#I don’t mind talking work all that much

[cherryxbooo]

I’ll do anything to make you happy

Summary: You were excited for winter break to start because it meant one thing: spending more time with Lando. But little did you know, that was the one thing you wouldn't be getting.

Reader x Lando Norris

Genre: fluff/angst

Winter always held a special kind of charm for me.

The frosty mornings, cozy blankets, and steaming cups of cocoa had always made this season my favorite.

But this year, it held a different promise: Lando finally had a break from racing.

After months of hectic schedules, jet-setting across the globe, and stolen moments in between races, I was looking forward to having him all to myself.

At first, it was everything I’d imagined and more.

We spent lazy mornings tangled in bed, with me teasing him about his messy hair while he pulled me closer, claiming I was his personal heater.

Breakfasts turned into brunches because we couldn’t stop talking or joking around.

We watched movies, baked cookies that turned out terrible, and played endless rounds of Mario Kart, which I always managed to win.

“You’re only winning because I’m letting you,” Lando said one evening, his grin teasing as he tossed the controller onto the couch.

“Sure you are,” I replied, laughing as I grabbed my victory snack from the table.

Those first few days felt like we were in our own little world, where nothing else mattered but us.

But soon, reality began creeping in.

It started innocently enough.

“Babe, Max just called,” Lando said one morning, leaning against the counter with his coffee mug in hand.

“He’s organizing a karting session. Shouldn’t take long.”

I smiled, my heart swelling with pride.

Racing was his passion, and I loved seeing him happy. “Go have fun. Just don’t let him beat you.”

“Never,” he said with a wink, kissing my temple quickly before heading out.

That day, I didn’t mind the quiet. I worked on some projects, caught up with friends, and even took a long bath.

By the time he got home, his cheeks were flushed with cold, and he couldn’t stop talking about how much fun he’d had.

But karting soon turned into golf.

Golf turned into poker nights. And poker nights turned into outings that stretched late into the night.

“I’ll be back soon,” he’d text, always with a heart emoji. But “soon” became later and later each time.

I told myself it was fine. He deserved this break.

He’d worked so hard all year, and if spending time with his friends helped him unwind, who was I to complain?

But as the days wore on, the house began to feel emptier, and so did I.

One evening, I decided to surprise him with his favorite dinner.

I spent hours in the kitchen, setting the table with candles and dimming the lights for a cozy atmosphere.

When Lando walked through the door, his expression softened as he took in the setup.

“You didn’t have to do all this,” he said, wrapping his arms around me.

“I wanted to,” I replied, smiling up at him.

“You’ve been so busy, and I thought it’d be nice to have a quiet night together.”

“That’s so sweet,” he said, leaning down to kiss me.

“But the guys are waiting for me. I promised I’d meet them for drinks tonight. Let’s rain check this?”

My smile faltered, but I nodded. “Of course.”

He kissed me again and was out the door before I could say anything more.

I sat down at the table, staring at the empty chair across from me.

The candles flickered, their light reflecting off the untouched plates. I took a deep breath, telling myself it was okay.

But deep down, a tiny crack had formed in my heart.

Days turned into weeks, and the cracks only deepened.

Lando’s absence became more noticeable, and I began to feel like a ghost in our own home.

One evening, after scrolling through endless photos of him with his friends on Instagram, I called Mia, my best friend.

“What’s wrong?” she asked the moment she picked up.

I sighed, the weight of my emotions pressing down on me.

“It’s Lando. He’s been spending so much time with his friends lately, and I feel like I’m… invisible.”

Mia was quiet for a moment before saying, “Y/N, you’re not invisible. But you need to talk to him. He’s not a mind reader.”

“I don’t want to seem clingy,” I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper.

“You’re not clingy. You’re his girlfriend. He should want to spend time with you. Talk to him.”

Her words gave me the push I needed. That night, when Lando came home, I gathered my courage.

“Can we talk?” I asked, my heart pounding in my chest.

“Of course,” he said, sitting down next to me.

I took a deep breath.

“I’ve been feeling… neglected lately. I know you’re enjoying your break, and I want you to have fun, but I miss us. I miss you.”

He frowned, reaching for my hand.

“Babe, I’m sorry if it feels that way. But I’m here now, aren’t I?”

I nodded, but his words didn’t ease the ache in my chest. Before I could say more, he kissed me and stood up.

“Max needs help with something,” he said, grabbing his keys. “Love you!”

And just like that, he was gone. Again.

I tried my best to push away all negative thoughts until I thought about the positive ones.

Our second anniversary was just days away, and I held onto the hope that he’d make it special.

I told myself the late nights didn’t matter. He was probably planning something incredible for our anniversary.

The next day,

The morning light filtered through the curtains, painting the room in soft golden hues.

I stretched lazily, a content smile curling my lips as I reached across the bed.

My fingers met cold sheets. The space beside me was empty.

I frowned, the giddy excitement I had woken up with faltering.

Today was our second anniversary.

I had imagined waking up wrapped in Lando’s arms, whispering sleepy “Happy anniversary” wishes before sharing breakfast together.

Instead, he was gone.

I also realized that I hadn't heard him come back last night.

He told me he was just helping Max out with something, but he probably went out partying with his friends afterward, again.

I tried to shake off the disappointment as I climbed out of bed, brushing my hair out of my face.

Maybe he had planned a surprise and needed to step out early.

A flutter of hope lifted my spirits as I grabbed my robe and headed toward the kitchen.

The scent of coffee greeted me, but there was no sign of Lando.

Instead, on the counter, I found a note written in his familiar scrawl:

“Gone golfing with the guys. Be back later. Love you.”

My heart sank. Golfing? On our anniversary?

I swallowed the lump rising in my throat, trying to focus on the fact that he had said he’d be back later.

He wouldn’t forget our dinner, right?

We’d planned this evening together weeks ago, and I’d been looking forward to it ever since.

I folded the note and placed it aside, telling myself not to overthink it. He would be back in time.

He promised.

After a quick breakfast, I set to work preparing for the evening.

My heart thudded with a mix of excitement and nervousness as I laid out my plans.

Lando had been so busy lately, and this was my chance to remind him how much I loved him, despite everything.

I spent hours in the kitchen, cooking all his favorite dishes: his go-to pasta, a roasted chicken dish he always requested, and even the dessert I’d failed at three times before finally perfecting.

The smells of herbs, garlic, and chocolate filled the apartment, making it feel warm and inviting.

Between stirring pots and chopping vegetables, I took breaks to set up the dining table.

I draped it with a soft cream tablecloth, adding candles and a scattering of rose petals for a romantic touch.

Fairy lights hung along the walls, casting a cozy glow that made the space feel magical.

On the counter, I carefully placed his gift, a sleek watch he had admired months ago but never bought for himself.

Not forgetting to attach a handwritten note to the box.

With everything ready, I checked the clock.

It was almost evening. So I had to hurry up to get ready.

I slipped into the dress I had chosen weeks ago, a soft, fitted number I knew he loved on me.

My makeup was simple yet elegant, and I added the finishing touch, a spritz of the perfume Lando had gifted me for my last birthday.

I felt beautiful, excited, and nervous all at once as I sat on the couch, watching the clock.

Five minutes passed. Then ten.

By the time twenty minutes had gone by, I grabbed my phone, texting him a quick, “Hey, are you on your way?”

No response.

An hour later, I texted again. Then called. Still nothing.

My excitement turned into a gnawing worry that sat heavy in my chest.

Where was he? Had he forgotten?

Two hours passed.

The candles on the table had burned down halfway, their flickering flames reflecting off the now-cold plates of food.

The fairy lights, once magical, now felt like mockery.

Finally, three hours later, I gave up.

Tears stung my eyes as I blew out the candles, packed away the food, and removed my dress, exchanging it for soft pajamas.

My makeup was smeared with tears by the time I climbed into bed.

I grabbed my phone one last time, and my heart shattered when I saw the Instagram story.

It was one of Lando’s friends, showing a clip of him laughing, drink in hand, surrounded by his friends.

He looked happy. Carefree.

And completely oblivious that tonight was our anniversary.

The tears came faster, hot and uncontrollable. I buried my face in the pillow, the ache in my chest overwhelming.

I had been so sure he’d come back, that he’d remember. But I was wrong.

Later that night,

The apartment was cloaked in silence when Lando opened the front door, the click of the lock echoing faintly in the stillness.

He stumbled inside the weight of exhaustion and faint traces of guilt tugging at his chest.

The soft glow of the streetlights outside illuminated the darkened space just enough for him to make out his surroundings.

Something felt… off.

He reached for the light switch, and as the room was bathed in warm light, his eyes landed on the dining table across from him.

He froze.

The table was beautifully decorated, candles placed strategically, now melted into small stubs, surrounded by rose petals that had been artfully scattered.

Plates of food were neatly covered with lids to keep them from going bad, but even from a distance, Lando could tell they were his favorites.

He took a tentative step forward, his stomach sinking further with each movement.

Resting near the center of the table was a small, wrapped box with a note attached to it.

The sight made his chest tighten, a creeping realization clawing at the edges of his mind.

His fingers trembled as he picked up the note. Unfolding it carefully, he read the words in her familiar handwriting:

"To my Lando, the best thing that ever happened to me. Thank you for being my partner, my love, my everything. Happy anniversary, baby. Love, Y/N."

The words hit him like a punch to the gut. His heart sank as the full weight of the evening’s significance crashed over him.

Anniversary. He’d forgotten their second anniversary.

Lando stood there, the note still clutched in his hand, his throat tightening as shame washed over him.

He thought back to the past few weeks, to the times he’d brushed you off or come home late without so much as an explanation.

He couldn’t even recall the last time you two spent real, quality time together.

You had tried to talk to him about it, about how you felt neglected, and he had dismissed your concerns every single time.

Now, standing there amidst the evidence of your effort and love, he felt like the worst boyfriend in the world.

Lando exhaled shakily, running a hand through his hair as regret threatened to overwhelm him.

He couldn’t blame anyone but himself.

He glanced around the room, noticing how quiet it was. He knew you were asleep.

His eyes landed on his phone, dead from the night’s events.

With a heavy sigh, he plugged it into the charger, pacing nervously as he waited for it to turn back on.

When it finally lit up, the screen was flooded with notifications, missed calls and unread messages from Y/N.

The time stamps told the story of your evening:

“Hey, are you on your way?” - 8 p.m. “I’m waiting for you… everything’s ready.” -8:30 p.m. “Lando, please call me.” -9 p.m. “Are you okay? I’m starting to worry.” -10 p.m.

The last message was hours old, her tone shifting from hopeful to concerned.

Each notification felt like another jab to his heart, the guilt almost unbearable.

He dropped his phone onto the counter and made his way toward their shared bedroom.

Pushing the door open quietly, he stepped into the dimly lit room.

His gaze immediately found her curled up under the covers, her face half-buried in the pillow.

His breath hitched when he noticed the faint streaks on her cheeks, traces of tears she hadn’t been able to hide.

The sight made his heart clench painfully. She’d cried herself to sleep, and it was his fault.

Lando approached the bed slowly, kneeling beside her as he took in her tear-streaked face.

She looked so peaceful yet so vulnerable, her chest rising and falling softly with each breath.

Guilt swirled in his chest as he reached out, brushing a strand of hair away from her face.

“I’m so sorry, baby,” he whispered, his voice barely audible, thick with regret.

Leaning down, he pressed a gentle kiss to her temple, lingering for a moment as if hoping it could somehow convey all the apologies he couldn’t say while she was awake.

His thumb grazed her cheek, and he sighed deeply.

“You didn’t deserve this,” he murmured, his voice breaking.

“I’ve been such an ass… the worst boyfriend. I’ll make it up to you, I promise. I love you so much.”

She stirred slightly at his touch but didn’t wake.

Lando watched her for a moment longer before standing, his mind racing with plans to fix what he’d broken.

Tomorrow, he vowed, would be all about her.

The next morning, I woke up with a dull ache in my chest, my body heavy from the night before.

My eyes were sore and puffy from crying myself to sleep.

I glanced at the empty side of the bed, already prepared for the familiar sting of disappointment.

Figured he’d leave again before I woke up, I thought bitterly.

