#I LEGIT THOUGHT IT WAS JUST THE CHEEK

[luukka]

Was I supposed to know Annabeth and Rachel kissed Percy on the mouth or was I supposed to learn it after seeing a fanart of Annabeth kissing Percy based on a passage of book 2 (or 3 i forgot) on pinterest myself

[thebrainrotsreal]

Was pondering how Mark’s rigid ass mask/lens is prob a Budget Thing (since squishy, bendy lens are pretty much a mandate for all hero animated series, like JL, BTAS, TNBA, Spider-Man, etc), and then I was slapped with a vision of Mark in a more JL/BTAS-ish style and I had to see it through. I am a genius btw.

[thephantomsdream]

Can't stop thinking about Captain John Price, your good friend's boyfriend, listening to you talk about how you are considering getting a guard dog, and he whole-heartedly agrees with you. John likes you, you're a fantastic friend to his dove and you're sweet, and sweet girls do need protection. So he nods along and tells you he'll look into getting you one, a big one to protect you.

Two weeks later, you're invited to your friend's house, her telling you days before that John might have gotten you a dog, so to prepare! She wasn't sure, he just hinted at it on the phone.

Tell me why, after knocking at your bestie's door, she opens kinda pale and awkward, maybe even a little bit annoyed, inviting you in. Instead of a proper, legit, literal dog, John introduces you to Simon Riley, who stands there awkwardly but tall and intimidating while your friend apologizes, calling her boyfriend an idiot. But John isn't an idiot. For a while now, he thought you'd be perfect for his Lt., this just a funny way to introduce you both. And the only thing that took Simon to agree (after a sharp yet bored no when firstly asked) was to send him a picture of you at a bar, smiling.

Extra:

"So... you come with a leash?" You joke with the tall man, whose eyes wrinkle in amusement. He has been more on the silent side although very atentive, his intense brown eyes on you all evening. Now that you were both alone at the balcony, abandoned by the two love-birds, you tried to ease the tension.

"I don't do leashes but I can pull a spiky collar." He smiles as you giggle. Hell, he felt relief that you did. Even happiness...

"Yeah, it would fit you."

"Yeah?" His voice was low and buttery. "What about a tag with your name on it?" He leans down a little, just enough in your personal bubble, and your stomach flipped. You felt your cheeks warm.

"Can it be heart shaped?" You stare prettily at him and all he can do is to snort to ease the tension.

"However you want it." His reply was quick, eager.

"Deal. But first take me on a proper date."

"Perfect." He smirks.

[bernardsbendystraws]

⋆˚𝜗𝜚⋆ Doll .ᐟ Reader x Chris x Matt

Making a sex tape...

⚠︎ CHRATT AU, smut, raw p n v, filming, squirting, overstimulation, P!LINK at the end!!!

“O—oh, fuck!” you scream, your thighs aching from the relentless amount of pressure, each pulse of your heart echoing throughout your entire body.

“C’mon, Doll, you can take it,” Chris soothes,  holding one of your legs, forcing your pussy to be exposed as Matt pummels into you at an angle. 

The camera is propped in Chris’ free hand while Matt looks in the viewfinder, smirking as he sees the wetness of your folds captured perfectly.

This would come in handy. You thought about it long and hard when they proposed the idea of making a sex tape, and you really wanted it—not as much as they did, but it was fun to see you so eager to put on a show for them. 

“That’s it, Dolly, c’mon—smile for the camera, sweetheart,” Matt coos, petting the indent of his bulge inside your stomach as your mouth drops open with sinful moans. 

He’s so deep. The way Matt and Chris have you sprawled open leaves no buffer, leading Matt to reach deeper than he ever has before. 

Chris hesitantly reaches down. He knows you wanted to go slow since you were a bit camera shy at first, but your puffy clit is just begging for his touch and he needs to hear you scream.

Afterall, this film will be for them. Weather it was while they were traveling on tour or for the moments they had to suffer hearing you being fucked through the walls. It was all for them. 

And so is the absolute mess you’re making. 

Wet slick drips onto the bed sheets beneath you. Matt slows his pace enough to take a quick view at the way you’re leaking for him. Well, for them. 

Chris keeps his hand as steady as possible while holding the camera, his other hand keeping your thigh spread wide as the lewd slaps of skin echo through the room. 

“Chris, I—” your words are halted as Matt drives into you with a mind-numbing force, slowing his pace down so you truly feel every single thing. 

The jolts of your body makes Chris’ cock twitch. He leans down, swallowing around your nipple before pulling back up, staring at your fucked-out expression with lust. 

Chris takes matters into his own hands. He clutches your leg tighter, swinging your knee behind his neck. He spits on his fingers before placing them directly on your clit, your leg tightening behind his head as he smirks with pride. 

“There we go, good fuckin’ girl. Keep ‘em nice and spread, alright?” he tuts, circling the hooded bud, watching as it becomes swollen and exposed. 

They know they’re making you feel good. Screams and moans of ecstacy pushing through your lips tell them all the words you’re failing to say. 

Matt curses as your slick walls clamp around him, making it harder to plunge in and out of you. Leaning the slightest bit forward, he smiles sickly at the way you cry out for him, clutching onto anything and everything as your body twitches and jolts. 

“God—oh my—-Matt, Chris!” you scream, a clear liquid spraying everywhere. 

Matt groans, burying himself inside you deep before letting himself come undone. 

Chris is aching to be touched, any longer and he would've cum untouched, but someone had to catch everything on film and make sure it was perfect. 

However, he may have gotten a little distracted at the end…

“Chris!” Matt swats at him, taking the camera to see the viewfinder fogged by your liquids covering the camera. 

“What’s wrong?” you ask, your words slurred as you try to peep open your eyes. 

Chris smiles sympathetically, wiping the stray hair on your face behind your ear before petting over your cheek sweetly. “You got another round in you, Doll?”

A/N: Inspired by all the horny anons in my inbox last night. Here's a couple links from them (ily) also @sturnioz this is me doing ur cam request (im so sorry I legit forgot 😭)

P!LINK - link - link - link

·˚ ༘ ʚ 𝑾𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒃𝒊𝒈 𝒕𝒊𝒕𝒔, 𝑹𝒐𝒔𝒆 𖧧

꒰ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ๑ 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ๑ 𝐂𝐎𝐏𝐘𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 ꒱

[quarterlifekitty]

Okay but imagine your first call as a service omega is for price and instead of him picking the lock on the collar he just decides to show this omega what it's like to be cared for by a proper gentleman and by the end of it omega reader is legit sad at the thought of leaving him so they take their own collar off and tempt Price into biting them.

Poor thing doesn't know that was his plan all along.

You know, I knew this rung a bell, so I searched, and I found it! There’s a similar fic written by our beloved syoddeye. Always with the bangers, that one. But that one had price a little more mean and forthright!

In your prompt, anon, I’m imagining him to be incepting the idea and acting disgustingly sweet. He pulls up the covers when you’re on his knot, feeds you fruit slices and chocolates by hand, his lips kissing and grazing your neck around the guard. And he’s laying on the praise thicker than science previously suggested was possible.

“You’re my sweet, pretty little thing, aren’t you, dove? So wet and warm— y’feel like pure heaven. Perfect f’me.”

He’s all lingering caresses and massaging palms. His remarkable self control means that even in a rut, he can take his time and fuck you nice and slow, deep enough to coax pleasured tears from you— just in time for him to coo and fuss over you, wiping them with his thumb and kissing your heated cheeks. Your squirt has painted over his jaw and his hips at least a half dozen times by now.

When his rut winds down and it’s finally becoming time for you to go, when he takes you for one last time, you start to cry in earnest. He’s all sweet, shushing murmurs and worried eyes, petting you and holding you close to his chest when he hears it.

A weak little voice saying “I don’t wanna go.”

Your shaking hands fumbling with the lock and slipping off the collar guard, baring for him. That tender, sweet smelling patch of softened flesh aching to be pierced, exposed to him, the scent from it finally uninhibited and maddening. It takes all of his willpower to hold back one last time.

“You sure, darl’? This one’s for keeps. Can’t take it back, sweetheart.”

“Please. I wanna stay. Please, alpha.” He tuts and sighs one last time.

“How can I say no to my angel? ‘Specially when you ask like that…. Dry those tears, love. You’re not going anywhere.”

He bites down.

[k-hotchoisan]

missing piece

<seonghwa x fem!Reader>

Building legos is important business and Seonghwa knows that very well when he realises he’s missing a piece.

So who would’ve thought two people attempting to search for one Lego piece would lead to other things?

genres/warnings: smut, pwp, softdom!seonghwa, missing Lego piece (don’t worry it’ll get found later), dirty talk, it’s legit teeth rotting fluff and smut, unprotected sex, breeding kink, established relationship, mild choking, clit stimulation

a/n: another fic exchange with @bro-atz 😎👊🏻 it’s a competition of who can kill each other faster and we both LOSING. love u bro <3 and also finally serving you all the softdom! Seonghwa you all deserve 😛 enjoy my loves 🩷

read bro’s one here 💘

wc: 1.9K

‘A couple activity idea’—apparently the amount of countless generic couple websites would list this idea. 

Yeah, this would qualify for a couple activity idea casually, not when it seemed like a big business deal when it came to Park Seonghwa. 

Seonghwa had the ambiance set, his station ready—the Animal Crossing Soundtrack Playlist with Rain playing through the speakers, his desk clean and white—only stacked with the Animal Crossing Lego sets prepared to to be unboxed, in his favourite oversized shirt, and not forgetting you, who he dragged into his room to watch him build his little building block empire—comfortably seated across him on his bed. 

You didn’t mind watching your partner build the latest Animal Crossing Lego set he just easily blew a couple of hundred on hours before. You watched his inner child take form when he made you sit down with him to watch him unbox the first set he was gonna build, his eyes large and twinkling, just like his Animal Crossing character in-game.

