gonna start thinking you secretly hate fun.”

You had rolled your eyes, but now, as you shift uncomfortably in the too-warm space, you almost wish you had stayed home.

Especially because the guy you’ve been trying to politely brush off for the last five minutes isn’t getting the hint.

“Come on, sweetheart,” the guy slurs, leaning in too close. “One dance—what’s the harm?”

Your stomach twists. “I said no.”

“That’s not what your eyes are saying—”

And then suddenly, Nick is there, standing between you and the guy like he was waiting for this moment.

“Hey, buddy,” Nick says, voice light, but there’s something dangerous underneath. “Didn’t she just say no?”

The guy scoffs, barely glancing at Nick. “Who the hell are you?”

Now normally Nick isn’t one for talking much. He likes to use his fists to communicate. But after promising his mother promising you, not to be so violent, he finds his restraint ticking like a clock at the moment. Nick tilts his head slightly, amusement flickering in his eyes. “Someone with a short temper and a lot of free time. You wanna find out what happens when you ignore her again?”

The guy sizes Nick up, like he’s thinking about pushing his luck. But then Nick shifts slightly, and you know he’s already decided what will happen if this guy takes another step toward you.

The guy mutters something under his breath before turning and disappearing into the crowd.

Nick doesn’t watch him leave. Instead, he turns to you, scanning your face. “You okay?”

You nod, exhaling. “Yeah. Thanks.”

He doesn’t say anything—just hands you the drink from his own hand instead of yours.

You frown. “What—”

“Mine’s not spiked,” he says simply.

The realization hits you all at once. You glance down at the drink you were holding. Had that guy—?

Your stomach churns.

Nick sighs, running a hand through his hair. “I told you,” he mutters. “You gotta stop trusting people. I get to do that for you.”

Soft Spot for Animals

It’s past midnight when you walk into Nick’s garage, expecting to find him working on his car. Instead, you see him crouched down beside a tiny, scrappy-looking kitten, offering it a piece of leftover sandwich.

You stop in your tracks, biting back a grin. “Are you—”

Nick looks up sharply. “Shut up.”

You raise your hands in mock surrender. “Didn’t say a word.”

He mutters something under his breath and focuses back on the kitten. It hesitates before snatching the food from his hand, its little ribs visible under its fur.

“You’re keeping it,” you say, matter-of-fact.

Nick scoffs. “Hell no.”

Two days later, you walk into the garage and find the same kitten curled up in his lap while he absently scratches behind its ears.

You smirk. “Not keeping it, huh?”

Nick doesn’t even look up. “It’s temporary.”

Sure.

Night Owl

Your phone buzzes at 2 AM.

Nick: Come outside.

You sigh but grab your hoodie anyway, stepping out into the night air. He’s leaning against his car, arms crossed, looking up at the sky.

“You always do this?” you ask, stuffing your hands into your pockets. “Show up unannounced in the middle of the night?”

He tilts his head toward the passenger seat. “Couldn’t sleep. Figured you couldn’t either.”

You blink. He’s not wrong, but… how does he know that?

Still, you don’t argue. You get in.

He drives with the windows down, the air cool against your skin. Neither of you speak, but the silence is comfortable. Eventually, he pulls up to an overlook where the whole city stretches below.

For a while, you just sit there, watching the lights. Then, out of nowhere, he says, “You ever think about leaving?”

You glance at him. “Where would we go?”

He taps his fingers against the steering wheel. “Somewhere new. Somewhere no one knows us.”

Something in his voice makes your chest tighten.

“You’d take me with you?” you ask quietly.

Nick turns his head toward you, his expression unreadable. Then, just as softly, he says, “Wouldn’t go without you.”

Actions Over Words

Nick isn’t the type to say he cares.

Instead, he just shows up.

When your car won’t start in the middle of the night while you’re over late at a friends house, you don’t even get through the second ring before he picks up.

“What’s wrong?”

“Car won’t start,” you mumble. “I—I didn’t know who else to call—”

“Where are you?” he asks, already moving.

Fifteen minutes later, he pulls up beside you. He doesn’t say a word—just pops the hood, fixes the problem in five minutes, then leans against the car with his arms crossed.

“Next time, don’t wait so long to call me,” he says.

You sigh, rubbing your arms. “I didn’t want to bother you—”

He clicks his tongue. “Dumbest thing I’ve heard all night.”

You smile. “So… I’m not a bother?”

Nick gives you a look. Then, to your surprise, he reaches out and flicks your forehead.

“You better not be,” he mutters. “Because I’m not going anywhere.”

[daddydixonscrossbow]

You show up to Daryl’s house after getting hurt on a run

You limped your way through the gate, shooting down everyone asks about you being alright.

“Yeah I just hurt my knee, gotta go rest it.”

“Rolled my ankle, I’m fine.”