Dragging myself out of bed, I moved to the bathroom to freshen up.

The cold water on my face didn’t do much to wash away the exhaustion or the emotional weight from the previous night.

With a sigh, I tied my hair back and made my way downstairs, expecting another day of hurt to unfold.

Halfway down the stairs, though, something unusual stopped me in my tracks.

The smell of coffee, rich and inviting, wafted through the air.

There was another scent too, pancakes? My brow furrowed in confusion.

"That can’t be right. Lando doesn’t cook... does he? Who am i kidding he can't even boil eggs."

I cautiously descended the rest of the stairs, each step filling me with equal parts curiosity and hesitation.

As I rounded the corner into the kitchen, I froze at the sight before me.

There he was, standing by the stove, flipping a pancake with a focused but slightly clumsy determination.

Plates of food lined the table, croissants, fresh fruit, juice, and what looked like store-bought pastries.

It didn’t take long to figure out most of the spread wasn’t homemade, but the effort was unmistakably his.

“Morning, love,” Lando greeted me, his tone soft and tentative, his lips curling into a nervous smile.

I raised an eyebrow, my arms crossing instinctively. “What’s all this?”

He put the spatula down and stepped closer, wiping his hands on a kitchen towel.

“It’s breakfast... and an apology,” he said, his voice earnest.

My eyes flickered between him and the spread on the table.

I could see he was trying, but the hurt from last night still lingered like a heavy cloud over my chest.

“Come sit,” he said gently, pulling a chair out for me.

I hesitated for a moment before sitting down, my arms still crossed defensively.

Lando grabbed a plate, placing a pancake in front of me before adding a small pile of fruit and a croissant on the side.

I eyed him suspiciously as he poured me a cup of coffee, then sat across from me.

“What are you doing, Lando?” I asked, my voice tinged with a mix of confusion and frustration.

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table as he met my gaze.

“I messed up, Y/N. Big time. And I need you to know how sorry I am.” His voice was steady but filled with regret.

I stayed silent, waiting for him to continue.

“Last night,” he began, his brows furrowing,

“I forgot our anniversary. I forgot the one day I should’ve been making you feel like the most important person in the world. And it’s not just last night, I’ve been neglecting you for weeks. You told me how you felt, and I brushed it off like an idiot.”

His voice cracked slightly as he spoke, and I could see the weight of his guilt etched into every line on his face.

“I’ve been selfish, caught up in my own world, and I didn’t see how much I was hurting you. You deserve so much better than that, Y/N. Better than me.”

I felt my throat tighten as his words sank in. The sincerity in his tone chipped away at the walls I’d put up.

“I was so hurt, Lando,” I said, my voice trembling.

“I waited for you all night. I planned everything because I thought… I thought you’d come home and we’d celebrate together. I stayed up, hoping you’d walk through that door with a smile, ready to tell me how much you love me. But you didn’t.”

Tears pricked my eyes as I continued.

“I saw that video of you and your friends. You were laughing and having fun while I sat here, alone, on what was supposed to be our night.”

Lando’s face fell, his hands gripping the edge of the table as if grounding himself from the weight of my words.

“I know,” he whispered.

“And I hate myself for it. Seeing what you did for me last night, the decorations, the food, the note. I realized just how much I’ve been taking you for granted. I never want you to feel that way again, Y/N. You’re the most important thing in my life. I need you to believe that.”

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small box, sliding it across the table to me.

“What’s this?” I asked, my voice softer now, though my heart still carried the sting of last night.

“Open it,” he urged.

I carefully lifted the lid, revealing a delicate necklace with a sparkling pendant.

The intricate design caught the morning light, making it shimmer.

“Lando…” I trailed off, overwhelmed.

“It’s not enough to make up for what I’ve done,” he said quickly,

“but it’s a start. And today, it’s all about you. Whatever you want to do, wherever you want to go, we’ll do it.”

I stared at the necklace for a moment before meeting his eyes.

“It’s beautiful,” I said, my voice thick with emotion. “Thank you.”

“But,” I added, my tone firm, “this doesn’t mean I’ve fully forgiven you yet.”

“I know,” he said, nodding.

“And I don’t expect you to. But I’ll spend every day proving to you how much I care, how much I love you. I won’t stop until you believe me again.”

The determination in his voice made my chest tighten.

I wanted to hold onto my anger, to make him feel the depth of my hurt, but seeing him now, vulnerable, regretful, and desperate to make things right.

I couldn’t help but feel the smallest crack in my resolve.

As the morning unfolded, Lando’s sincerity shone through.

He insisted on clearing the table and cleaning up, stealing small glances at me as if trying to gauge my mood.

I wasn’t ready to let go of all the hurt just yet, but for the first time in weeks, I felt a glimmer of hope.

Maybe, just maybe, we could find our way back to each other.

The morning's heartfelt apology set the tone for what became one of the most memorable days Lando and I had spent together in weeks.

While I was still guarded, I couldn’t deny that he was trying, really trying, to make things right.

As I got ready to leave the house, he was already by my side, holding my hand, his other arm slung casually around my shoulder.

“I promised today would be all about you,” he said, giving me that signature soft smile.

“So, where to first?”

We started with a trip to the mall. At first, I felt a little awkward, hesitant to fully enjoy the experience.

But Lando was like a lovesick puppy, following me from store to store, holding my bags, and insisting I buy anything that caught my eye.

“Do you like this dress?” I asked, holding up a flowy sundress against myself.

“I love it,” he said without hesitation. “But I’d probably love anything on you.”

I rolled my eyes at his smooth comment but couldn’t help the blush creeping up my cheeks. “You’re just saying that.”

“Nope,” he replied, grabbing the dress and adding it to the pile of things he’d insisted on buying.

From clothes to accessories, he didn’t say no to anything.

When I protested, saying he was spending too much, he brushed it off.

“I’d spend everything on you, Y/N,” he said with such sincerity it made my heart ache.

Afterward, he took me to my favorite café for lunch.

The cozy little place was one we often went to in the early days of our relationship, and the nostalgia hit me hard as we sat down.

“I missed this,” I admitted as I sipped my coffee.

“Me too,” Lando said, reaching across the table to hold my hand.

“And I’m going to make sure we never lose this again.”

Next, he surprised me with a visit to a local pottery studio.

I couldn’t help but laugh when Lando struggled to shape a vase, the clay slipping through his fingers.

“Okay, you’re supposed to keep your hands steady,” I teased, leaning over to guide him.

“Oh, so now you’re an expert?” he joked, though his grin softened as I showed him how to shape the clay.

It was messy, chaotic, and perfect.

By the end, we both had clay smudged on our faces, and we were laughing like we hadn’t in weeks.

From there, we stopped at a flower shop.

Lando picked out the biggest bouquet of my favorite flowers, holding it out to me with a boyish grin.

“For you,” he said, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“You’re really pulling out all the stops today, aren’t you?” I teased, though my heart swelled as I buried my nose in the fragrant blooms.

“Only the best for my girl,” he replied, his tone playful but his eyes serious.

For the rest of the day, he didn’t leave my side.

He held my hand as we walked through the streets, his arm draped protectively around me whenever we stopped to rest.

He peppered me with kisses at every opportunity; on my cheek, my forehead, my temple.

“You’re being extra clingy today,” I said with a small laugh as he pulled me into another hug.

“Making up for lost time,” he murmured, his chin resting on the top of my head.

Bit by bit, the walls I’d built around my heart began to crumble.

His efforts felt genuine, and I found myself smiling more easily, the hurt from the night before slowly fading into the background.

By the time we got home, the sun was setting, painting the sky in soft shades of pink and orange.

We were both tired but happy as we curled up on the couch together.

Lando tucked me under his arm, his fingers gently tracing patterns on my shoulder.

“Y/N,” he said after a long moment of silence.

His tone was serious, and I looked up at him curiously.

“Yeah?”

“I need to say this again because you deserve to hear it,” he began, his voice steady but filled with emotion.

“I’m so sorry for everything, for neglecting you, for forgetting our anniversary, for making you feel like you weren’t my priority. You are my priority, Y/N. You’re the best thing in my life, and I hate that I made you feel otherwise.”

His words hit me straight in the chest, and I felt tears pricking at the corners of my eyes.

“I know I hurt you,” he continued, his hand cupping my cheek as he looked into my eyes.

“But I swear, I’ll spend every day proving how much I love you. I’ll never let you feel like that again.”

My heart felt full as I reached up to hold his hand.

“You’ve done a lot for me today, Lando,” I said softly.

“And it’s helped. I can see how much you mean it.”

“So... does that mean you forgive me?” he asked, his tone hopeful but cautious.

I smiled, leaning up to kiss him. “Yeah, I forgive you.”

The relief on his face was almost comical, and he immediately began peppering my face with kisses, my cheeks, my forehead, my nose, even the corners of my lips.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” he murmured between kisses, his joy infectious.

Just when I thought the day was over, Lando suddenly sat up.

“Wait, I have one last thing,” he said, standing and disappearing into the other room.

I frowned, confused, as he returned with a small envelope in hand.

“What is this?” I asked as he handed it to me.

“Open it,” he urged, a playful but nervous glint in his eyes.

I carefully tore open the envelope, and my breath caught as I pulled out two plane tickets.

My eyes widened as I read the destination: Maldives.

“Lando… are you serious?” I asked, my voice trembling with disbelief.

He grinned. “You’ve always said you wanted to go. So, I booked us a two-week stay. Just you and me. No distractions.”

Tears welled in my eyes as I looked at him, overwhelmed.

“You didn’t have to do this…”

“Yes, I did,” he said firmly, pulling me into his arms.

“I’ll do anything to make you happy, Y/N. Anything.”

I hugged him tightly, burying my face in his chest.

“Thank you,” I whispered.

“I love you,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of my head.

“I love you too,” I replied, my voice muffled but sincere.

We settled back into the couch, cuddled up together, the weight of the past few weeks finally lifting.

After a long silence, I broke it with a playful smile.

“If you ever neglect me like that again, I’m breaking up with your ass,” I teased.

Lando laughed, his arms tightening around me. “Fair enough. But don’t worry, I won’t. Not ever again.”

And for the first time in weeks, I believed him.

The end

[aajjks]

Bf!Toji Masturbation Headcanons.

warnings: éxpílíct smút, 18+ thémés, másturbátion, phóne séx, yándéré tójì, bf tójì, big díck tójì, prófáníty, mdní.

note. hot 🥵 I promise. enjoy this in the cold weather my loves <3

Toji who is so horny all the time it’s impossible for you to keep up with his needs and sex drive.

Toji who loves you so much, he is borderline obsessed with you and so needy, he’s not ashamed of it. You are such a sexy woman that his body automatically reacts to you.

Toji who can’t help but fail, in controlling his libido. Because it’s your fault— you make it hard and you make it impossible.

Toji who feels bad for keeping you up all night long and fucking you until you can’t walk straight and feel him for days.

But then one day, you give him a solution to this problem.

And that solution? It’s so simple..

Toji is a speechless mess when you suggest masturbation to him in order to relieve himself and relief you too.

At first, Toji… who is really confused and angry at your suggestion because it feels like to him that you don’t want him anymore or maybe that you’re tired of him and this relationship..

But when you look at him with those eyes of yours and politely explain your problem that it is hard for you to keep up with him sometimes? He understands.

Toji who actually takes your suggestion seriously, and tries to work on it.

The problem is though that he’s always horny for you.

It doesn’t help when you’re talking to him on the phone and the sound of your voice is making his cock harden instantly, even when you’re not there.

So he, remembering your suggestion, slowly lets his sweatpants down, talking to you in that breathy deep voice of his.

“Mhmm yeah keep talkin’ baby… mhmm yeah? Hm? Really she said that? What a bitch.” he listens to you rant, you had a bad day at work because of a bitchy coworker of yours.

Mina that coworker of yours deserves to have a special place in hell for herself for giving you a hard time and he will personally make sure that she does but right now all he cares about is getting off.

His dick is painfully hard. The more you talk the more it gets reactive and harder.

Toji takes it out of his boxers, the hard leaking thick cock of his pulsing in his hand as he stares at it, his eyes widen in surprise and fascination.