Seonghwa hums softly, and it’s definitely his favourite soundtrack from the game. From time to time, Seonghwa would make the little critter noises his animal villagers would make while he fixes the animal villagers and you can’t help but giggle whenever he does the impressions. He’s finished a cherry tree, making sure he flailed his wrists to get your attention. Your lips pull to a smile when your eyes land on the pretty cherry tree he built, reflecting his satisfaction with his plump lips too. 

Then he’s back to his workstation, and you’re absorbed back into playing your switch. 

“This set is pretty easy”, you hear him comment. 

“Is it?” You reply, your attention focused on trying to slay the beast. 

“Yeah. I think I could finish this in another half an hour.” He sounds confident. 

“Good luck with that sweetheart”, you respond, your eyes trailing back to your game. 

Then midway through, Seonghwa demands your attention again, and this time you watch the way his eyes light up the whole damn room when he shows you the way the little Lego letter fits into its little Lego mailbox. Not gonna lie, it was a very adorable detail. He yaps about it for a good seven minutes before he sinks back into his building block world. 

“Now here’s the million dollar question—pink or brown for the door?” He asks, loosely fitting both coloured doors after one another 

“Pink, obviously”, you pick. Seonghwa seems satisfied with your answer, and you swear you see the little musical notes float out of him when he fixes the door onto the house. 

A couple more minutes later, you glance over at the messy pieces of Lego strewn all over Seonghwa’s table, below his half-completed Animal Crossing cottage. 

He has his cheeks puffed out, and his eyebrows knitted together while he’s carefully scanning over the table. 

“Are you missing a piece?” You ask, setting your console on the bed. 

“Yeah, I think I am”, Seonghwa mutters, his index finger pointing over each piece on the table, in hopes of finding it. 

You take the instruction booklet from his hands, skimming through the pictures before you settle it down onto the desk, your eyes laser-focused onto the mess too. 

“Do you wanna come over to my side instead? Maybe you can spot it better from this view”, you suggest, which Seonghwa takes, so he shuffles over to the bed, and moves to sit right where you are—and now you’re on his lap, with his chest pressing right against your back as he towers over you, arms hugging you from behind. He continues to search for the missing Lego piece. 

You take part in the search too, the game completely forgotten by then. You realise it’s nice just having Seonghwa sitting close to you like this. Maybe this was what they meant by building Lego as “a couple activity”.

“Did you drop it or something?” You ask, shifting slightly to have a better view of the floor. You hear Seonghwa grunt behind you, but you pay no attention, focusing on finding the piece. 

Seonghwa swears he’s focused on looking for the missing piece too—he really wants to complete the set, but at the same time, he’s watching and feeling you move against him on top of the way he’s able to wrap his arms around you easily, smelling his scent on you—it’s not helping his case. He bites his bottom lip, trying to manage himself. 

Obviously, it does nothing, considering he’s having you in such close proximity, and every movement you’re brushing against him is starting to make him grow sensitive. 

His hand snakes down to your thighs, drawing circles, his other hand sifting through the endless pieces of Lego. 

He forces himself to concentrate, and it works for a split second, that is, until you absentmindedly shift his free arm on under your loose shirt, and he snaps. 

“If this is your way of breaking my concentration, you’re doing a good job”, you hear his deep voice ringing in your ears. He’s letting his hands roam all over your body hidden underneath your shirt, his fingers grazing against your nipples teasingly, and it draws gasps out of you. 

“Focus on finding the block, Park Seonghwa”, you tease, readjusting yourself, making sure you press against his growing erection underneath his loose shorts. 

It’s Seonghwa’s turn to draw a shaky breath every time your clothed ass comes into contact with his erection.

You pretend to ignore him, but you can’t ignore the way he’s massaging your tits, and you find yourself sighing and growing hotter through each passing moment. 

You think he’s finally giving you a break, but you’re proven wrong when his hands are sliding down the waistband of your shorts. 

“You’re not finding the block, Angel”, Seonghwa points out, and you pout at his words. Your hand slips under the large opening of his shorts and fuck—his erection is only growing thicker. 

You hear him groan behind you when you let your hands wander to stroke his cock through his underwear. So he retaliates with his finger sliding past your panties, cursing when he realises your pussy is growing wetter by the second.  

“We’re supposed to be looking for the Lego piece, Hwa”, you mutter, mind growing hazy as his fingers get drenched from your slick, circling your clit gently. 

“Mmhm. We are, baby. You’re just not focusing”, Seonghwa replies, his index and middle finger spreading your folds open letting his index finger find your clit more easily, and it’s driving you fucking crazy. 

Your legs push open automatically, your hands pausing stroking him off, well, not that Seonghwa minded. 

“That feels so good”, you sigh. Seonghwa’s other hand cups your jaw, and you turn to face him, feeling the way his hands slide down your throat while Seonghwa has your lips on his, eating up your whines and moans before letting you catch your breath.

“So fuckin wet for me, Angel. You like it that much?” He teases. 

“Mmhm, your fingers feel so good Hwa”, you nod, your grip around his arm tightening as the pleasure builds in your stomach every time his finger strokes against your clit. At this point, you can’t even pretend.  

His lips are pressed against your ear, his voice deep yet you sense traces of whining in his tone when he says, “Sit on my dick. I need you on my fucking dick now, Angel.” 

Of course, you comply, despite your legs trembling slightly, letting Seonghwa slip out of his bottoms. His arm is wrapped around your waist, pulling you impossibly close to him, his lips making a whole garden of bites down your neck before he has both his hands lift your hips. 

Seonghwa lines himself against your fluttering cunt and he pushes himself into your pussy hole, his moans of relief sending you into a spiral on top of his cock sinking into you. 

Fuck, he’s filling you up so fucking good. 

“Fuck. That’s it, babe. You’re so fucking good”, he groans when you squeeze against him. 

“Hwa, oh my fucking god, you’re so full in me”, you sob, trying to adjust to his length. 

“Do you think we can find the piece better like this?” He jokes while peppering kisses down your neck to distract himself so he doesn’t fucking just burst in you just yet. 

Even in your pleasured haze, you still manage to laugh while you try to keep your eyes open. 

“I think we can”, you reply with a giggle, before squealing when you feel him twitch in you. You shift forward slightly, feeling his cock shift in you, dragging along your walls, a small whine escaping past your lips. 

With the last of your sanity remaining, you glance over the desk one more time, biting your lip to stay grounded, obviously to no avail, especially not with Seonghwa and his little movement behind you. 

“I really think it’s-fuck-not here”, Seonghwa mutters behind you, forcing himself not to thrust into you, his fingers slithering down to your wet clit once more. 

“I’m pretty sure it d-dropped. We haven’t checked the floor yet-ngh-right?” you manage to ask.

“Mmmm nope”, Seonghwa responds, mesmerised at the way your slick growing thicker on your clit and on his cock as he continues to rub your clit. “I guess we can do that later ‘cause I really need to fuck your pussy right now, Angel.” 

He doesn’t give you much time to answer because you’re a complete goner when Seonghwa is making you bounce off his cock while he gets you off with his fingers. 

You’re trembling from the sheer pleasure, your vision slowly growing hazy, the knot tightening in your abdomen more quickly than you thought. 

“H-Hwa! Gonna cum-Oh fuckkkk”, you draw out, white clouding your vision. Your cunt flutters around his cock, dopamine shooting up your body while you completely let go on his cock as Seonghwa fucks you through your orgasm.

“Fuck, you’re such a good fucking girl. “That’s it. Be a good girl and cum on my dick like that, Angel”, Seonghwa groans into your ear, his gaze traveling down at the way your thick cream streaks down his cock when he pulls out. He shuts his eyes, sighing into the nape of your neck while he listens to the way your cunt is just so loud and wet for him while he fucks your cream out of you, thrusting his hips upwards. 

“God, your pussy feels so fucking perfect. Fuck. I’m gonna cum. Gonna fill you up so good baby”, he pants before his hips thrust and press against yours, filling you up with his warm and thick cum accompanied by his low groans. 

You feel Seonghwa’s hands run down your body, soothing you after emptying his fucking load into you before he slowly pulls out of your cum-filled pussy. 

“I’ll get you a towel, Angel”, Seonghwa tells you, pressing his lips on your temple before leaving the bed. 

He retrieves a spare towel from the bathroom and cleans you up, before releasing you to wash up in the bathroom. 

When you renter his room, Seonghwa is switching gazes between his half-completed set and the instruction manual. 

He looks up at you with a grin that’s making you feel uneasy. 

“Babe, turns out I wasn’t missing a piece—I already had it in all along!”

Taglist: @bro-atz @diamond-3 @mcarebearsstuff @choisansplushie @pre1ttyies @songmingisthighs @yeosangiess @mylovelymito @softwsan @yourlocaljonghoe @itza-meee @ywtf @jeon-ify @miss-fallon @bunnyluvr25 @eggyboy5 @hourswithoutyou @iwishiwasthemoontonight @yunhogrippers @watermelon2319 @vampiregirl215 @kibs-and-bits @s-h-y-a @luvt0kki @httpseungmxn @vic0921 @sanhwajoong @bitejoongie @no1likevie @woojirang @jjoongstar @yuyusgirl

[girlgenius1111]

Alexia, bedroom, “do you not love me anymore”

i’m picturing like r is on her period and hormonal and irrational or something similar, not like legit angst where she actually thinks that

pain relief

alexia putellas x reader

You were curled up into a tiny ball on the couch when Alexia walked through the door, as if making yourself small enough would rid your abdomen and back of the pulsing pain currently afflicting it. Fading blonde hair hanging slightly damp around her shoulders, your girlfriend frowned sympathetically, dropping her bag by the door and kicking her shoes off. 