It was always something different, but never the actual reason. You made your way to Daryl’s front door, knocking on it. Dogs bark alerts from inside and a few seconds later, the door swings open.

“Hey.”

“I need your help.”

He moves aside, allowing you to come in. Dog jumps up, earning a whimper from your lips and Daryl snaps, “Dog. Down.”

You turn around and Daryl’s eyes are moving up and down your body, “Please tell me that ain’t yer’blood.”

You force a small smile, laughing slightly as you raise your shirt, “I took a tumble, dealing with some walkers..” you turn and Daryl moves closer to you, “Looks like ya did more than that. Ya ain’t bit are ya?” His hand moves your shirt up more, slow and gentle.

You shake your head, “No, I’m not. I just fell on some rocks after taking down two of them.”

“Goddamn. A’right, hold on.”

You move to sit on the couch, wincing and groaning lowly as you do. Dog comes and sits between your knees, tilting his head back indicating he wants scratches. You laugh slightly, “Hi, boy.”

“A’right.” Daryl walks around and sits down behind you, “Can ya take that off?”

You nod, sliding your bag off of your shoulder and reaching for your shirt. You gasp, pausing as you tilt your head, “Shit.”

Daryl lays his hand on your not injured side, “Here. I’ll just cut it. Y’don’t like this shirt do ya?”

“Don’t make me laugh.” You sigh, “It hurts.”

“M’serious.” He mumbles, “M’gonna cut it.”

You hold still as he pushes the blade through the thin fabric, his knives were always sharp so it cut through easy, “There.” He pushes the split fabric open, “This is gonna hurt, M’sorry.”

You take a deep breath, trying to brace yourself, but that didn’t work. You grip the back of the couch, pushing your forehead against your bicep as you breathe through the pain, “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

“I know. I know.” He grips your shoulder with his free hand, dabbing off the blood with the cloth, “M’sorry, darlin’.” He rubs his thumb over your shoulder, “Almost done. Are ya hurt anywhere else?”

“My hip, but I think that’s just bruised.”

“Let me see.” He leans back, tossing the dirty cloth onto the coffee table. He helps you stand up and you undo your belt and jeans, pushing them down slightly, “How bad is it?”

“It ain’t good.” He shakes his head, “But jus’as y’said. It’s bruised.” He helps you sit back down, “I need t’clean that one more time, then I’ll bandage it up.”

You nod, “Go for it.” You grip the back of the couch, your other hand gripping your knee. The stinging pain returns and you let out a whine, arching your back away from him, “Sorry. Sorry.”

“I know it hurts. S’okay.” He holds your shoulder with his hand, “M’gonna patch ya up now.” He grabs gauze and the roll of medical tape, ripping some off with his teeth, “I’ll go get ya a shirt, you can sleep here t’night. Wanna make sure yer’good.”

You nod, biting your lip as he gently rubs his fingers over the tape, “A’right. Good?”

“I think so.” You nod, smiling as Dog comes back over.

“Be right back.” Daryl gets up and makes his way upstairs. You pat the couch for dog to come up and he jumps up, resting his head in your lap. Your fingers gently drag over his fur.

Daryl comes back down and stops when he sees the scene in front of him, “That dog loves you.”

“You seem jealous.” You tease and Daryl scoffs, “Nah, I ain’t jealous over no dog.” Dog perks his head up and looks at Daryl. You laugh, pointing at the animal, “He thinks different.”

“Fine, you can sleep down here with him then.”

“Now wait a minute.” You hold a finger up and Daryl tosses the shirt at you, “Yeah, that’s what I thought.” He smirks and reaches down to scratch Dog’s head. You go to stand up and Daryl moves around, helping you, “easy.”

“I’m good.” You nod, “Can you cut this the rest of the way, please?”

He nods, pulling out his knife. He grips the fabric and slices through it, “I’ll.. be upstairs.” He turns walking towards the steps, whistling, “Dog. Come on.”

You smirk as dog jumps down, running up the steps.

You pull the fabric of your shirt down, dropping it to the floor by your bag. You slip on Daryl’s shirt and kick off your shoes as you undo your jeans. They join the pile of your stuff and you walk over to the kitchen, washing up quick before making your way upstairs.

You walk into Daryl’s room, smirking as you see him lying there shirtless in bed, dog’s head resting on his chest, “Hey. Buddy. Make room.” Dog perks up, moving to the end of the bed and you crawl into bed, laying next to Daryl.

“C’mere boy.” You make a kissing sound with your lips and dog comes and lays next to you, Daryl on your other side.

“You and that damn Dog.” Daryl grumbles with a laugh, “I think you like him more than ya like me.”

“Not possible. He couldn’t have helped me like you did tonight, speaking of.” You turn your head, “Thank you for that, by the way.” He nods, “Not a problem.” He leans in pressing a kiss to your head, “just means ya owe me one.”

Here’s a kiss for likin’ and rebloggin’ 💋