The cock pulses the more you talk, Toji groans as he finally starts to touch himself, “I-Uhhh yeah yeah ‘m listenin’ to you baby- ah yeah..yeahhh.”

You don’t catch on the way he’s so beathless and almost dazed, you are too busy being angry at your coworker to notice his tone changing

He touches the tip, squeezing it and he groans in pain & pleasure, he bites his hand to muffle the sound.

“Uh no… no no it’s nothing keep talking. I just I fucking hit myself accidentally…” he laughs, stroking his hard thick length.

He’s going to cum soon. He strokes it harder, squeezing, he closes his eyes, suddenly imagining your mouth on him instead of his hand, you gagging and choking-

Making a saliva filled, disgusting mess on his cock as you take him deeper in your throat.

“O-Oh fuck mmm- yn can you tell me you love me?”

He suddenly quickly interrupts your rant, “p-please fuckin- just- *pants* tell me you love me okay?”

“Toji darling are you OK? What kind of request is this? I’m literally so angry right now.” You ask him out of concern and that turns him on even more.

“J-Just fuckin tell me shhh…” he strokes himself harder.

“Ugh okay fine. I love you so much.” You angrily grumble and that’s what gets him cumming super hard on his own hands, he keeps cumming as he finally lets out a guttural moan into the phone.

“T-Thank you princess mhmm looks like your remedy worked. Just had a mind blowing orgasm. Now keep ranting.”

He laughs and you’re just so speechless.

[lyrifaun]

Please, dear god, be kind to the people in these positions. I spent 7 years in the call center trenches and it makes such a difference when people are kind to you and patient. People are so awful to call agents on a daily basis. They get screamed at and cussed out for things that aren’t their fault all the time. I promise that someone being kind on call makes their day so much better. Wish them a smooth shift.

Keep in mind that half the tedious questions and confirmations asked are things they have to ask— either they are required to read you disclosures or they are required to confirm identity or the like, and they usually have metrics that require them to keep calls a certain length (even when that’s totally unfair). Remember they are being driven with the cruel stick of metrics and required scripts that are not their idea and probably just as much of a pain to them as they are to you.

From my days working chat lines— please be EXTRA patient! Chat agents spend all day with customers assuming they are a robot and taking out frustrations on them as such, or being weird and creepy to them or being creepy just because someone thinks its funny. There’s little empathy over the phone and even less over chat.

Half the time the agent is required to talk to several people at once (again, not their choice) and also usually required to send a message every few minutes or so in order to not be penalized— even if they are looking something up or waiting for you to complete a step. It can feel annoying or like they are rushing you, but they likely have to check in. For me, this was every three minutes.

Also! Filling out surveys is important! Sometimes their metrics include survey ratings, and a lot of curmudgeons who are experiencing a problem and just looking to take it out on someone will rate you a 1/10 out of spite and totally tank your rating. If you get a survey and your agent helped you at all, a good survey review does wonders!! Help balance out the bullies! And don’t be that guy who never rates 5/5 even for excellent service because “oh i never rate anything 5/5.”

FULL POST OF DESIGNS DEDICATED TO UNDERAPPRECIATED JOBS!

These were all made with the idea to bring some more attention to the underdogs of the working world. More designs may be added as time goes along. Show your support by sporting these designs on a shirt, sticker, notebook, etc. from my Redbubble!

Individual Links:

Call Center Workers Teachers Retail Workers Unpaid Interns Cleaning Workers Factory Workers Food Workers

ALL THE ARTWORK CONTAINED IN THIS POST IS MINE. DO NOT ATTEMPT TO COPY, CLAIM OR REPOST THIS WORK. © Hayleigh West Nover

[pencil-n-pen]

SPILL YOUR GUTS

˚₊‧꒰ა . ——— ˗ˏˋ ✮ ˎˊ˗ ——— ˖ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

practice boyfriend! eddie x fem! reader

summary: eddie’s your practice boyfriend. you’re positive he’s upset at you and you’re waiting for him to get mad. however, he has a different response in mind.

cw: references/allusions to past child abuse but extremely vague, references/allusions to bad relationships (also pretty vague), reader acts on a learned response and assumes the worst about Eddie, anxiety

tags/tropes: angst, hurt/comfort (my brand!) sappy sappy romantic idiots, they kiss and figure their mess out at the end

a/n: this came to me in a vision

summary makes this sound smutty but i promise it’s not. this accidentally became disgustingly romantic. read at your own risk :)

࣪˖ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖

You’re positive Eddie’s mad at you.

Okay. Maybe positive is a strong word. But still.

You’ve only been fake/pretend/practice dating Eddie for about two weeks now. He’s the one who approached you with the offer— when you were in the Upside Down together, you’d made an off-hand comment about how you might die without ever having a real boyfriend- not one that mattered, anyway. It’s always kind of been a sore spot for you for a good portion of your life. Growing up, you didn’t really have the best relationship with your dad (Robin likes to call that “The understatement of the year, and we almost died.”) and out of the incredibly small handful of guys you’ve gone out with, none stuck around longer than a month and all ended in such equally, specifically, and uniquely horrific ways, you finally came to the conclusion you had to be fucking something up. What are the chances of all them ended so completely horribly?

After you all had decidedly not died in the Upside Down, Eddie approached you with an offer: pretend date him. You’re popular and well known enough that it’ll help get people off his back about the whole Chrissy/murders thing —even though he’s been absolved of all charges, the people of Hawkins hold grudges— and in exchange, you get a trial run of a relationship that won’t end unless you both agree too— you get to figure out what you’re doing wrong.

You feel bad about it, because even though you spend so much time together, you feel like a nervous wreck. All. The. Time.

You’re constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop— waiting for him to tell you that you’re too weird, that you’re not considerate enough, that you’re selfish, or that you talk too much.

But he never says any of it. All he ever tells you is the good things. He tells you how sympathetic you are, how kind you are, how good you are at remembering little details that matter. He tells you that you’re a good kisser.

(Yeah. Your first kiss, even after those failed relationships, ended up being with Eddie ‘The Freak’ Munson. You’re not quite sure you’ll ever forget how you felt when his lips —just a little cracked, but not rough— met yours; when his hair tickled your face and you could faintly smell the cigarette smoke that stubbornly clings to all of his clothes, no matter how many times he washes them. You didn’t tell him he was your first. That’s something you decided you couldn’t bear to share.

You kind of have a feeling he knows anyway, though.)

It all sets you on edge. You’re under no reassurance that you’re perfect. You’re currently questioning if you’re tolerable, from a romantic standpoint.

You know how you are. You’re clinging and you drink up reassurance like a dying man in the desert. You linger in his casual touches like it’s the first and last time you’ll ever feel them. You know you’re a lot. You know. You know that guys in a relationship don’t want ‘a lot’, they want a pretty thing to hang off their arm and laugh at what they say.

But you just… can’t.

You tried, and you tried, and you tried. But you always ended up being too much, or it didn’t work out for some other reason. You want more. You want to feel safe, and happy, and cherished and loved and all those things that only happen in the movies.

The ironic part of all of this is that when you first started setting out terms for your arrangement, Eddie had told you flat out: “This will only work if you are completely and one-hundred percent yourself. You gotta lay it all on me, angel.”

And so you had, and now you regret it because he’s upset about something.

You’d come over to his trailer at his request to ‘hang out’ while he went over DND stuff for his next campaign. Eddie does this a lot— he calls them ‘Neutral Dates’ where you’re not really doing anything in particular- most of the time, you’re both doing seperate things, but still just being in each other’s presence.

It’s nice. The majority of your friend circle consists of everyone involved with the Upside Down and that entire mess. You two are no Steve and Robin (you’re convinced those two have the kind of bond no one can replicate or break. Like the kind of bond stray cats get and then they have to be adopted together) but it’s still nice. To just be with someone.

Even if you feel like you’re walking on eggshells.

It’s not always eggshells. Sometimes, for a a few moments, you forget. You forget it’s all pretend. You forget he’s just a friend helping a friend fulfill a goal. That’s all.

You’ve almost forgotten just now, too— you’re too concerned about what you might’ve done.

He’s not acting angry, per-se, but he’s definitely upset. You tend to pick up on this kind of thing: small changes in someone’s personality or body language. Most of the time it’s not a conscious habit.

Most of the time.

Right now, he’s run his hands through his hair about a million times. It’s become a frizzy mess behind him, and when you’d made an offhand joke about it —an attempt to lighten the mood— all he’d done was scowl. Not at you, really, but the message was there. You’d snapped your jaw shut so fast you’re pretty sure he heard your teeth click.

After that he’d frustratedly made tea for the both of you, which consisted of opening the cupboards faster than he usually did, closing them slightly louder than he usually does, and drumming his fingers impatiently on the stove-top while he waited for the kettle to boil.

All of this you observed from the corner of your eye while ‘reading’ on the couch.

And if all of that wasn’t bad enough, when you’d finally mustered up the courage to speak again, a little joke about a part in the book you were reading, all he’d said was a flat:

“That’s great, babe.”

You’re starting to get antsy. Nervous. Maybe you should go? Unless he gets upset at you leaving. That would be bad. But he’s clearly upset with you being here, so maybe you should go.

While you’re debating the pros and cons of leaving, you try to remain as still and silent as possible. No need to upset him anymore by moving too much or being too loud.

You flip a page in the book you’re no longer reading (he might notice you’re not paying attention to it anymore) and decide to test the waters again.

“The author just spelled restaurant wrong. That’s the third spelling mistake I’ve caught in this book.”

“Hmm.”

Okay. So that was worse. Talking to him is out of the question, then. It must be something you did, to warrant this kind of reaction.

You wrack your brain, trying to think of anything you could’ve done in recent hours to make him upset, but you can’t think of anything.

You glance slightly to the right— not far enough that he’ll see you looking at him, but far enough to get a better look at him in your peripheral. He’s glaring down at his campaign notebook. Shit, he looks so angry.

Unbidden, tears begin to well in your eyes and you try to shift, trying to angle yourself away from him enough that he can’t see the tears in your eyes.

But your hand shifts, knocking into his leg.

Fuck. “Sorry!”

You yank you arm back as if burned, jolting back on the couch so you’re in no danger of touching him. “I’m sorry!”

He sits up, immediately snapping to attention at the desperation coloring your voice. “Woah woah, hey. Hey, what’s going on? Are you okay?”

You take a steadying breath. “Did I do something wrong?”

He blinks blankly at you. Oh shit, you’re supposed to know that you’ve done something wrong.

“I mean,” You hurry to correct, “I know I— Can you tell me what I did wrong so I can fix it?”

Understanding floods his features and you brace yourself, ready for the reprimand.

“Can I touch you?”

Now it’s your turn to stare with confusion. You nod once, briefly thinking about how weird it is to ask for permission first.

He sits up on the couch, facing you with his legs crossed, the couch springs squeaking loudly at his movement. You resist the urge to wince. He reaches out with a slow hand, taking the hand that’s still clenched, held away from him and up near your chest.

He stares down at your hand, holding it with his left hand and tracing delicate shapes on it with his right. His ringed fingers drag lines around your knuckles and veins, lingering occasionally over the odd, old scar.

“How long did you think I was upset with you?”

Your heart is racing, muscles tensed and ready to bolt. “Um. A few hours? Maybe?”

You’re hyper-aware of the grip he has on your hand, and how quickly and easy it could become crushing.

It doesn’t.

“Bug,” He says slowly after a moment. At first he used to use pet names as a joke— it was something you’d laugh at, between the two of you, since the relationship wasn’t real.

But recently, he’s been saying them with a different inflection in his tone. A little less teasing, a lot more fond.

“Have you spent the past few hours afraid that I was mad at you?”

He sounds… sad. Which is confusing. It doesn’t— he was. He was.

“But you were,” You say, suddenly unsure about anything and everything. “You were upset.”

“I was upset because I couldn’t work this part of the campaign out, and i’m dramatic. I was never mad at you, honey. I was never mad at you.”

You frown, gears turning in your head. “When I made that joke about your hair, you glared at me. And then when I tried to talk to you, you were upset. You didn’t want to talk.”

“I was jokingly glaring at you, I’m so sorry you thought I was serious. I wasn’t, I promise. I didn’t mean to be dismissive, I was really focusing on writing.”