Any other day, you would have scolded her for the haphazard way she left her stuff, but today you didn’t have it in you. Instead, you just gazed at your girlfriend, the deep frown on your own face and the position of your body enough to tell Alexia just how badly you were feeling. 

“Hi there.” She greeted, walking over to you and sitting on the very edge of the couch. Her hand cupped your cheek, her lips pressing against yours in a chaste kiss. “Not feeling any better?” 

“No.” You replied, voice wavering as the comforting sight of your girlfriend in front of you only increased the pity you felt for yourself. 

“I’m sorry, amor.” Alexia whispered, smiling softly as you leaned into her touch. Still, her eyes flitted about the surrounding area, taking in the lack of water, the lack of any plate or bowl, the lack of your heating pad or any pain medications. You were always stubborn about allowing Alexia to care for you, pushing her out the door to training that morning insisting that you could get everything you needed yourself. 

The blonde didn’t enjoy training half as much without you there, and she’d been suitably distracted by the thought of you home all by yourself, in pain. It seemed her fears hadn’t been unfounded. 

“Have you eaten?”

You shook your head.

“Taken any medicine?” 

Another head shake. 

“Water? Heating pad? Anything?” Again, you shook your head, and Alexia’s frown deepened. “Amor–”

“I was going to eat and take something but then I laid down and I didn’t want to get up.” You explained, a few tears sliding down your cheeks as your lip quivered. “Sorry.” 

Your girlfriend sighed. “Don’t be sorry, bebita. I just wish you’d let me do more for you when you aren’t well.” 

“I can handle it.” You said the statement automatically, though you were painfully aware it made no sense; you were still curled up into a ball on your side, unwilling to move even as you craved the comfort of Alexia’s arms wrapping around you, knowing full well movement from this position would hurt. 

Alexia fixed you with a look, one that told you she wasn’t in the mood for you to be stoic and try to push through the pain. “You haven’t moved from the couch since I left. You cannot handle it.” 

Still, you were nothing if not stubborn, forcing your body out to uncurl and sit up, a pained wince flickering across your face. Alexia rolled her eyes, but helped you sit up anyway, her arm around your shoulders pulling you into her. 

“You’re being absurd. You don’t need to take care of everything yourself, not when I’m around.” Alexia told you. She craned her neck to kiss your forehead, her hand rubbing large circles into your back. You melted against her, practically, tucking your face into her sweatshirt. Almost as soon as you’d gotten comfortable, though, another spike of pain shot through your abdomen. You groaned, falling backwards onto the couch and rolling back up into your ball. 

“Oh, amor.” Alexia sighed. “What can I do?” 

“Heating pad.” You replied, voice muffled by the couch cushion your face was pressing into. 

Alexia got to her feet right away, hurrying off to get a heating pad. She returned quickly, gently nudging you until you stretched back out and allowed her to push your shirt up, placing the heating pad across your stomach. She turned the heating pad on, resting her hands over it to carefully press it into your skin. Alexia worried her lip between her teeth, gazing down at you with worry clouding her face. 

“Has it been like this all day?” She wondered. 

You shrugged noncommittaly in response and your girlfriend sighed again. You knew what she was going to say before she said it, but that didn’t help the disappointment you felt in yourself when she spoke. “Amor, they are getting worse.” Alexia murmured, running her thumb back and forth over your cheekbone. 

“I know.” You whispered. 

Alexia didn’t understand, couldn’t understand why you refused to make the phone call to see your doctor, and address the horrific periods you’d been having. There was some kind of mental block for you, and it was simply a task you couldn’t get done. Instead, you pushed it off and pushed it off until another period rolled around and you were practically bedridden for the first day. You knew Alexia was only frustrated because she hated to see you in pain, but a part of you wondered if, really, she was just tired of dealing with how moody and uncomfortable you got around this time of the month. 

Of course, this wasn’t the case at all. 

“I am so sorry you are in so much pain.” Alexia said slowly, as if able to physically see the doubts creeping into your head. “I wish I could take it away.” 

The thing was, Alexia knew that you knew what needed to be done to get yourself on track to feeling better. Nagging you about it wouldn’t do anything but make you feel worse. 

“I’ll call tomorrow.” You told her. It was something you’d said before, but the look on your face had Alexia oddly convinced that you really would call tomorrow. 

Your girlfriend’s eyes crinkled slightly as she smiled down at you, happy to see the evident pain fading from your face as the heating pad made the muscles in your stomach relax somewhat. Mentally, she checked one item off the list of things she could do to make you feel better, absolutely dead set on making your pain go away.

—

Alexia was quite successful in relieving your pain for the most part, magically caring individual that she was. It was later that evening, after Alexia had made your favorite for dinner and put her favorite show on the TV because ‘relationships were about compromise, mi amor,’  that you came to the conclusion of the one thing that would truly improve your still somewhat foul mood.  

“What is it?” Alexia asked, pausing the show after you shifted in her arms and sighed for the 5th time in the last 2 minutes. 

“Nothing.” You replied, feeling as though you’d already imposed too much upon your girlfriend so far that day. Alexia tugged the hood down from where it was pulled up over your head, tilted your face towards hers, and raised a single eyebrow in your direction. 

“I really want ice cream.” You admitted, blushing at the grin that pulled at your girlfriend’s lips. “But you made dinner, and and we’re comfortable and–” 

“I’ll get ice cream, amor, of course.” Alexia promised. “I can order it and then I don’t have to leave you.” 

Your heart melted a bit at that and you sunk even further into her embrace. Alexia opened the delivery app, clicking on your favorite ice cream shop and adding your order, which she somehow knew by heart, to the cart. You smiled into her sweatshirt… until she clicked check out. Without adding anything for herself. 

Craning your neck to look up at her, you frowned. “You… you don’t want any?” 

“No, I’m okay.” Alexia said absentmindedly, her hand gently trying to push your head to lay back on her chest. Instead, you sat up. “Amor?” 

Alexia looked up at you finally, her face falling as she noticed the tears welling in your eyes. 

“Hey, hey, hey, no crying. What’s wrong? Tell me, I’ll make it better.” Alexia cooed, taking your face in between her hands and peppering kisses across your cheeks. 

“You- you don’t want any ice cream.” You sniffled pathetically. “Do you not love me anymore?” 

Alexia would have laughed if you didn’t look so completely serious. “Bebita, I love you with my whole entire heart, I just do not feel like ice cream tonight.” 

You scoffed in response, crossing your arms over your chest and stubbornly looking away from your girlfriend. Alexia’s lip twitched, but she maintained a serious expression, using a single finger to tilt your face back towards her. 

“Are you… are you crying because I won’t eat ice cream with you?” She wondered softly, her voice amazingly free of any judgment or amusement. 

As if only realizing now how absurd you were being, your face flushed and you wiped furiously at your eyes. “God, I am. What’s wrong with me?!” 

“That is a long list, amor, how much time do you have?” 

You glared at her, but she gave you a dopey smile in response, leaning forward with her lips puckered for a kiss. You obliged, sinking back into her arms and snuggling your face into her neck. 

“You don’t have to get any ice cream.” You sighed. 

Alexia hummed, thinking for a moment. “Well, if you are going to cry about it, I may as well.” 

You poked her stomach, feeling her chest vibrate under your head as she chuckled. She must have finished the order, because she dropped her phone onto the coffee table and wrapped her arms snuggly back around you. Alexia pressed a kiss to the top of your head, playing the show again and considering how she could pretend to eat her ice cream but really sneak it into the freezer, because ice cream had been making her stomach hurt recently. With how clingy you were being, Alexia wasn’t sure she’d be successful, but she’d live. What was a stomach ache, compared to the happy smile on your face she knew she’d get to see soon. 

—

[hitomisuzuya]

Scara waking up to a needy reader sitting on his chest patting his head wanting to be eaten out? After she was making out with him when he was like, asleep to half asleep and playing with his cheeks and stuff because he's cute and she's cute and they find EACH OTHER CUTE?

scaramouche x fem!reader. smut. cunnilingus. fluffy fluff fluff. soft!scara.

i am feeling kinda really down, and writing this made me feel a little better. i hope everyone is well.

it is extremely rare for you to wake up before scaramouche. his arm around you kept you possessively tucked against him, like he was afraid someone was going to snatch you away from him in the middle of the night.

you sat up as gingerly as possible, smiling softly at his oddly serene expression. you are instantly struck by how lucky you are. you reach up and brush some hair out of his eyes before you straddled him.

"you are beautiful, do you know that?" you murmur, leaning down to press a soft kiss on his lips. "and amazing," you kiss one of his cheeks, "and so strong," you kiss his other cheek. "you are the center of my world," you give him another soft kiss. "and i love you. i love you so much," another kiss, this time lingering.

if scaramouche woke up and legit asked you to go the altar with him, like right now, right this second, you would. no questions asked.

pulling away, you look down at his mouth. even his mouth is beautiful. a mouth that could do so many things. things that made your pussy clench and wet dampen your panties when you thought about it.

your lips hover over his again, gingerly rolling your hips down into his lap. you are starting to feel very, very needy.

"hm. cute," you let out a startled squeak as scaramouche opens his eyes, smirking a little up at you. through the haze of grogginess, he'd heard every word you said.

oh please, go on. he knows how great he is.

he chuckles softly seeing your reaction. "it's always nice to wake up to something cute in the morning," he is entirely teasing, which only flustered you more.