You’re both silent for a moment. A beat too long. You want to squirm in the unwelcome space the silence has created.

“What did you think I was going to do?”

That is a loaded question.

“I don’t know,” You pick at a loose thread on the couch cushion. “I don’t— I don’t know. That’s the problem. You don’t yell at me, or get angry, or tell me when i’ve made you upset. I don’t know what you’ll do.”

He makes a wounded noise in his throat.

“I know you get angry,” You bulldoze on, “I’ve seen it. You’re so… loud, in everything you do. I know you get angry. But you never get that same kind of loud angry at me and I don’t know what to do because that means that I upset you and you don’t tell me about it and then I don’t know how to fix it. I have to fix it, Eddie.”

His eyes, deep and brown, search your face. He reaches up a hand, painfully slow, to cup your face. Your eyelids flutter shut, and you tip your head to the side, leaning into the job.

“I’m gonna tell you something, Bug. Are you listening?” He waits for you to hum in confirmation before continuing. “You’re not responsible for my moods. Or anyone else’s for that matter. That’s not your job. You don’t have to fix it.”

He reaches his second hand up to cup the other side of your face. “You know why I don’t get angry at you? Not all loud and dramatic like that? Because I’ve seen how you react when people do. And I never, ever want to be the reason you get that look in your eye. I never want to make you afraid. I never want you to believe, with proof and confidence, that I’ve grown sick of you.”

You open your eyes, eyes darting across the planes of his face. Searching for even the smallest hint, the smallest giveaway that he might be lying.

You can’t find any. In its place, you find eyes, shining with pure determination. You find lips parted ever so slightly, a sad-sort of smile being etched into being. You find two hands on your face, thumbs delicately sweeping across the skin of your under-eye, of your cheekbone. Smoothing away the steady tears that had begun falling, wiping away the hot trails they leave on your face.

And you realize all at once that love isn’t like the movies. It isn’t picture-perfect kisses. It isn’t ball gowns and dresses and kisses in the rain. It isn’t like the love you thought you were supposed to have: empty and hollow; a life of hanging off of arms and praying your next slip-up didn’t cost you your relationship.

It was this.

It was just being. Just being and knowing the other person is there for just that— for you. It was not raising your voice. It was carrying extra hair-ties. It was making two cups of coffee. It was steeping tea for an extra couple of minutes, just the way he liked it. It was playing your favorite music in the car, and looking over at each other during the bridge, belting the lyrics with the same, toothy-smile. So full and so happy you just keep screaming the lyrics, because you’re filled with so much you don’t know where to put it all.

Your tears begin to fall in earnest now. Your heart is thudding in your chest, but for a different reason now. You’re struck with the need to convey all of this to him— to tell him you understand, you know, you feel the same.

“These hair ties,” You shove your wrist up to his eye-line. “They’re for you. Because you always forget your own. And— and I steep the tea for a few extra minutes, because you like your tea strong, and you didn’t just find that tape in your van, I bought it ‘cause I know you lost the old one in the Upside Down, ‘cause it felt out of your pocket.”

You’re babbling, nearly choking on your tears and your words, rushing them all out of your mouth in an aching wish to be understood, in this very moment.

“I know,” He says, voice a little hysteric and eyes a little too bright. His lip wobbles. He presses your face tighter in his hands. “I know. I know. I see you. I see you.”

You stay like that for a little while. At some point, your hands find his wrists, and then you’re just two fools, smiling like idiots with tears streaming down your faces, staring into each others eyes.

Eventually, Eddie clears his throat. “The next time you think I’m upset at you, you tell me, okay? You can ask. You can ask me and I pinky promise I won’t get mad.”

You giggle wetly. “Pinky swear?”

“Pinky swear,” He says, taking his left hand away from your face to hold up his pinky. You intertwine yours and his together, the both of you laughing at the ridiculousness of it all.

He gets quiet for a moment; removes his hands from your face and instead clasps, your hands together, resting in your lap.

“You know why I never tell you when you’re being a bad practice girlfriend?” He says, his voice low and soft.

“How come?”

He smiles, full and good. “Because you’re not. You’re so sweet and kind and loving. And if you’d let me, I’d really like to kiss you right now.”

You furrow your brows. “The real kind? The I-love-you kind?”

Your face flushes over the words ‘I love you.’

“I’ve always kissed you for real,” He says, words laden with fondness. “Ever since the day we met and you slapped the shit out of me for being stupid. I’ve been hopelessly obsessed ever since. I’ve just been waiting for you to notice.”

You suck in a breath. “So all of this— the, the dates and the hanging out and the kissing— that’s all been real?”

“Every last bit.”

“Then in that case,” You say, squeezing his hands. “I would very much like you to kiss me.”

He leans in, slotting your lips together and everything just clicks. Like this is where you’re meant to be. Maybe it’s puppy love. Maybe it’s not.

All you know is that Eddie Munson is kissing you for real, and he always has been. You couldn’t ask for anything better.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

[cybrasigilism]

NSFW ALPHABET with Player 333 (Lee Myung-gi)

warnings: smut and all things of the like, you know the drill! | not proofread | lowercase intended | these are my headcanons for this character, please be respectful even if my opinions for the character differ from your own

character: lee myung-gi (player 333)

A/N: my notifications have spoken, and i really wanted to write another NSFW alphabet so it works out perfectly, i apologize for the missing letters but i genuinely couldn’t think of anything for him relating to them, so for now they’re absent! i think people need to go a little easier on player 333 especially since all the players in squid game are far from perfect! like yes he’s a pathetic little loser but he’s our pathetic little loser. anyways, hope you guys enjoy!

MDNI! 18+ content under the cut, readers discretion is advised

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

A= Aftercare what they’re like after sex

↳ he’s no god at aftercare, but he’ll definitely talk with you about the experience or even just anything you want afterwards. he does enjoy a good cuddle, especially if its following a particularly possessive round of fucking

B= Body part their favourite body part of theirs and of their partner’s

↳ for himself, he really likes his eyes, mainly because it was the first thing you complimented him on. and for his partner? he’ll come right out and say it, he loves your tits

C= Cum anything to do with cum, basically

↳ really into cum eating, not gonna elaborate

D= Dirty secret a dirty secret of theirs

↳ cries during sex, particularly after being overstimulated

E= Experience how much experience do they have? do they know what their doing?

↳ he’s only slept with 1 or 2 people before you, and your first time together he definitely did need some guidance but neither of you minded really. he likes when you tell him how to please you

F= Favourite Position this one speaks for itself

↳ because he’s totally possessive of you, any position that he can be in charge is one that myung-gi can get behind. really likes when he can put your legs over his shoulders, or when he can hold your thighs apart in a straddle as he fucks into you. trust that he’s going all the way in

I= Intimacy how are they in the moment, the romantic aspect?

↳ he definitely strikes me as the type who would lowkey be awkward about intimacy at first, but when you guys get into it and he gets more comfortable i really do feel like he gets super affectionate with you in bed

J= Jack off masturbation headcanons

↳ don’t ask, but he 100% uses audio porn to get off

K= Kink one or more of their kinks

↳ possessive sex, spanking, choking (esp if he’s the one being choked), dacryphilia

L= Location their favourite place to do the do

↳ dk if this counts as a location but he’d be down for mirror sex

M= Motivation what turns them on? what gets them going?

↳ lowkey getting jealous turns him on. if he feels like he’s gotta prove that you’re “his” to another person, he’ll be fighting off a killer boner

N= No something they won’t do

↳ threesomes, again with the possessiveness, that would really stop him from keeping his cool at the idea of having to “share”

O= Oral their preference on giving or receiving, how skilled are they etc.

↳ he prefers to get head; absolutely drives him insane when you gag on his cock and when you look up at him with mascara running down your face

P= Pace are they fast and rough? slow and sensual?

↳ if he’s feeling more intimate, expect a slow, gentle + sensual pace. its completely different when he’s feeling jealous, he’ll be merciless as he pounds into you

Q= Quickie their opinions on quickies

↳ um, yes he would love a quickie, what a question.

S= Stamina how many rounds can they go for? how long can they last?

↳ his stamina really fluctuates, but not in the way you’re expecting. he can actually go a bit longer after each orgasm, but only for a few rounds. expect him to cum within 3 minutes of the first round

T= Toys do they have toys? do they use them on themselves? on their partner?

↳ dude’s totally a freak, he’s got quite a few toys that he can use on his partner, the most notable being a paddle (gee, i didnt know we were canoeing), and of course he’s got a fleshlight for himself

U= Unfair how much they like being teased

↳ he acts like he hates it when you tease him, but in actuality it gets him really horny

V= Volume how loud are they? what sounds do they make?

↳ he gets pretty vocal, especially when getting head or when he’s feeling jealous. will often refer to you as being his, and how “no one else can make you feel as good as this, you’re mine.”

W= Wildcard a random headcanon for them

↳ lowkey has a daddy thing

X= X-ray what’s going on under those clothes?

↳ he’s got a pretty slim build. for size he’s fairly decent, around 5 1/2 - 6” when hard

Y= Yearning how high is their sex drive?

↳ don’t kid yourself, he’s got a pretty wicked sex drive. maybe it’s all that jealousy 🤔

Z= Zzz how quickly do they fall asleep after?

↳ at the end of the day, it all depends on how tired he is afterwards, but if he sees that you’re still awake he’ll try to stay up for you

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

thanks so much for reading! as always, any advice or constructive criticism on how i can improve my writing is appreciated and requested! have a beautiful day/night :)

tags: @agornotsworld @kvstjwonnie @marymustdie

[okwonyo]

CAN YOU SEE ME？ IM WAITING FOR THE RIGHT TIME ..

──── 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗒 𝖼𝖺𝗇’𝗍 𝗆𝖺𝗄𝖾 𝖺 𝗆𝗈𝗏𝖾, 𝗇𝗈 𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝖾𝗅𝗌𝖾 𝖼𝖺𝗇.

𝐁𝐀𝐆𝐒 ㅤㅤ𓈒 bsf!enhypen x fem!rea 7OO non-idol au fluff potential future relationship yearning ૮(^﹏^ ! skinship jealousy 【 MUSÉE 】

じや wrote this in a rush ! enjoy 🎀

rbs ✶ comments please + daily

𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆 ｡ ｡ watches you from a distance. with his eyes wide as a deer caught in the headlights, he doesn’t say anything or does anything about it— he just watches. he can’t help but observe your movements, the way you laugh or how you tuck your hair behind your ear while you talk to the other man. he studies you, sadness in his eyes, trying to find out if you are interested in someone other than him or not. “what?” you ask him when you see the grimace on his face. instead of answering, he questions you too, “do you like him?” relief washes over him in a wave when you shake your head, “i thought we were just talking but he wanted more,” then you add, “i’d rather spend time with you”.

⠀ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ﹙ᵕ ᵕ⠀look under the cut ! ♡

𝐉𝐀𝐘 ｡ ｡ is always near you. in any circumstances, in any sort of place. if you are near, he is too— almost as if he was your bodyguard or, you as you prefer to say, guardian angel. any person that approaches you, approaches him too and needs to get approved by him to even talk to you. therefore, there is no need to explain that when a guy tries to talk to you, they get hit by a presence impossible to ignore right behind you. the menacing glares can make anyone pale and stumble over their words in front of you. and the funniest part, is that you are well aware of that but decide to act clueless— always shooting a fake confused look at him before smiling sweetly when yet another man runs away from you.

𝐉𝐀𝐊𝐄 ｡ ｡ as your known best friend, many people come to him when they wonder if you are single and try to find a way to ask you out. unfortunately for them, he is not only your best friend but also desperately and irrevocably in love with you. so, in lieu of giving proper answers and advice, he assures them that you are already taken, by no one else but him. and to be completely honest, it works quite well. he even likes to, just for the sake of the silly little lie— of course, be really clingy in front of others. you don’t mind, he has always been like that, and it makes him happy to touch you for a second and be your lover. even if it’s through everyone’s eyes but yours.

𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐍 ｡ ｡ he has a special radar for whoever has romantic interests towards you. i mean, he would know how having a crush ok you feels like. since he has been in love with you since primary school. so, where are both around someone who seems to like a you a little bit too much, he starts his extra-clingy and affectionate best friend act. draping his arm on your shoulders, talking to you nonstop and asking for your attention as soon as your eyes go on anywhere else but him. “are you drunk?” you laugh all of the time, not even annoyed in the slightest. he is drunk, drunk in love.

𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐎𝐎 ｡ ｡ he is unable to control his face when a guy comes to talk to you. he stares at him with a disgusted and utterly offended expression on the surface of his face. as soon as romance is being involved, he tugs you close without thinking— the petname ‘sweetheart’ even slip out. you don’t seem to mind, you only excuse yourself to your other interlocutor before focusing fully on your best friend. when you don’t look, he shoots to the flabbergasted man a very proud grin. he loves to be your favorite.

𝐉𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐖𝐎𝐍 ｡ ｡ he is flabbergasted, took over by immense disbelief and utter shock. he just watched the cashier shamelessly flirt with you— right in front of hom, without decorum. yes, he is not your boyfriend, but come on! he believes that the cashier should have been a little bit ashamed at least. “please,” he pleads as soon as you get out of the shop. “don’t tell me you are going to go out with that guy.” you immediately smile, a teasing question already tingling your tongue, “why? are you jealous?” his heart drops, his face reddens and he starts walking as you chuckle.

𝐑𝐈𝐊𝐈 ｡ ｡ uses all his strength to try to not be jealous— alas, he fails as soon as he even thinks about you and that ‘nobody’ together. he looks at you with sad eyes and a frown, as if he was a kicked puppy, whereupon you tell him you got asked on a date by the stranger. “wouldn’t you rather spend time with me?” he asks you, and you giggle. “what? this guy will be boring in two weeks but, i will be fun forever.” this idiot isn’t even able to contain his happiness when you tell him that he is right, that you will stay with him tonight. he is so happy that he hugs you, tight.

𓈒ㅤㅤ𓈒 taglist open & network : @sgz-net

[pandapetals]

Sexting

Logan's been gone on a mission for days now. You miss him terribly and one little text spirals into sexting.

logan howlett x fem!reader - inspired by a tiktok i saw, teasing banter, sexting, flirting, established relationship, smut, phone sex, masturbation, orgasms, dirty talk, cocky logan, dominant/possessive logan, pet names used, good girl praising

a/n: horny era entered.

divider credit: @enchanthings

The day had dragged on, each hour stretching longer than the last. Between the endless grind at work, the knot of stress coiling tighter in your chest, and nearly everyone testing the limits of your patience, you felt utterly wrung out. By the time the sun sank below the horizon, all you wanted was to melt into Logan’s arms—strong, steady, and always warm, like they were built to shield you from the rest of the world.

But Logan wasn’t here. He’d been sent off on a mission three days ago with no clear answer to the question that gnawed at you the most: When would he come home? Three days felt like three weeks, and the ache of missing him was a dull, constant hum beneath your skin.

You had done everything you could to fill the space he left behind. His pillow now wore one of his shirts, the fabric soft and faintly infused with his scent. You’d sprayed it with his cologne—too much, honestly, but the sharp, musky notes helped. At night, you’d curl around it, imagining his arms around you instead, but it was never the same. You missed the rough timbre of his voice, the way he’d smirk and toss out some gruff remark that made you laugh. You even missed how his scruff would scrape against your cheek when he kissed you.

Now, you were sprawled across the bed, Logan’s stand-in pillow hugged close as your thumb aimlessly scrolled through your phone. A familiar pang of longing twisted your stomach as you stumbled across a photo of a couple kissing under twinkling lights. You sighed and were about to toss your phone aside when it buzzed in your hand, a new message lighting up the screen.

Logan: I miss you so much, gorgeous.

Your heart clenched, a smile tugging at your lips before you could help it. You quickly typed back:

You: Miss you too, handsome.

Your fingers hovered over the keyboard, the ache of missing him pressing harder than ever. A mischievous thought sparked in your mind, and before you could second-guess yourself, you typed it out.

You: You should send me a photo of your bicep for being gone so long.

The typing bubble appeared almost instantly, and you could practically hear Logan’s low chuckle in your head.

Logan: That so?

Before you could reply, your phone buzzed, and a new image loaded on the screen. The photo made your breath hitch. Logan was sprawled out on what looked like a worn motel bed, his shirt pushed up to his chest, exposing the hard ridges of his abs. But the star of the show was his arm, flexed in a way that showed off every curve of his bicep. The dim lighting cast shadows that deepened the definition of his muscles, and the veins stood out just enough to make your mouth dry.

You swallowed, your face heating as you bit your lip. His usual teasing smirk wasn’t visible in the photo, but you could feel it like it was carved into the very pixels of the screen.

Another message buzzed in.

Logan: Feel better, honey?

You groaned, the grin tugging at your lips both frustrated and helplessly smitten.

You: No. Now I just really want to bite your bicep.

His reply came faster than you expected.

Logan: You’ll have to be patient, sweetheart. But don’t worry, I’ll let you.

Your stomach flipped, heat pooling low in your belly as you stared at his words. God, you could hear his voice so clearly, that deep, teasing rasp that always made your pulse skip.

You: You’re cruel, you know that?

Logan: Cruel would be reminding you how good my hands feel on you. But I won’t do that. Not while I’m stuck in this dump, thinking about what I’d do if I were there instead.

Your breath caught, and your thumb hovered uncertainly over the screen. You could feel the shift in his tone, that familiar heat creeping into his words even through text.

You: What would you do, Logan?

The typing bubble appeared, then disappeared, like he was taking his time to think—or maybe to make you squirm. When his reply finally came, it hit you like a jolt of lightning.

Logan: First, I’d pin you to the bed. Then I’d take my time—slow, deliberate—just to hear you beg. You’d look so good under me, darlin’. I can practically see it.

Your thighs pressed together instinctively, heat rolling through you in waves.

You: You’re not playing fair.

Logan: I never do. 

You couldn’t argue with that. Every word, every teasing reply, every memory of his hands on you was like a match to dry kindling, leaving you aching for him in almost unbearable ways. You leaned back against the pillows, closing your eyes as your fingers hovered over your phone, your imagination already running wild.

Before you could think of a reply, your phone buzzed again.

Logan: I miss your body, but you know what I miss more? The way you look at me after. That soft, sleepy, satisfied look, like I’m the only man in the world who can make you feel that way.

Your heart clenched, warmth blooming in your chest and mingling with the heat already simmering there. God, you wanted him so badly it was a physical ache.

You: You’re going to kill me, Logan.

Logan: Nah, honey. Just keeping you hungry for me. Trust me, I’m starving over here too.

His words wrapped around you like a warm, possessive embrace, filling the void he’d left behind. Though hundreds of miles separated you, for a moment, it almost felt like he was there—his rough hands sliding over your skin, his lips grazing that sensitive spot just beneath your jaw, the weight of his body. The ache of missing him was unbearable, pressing hard and heavy in your chest. You buried your face in his pillow, inhaling the faint remnants of his scent, but it only made the longing sharper.

Your thumb hovered over the screen as you finally typed back, giving in to your own need to feel closer to him:

You: I’ve been sleeping with your pillow... making it wear your shirt.

The reply came almost immediately, his words brimming with that familiar mix of teasing and heat that sent a thrill rushing through you.

Logan: Bet you’ve been doing naughty things to it too.

Your breath caught, your face flushing as you stared at the screen. Damn him. How did he always know? He had an almost supernatural ability to read you, even from miles away. You bit your lip, the memory of those late, lonely nights flashing vividly in your mind—the way you’d pressed his pillow between your thighs, imagining it was him, imagining his weight, his heat, his voice in your ear telling you to let go. You knew when he got home, he’d take one deep inhale and know exactly what you’d done.

Your fingers trembled as you typed back, heart pounding.

You: Maybe I have. What are you gonna do about it?

The three little dots of his reply appeared, then disappeared, then reappeared, drawing out the tension until you wanted to scream. When the message finally popped up, it was pure Logan.

Logan: Oh, sweetheart, you know what I’ll do. First, I’ll ask you to tell me exactly what you did. Then I’d make you show me. And I wouldn’t let you stop until you were begging.

Heat shot through your body, pooling low in your belly as you shifted restlessly on the bed. Your lips parted, a soft breath escaping as your imagination ran wild, conjuring the image of him above you, his rough hands and deep voice taking you apart piece by piece.

You glanced at your phone’s camera, a bold idea sparking in your mind. If Logan wanted to play, you’d show him you could hold your own. Slowly, you sat up, slipping the strap of your tank top down one shoulder. The fabric slid lower, exposing more of your skin, and your pulse raced as you positioned the camera just right. The click of the shutter sounded louder than it should have, your heart hammering as you looked at the result—a sultry shot of your bare shoulder, collarbone, and the faintest hint of cleavage.

You attached the photo to the message and typed, fingers trembling slightly:

You: Think you can handle this when you get home?

The response came almost instantly, and it was clear you’d hit your mark.

Logan: Jesus Christ, darlin’!

A second message followed:

Logan: You trying to kill me?

You smirked, a wave of confidence washing over you as you typed back.

You: Just keeping you on your toes. You’re the one who said you’d pin me down, remember?

His reply was a voice note this time, and when you pressed play, the low, gravelly sound of his voice sent a shiver straight through you.

Logan (voice note): Oh, I remember. And trust me when I get back, you won’t be walking straight for days. You keep teasing me like this, and I’m gonna make sure you pay for every second of it.

Your thighs clenched as you listened to the raw hunger in his tone, heat blooming across your skin. But you weren’t done teasing him yet.

You adjusted your tank top a little lower, this time snapping a photo that showed more—the curve of your chest, the line of your neck, the look in your eyes that you knew would drive him wild. You sent it without a caption, letting the image speak for itself.

The reply came in seconds.

Logan: You better not be touching yourself right now. That’s mine.

A thrill ran through you at the possessiveness in his words.

You: What if I am?

Another voice note came through, this one darker. His voice dropped an octave, sending goosebumps racing down your arms.

Logan (voice note): Don’t you dare finish without me, sweetheart. When I get home, you’re going to come on my fingers, my tongue, and then my—

You couldn’t stop the whimper that slipped out as you hit pause, your whole body burning with need.

You: Logan...

Logan: You started this, gorgeous. Don’t get shy on me now.

You sighed, biting your lip as your fingers tightened around your phone. Heat simmered low in your belly, and your heart raced as you debated your next move. Logan was right—you had started this, and now there was no turning back. Your thumb hovered over the screen for a moment, your nerves threatening to get the better of you, but the longing for him—his touch, his voice, the way he looked at you—overpowered everything else.

With a deep breath, you hit the video call button. The screen flickered for a moment, your reflection briefly staring back at you before the call connected. And then there he was.

Logan appeared on your screen, lying back against the headboard of some cheap motel bed. The light in the room was dim, but it did nothing to dull the sharp angles of his jaw or the piercing heat in his eyes. He had one arm tucked lazily behind his head, the other holding the phone, but there was nothing casual about how he looked at you—like he could devour you through the screen.

A slow, almost predatory smirk curved his lips. “There’s my pretty girl. For a second, I thought you’d chickened out.”

You swallowed hard, the sound of his voice making your pulse race. “You’ve got me all flustered,” you admitted, your voice softer than you intended.

Logan’s chuckle was low and rough like gravel sliding over honey. “Sweetheart, you’re the one teasing me,” he said, his gaze raking over you through the screen. “All I did was tell you what I wanted to do when I get home. But if I’m being honest…” His smirk widened, his tongue sliding briefly over his bottom lip. “I don’t think either one of us can wait that long.”

A shiver ran down your spine at his words. He shifted slightly, and the movement made his shirt pull tight across his chest and shoulders, the fabric doing little to hide the hard lines of muscle underneath. You let out a breath.

“Logan…” you whispered, but it came out more like a plea than you intended.

His voice softened, the teasing giving way to something more intimate. “Yeah, darlin’?”

Your fingers gripped the phone tighter as you adjusted the angle, letting the camera catch the way your tank top clung to your body, how the strap had slipped off one shoulder. His eyes darkened instantly, the air between you thickening even through the distance.