"sc-scara, i, uh, was just-" you began, a blush dusting your cheeks. you really are cute when you are embarrassed. he decided to let the cute unfold and let your embarrassment play out. you are just way too adorable for him not to.

you sigh, and squeeze your thighs together. "and i just really want you to eat me out," you conclude, looking away shyly. you truly hadn't known the definition of what needy is until you got together with scaramouche.

scaramouche taps your hip, a signal for you to roll off of him. no sooner had you roll off of him onto your back and spread your legs, he is slotted between your thighs, moving your panties aside. he hums in sleepy approval tasting how wet you are as he parts your folds with his tongue. "so needy for me, even early in the morning. adorable."

you shiver as his tongue glides over your clit. "u-use your tongue, right there. please," you moan softly, raising your hips to grind your swelling clit on his tongue. you card your fingers through his soft hair in encouragement.

scaramouche groans sleepily into your pussy as you tug on his hair, gently pushing his mouth down more onto your cunt. he flattens his tongue on your clit, kitten licking and swirling, lazily bullying the sensitive nub. he always gives his precious girl what she wants.

your moans become more consistent the more your clit throbs. his warm, greedy tongue laps long, indulging stripes up and down your pussy. moving his tongue back up to your clit, he stroked your thighs soothingly when you start to whimper.

you offer yourself so sweetly, how could he possibly resist indulging himself?

pleasure burst behind your eyes, the tip of his tongue prodding methodically at your clit while he sucks is making you see literal stars. he vibrates a lewd moan of bliss on your pussy, you always get so wet when he works your clit over.

his eyes nearly roll into the back of his head feeling your pretty pussy clutch his tongue like a glove as he sweeps it inside you. "fuck, pretty. you taste so good," he groans, lapping at your hole. he was already hard when he woke up, getting harder still the more your sweet juices saturate his tongue.

you gasp softly, your orgasm starting to build in your core. "ah, scara! only your tongue can make me feel this good!" you cry out, your legs shaking as you shamelessly grind your pussy on his mouth.

his grip tightens on your thighs, his cock pulsing and leaking precum. you are oh so good for his ego. you are so close to cumming he can taste it. feel it in the way you are twitching.

"ah, ah, make me cum, scara! please!" you whimper desperately, holding his mouth down on your pussy as he returns his tongue to your poor, neglected clit.

"it sounds so good when you cry for me," he moans, kitten licking your clit and sending your walls to clamp around nothing. you writhe restlessly, the building of your orgasm stealing the breath from your lungs as you moan.

scaramouche nearly cums tasting you squirting on his tongue, sweeping it back inside of you to taste you cumming. lapping up your release, he sucked on your pussy, determined to overstimulate you before he makes you cum again.

[holdinggrudges]

oxytocin - sam winchester

pairing: sam winchester x reader

content: EXPLICIT 18+, porn without plot, genuinely there is no plot, fem!reader, established relationship, fingering, unprotected p in v sex, edging, dom/sub dynamics like..a little bit, soft dom sam, size kink but also only a little bit, no use of y/n

word count: 2.3k

summary: Sam has a thing about control. So when the pieces don’t quite fall into place—when a hunt goes a little sideways, for example—Sam can get a little…twitchy. Antsy, irritable. What you’ve learned, though, is that it’s all too easy to give him back that control. To let him take it from you.

notes: i thought this was finished two days ago and then ended up writing, like, a thousand more words. whoops. anyways uhhh...i've never written anything quite like this before (this is my first ever legit pwp lmao) so uhh if it sucks don't tell me i'll cry.

crossposted on ao3

Sam has a thing about control. You can’t fault him, of course; it’s actually sickening to think about how often his autonomy, his freedom of choice, has been wrested from him. Him turning into a bit of a control freak seems, frankly, like the best case scenario. It does mean that when the pieces don’t quite fall into place—when a hunt goes a little sideways, for example—Sam can get a little…twitchy. Antsy, irritable; you love him to death, but he’s a damn terror to be around when a hunt doesn’t go your way. What you’ve learned, though, is that it’s all too easy to give him back that control. To let him take it from you.

Two thick fingers press into your cunt, slow and leisurely, like he’s got all the time in the world, like you’re not falling apart in his lap. Like he doesn’t have you so wet it’s probably dripping down his wrist. He has your legs hooked over his, keeping you spread and open for him as he teases you. His smirk presses to your temple, your cheek, just below your ear as he plasters your face with soft kisses. “You’re doing so good,” he mutters, his lips brushing against your neck with the praise. “So perfect for me, you sound so pretty like this. Tell me when you’re close, okay, baby?” 

God, you’re not sure you’ll ever get there like this. “Sam, please.” You’re not above begging, not in the slightest, especially not right now. You feel like you’ve been here for hours, panting and whining on Sam’s lap. For fuck’s sake, you’ve still got your sweater on.

You feel more than hear the little laugh your whine drags out of Sam, a rumble in his chest where you’re plastered against him, a puff of air against your throat. “You need some help? Hmm?” he asks, dragging his unoccupied hand up your stomach and rucking your sweater up as he does. At the same time, his fingers curl inside you, stealing your breath and sending your head lolling back on his shoulder. 

“God—” Your hands scramble to grab onto something, anything, searching for purchase. In the end, one lands on Sam’s wrist as his hand cups your breast, the other grasping at the sheets below you, twisting them in your grip. 

His thumb brushes over your nipple, drawing a choked whimper from your throat. “Answer me, baby. Can you come like this, or do you need more?” 

How are you even supposed to think like this, let alone speak? “Fuck, Sam—” you manage to babble out, turning your head to hide in the crook of his neck. The smell of him floods your senses, pine and musk and just a little bit of sweat that lets you know he’s not as unaffected as he pretends to be. “More. I need more, please.” 

“There you go,” Sam coos at you. Then he shifts the angle of his hand so the meat of his palm grinds against your clit with every thrust of his fingers, dragging a guttural moan from your throat in the process. “That wasn’t so hard, was it? My good girl.” 

Curses spill from your lips like a chant as everything ramps up tenfold and leaves you struggling to keep up. Sam’s fingers, practised and precise, drag against your g-spot with every thrust and, combined with the pressure against your clit, they have you moaning and babbling incoherent pleas in moments. Your chest heaves with your panting, gasping breaths as the pressure in your gut grows and twists and builds until it threatens to send you careening over the edge. 

Sam’s wrist twists in your grip until you release it, letting that hand fall to white-knuckle the sheets below you with the other one. With his hand newly free, Sam draws his fingertips along your jaw and tilts your head up until he can see your face. “You’re so beautiful,” he says, sweet as candy, as if he’s not taking you apart. “Talk to me, baby. How’re we doin’?” 

Oh, he’s such a dick; he knows how you’re doing. Your pussy is pulsing around his fingers like a heartbeat, he knows damn well. He just wants you to say it. But you know what game you’re playing. “Sam…”

He presses his thumb to your lips, and his turn down on a frown that you know—you know—is performative, but that puppy look still digs its claws into your head. “Come on.” 

“Oh, fuck—” Sam curls his fingers, and your gut pulls so tight you almost forget to breathe. “Okay, I’m close, God, Sam, please—” You know it's coming, but it still comes as a stone cold shock to your system when Sam’s fingers still inside you and the pressure of his palm disappears from your clit. Your cunt flutters as the bliss that had been moments away fades out of reach; your thighs futilely trying to close, press together, but you're stopped by Sam’s legs holding them open. 

Sam carefully unsheathes his fingers from your cunt, and you could damn near sob.

He coos over the sound of your whine. “I know. But you're so pretty like this, sweetheart, so good for me.” His hand leaves your face to catch yours as you reach down to finish the job yourself, bringing it up to press a kiss to your knuckles. “Uh-uh. You trust me, don't you, pretty girl? I’ll take care of you.”

  You narrow your eyes, glaring even as you twist your hand to tangle your fingers with his. “You’re evil.” 

His laugh puffs over your lips as he leans down to press a quick kiss to them. It’s a little uncoordinated, and certainly not the best angle. But it’s a sweet apology. “Maybe I just thought you'd rather come on my cock.” 

Your next inhale is sharp, a response to the way his words make your neglected pussy flutter. You twist a little further, your nose bumping his with how close you are. “Are you gonna let me?” you ask, and your lips brush against his as you speak. 

He hums, and his eyes crinkle with the grin that he presses to your lips. “Say please—” he murmurs, the words washing over you like a wave— “and maybe I will.” Your hand tightens around his.

God, but if the power trip doesn't look good on him. The word comes out on a breath, just barely a whisper of, “Please.” 

Sam swallows the plea with a kiss, draws a gasp out of you as his teeth sink into your bottom lip and tug as he pulls away. “Please…what?” he urges, dragging a line of hot, open kisses along your jaw and down the line of your neck. “Come on. You want it, don’t you? Use your words.” 

You tip your head back, and you’re sure Sam feels you swallow around your need because the next kiss he lands on your throat is biting. “Please,” you say again, “please let me come on your cock.” 

Sam’s smile against your throat is so bright it almost burns, and he releases your hand from his grip. “Anything for you, baby.” He presses one last kiss to the base of your neck before his hands come up under your thighs, lifting you off his lap. “Come on.” 

You help him maneuver you until you’re laying on your back on the bed, and you take the opportunity to stretch your legs out, groaning at the stiffness from having them in that position for so long.

Sam kneels beside you, his hands squeezing at your thighs. “You alright?” he asks. His hands smooth up your legs to your hips before he draws them back down again in a pseudo-massage. 

You nod. “I’m okay,” you tell him, and then you let your thighs fall open to make room for him. You get the pleasure of watching his eyes snap from your face to your cunt, his pupils swallowing his irises whole. “Want you.” 

He lifts his gaze to yours again, and he holds it as he hooks his fingers under the waistband of his boxers and pulls them down and off.  “Whatever you want, beautiful,” he says, climbing over you and settling with his hips between your thighs before he pulls his shirt over his head. He tosses it aside and braces his hand beside your head.

Entirely shameless, you reach out to press a hand to his chest, admiring the solid planes of his stomach flexing as he holds himself up to hover above you. His muscles shift, a body perfectly designed to drag the tip of his cock through your folds. Your breath catches in your chest, your hand smoothing up and over his shoulders to tangle your fingers in his hair. 

He smiles, then his hand settles on your thigh. “C’mere,” he mutters, drawing your leg up over his hip. Your other leg follows suit, your ankles crossing. Keeping him close. “There you go.” With that, he presses inside you. He slides in easy—you weren’t exactly hurting for prep—but the stretch of your cunt around him still has you groaning in tandem with him. 

“Fuck, Sam—” you gasp as he bottoms out, his hips kissing yours. Somehow, you always manage to forget just how big he is until you’re so full you feel like you can feel him in your throat. 

Sam’s hand that’s not currently holding him up drags the hem of your sweater up until it’s bunched around your shoulders, leaving you, essentially, bare for him. He trails his fingers down your torso, watching the goosebumps that bloom on your stomach as he traces your skin. “Good?” he asks, his voice tight with the effort of keeping still inside you. 

“Yeah. So fucking full,” you moan, your eyes fluttering shut as his hand cups your breast. “But yeah, I’m good.” 

“Good.” He draws out, dragging along your walls until only the tip is left inside, and you brace for the punch of the next thrust. But it never comes. He lingers, teasing, until you open your eyes to see him smirking down at you. “You wanna beg for it?” 

“Oh, fuck off,” you groan, pressing your heels into his back in an effort to press him forward. He doesn’t budge. 

“I think you’re gonna,” he says, ducking his head to press his lips to the hinge of your jaw. “You wanna come? All you have to do is say please—” He brushes his thumb over your pebbled nipple, pulling a whimper from your throat— “and then I’ll fuck you so good, you know I will. Just let me hear it.” 

You turn your head to face him, staring him down, breathing in his air as you consider his proposal. You lift your head to brush your lips against his. “Please fuck me.” If you hadn’t been paying attention, you wouldn’t have noticed, but his hand flexes just so where he’s cupping your chest. “Sam. Please.” 

Sam draws you into a proper kiss at the same time he slams home into you. Although, a proper kiss is maybe not the best way to describe it. It’s more Sam licking into your open, panting mouth, swallowing the desperate, airy moans that his thrusts are punching out of you. The pace he sets isn’t fast, but it’s deep, and with his tongue on your mouth and his hand on your tits, it feels like you can feel him everywhere, like there isn’t a single part of your body that isn’t being consumed by him. 

“My beautiful girl,” Sam rasps as he pulls away. He drags kisses down your neck, and then skips right over the bulk of your sweater to scrape his teeth over your nipple at the same time his fingers pinch at the other. Your chest spasms on a sobbing moan, your nails scraping down his back, aching for purchase. The feeling is overwhelming, lighting up every nerve ending you have until the only thing you can think about is Sam—Sam’s mouth on your chest, Sam’s voice soothing heated skin, Sam’s fucking cock taking you apart. “You sound so wrecked, baby, look at you.” 

“Sam—” His name drips from your lips like a mantra, over and over and over like it’s the only thing you can say anymore. You’re so close, teetering so close to the edge that a light breeze could push you over. “God, please—” 

His hand abandons your chest, smoothing down your ribs and over your hip bone. “I got you. I said I’d take care of you, didn’t I?” he says, and then he flattens his tongue over your nipple as he shoves his hand between your bodies to rub at your clit. 

It’s over—your whole body trembles with it, and you cry out as your orgasm crashes over you. Sam’s hips stutter where he’s fucking you through it, and then you feel him spill into you, the spasms of your pleasure having pulled him off the cliff right along with you. 

“Oh, fuck—there you go,” he gasps, his hips slowing to a stop as you both ride out the recovery. “So perfect, so good for me.” 

With the last of your energy, you lift your hands to his face to drag him into a spent, sloppy kiss. “Took such good care of me,” you mutter into his mouth, shivering while he takes the opportunity to carefully slide out of you. “Love you so much.” 

In a few minutes, the two of you will have to stumble out of bed to the bathroom, clean up and truly recover. But right now, Sam’s smile against your lips warms your chest enough to forget about his cum dripping from your cunt. “Love you too.” 

[bueckers-sturniolo]

tiktok trends w/ p!

warnings : legit none, just a cutesy little fic i wrote

authors note: im back from the dead. senior year has kicked my ass.

you scroll through tiktok aimlessly, laid on the couch. paige is sitting at the end of it, your feet resting in her lap. she’s looking down at her phone, probably doing the exact same thing that you are. nothing really catches your eye or makes you laugh, until you scroll upon one video — it’s a girl and her boyfriend, and she’s adding ‘the fuck?’ after every sentence she says. question or statement.

you smile, then glance up at paige, trying to think of all of the possible outcomes and what she would think if you tried this on her. would she laugh? or, would she just think you’re an idiot? who cares, honestly? you think it’s funny.

you sit up on the couch, shuffling around till your head is rested upon her shoulder. she smiles a little, immediately moving to wrap an arm around your shoulders to bring you closer.

“whatcha watchin’, p? da fuck?” you say, in a sassy tone. you look down at her phone, cracking a smile almost immediately at the overall silliness of the term, but, you try to remain calm, cool, and collected. she’ll catch on too quick if you laugh.

“oh— nothing, baby. just this video of this girl ranking nba teams…” she says, her voice holding a slight bit of confusion. at least she was still being nice. you smile a little wider, biting your cheek to stifle any laughter while trying to find a way to incorporate the line into your next sentence.

“oh, that’s cool. what team’s has she ranked, da fuck?” you say, lifting your head up to glance up at her. she smiles a little, letting out a quiet chuckle. it was weird to paige, of course. she had never heard you use the phrase ‘the fuck?’ before. especially in such a funny tone.

“the bucks, celtics, heat, and the 76ers so far.” paige says, her tiny smile beginning to morph into a wider one as she awaits your next sentence. she’s just waiting for it, now. damn it, she caught on way too quick.

“who did she rank first, da fuck?” this time, paige glances at you with a ‘side-eye.’ she just stays like this for a moment, trying to think of how to respond to the repetitive phrase.

“the celtics, the fuck?” she says back, smiling, really emphasizing the ‘the fuck?’ this makes you both burst into laughter, her head thrown back like a little kid in her fit of giggles.

“paige— you weren’t supposed to copy me!” you say through your laughing, your hand moving to cover your mouth at how hard you’re laughing. she laughs harder at this, shaking her head.

“i didn’t know why you were doing it, i thought it was our new way of communicating,” paige says, shrugging a tiny shrug, sitting her phone down on the arm of the couch to rub her hands over her face as her laughter eases.

“no, it was just a joke. big idiot.” you say, smiling still, your head shaking side to side. she shakes her own head, her hand finding yours to gently tug you toward her lap. your body finds itself on one of her thighs, your back against her chest. her arm wraps around you, resting a hand on your stomach to keep you steady and close to her. paige was a toucher, for sure.

“i actually thought it was hilarious. maybe we should just start talking like that. everyone will think we’re nuts,” she says in a teasing tone, her hand gently patting your belly. she loved doing that, and you never knew why. this and rubbing it, she loved rubbing your tummy.

“everyone already thinks you’re nuts, p. they wouldn’t think too much of you saying ‘the fuck’ after every sentence.” you reply without missing a beat, smiling a little. truth be told, everyone would be like ‘what the fuck is wrong with her? she never says this.’ if paige started to add it after every statement she makes.

“hey— im not nuts, you’re nuts!” she says, her hand moving up to your side so start gently jabbing at your ribs, beginning to tickle you.

this makes you gasp loudly, hands moving to try and find hers as you begin shouting, ‘paige, paige— no! don’t do this!’

“no, too late. you called me nuts, im gonna show you nuts— not literally, just… figuratively.” she says with a smile, beginning to tickle both of your sides. she loved tickling you, hearing your laugh and squeals as she did so. she just loved touching you in any form, really.

hell, honestly, she just loved you.

a/n: hope you loveddddddddd!

[roc-haze]

Arm’s Length | Will Lenney

Read Part 1 here!

In which Will is all in.

——

Cal: Can we talk? I miss you.

“I didn’t realise that you and Cal were still talking.” Will’s brow furrowed in confusion.

“We’re not, really. Why? Has something happened?” Y/N looked to his phone. “Is he texting you?”.

“Darling, this is your phone.” Will handed it to her, the screen illuminating.

She looked at the message, confused but deciding to lay the phone face down.

“Are you gonna get back to him?” Will asked.

“Not right now. It’s probably a drunk text,” she rested her hand over the top of his. “Anyway… back to what I was saying.”

“Are you ever going to tell me what really happened between you two?” Will chose his tone carefully, not wanting to sound too accusatory.

The group were largely unaware of the small romance between Cal and Y/N. Bach had spotted them walking hand in hand through the tube station on a Wednesday evening, but put it down to nothing after finding Cal swiping through Tinder the following weekend. Will, however, had an inside source. Harry Lewis.

They had been filming a pub golf video for Chris’s channel when Harry had brought it up.

“Mate.. can you believe Y/N and Lux?” Harry lowered his voice.

“What do you mean?” Will hadn’t heard anything from Y/N.

“She hasn’t said anything?”. Harry cocked an eyebrow. “I’m pretty sure they’re together. Like in a serious way. He was asking if he should introduce her to his family.”

“If it’s legit, she’ll tell me when she’s ready.” Will took a sip of his drink, avoiding meeting Harry’s eyes.

“Do you think she’s embarrassed of him? It seems like he wants everyone to know… but she hasn’t even told you? You basically live in her pocket.” Harry questioned Will, somewhat disbelieving his longtime friend.

“Nah, I don’t think she’d be embarrassed of ‘im. He’s a good lad. It’s probably just a lot to figure your shit out with a group as big as this.” Will had always known Y/N to be calm. Level headed. Always with a plan. She’s just probably not ready to tell people yet. She wouldn’t until she was sure he was the one.