“Show me,” he murmured, his tone low and commanding. “You’ve been driving me crazy all night. Now I want to see you, pretty girl. Let me see what’s mine.”

Your breath hitched, heat flooding your cheeks, but how he was looking at you made it impossible to resist. Slowly, your free hand trailed down your neck and over your collarbone, lingering at the edge of your top. His gaze tracked every movement, his jaw clenching as he exhaled heavily.

“Good girl,” he rasped, his voice like a caress. “Keep going.”

You couldn’t help the small, breathy sound that escaped your lips as you let the fabric slide lower, revealing just enough to leave him wanting more. His hand moved slightly on his end of the screen, and you had a pretty good idea of what he was doing.

“Logan,” you breathed, your voice trembling with nervousness and excitement.

“Don’t stop,” he urged, his tone rougher now, filled with a hunger that sent a rush of heat straight through you. “You’re so fucking beautiful. God, I can’t wait to get my hands on you again.”

Your fingers trembled as you slid your tank top down, the cool air brushing over your bare skin, making your breath hitch. Logan’s eyes burned into you through the screen, the teasing smirk on his lips softening into something darker, more primal. His gaze wasn’t just hungry—it was devouring like he wanted to memorize every inch of you even from miles away.

“Goddamn,” he muttered, his voice a low growl that sent shivers racing down your spine. “You’re perfect. Absolutely perfect.”

Your cheeks flushed, heat blooming under his praise, but it only fueled the fire building inside you. Biting your lip, you whispered, “Show me what you’re doing.”

The words came out so soft you weren’t sure he’d heard you, but then his lips curved into a wicked grin that made your stomach flip. “You sure about that, sweetheart?” he asked, his tone rough and teasing.

You nodded, unable to find your voice, your pulse thundering in your ears.

Logan shifted slightly, the phone shaking just enough to make your anticipation climb. He adjusted the angle, tilting the camera lower until the frame revealed the sharp lines of his abs disappearing beneath the waistband of his sweatpants. Your breath caught as he pulled the fabric down just enough to show you the outline of his arousal, his hand wrapped around himself, moving slowly, deliberately.

“See what you do to me?” he muttered, his voice thick with desire. His hand stroked lazily, his movements unhurried, like he wanted you to feel every second of it. “Every damn time, darlin’. I can’t even think straight when it comes to you.”

Your heart stuttered, your thighs pressing together instinctively as heat pooled low in your belly. The sight of him, the way his body tensed with every stroke, the way his breath hitched as he watched you—it was almost too much.

“Logan…” you breathed, your voice trembling with need.

“Keep going,” he rasped, his eyes flickering back up to meet yours. They were dark and intense, filled with raw hunger. “I want to see all of you, gorgeous. Don’t hold back on me now.” 

Your free hand drifted down your body with deliberate slowness, tracing the curves of your waist and the soft plane of your stomach, until your fingertips brushed the waistband of your underwear. The fabric felt impossibly delicate under your touch, and your breath hitched as you let your fingers linger there, teasing both yourself and him.

Logan’s eyes burned through the screen, dark and hungry, following every movement of your hand. His jaw tightened, and you saw the flex of his arm as his strokes grew just a bit faster, his breath hitching in rhythm. The tension between you was unbearable, a crackling heat that made the distance between you feel almost cruel.

“Don’t stop,” Logan rasped, his voice rough and uneven. “I need to see you. All of you.”

The raw need in his voice sent a shiver racing through you, your pulse pounding as you slowly tilted the phone. The angle shifted, and the screen filled with the sight of your bare skin, the way your hand dipped beneath the fabric of your underwear, teasing at the heat there. A soft, breathless sound slipped from your lips as your fingers began to move, exploring yourself with slow, deliberate strokes.

Logan groaned a low, guttural sound that sent a wave of heat washing over you. “Fuck, darlin’,” he muttered, his voice thick with need. His phone shifted slightly, and your eyes flicked to the screen to see his hand moving more urgently now, his chest rising and falling in uneven breaths. “You’re so goddamn beautiful. Look at you… so wet for me.”

The heat of his words made your thighs tremble as your body arched instinctively, your hand moving in sync with the rising tension in his voice. The soft, wet sounds of your fingers moving against your slick heat filled the air between you, and you bit your lip, trying—and failing—to muffle the needy whimper that escaped.

“That’s it, good girl,” Logan growled, his tone both commanding and reverent. “Don’t hold back. I want to hear you. I want to see what I do to you.”

Your phone slipped slightly in your trembling hand, but you steadied it, angling it just enough to give him the view he craved. His reaction was instant—a sharp intake of breath, followed by a string of curses muttered under his breath.

“You’re gonna kill me,” he groaned, his hand faltering for a moment as he dragged his free hand through his hair, his head falling back against the headboard. “I can’t fucking wait to get my hands on you.

Your breath hitched, and you couldn’t stop the soft whimper that escaped your lips. “What would you do, Logan?” you asked in a shaky whisper.

His eyes darkened further, his expression turning almost feral. “I’d start by kissing you everywhere,” he growled. “Slow, soft, until you’re trembling for me. Then I’d pin your wrists above your head, hold you still so you’d have to feel every second of it while screaming my name.”

Your head fell back against the pillows as his words washed over you, the heat in his voice lighting up every nerve in your body.

“Keep touching yourself, sweetheart,” he urged, his tone both commanding and coaxing. “Such a good girl for me.”

His words pushed you closer to the edge, the ache in your body growing unbearable as your fingers moved faster, your breaths coming in soft, uneven gasps. “Logan,” you whimpered, his name a broken plea on your lips.

“Come for me,” he demanded, his voice low and rough like he could feel your tension through the screen. “I want to see it. I want to watch you fall apart for me.”

“You’re killing me,” you managed to whisper, your voice barely audible over the pounding of your heart.

His lips curved into a crooked, breathless smile. “You started it, gorgeous,” he said, his voice rough and uneven now. “And when I get home, I’m gonna finish it. Properly.”

The promise in his tone sent a fresh wave of heat through you, your body aching for him in ways that words couldn’t begin to describe. But for now, this was all you had—his voice, his eyes on you, the sound of his breath growing heavier as the two of you shared this moment across the distance.

“Logan…” you whimpered again, your body arching as you felt yourself reaching the edge.

“Let go for me. Good girl,” he murmured, his voice softening but losing none of its intensity. “Show me how good I make you feel.”

The heat in his tone, the intensity of his gaze, the way his hand was moving on himself—it all pushed you over the edge. Your body tensed, a sharp gasp slipping from your lips as the wave of release crashed over you, your hand faltering as you rode it out. Logan groaned deeply, his own release following seconds after, his head falling back as his chest heaved.

For a few moments, the two of you were silent, your breaths filling the space between you. Logan was the first to speak, his voice softer now, tinged with satisfaction and lingering desire. “Goddammit,” he muttered, his voice husky and low. “You’re gonna be the death of me, darlin’.”

You laughed breathlessly, your body still buzzing, your heart full. “I could say the same about you, handsome,” you teased, though your voice was still shaky.

He shook his head, his eyes softening as they locked onto yours through the screen. “You better be ready,” he said, his tone playful but underlined with a seriousness that made your stomach flip. “Because when I get back, I’m not letting you out of my sight—or my bed—for a very, very long time.”

“Promise?” you asked, your lips curving into a lazy, satisfied smile.

Logan’s grin turned wicked, his eyes gleaming. “Oh, it’s not a promise. It’s a guarantee.”

[chososbabymama]

Boyfriend!Sukuna who has a habit of saying ‘no’ when you ask him to do something as he immediately gets up to do what you asked.

Boyfriend!Sukuna who buys your pitbull a thick gold chain, ‘so the other dogs at the park take her seriously.’

Boyfriend!Sukuna who SWORE he wasn’t interested in your silly little tv shows but sits with you every Sunday to watch South Central Baddies.

Boyfriend!Sukuna who has a habit of chewing on things (bottle caps, pen caps, straws, etc.) so you buy him flavored toothpicks after he chewed the bottom of your favorite pen.

Boyfriend!Sukuna who bought you a huge bouquet of flowers because he knew you’d been feeling depressed the past couple of weeks and he missed seeing you smile.

Boyfriend!Sukuna who openly expresses his love for the way you handle Yuji, treating his nephew more like a son (Yuji definitely calls his uncle ‘dad’, and it makes both of you beam with joy each time).

Boyfriend!Sukuna who took great pleasure in being able to provide for you, taking you on trips, paying for your hair, treating you to dinner. In his mind, it was his way of saying thank you for taking care of him and being there . Always making sure Yuji was taken care of, doing the grocery shopping, not to mention you doing your own work for graduate school, Ryomen Sukuna would be a fool to not show you how much he valued you and your efforts.

Boyfriend!Sukuna who doesn't care to impress your folks. He knew he was a brash man, a little rough around the edges, that he wasn't the type of person your parents imagined you'd end up with. It'd taken 4 shots of Tito's and winning gin rummy against your father for them to start opening up to him (your favorite part of that night was when they'd decided to do a duet and sing I Like It by DeBarge)

Boyfriend!Sukuna who remembers your first date, how nervous he was sitting across from you that night. The poor man had spilled his glass of water all over himself because he was so nervous (he’ll deny it was nerves and claim the waiter bumped the table), accidentally stepped on your toes under the table (several times), and even caught part of his jacket sleeve on fire from reaching over the tables candle. What broke him was when he tried buying you flowers on the way home to try and make up for it, you BOTH were horrified to see hives suddenly break out on your skin and find out through a late night ER trip that your were allergic to that specific flower. Sukuna wont admit this either but he cried like a baby in your hospital room and again when you talked later and said you still wanted to go on a 2nd date with him (appalling luck aside, the date went extremely well).

Boyfriend!Sukuna who likes to bite you. He’ll be lying on your stomach while you use his back to read your book, when you first feel him start to suck on your tummy you don’t think much of it. As soon as you feel teeth you move your hands and look down to see your boyfriend with your tummy LITERALLY in his mouth, wide red eyes boring into yours as if you weren't essentially being used as a chew toy.

Boyfriend!Sukuna who'd gotten your name tattooed around his ring finger after your 7th date.

Boyfriend!Sukuna who was more excited than you when building your first pillow fort, arranging several pillows and blankets around you both to make a nest of sorts (he wasn't at all amused when you'd asked him if his omegas heat instincts were kickin in)

Boyfriend!Sukuna who feels the square velvet box burn a hole in his pocket. His fingers drum against the table anxiously as he watches you play with Yuji, wondering if you wanted the same things he did. But suddenly, you and his nephew turn in his direction. You’d taken one of Yuji’s hands and waved it his way, both of you having wide smiles on your faces as you giggle and tell the young boy to, “say hi to big grumpy!” At that moment Sukuna knew there was no way in hell he'd let another day go by without putting a ring on your finger.

Husband!Sukuna who watches you and Yuji make a house for the gingerbread family in the kitchen. He watched with adoring eyes as the boy in your arms picks up 3 gingerbreads, all decorated differently. With a wide, toothy grin Yuji proudly shows them to the tall man; declaring that, "dad! dad! guess what? it looks just like us! Do you like it?" The pink frosting smudging both of your cheeks, hair being held back by silly cartoon headbands, the fondness Sukuna felt for the both of you. He made his way to the kitchen island, wrapping an arm around your waist and the other to ruffle his boys hair before pressing a kiss to the crown. Nodding and gazing at you both with adoration, he coos out a sweet "Yeah little guy, I fuckin love it."

[silverspek]

After Game ‘Meditation’ 𝜗𝜚

Pretty boys who lay their head in your lap pathetically with no shame, pretty boys who apologize as they’re fucking into you, pretty boys that need you to praise them >>>

warnings … nsfw, f!reader, praise kink, oral (r), pull-out method, dom!reader + switch!rin, penetrative unprotected vaginal sex, oralking!rin, established relationship, nicknames, he’s mean but nice <3

Sex with Rin is truly best after he loses a game. You would never tell him this of course, fully aware of his deep rooted pride that is the source of his ego. He’s the best and he doesn’t need you to tell him that … until he does, till it’s just you and him behind a closed door.