Harry placed a hand on his shoulder. “Not gonna lie mate, I thought it would be you.”

Less than 3 weeks later, Y/N had thrown herself into work. Cal had stopped posting stories of two wine glasses and snippets of songs Y/N had just happened to like. But to their friends, nothing had ever happened. They had always interacted politely, and they moved forward normally. Hey Y/N, you look well. A quick hug and a kiss on the cheek. You too! Did you go to the football this weekend?

When Will had asked her about it, Y/N had just said, “nothing really happened between us… we’re just better off as mates.” He had his suspicions that there was something a little more sinister going on. Maybe one of them had been a little controlling. Or there was a third person in the picture. Cal immediately reinstating his Tinder profile reeked of unfaithful. “That’s a shame. You deserve someone good.” Like me, he felt like saying.

“If I’m being perfectly honest… Cal was starting to feel like he was the placeholder for you.” Y/N hesitated telling him the full truth. “I feel like such a dick. He figured out my feelings about you long before I did. I just kinda feel like I’ve dropped him in shit and then left.”

Will’s face softened. “Fuck. I always kinda assumed the worst.” He shifted in his seat, hand covering his mouth. “No wonder he hasn’t called me recently.”

“Oh come on, Will. It’s a two way street. You haven’t reached out to him either.” Y/N pursed her lips.

“I know… we have that dinner for Freezy’s birthday coming up. I’ll try and talk to him then,” Will reached out for her hand, intertwining their fingers. “Okay.. let’s make sure he’s okay and finish this conversation. We were starting to get somewhere.”

“Can’t we do that first? I have a lot I wanna say to you.” Y/N stared at him, trailing her eyes from his eyes to his lips.

“Don’t look at me like that… you’re making me feel bad. Just send a welfare text or something. I’m not gonna get pissy at him for messaging me girlfriend if the intention is just to be nice.” Will spoke quickly.

Y/N looked straight at him, a smirk beginning to grow. “Girlfriend?”

She typed a message back to Cal, Will’s hand taking up residence on her knee.

Y/N: Yeah, we can. Is everything okay?

Cal: Not really. I feel like our dynamic is kind of fucked at the moment. What do you think?

Cal: (I also have an insurance question but this is probably an inappropriate time to ask 🫣)

Y/N: I think it’s definitely a little stiff. But I expected that. How would you like to move forward? (Send me a meeting invite for tomorrow and we’ll chat through. I’m free after 2pm)

Cal: I miss my mate. I’d love for us to get a point again where we can have a pint and chat shit

Cal: Also schweeet. That time works perfectly

Y/N: Okay. Are you up for a liquid lunch tomorrow? Half productive business insurance, half gossip? 🤭

Cal: Count me in. Meet you at the usual?

Y/N: Sounds good. See you at 2!

Cal: Great 👍 good to have you back mate

Y/N: You too chief 🫡

“Are you happy with that, William? Do you feel better now?” She placed her phone on the table in front of her, giving her full attention to the man in front of her.

He laughed, taking her hands in his. “That was very nicely done. It just didn’t feel right moving forward until you and Lux were in a good spot.”

“Well. Now I’m gonna talk. You’re not going to interrupt me.” She spoke sternly, before flashing him a Cheshire Cat smile.

Will raised his hand to his mouth, making a zipping motion.

“You and me are meant to be. I am into you in the grossest way. Like I’d happily fold your socks. Pop your zits. Whatever you want. I’m all in, Will. If you don’t feel the same, that’s okay but I’m going to have to leave London out of embarrassment.” She sat vulnerably, searching the man’s eyes for any emotion. Suddenly, the room felt heavy and the exit was looking a little more appealing.

Will sat in silence, blank stare on his face. A few moments passed.

“Are you going to say anything?” Y/N exclaimed in frustration, her voice beginning to crack.

“Am I allowed to speak now? I didn’t want to interrupt.” He grinned at her, reaching out to squeeze her shoulder in reassurance. “I thought I made it pretty obvious with the whole girlfriend comment, but if you’d like to hear me say it…”.

She nodded, finally sinking back into her seat.

“I won’t pop your zits because you’d just about batter me for not having a pimple patch. But I will carry you home after nights out. Take you on hot dates to the Tesco reduced section. Brag about you to people on the street if you’ll let me.” He stopped to take a breath, captivating her gaze. “I’m all in. Even when you start to think I’m wrinkly and pruny.”

“I thought you were just good looking, but turns out you can sometimes string a romantic sentence together.” She looked at Will sincerely, placing her hands on each side of his face.

“I just speak in syllables. Makes me seem all wise.” He laughed, resting his hands on either side of her waist. He pulled her closer, his breath fanning on her face before their lips met.

The kiss was gentle at first. New. The two of them had known each other so well, but this was uncharted territory.

They pulled away, Y/N resting her hands on his chest. “Why didn’t we do this earlier?”

“Don’t ask me. I’ve been waiting around for you.” Will smiled at her, pulling her into his lap. He joined their lips together again, his hands subtly creeping underneath her knitted jumper.

Y/N ran her hands along his forearms, tracing all the way up to the back of his head and tangling her fingers through his hair. His breath hitched as she lightly pulled on a few strands. Will pulled her impossibly close, attempting to shuffle them into a horizontal position.

As Y/N went to adjust her knees on either side of his, almost in a straddle position, her knee couldn’t get a grip on the leather like material and she started to slide off the couch.

Will, unable to get a grip on her quick enough, decided to go down with the ship. They lay on the soft carpet, side by side.

“Are you alright, pet?” Will tried to hide his laughter as Y/N lay rubbing circles over her elbow.

“Fuck, I think I have carpet burn.” She whined, laughing out of embarrassment.

“D’ya want me to kiss it better?” Will turned to face Y/N, seeing her nod. He sat up, placing a kiss on her cheek. Watching the smile spread across her face, he moved to her forehead, other cheek, jaw, chin and eventually her lips.

She laughed as he pulled away. “Wow, I miraculously feel so much better.”

Before the moment could continue, there was a buzz on the intercom.

“That’d be dinner.” Will sat up, making his way to the door. While he greeted the delivery driver, Y/N made her way to the kitchen to collect the essentials - a bottle of red, two glasses, plates and two sets of chopsticks.

Will met her in the kitchen. “I forgot to tell you.. we’re having sushi”.

“I know. We always get sushi after you film.” She led him back toward the living room, setting up the coffee table to accommodate all of their food.

“I ordered some of the teriyaki chicken salad you like. That way you won’t have to worry about buying any lunch tomorrow at work.” Will grabbed the cushions off of the couch, setting them down so they could sit comfortably on the floor.

“You know me too well, Lenney.” She grinned at him, taking a seat and beginning to search through the Netflix suggestions.

He reached over, placing a gentle kiss on her temple. “Always have, sweetheart. You were only just an arms length away.”

Y/N to Ugly Stepsisters chat: I did it. I got the guy.

———

Author’s note:

All finished! Hopefully not too bad for my first fic out of retirement. If you can’t tell by the title, I have been very much listening to Sam Fender’s new album 🤭

Thanks for reading 🤍🤍

[avaredava]

Just a thought...

Choso bought a new blanket, for the first time he bought something online.

You weren't there but you were concerned he got scammed but it was adorable when he freaked out and told you he bought it off the same website you buy stuff, amazon.

You let out a sigh of relief and gave him a hug and a kiss telling him how you're proud of him and not angry even if he did buy from a bad website. He is always slightly nervous to try new stuff, especially without you but he took a big step.

You both got ready and got into bed. He laid on your breasts, his favourite pillow. And fell asleep quickly as you played with his hair.

The next day the package came and he was off the walls. He quickly flung open the door and picked up the box bolting inside. He pulled you on his lap and put the box in yours.

You opened the box and your face scrunched up. "It's a thin blanket." You say with a hint of confusion in your voice. "Almost breathable. Did you look in the description?"

He shakes his head. It hits you that its supposed to be breathable. It has a small hole. Its a blanket for sex. You burst out laughing and his cheeks go bright red.

And then you both think... why don't you two put it to good use?

That's how Choso was pathetically whining as your hand moved up and down his cock.

His whole body was under the blanket but his cock poking out threw the small hole, this some how made everything so erotic.

He started to sob really loud. You knew he was about to come. And you were right!

Long thick ropes of cum started flying out of his sensitive cock. You pumped his cock through it. When he started to calm down and his voice was raw, you let go of his softening cock.

"Good choice for a blanket baby." You mumbled licking your cum dirty fingers clean. "Proud of you."

He melts. He loves his good choice.

_

Master list's

Fyi I don't know that this is an actual item on amazon, i just need a legit website 🤣

[meydang]

Flustered

(sfw)

Asaba Harumasa x reader

You have always been curious, does he actually have fangs? So you decided to find out yourself.

.

.

.

It all started when you were scrolling through the trending section of a fanpage dedicated to Harumasa. As his girlfriend, you’d seen it all - edits, memes, and the occasional over-the-top appreciation posts. But today’s featured post stopped you dead in your tracks.

"Harumasa’s fangs… real or just a vibe? Discuss."

The thread is filled with multiple opinions. Some argued that the fangs are indeed real, citing close-ups from promotional shots, pointing out how they gleamed in certain lightings, while others believed they are simply acessories - part of his carefully crafted, cool image. His fangs had always fascinated you, but now that someone mentioned it, you just had to know. Were they really the real deal?

You glanced over at Harumasa, who is sitting across the couch scrolling his phone, oblivious to the online discourse. Suddenly, a thought crosses your mind: not only could you get your answer, but you could also see what it took to fluster the usually unshakable Harumasa.

"Hey, Haru," you called casually, leaning against the armrest. "Do you..." you began innocently, setting your phone down, "do you ever read what people post about you online?"