Emotions simmer beneath his fluttery teal eyes; anger, frustration, and disappointment readable as his brows furrow and knit together. It makes your skin crawl knowing you can see it reflected so clearly despite him trying to cover his face with his hair, rare is it to see him so vulnerable. “Rin baby, talk to me about it,” you attempt to coax his woe from him.

Your fingers tread in his silky tapered hair as he lays his head expectantly in your lap, seeking comfort. Although he’s much bigger than you are, you don’t mind succumbing to his needs.

Rin Itoshi needingly swaddles his face between your lush thighs whilst he works on his ‘after game meditation’, “hmm…” he merely groans in petulance. Not just yet ready to process his feelings of utter failure. Due to his pride, he stiffens from unnecessary blame that your sweet hands inevitably massage him free of.

Fine. You roll your eyes teasingly. His grip on your thighs and ass tighten as he sighs, his fingertips digging into your meaty flesh while he exhales. Despite this soft and weak side of him, you’re reminded of his restrained strength in these moments. “I watched your game y’know”, you watch all of them, “I couldn’t take my eyes off you Rinnie,” no one else commands attention quite like he does on the field. His ridiculously over complicated method of playing soccer.

“That game was lukewarm, no, room temperature at best actually.” It comes out as mumbles though, his lips and cheek pressed into your warm and supple skin.

You swipe Rin’s dark bangs away from his eyes, tucking his hair lightly behind his ear. This reveals his dramatized lashes and softening features at your sweet words. Rin Itoshi certifiably has a kink for praise, “you’re a star, my star,” you say watching his ears perk up and turn red in response. He’s unbelievably receptive, even the tops of his shoulders flush at your flattery.

It’s like you’ve breathed new life into him, “come here and show me how good you are, Rin.” Pathetic and oh so eager to please as he wraps his toned arms around your waist in an embrace. You’re drawn closer to him, deeper into his emotional turmoil hidden beneath a veneer of insouciance. It’s addicting, just like him.

Rin isn’t always the most vocal at first, but don’t mistake his shyness for a lack of passion though; he’s a gentle lover at heart. He desires you in ways that he can’t verbalize — therefore he’ll let his mouth do the hard work — devoted to your satisfaction.

He begins to kiss down the skin of your stomach, still stationed on his knees before you. “Don't tell me what to do,” gloomy but insolent as ever while he plants wet kisses against your skin. You giggle knowing he wouldn’t want to be anywhere but the haven between your thighs, and you gasp when he starts to spread your legs apart slowly.

There’s drool practically dripping down his chin at the thought of getting to devour you and being rewarded for it with your little whines and heavenly moans. The laser focus he has vanishes into insatiable defiant lust when he removes your shorts and finds how wet you are, a string of slick connects you to your underwear. “Fuck,” he mutters under his breath, no sly or slick comeback when he’s in the mood.

You should be ashamed as to how turned on by him you are, he’s downtrodden and beaten by his loss, but you swear you’re conditioned by how well he treats your cunny when he’s like this.

Your back instinctively arches your pelvis further into his firm grip as he licks languid stripes on your slit, you watch him tentatively from between the valley of your breasts on the edge of your seat. “Feels good handsome, keep going,” he loves your small quips of encouragement, it fills him with the need to please you more.

You can feel his hot breath on your pussy as he eats you out, swiping his wet muscle against your lower lips and licking the spit off his chin. It's depraved, but he looks ethereal covered in a sheer layer of your slick. “You’re so good at this Rin,” you half moan half praise as he starts to suck on your clit, “fuck— keep doing that n’ I’ll cum.”

You’re sure you are throbbing against him, you just know it. It’s embarrassing how quickly he can reduce you down to your desires, but he loves it needs it like this, needs you desperate for him. “Faster, closer,” you greedily demand as your grip in his teal hair tightens. You make eye contact and the hunger is like an electric charge.

He doesn’t let anyone talk to him like this, no one orders Rin Itoshi to do anything. You, however, are all his sweetness. For you he is compliant and tamed.

Rin loves how your thighs helplessly quiver and try to push him away when he grazes your clit with his teeth; he knows what your pretty pussy really wants, it never lies. He’ll answer the ache of your throbbing core with his tongue, letting it slide in and out of your walls as his nose hits your clit over and over. It’s unclear how he can breathe down there but you could care less because the knot in your abdomen has become unbearable as he tongue fucks you.

He winces and pants into your cunny when your nails dig into his sensitive scalp, the sting ignites him with the burn to watch you unravel. Strings of curses and chants of his name leave you in a hurry, your body feeling lighter as you let yourself go for him. The crescendo of his tongue against your clit continues while you whine, “oh..! ah— my god. It’s s’good.” Your head falls back as you grind out the rest of your orgasm on his face to your heart's content.

He is so painfully hard, and even harder feeling you cum against his tongue without the use of his hands. It makes his pride swell when you run your fingers in his hair as he provides tentative kitten licks to your overstimulated bud.

“You’re so good for me honey,” you say after you find your voice. Your arms reach for him down on his knees, needy to feel his skin on yours following your intense climax. You tug his lumbering body on top of yours, caressing the smooth skin of his large biceps.

It may seem like he’s watching you with an expressionless stare but really you light his every nerve ending on fire, setting off hundreds of reactions and inappropriate thoughts with your every move. He shudders feeling your fingertips graze his clavicle. “You like when I touch you like this, right Rin?” He can barely hold himself steady above you when your legs wrap around his torso and your small hands glide down his toned chest. You swear you heard his breath hitch as you outline his abs with your fingers and grind against his hardening cock.

“Mhhm,” he groans as you kiss his neck, pulling him further into you with your thighs. Despite his aloof and unkind demeanor, Rin soaks up any positive attention you give him. A reaction between the needy and the giving.

“There’s that pleased sigh, relax lovie,” you breathe into his ear as your hands explore his bare back. Rin’s balls pulse uncomfortably with every saccharin laced word and every stupid rhyming nickname that leaves your puffy lips. Fuck, he needs you bad, all his sorrow and frustration melted away by your mere praise and attention.

But you’re quicker to act than he is, freeing his long needy dick from his boxers, lining it up with your entrance as you lay back. Somehow you always know exactly what he needs before he even says it, it gets him so hot and bothered to be desired like this. “Give it to me, I want you Rin,” you say pressing his fleshy pink tip to your cunts entrance.

Logic can’t help him, not when your hot, tight, wet body was sprawled out begging to get fucked by him. All thoughts of his loss, teammates, and game leave his mind as soon as your gummy walls gripped his cock.

“You’re squeezing baby, relax,” he reminds you in an even tone while thumbing your clit. Things tend to get tight if he doesn’t finger you, just a byproduct of his impressive length. His instincts tell him to slam into you again and again till he loses sense of himself but you seem to have other plans.

“How can I when your cock feels this good, like it was made for me.” Rin whines at your sultry tone, twitching inside you in an effort to not let your dirty words get the better of him. “Quit,” he warns with a particularly hard thrust that has your teeth chattering.

“I can take it,” you tell him confidently, locking eyes with him in a challenge before you stare at his lips. You’re so avaricious over him it drives him crazy, how could he deny you?

That’s why he’ll drag his hips in and out of your cunt, indenting your body into the mattress below with each thwap of his hips against your bare ass. He’s to shy to admit how fucking good it feels so he’ll bury his face in your chest or neck to suppress his noises.

It feels like all you can do is hang on to him as he holds your waist firmly and his strong hips piston in n’ out of you; drilling your rigid form into the opposingly soft sheets. “So full Rin,” you’re blissed out from the rate at which he slams himself inside you, causing tears to prick at the corners of your eyes as your voice begins to slur from pleasure.

He doesn’t mean to, he swears he would never be so rough with your body; but he can’t help it. You’re beautiful, you’re praising him, andddd he’s utterly weak for how creamy your walls feel as he fucks you like a dog.

In his trance like state he apologizes before pushing your knees to your head, spreading you impossibly wider for him so he can feel you that much closer. The intimacy of his need makes you feel warm from the tips of your toes up; you feel yourself threatening to cum.

“Not yet, I’m not done with you.” He says, groaning as he sheaths his length in your walls, base to tip. Every whimper and thrust from him makes you cry out, but he can’t stop. Not when he’s so tantalizingly close to cumming his brains out, so he’ll apologize again and again as he bullies all mean 8 inches where no one else can claim you.

You can’t hold it, releasing all over him in slurs of ‘I love you Rin’ and ‘ah! Don’t stop.’ Seeing you at your highest satisfaction makes his toes curl and with a mere sloppy 3 thrusts, he’s pulling out to cum all over your pussy, admiring how it pools down to your slit. “I’m sorry baby, fuck— ew. Let me clean you up.”

When he returns to you with a wet rag it’s silent as he climbs back into bed. Wiping the mark of his filthy desires from the insides of your legs while you pet his head. “You made me feel .. unbelievable,” you say trying to meet his gaze, not yet done praising him for a job well done.

“I don’t need your pity, shut up and let me clean you.” There’s no bite in his voice, no sarcasm nor malice. Once he’s done he returns to his previous position, laying his head in your lap as you sit in comfortable silence. His thumb rubs appreciative circles in your skin as a way of verbalizing his love for you, it’s only thanks to you that he was able to ground himself.

[woozinhos]

Hii, could I request that the reader sucks off mingyu, hoshi, jeonghan or wonwoo while they are live. Like the reader is hiding under the table or smt. (Ofc you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to) and I love your writeing, like how do you come up with the stories?

I decided to write for Mingyu for this I thought he would be perfect for this 🤭

Mingyu was sitting at a table, live-streaming to his fans as usual. He was chatting with them, answering questions and sharing funny stories. But beneath the table, hidden from view, you were on your knees between his legs. You smirked to yourself as you took him into your mouth, loving the thrill of being so close to him while he was live-streaming.

Mingyu shifted slightly in his seat, trying to hide the sudden intake of breath as he felt your mouth around him. He continued to talk to his fans, his voice a little strained as he tried to keep up his usual charm and charisma. But beneath the table, your mouth was working him up in ways that he never could have imagined. You were skilled and relentless, teasing him with your tongue and taking him deeper with every bob of your head.

Mingyu was struggling to keep his composure as you continued to pleasure him under the table. He stumbled over his words a few times, his mind too distracted by the sensation of your mouth on him. He tried to focus on the questions his fans were asking, but it was getting harder and harder to concentrate.

He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself, and shifted in his seat again, desperate for more. The fans start to comment asking him if he’s okay. "I'm fine, I'm fine," Mingyu said quickly, forcing a smile onto his face as he addressed his fans.

He hoped they couldn't hear the slight tremor in his voice, or see the way his fingers were digging into the edge of the table. He was fighting to keep his expression neutral, to not give away what was happening beneath the table. The fans seemed oblivious to his struggle, too engrossed in the conversation and enjoying the live-stream. Mingyu's heart was pounding in his chest as he tried to focus on answering their questions, all the while trying to keep his reactions in check.

He could feel himself getting closer and closer to the edge, his body tense with anticipation. He desperately wanted to reach down and tangle his fingers in your hair, to pull you closer and guide your movements. Mingyu tried to speak again, but his words came out in a jumbled mess as he fought to hold back a moan. He cleared his throat and tried again, this time managing to get a few words out.

"S-sorry, I'm a little distracted today," he said, his voice cracking slightly. "I've got a lot on my mind."

The fans started to speculate about what could be distracting him, some joking that he was working on a new project or that he was too tired.

But the truth was much more sinful.

Mingyu could feel himself getting close to the edge, his body tensing up as he struggled to hold back. He knew he had to end the live-stream soon, but he couldn't bring himself to say goodbye just yet. The longer the live-stream went on, the harder it became for Mingyu to keep up his facade.

He was practically squirming in his seat now, his body wracked with pleasure as you continued to work him with your mouth. He could feel himself getting close, and he knew he wouldn't be able to hold out much longer. He glanced down at you under the table, his eyes dark with desire and desperation. You looked up at him, a wicked glint in your eye as you saw the desperate look on his face.

You could tell he was close, and you knew just how to push him over the edge. You increased your pace, taking him deeper and using your tongue to tease him mercilessly. Mingyu's breath hitched in his throat, and he bit down hard on his lip to keep from crying out.