"Not always. Why? Are they saying something stupid again?" He answered, not looking up.

"Not stupid," you said, suppressing a smile. "More like… curious. People were debating about your fangs just now." You continued.

"My fangs? What’s there to debate?" He paused mid-scroll, glancing up at you for a moment before returning his attention to his phone. "Some people think they’re real, but a lot are convinced they’re fake. Personally..." You trailed off, trying to look thoughtful.

"Personally what?" He looks at you properly now, his golden eyes narrowing slightly.

"Oh nothing," you shrugged, leaning forward. "I guess they do seem a little too perfect. Like, almost too sharp, It’s not crazy to think they’re fake."

His brows furrows slightly, and you fought the urge to grin. "You're not being serious." he said flatly.

"Totally serious," you replied, tilting your head - smirking. "And maybe I need to test it to see for myself." Before he could protest, you move closer, sliding across the couch until there was barely any space left between you. His eyes widened slightly as your hands gently cupped his face, your fingertips brushing against the sharp line of his jaw. Your face was so close now that you could see every detail - the faint blush spreading across his cheeks, the way his lips parted as if to say something, but no words came out.

Cute, you thought to yourself.

His breath hitched when your thumb grazed his chin, and you smiled inwardly, noting how his usually composed demeanor seems to falter. "Hold still," you added, your tone almost teasingly sweet. Harumasa swallowed, his eyes flickered from yours to your hands as you tilted his head slightly.

Very cute.

"What are you doing?" he asked, voice low and tinged with uncertainty. "Settling the debate," you said sweetly with a smile. You reached out carefully, brushing your finger against one of the pointed teeth. It was cool to the touch - and real.

"Whoa," you whispered, leaning back a little. "They’re legit." and before you could help yourself, you pressed a bit harder, only to yelp when it pricked your fingertip.

"Told you, and that’s what you get for doubting your boyfriend." Harumasa huffed, sitting back with a smirk despite his shyness still lingering.

"You could’ve warned me they were that sharp!" You cradled your finger dramatically, feigning the injury.

"Hey hey, you’re the one poking around where you shouldn’t," he states it like it's a warning, but the way his arm slipped around your waist said otherwise. "Next time, just ask." he continued smugly, baring his fangs out to you in an exaggerated grin.

"Maybe. But where’s the fun in that?" You laughed, resting your head against him. "Besides, I just learned something way more interesting."

"Oh? What’s that?" he asked, his tone now more suspicious and guarded as he glances back down at you.

"You’re easy to fluster." you said, grinning as you watch the faintest hint of color rise to his cheeks again.

"I’m not flustered!" Harumasa clicked his tongue, trying to compose himself albeit not being very successful at it.

"Sure," you said, backing away with a triumphant laugh. "Whatever you say, Haru." Despite his protests, his ears burned a shade of red that gave you all the satisfaction you needed.

[mythicalmaven]

omg i saw your prompt list and I'm a sucker for oscar lately, so i thought 45 (God, I am so in love with you) with him? fluff please :)

i love your writing btw!

First Kiss - Oscar Piastri (requested)

Masterlist ↳pairing: oscar piastri x female!reader ↳word count: 0.8K ↳summary: In which Oscar wins the Azerbaijan GP & finally kisses you for the first time ↳prompts used: 45 - "God, I am so in love with you"

Oscar had been in love with you for years, a secret he’d kept tucked away in the corners of his heart, afraid of what would happen if he ever let it out. He’d watch you laugh, your eyes sparkling with a light that made everything else fade away, and he’d feel his chest tighten with the words he could never quite say.

You’d been his best friend since forever, the person who knew him better than anyone else. Every victory, every defeat—you were there, cheering him on or comforting him in the quiet moments when the world seemed too much. But as much as he cherished your friendship, he was terrified to risk it by confessing his feelings, convinced that you saw him as nothing more than a friend.

It was a thought that haunted him every time he caught you looking at him with that warm smile, every time your hand brushed against his, sending electric shocks through his body. He couldn’t imagine a life without you in it, so he swallowed down his love, settling for being your best friend even if it meant his heart ached every time you were near.

But everything changed the morning of the Baku race. He was in the paddock, nerves buzzing under his skin as he tried to focus on the upcoming race, terribly failing as he catched himself staring at you once again. But then Lando came up to him with a knowing smile.

“You know she’s in love with you too, right?” Lando said casually, as if he hadn’t just dropped a bombshell on him.

Oscar blinked, his brain struggling to process the words. “What?”

“Yeah,” he continued, oblivious to the way his heart was suddenly racing. “She’s been head over heels for you for ages. Honestly, it’s kind of obvious. I thought you knew.”

He stood there, stunned, his mind spinning as everything he thought he knew shifted. You were in love with him? All those moments he’d dismissed as wishful thinking, the lingering touches, the way you looked at him—had he been blind to it all?

"Are you sure?" Oscar asked, completely dumbfounded. Afraid that Lando might got the wrong signals, that it wasn't what he thought it was.

"Couldn't be more sure" Lando smiled at him, patting his shoulder "Mate, she legit told me, 'I wonder if Oscar has any idea how crazy I am about him.' That clear enough for you?" he chuckled, mocking your love sick tone "Didn't wan't to be the one to spill the beans, but I'm pretty sure the both of you otherwise would have been too shy too ever confess to each other"

His heart soared, hope blossoming in his chest, but there was no time to process it. The call for the race was going out, and he had to get to the grid. He barely remembered the moments that followed, his body moving on autopilot as he climbed into the car, his mind consumed by thoughts of you.

And when he crossed the finish line, his first instinct wasn’t to celebrate the victory—it was to find you, to tell you everything he’d been holding back for so long. Because now he knew. And he wasn’t going to let another moment slip by without you knowing, too.

He glanced around, searching the crowd with an urgency you’d never seen before. When his eyes locked onto yours, a grin split his face. Without a second thought, he handed his helmet to a nearby mechanic and practically sprinted toward you. Your heart leaped into your throat as he reached the barrier, reaching out to lift you over it with ease. His hands found your face, cupping your cheeks with a gentleness that contrasted sharply with the intense look in his eyes.

“Oscar—” you began, but your words were cut off as he crashed his lips onto yours, his kiss filled with a raw, unspoken longing. You gasped against his mouth, stunned, but the surprise quickly melted into warmth as you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer.

The crowd erupted in cheers, their shouts echoing around you, but it all faded into a blur. It was just the two of you, standing there in the middle of the chaos, wrapped up in each other. The kiss was everything you’d ever dreamed of—soft yet demanding, sweet but full of a simmering passion that sent shivers down your spine. You could feel the joy and relief radiating from him, his lips moving against yours with a mix of exhilaration and tenderness that made your legs weak.

When you finally pulled apart, breathless and dazed, Oscar rested his forehead against yours, his eyes sparkling with unspoken words. His thumb brushed over your cheek as he searched your gaze, a smile tugging at his lips.

“I love you too, by the way,” he whispered, his voice slightly breathless but steady.

A giggle bubbled up from your chest, pure happiness spilling over as you leaned in, pressing a quick kiss to his lips. The cameras were still flashing, the crowd still cheering, but all you could focus on was the warmth of his hands and the way he looked at you, like you were the only thing that mattered in the world.

Oscar’s gaze never left you, his grin widening with each passing moment. Finally, he could hold you the way he’d always longed to. He’d admired you for so long, captivated by your beauty. But now, seeing you up close, you looked even more stunning. He was completely smitten. “God, I am so in love with you.”

Masterlist

[luvlyycy]

— a/n : , , thought this up w @cindol in a legit heartbeat ! bestfriend!sukuna... my beloved . . maybe I'll make a pt 2 iunno!

wc : , , 1k + !

summary : , , sukuna punches ur bf thats it. thats the fic. (angst/comfort)

Sukuna hates it. Everytime he looks at your face he's reminded of how weak and vulnerable he becomes. It's the classic sun and moon duo, and he hates it.

You're always going to him for your 'boy' problems, painting his nails as you yap on about this one boy in your class. You say how handsome he is or how nice his hands look. You've never said anything like that about him, but he doesn't care; or he tells himself that.

He'll often leave snacks on your table before your lectures, or drinks next to you at lunch. It's a small reminder that he cares about you.

Everyone says that he's a bad influence on such a kind, pretty girl like you. You never listen. Glued to his side as you walk down the long hallways, his piercings and black leather jacket a contrast to your beautiful outfit, the complete opposite of his.

You don't share dorms, and he wishes he put his pride aside and requested that you did. It's bothersome, having to make his routine of walking to your dorm, catching the eyes and hearing rumors of the two of you dating on the way.

Although, the snacks he hold are currently on the floor as the door opens, his lip curling upward and nose flaring in anger as he spots him— Satoru Gojo.

"What the fuck—"

He's leant against the door, a shit eating grin plastered on the face he's ready to punch the shit out of.

Is that lipstick on his fucking neck?

"Small world, huh?" Gojo chuckles out, turning around to face you, then back at Sukuna, "Guess I should tell ya. We're datin' now." .

There's a loud crash and a blur that you see as your boyfriend stumbles backwards, his hand holding his jaw.

Sukuna punched your boyfriend.

Sukuna just fucking punched your boyfriend.

You exclaim with a loud 'what the fuck' and get up from the bed, the blanket falling to pool around your legs.

Sukuna grits his teeth together as he sees you.. clad in panties and an oversized black shirt.

He begins to laugh and turns right back to Gojo, finally noticing that he's shirtless. He barks out a loud laugh and places his hand over his face, "You've gotta be fucking kidding me."

Gojo throws his hands up, "What the hell is your problem?!" and Sukuna stops to look at you, then back at Gojo.

He points at the both of you, "Whatever the fuck this is, I don't want to be in between it. If I am in between it— your fucking little punk ass boyfriend— is getting punched again."

"Again?" Gojo laughs out, stepping closer to Sukuna, "Who the fuck do you think you are?"

You sharply yell out Gojo's name but Sukuna speaks over you, "Doesn't fucking matter you puss—" a loud 'thwack!' is heard as you see your best friend this time stumble backwards.

Blood runs down Sukuna's nose before he wipes his messily with his thumb, bringing up his fists in a messy fighting stance. He's far too angry to fight for real.

You've seen him fight, and it's nothing like what you're seeing.

They're going back and forth, Sukuna punching Gojo in places that are sure to bruise within a few hours. Gojo pushes Sukuna against the wall with his forearm against his neck as he spits some awful insults into his face, only for Sukuna to spit his own blood directly onto his cheek.

You hear Sukuna laugh, and before you know it, you're wailing; sobbing like a baby if you will.

They both turn to you, Gojo still holding a squirming Sukuna against the wall.

You've never liked violence— and Sukuna can't help but wonder, is that why you chose Gojo? Was he too.. violent?

"Get the fuck off of me— She needs me—" Sukuna shouts and Gojo cuts him off, "She doesn't need you, she needs me."

Oh. Oh.

He's right. Gojo's ... right.

His ears are ringing as he watches you cry, feeling Gojo inevitably let up on his neck and make his way over to you. He cradles you, his hands on your cheeks as he wipes your tears and snot away.

He can't tell if he's lightheaded or he's about to cry. He doesn't want to know. He doesn't say anything, just makes his way toward the door, exiting out and stepping over the drinks and snacks he had dropped earlier.

You don't need him.

Sukuna shuts the door and looks down at his hands, turning them over to look at his visibly red and bloody knuckles. More eyes are peering at him as he walks down the hallway.

It feels empty despite all the people out of their rooms due to the commotion. His phone is buzzing in his pocket the whole time, no doubt that it's you but he doesn't check.

You don't need him.

His chest fucking hurts, and he feels his eyes tear up for once. He frowns, still tasting the blood from his busted lip.

You don't need him.

Once he gets to his room, he undresses and plops down onto his bed— he's lost. He doesn't know what to do until—

He does.

He ignores you for a week, maybe two.

He often finds himself looking at the messages you sent, endless questions flooding his messages but the last one stands out.

It simply reads, 'what did i do?'.

You never needed him that's what you did. He slaps his hands against his face as he gets ready for a day of ignoring you again, he pulls a plain hoodie over his head.

He notices the nail polish on his nails is chipped almost completely off. Probably some weird metaphor for your and his friendship.

He makes his way out the door, almost recieving a heart attack as he sees you— eyes puffy and red, only in an oversized shirt and sweatpants.

" 'Kuna." you sniff, hands wiping your eyes, "What'd I do? Why did you punch Gojo? What happened?" you whine in the hallway.

Eventually you're yanked into his room and placed onto his bed, still lightly sobbing as you look up at Sukuna.

"I just, felt like punching him."

"Bull fuckin shit."

Potty mouth.

He sighs, wiping your eyes like he'd usually do before that day.

"It's fine. Don't worry about it. You don't need me." You're silent, and he looks dead serious.

"....What?"

"You don't—" "No, I heard you. I'm just, confused."

He frowns, this is the first time he's said it out loud, let alone explain it.

"I- I do need you!" you suddenly exclaim, hands gripping onto his wrists, "Fuck, Sukuna, I need you so bad." he watches more tears spill and he can't help but frown even more.

"No, you don't—"

"I do!" you cut him off, sobbing, "Remember when I had my period and had no pads? You got them for me. Or, or, whenever I got depressed you would stay in my room and make sure I ate and drank. You don't remember that? Or, when you beat up those guys who tried to bully me?? Or when... I had those silly nightmares—" you let out a soft hiccup, "and you let me sleep in your room and hug you until I fell asleep?".

He stares at you.

"I do need you, more than anyhing."

If he wanted to be vulnerable, he'd be crying right beside you, instead he whispers your name.

He crouches in front of you, a weak smile spreading across his lips as he watches you weakly reciprocate.

You laugh, and he does too, "We're fucking idiots." he laughs out, moving closer to you.

You place your hands softly on his cheeks and look at his face, "It's all my fault— I was stupid, and didn't realize in time and, and, I left Gojo when you guys fought—" he sighs.

It takes a few moments for you to realize but he kissed you.

He finally kissed you. You both melt into each other, molding into the perfect mix of night 'n day. It sparks, like the stars in the night sky and your brain clears like a sunny day.

He pulls away to whisper, "Sleep in my room." you giggle, "It's not even nighttime." and he spares a moment to smile, "Yeah, and? You need a nap."

"I do. I do need a nap actually."

You do need him.

[rosierin]

stem wars | atsumu, osamu, suna

synopsis; osamu can tie cherry stems with his tongue so atsumu, suna and (y/n) try to one-up him.

this fic is part of the off-season quartet™ series! for more, click here :)

It started innocently enough.

The four of them were gathered around the dining table, bowls half-full of fruit, the soft drone of an animal documentary playing on the TV in the background. The narrator’s voice was mellow, British, and mildly bored:

“The leopard uses stealth to approach its prey, crouching low in the tall grass…”

Atsumu had one leg propped up on the chair, slowly chewing on a cherry, fully engrossed in the program. Suna sat opposite, slouched with his hoodie half-zipped, eyes flickering idly between the screen and the bowl. (Y/n) had a cushion behind her back and one of her legs tucked under her, snacking contentedly. Osamu was methodically pitting cherries and lining up the seeds on a napkin like some sort of serial killer.

The mood was calm. Peaceful. Nobody saying a peep—until a rogue thought crossed (y/n)’s mind.

Then—

“Hey,” she piped up, chewing thoughtfully.

She earned a chorus of hums, all varying in pitch and interest.

“Can you guys do that thing where you tie a cherry stem with your tongue?”

The documentary kept droning in the background.

Atsumu blinked. “That’s a thing?”

Suna glanced over. “Can’t say I’ve tried.”

Osamu didn’t even look up. “I can.”

(Y/n)’s eyes lit up, her grin spreading like wildfire. “You can??”

Atsumu looked personally offended, cast his brother a judgemental stare. “Since when?”

Osamu shrugged, picking out another cherry. “Since I’ve been eatin’ cherries.”

Suna nodded slowly, twirling one of the fruits between his fingers. “That’s pretty impressive.”

“I ain’t buyin’ it,” Atsumu scoffed. “I don’t see how it’s even possible.“

“No,” (y/n) insisted, leaning forward now, “it’s a legit thing! Some people can just do it.”

Osamu raised an eyebrow and plucked a stem from the bowl. “Wanna see?”

All three of them responded in unison:

“Yes please.”

“Yeah.”

“Duh.”

With all the nonchalance of someone tying their shoelaces, Osamu popped the cherry in his mouth. His jaw shifted slightly. A few seconds passed.

He stuck out his tongue.

The stem was tied in a perfect little knot.

Atsumu dropped his cherry pit onto the table. “What the actual hell—”

Suna blinked. “Damn. He can actually do it.”

(Y/n) let out a breathless laugh. “That’s sick!”

And just like that, the table descended into silly competition.

Everyone suddenly had a cherry stem in hand.

Atsumu was determined. He shoved one in his mouth, brow furrowed like he was solving a math equation.

“How the fuck are ya supposed to—”

“Don’t choke,” Suna warned, already working on his own attempt.

(Y/n) giggled. “Okay, wait—how do you even start? Do you fold it or just like… twist it around?”

“Use your tongue, obviously,” Atsumu snapped, still mumbling around the stem. “What else are ya s’posed to use?”

She snorted. “It’s harder than it looks!”

Osamu leaned back with his arms folded, watching like a proud sensei. “Just takes practice.”

Then, without warning, Suna casually stuck out his tongue—and lo and behold, his stem was perfectly knotted too.

“WHAT?!” Atsumu practically shrieked. “How’d you do that?!”

(Y/n) gave him a look, mocking his tone. “By using his tongue, duh. What else are ya s’posed to use?”

Atsumu shot her a glare.

Suna shrugged, completely unfazed. “I’m multi-talented.”

(Y/n) gasped. “Okay, what is this? How are the two of you so good at this?!”

Atsumu spat his stem onto a napkin, clicking his tongue irritably. “Mine broke. This is rigged.”

Osamu, grinning now, lazily spun his tied stem between his fingers. “Guess I’m just better at usin’ my tongue. No big deal, guys.”

(Y/n) choked on air.

Atsumu’s head whipped around. “Fuck off—”

Suna’s smirk grew three sizes as he brandished another perfectly knotted cherry stem on his tongue.

(Y/n) gawked, cheeks hot as she looked between the very smug Suna and casual-as-ever Osamu.

“What?” he said, too innocently. “Just statin’ facts.”

Atsumu looked personally attacked. “Nah. You both know what yer doin’.”

Osamu bit into another cherry, lips quirking. “Can’t help it if you’ve got a dirty mind.”

(Y/n) giggled helplessly, chasing the less-than-appropriate thoughts from her head.

Atsumu reached for another stem, undeterred. “One more. I swear ’m gonna do it.”

“Give up, 'Tsumu,” Osamu drawled. “Some people just don’t got it.”

Suna tossed a cherry into his mouth, casting a sly glance at (y/n). “Then there’s those who do.”

Atsumu groaned at his third failed attempt, lobbing the seed at the wall like it was the cherry’s fault.

Osamu clicked his tongue. “Ya better pick that up.”

Atsumu huffed, picking up another cherry with unnecessary force. “Not until I figure this shit out.”

(Y/n) stilled, tugging on their sleeves. “Guys—guys—the leopard is hunting.”

Nobody paid attention.