He was trembling now, his body taut with tension as he fought to maintain his composure. His fingers dug into the edge of the table even harder, and he knew he was only moments away from losing control. Mingyu's eyes widened in shock as he felt himself reach his peak, a small squeak escaping his lips before he could stop it.

He clamped his mouth shut, his face burning with embarrassment as he realized what had just happened. He had cum right in front of his fans, without warning or preparation. The chat exploded with questions and exclamations, the fans clearly having heard the sound. Mingyu's face was bright red as he tried to come up with a believable explanation for the squeak.

"I-I, uh... I just stubbed my toe," he lied, his voice shaking slightly. "Yeah, that's all. Just a stubbed toe."

The fans didn't seem entirely convinced, but they accepted his explanation and moved on to other topics. Mingyu let out a sigh of relief, his body still trembling from the force of his orgasm. He looked down at you under the table, a mixture of shock and awe on his face. He couldn't believe that you had just done that to him, and in front of his fans no less.

Mingyu hurriedly said goodbye to his fans, apologizing for having to cut the live-stream short due to his injured toe. As soon as he ended the stream, he leaned back in his chair and let out a deep sigh of relief. He looked down at you again, a mix of frustration and admiration in his eyes.

"You're going to be the death of me," he muttered, running a hand through his hair.

You smirked up at him, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.

"Did you enjoy that, baby?" you asked, your voice low and sultry.

[gingersxng]

Call A Friend

Pairing: f!reader x Mingi

Genre: smut 18+

Summary: when you’ve tried everything to make yourself satisfied and nothing helps, the only thing left to try is to call a friend, who is more than happy to help you.

Notes: freaky friendship??, reader is very horny, so is Mingi, mentioning sex toys, phone sex, dirty talk, horndog! Mingi, lots of teasing, fingering, stripping, nipple/breast play, praising, jerking off, edging, mingi cums on himself, pet names (baby & beautiful), Mingi wanna fuck you!!

Words: 1.4k

You were alone in your apartment, you had a rough day at work and your whole body was aching. It was aching to be touched. This feeling had been going on for at least three days, a constant ache between your thighs that begged for release.

Playing with yourself wasn’t enough to make you completely satisfied, using the vibrator or the big dildo was much but nothing could fix your horniness.

Laying on your bed, you looked up at the ceiling and thought about what to do. Then suddenly, you remembered something in the back of your head. Maybe you should call Mingi? He was a horny freak too, ofc he was a much bigger freak than you but he if someone would understand your needs.

With your bottom lip stuck between your teeth, you reached for your phone, your fingers trembled with anticipation. You scrolled through your contacts. Your eyes landed on the picture with a pink haired guy biting his sunglasses.

Without hesitation, you clicked on his number. The phone rang, and with each signal, you got hornier.

“Fuck, can’t he answer” you muttered.

"Hello?" His voice echoed through the phone, deep and rich.

"Mingi, it's Y/n" you purred, you sure sounded needy. "I hope I'm not disturbing you."

"Y/n" he rumbled. "It's been a while. What a pleasant surprise. I was just about to start my evening workout, but I can make an exception for you."

His words sent a rush of heat to your core. You bit your lip, your mind already spinning with naughty thoughts. "Oh, I'd love to join you for your workout, Mingi. I could use a good... stretch." You said seductively.

Mingi let out a low chuckle, the sound resonating in your ear. "I can tell you're up to something. What's on your mind, beautiful?"

"I was feeling a little... restless tonight" you confessed. "And I thought of you. I wanted to hear your voice again, and maybe... do something a little naughty together."

"Oh, Y/n" he said, his voice dropping an octave. "You know how to tempt me don’t you? I'm all ears. Tell me what you want."

You took a deep breath, your fingers playing with the hem of your shirt. "I want you to talk to me, Mingi. I want to hear your voice as I touch myself."

There was a moment of silence, and you could almost feel the intensity of his gaze through the phone. "Fuck. I forgot you’re just a horny freak like me." He chuckled. You closed your eyes, picturing his handsome face, imagining his strong hands on your body.

"Now, Y/n" he began, his voice taking on a seductive tone. "I want you to take off your clothes. Slowly. Let your fingers glide over your skin, feel every inch of your beautiful body."

Obeying his command, you stood up and began to undress. Your fingers fumbled with the buttons on your top. You let the fabric slide off the shoulders, exposing your lace bra. Your breasts heaved with each breath, the nipples already filled with arousal.

"That's it, Y/n" Mingi whispered. "Let me see you. Show me how beautiful you are."

You unhooked your bra, letting it fall to the floor, revealing your big tits. Your hands cupped them, squeezing gently, as if offering them to him. "Like what you see, Mingi?" You teased.

"God, yes" he groaned. "Your tits are perfect. Pinch your nipples for me, Y/n. Make them harden."

You did as he asked, you rolled your sensitive buds between your fingers, moaning softly at the sensation. "They're so sensitive, Mingi. I can't wait to feel your mouth on them."

"I'll suck them so hard, you'll scream my name" he purred. "Now, slide your hands down your body, tease yourself for me."

Your fingers trailed down your stomach, the skin tingled at his words. Your slipped your fingers beneath the waistband of your skirt, feeling the heat radiating from your aching core. With a slow, deliberate motion, you pushed your skirt down, revealing your lacy panties.

Mingi’s mind almost went 404, thinking about you all naked on the bed for him. "Now, touch yourself. Let me hear how wet you are."

Your fingers dipped beneath the silk fabric, finding your slick folds. You let out a gasp as you touched yourself. "I'm so wet, Mingi. I can't remember the last time I felt this aroused."

"Good girl" he encouraged. "Now, slide a finger inside. Feel how tight you are."

You did as he instructed, your breath hitched as you penetrated yourself. "Oh, Mingi, I'm so tight. I need more. Please, tell me what to do."

"Tease your clit, Y/n" he commanded. "Circle it with your fingers, but don't touch it directly. Not yet."

Your fingers danced around the swollen bud, your hips thrusted eagerly as you wanted relief. "I need more, Mingi. Please, I'm so close."

"Not yet baby" he said, his voice firm yet gentle. "I want you to edge. Tease yourself until you're right on the brink, and then stop. I want to hear you beg for release."

You whimpered, your body trembled with need. Mingi's voice was like a drug, pushing you further into the depths of pleasure. You complied, your fingers worked your clit with expert precision, bringing yourself to the very edge of orgasm before pulling away.

"Please, Mingi" you begged. "I need to cum. Please, let me finish."

"Not yet" he said. "I want to hear you beg some more. Tell me how much you want it."

Your body was on fire, your juices were flowing freely. "I want it so bad, Mingi. I'm so close. Please, please let me cum."

"That's it, Y/n" he urged. "Beg for it. Tell me how good it will feel when you finally let go."

"Fuck Mingi!" you panted. "Fuck me!!."

"Now, Y/n" he growled. "Let go. Cum for me, beautiful."

His words were like a trigger, you came on the spot. Your body shook as wave after wave of ecstasy washed over you. You cried out his name with your fingers still working your clit.

"Fuck Y/n" Mingi breathed, his voice filled with satisfaction. "That was incredible. I so wish I could fuck you right now."

Your eyes widened at his sudden words. “Uhmm…” you suddenly went quiet. You heard a low groan on the other side of the phone.

"I'm hard as a rock right now" he purred. "Listening to you pleasuring yourself made me so horny, could you help me?."

A wicked smile spread across your face. "Oh, I'd love to help you, Mingi. What do you have in mind?"

"I want you to talk to me, Y/n" he said, his voice low and husky. "Tell me how you'd suck my cock. Describe it to me in detail, and make me cum with your words."

You almost choked, you knew Mingi were a horndog but you two never actually got to bed together. You tried to picture what his dick would look like, it had to be big, thick, veiny… you imagined the feel of it in your mouth. "I'd start by licking the tip, Mingi. Tasting your precum, letting it tease my tongue. Then, I'd take you deep, as deep as I could, until my lips touched the base."

"Fuck, Y/n" he groaned. "That's exactly what I need to hear. Keep going, baby."

"I'd suck you hard" you continued, your voice growing bolder. "My lips are tight around your shaft, my tongue swirling, teasing the underside. I'd look up at you with lust filled eyes, watching your pleasure."

"Yes" he hissed. "I'm so fucking close. Tell me how you'd swallow it."

"I'd take every drop" you purred. "I'd suck you dry, feeling your cock twitch in my mouth as you cum. I'd savor the taste of you, wanting more."

His breathing was ragged now, and you knew you had him right where you wanted him. His low moan echoed through the phone, followed by a series of guttural grunts. "Oh, Y/n... fuck I'm... cumming!"

You listened as he climaxed, his voice could make you cum again. The thought of him stroking his hard cock, imagining your mouth on him, was enough to make you ache for more.

His hoodie was stained in white thick cum.

"That was incredible, Y/n" he breathed. "I've never had a phone call like that before. Thank you."

"The pleasure was all mine" you replied. "What about doing this more often? You shyly asked.

"I don’t know about that.. phone sex was good but I’d rather fuck you next time”

[henry7931]

Great Shift; On The Farm

Andy:

I’ve been having a hard time adjusting to my new body especially since it belonged to my big brother Henry.

But Henry is having an even harder time with things. We are polar opposites and he hates having my “scrawny gay” body. (His words not mine)

That’s why my parents thought it would be a great idea for me to spend the summer with my grandpa on the farm.

My grandpa was also shifted into my cousin Garrett’s body which makes us the same age now. Weird right?

So when I arrive I see my grandpa outside in Garrett’s body doing some work. And I’m surprised by how he looks. It’s been years since I’ve seen Garrett and his body looks a lot different.

Handsome, I might say.

I feel myself getting somewhat excited about the thought but immediately turned it down in my head. That’s still my cousin’s body with my grandpa in it.

I get dropped off by my dad (who’s in our neighbor Rogers body).

“Hey dad! You never looked better,” he says to my grandpa.

“Yeah and you look older,” he says with a big smirk and a wink.

“Geez, thanks.”

“Andy! How are you bud?” says my grandpa pulling me in for a hug and I can feel his shirtless sweaty body rubbing up on me.

“Hey grandpa!” I say trying not to get a boner.

“Oh no! I’m not grandpa anymore, I’m just Harry now.”

“Oh okay, sorry.”

“Hey don’t apologize, you and I are going to have a lot of fun this summer.”

Grandpa or ‘Harry’ messes up my hair a bit.

“Great, I can’t wait!”

My dad says goodbye to us as I grab my bags. Grandpa or Harry— walks in with me and we catch up for a few.

“How are things for you Andy? Are you adjusting well to your brother’s body?”

“ I guess so, at least better than Henry with mine. I don’t know it’s all still odd to me.”

“Well I know it takes time but just embrace it. This is probably permanent and as much as I hate it for your cousin— I’ve accepted his body as my own. I actually feel comfortable in it. Plus, your cousin was a prick prior to everything— god love him. I’d say this humbled him. Probably will humble Henry too. I remember when those boys used to pick on you.”

“Yeah…” I said looking down at my brothers hands. Flashbacks from years ago started to fill my head back when Henry and Garrett used to trick me into doing stupid stuff.

“But that doesn’t matter now, Andy. This is the new us. So let’s enjoy ourselves! Wanna beer? You’re old enough now haha.”

“Uhhh sure!”

We both sat at the table and drank beer together.

I listen to Harry talk but I can’t take my eyes off of his shirtless chest.As he’s talking, he pulls off his shoes and I can instantly smell his stinky feet.

He pulls his sock off and now I have a full view of his foot. He notices me looking and says, “sorry that smell so bad.”

“No you’re good, I don’t mind.”

“Oh no! What if I—”

He takes Garrett’s foot puts it up close to my face.

I jump back to make it seem like I was grossed out.

“Hahaha sorry! Just wanted to make you jump! You have no idea how much I appreciate these smelly toes…” he says rubbing his foot. “I used to have a hard time walking and now I can do anything!”

Harry continues to tell me about how things are so different from when he was originally 21. And I learned so much about him that I didn’t know.

Hours past and it’s around 8. We cook dinner together and both of us were pretty lit by then.

We eat and by this point both of us are ready for bed.

Harry, who doesn’t seem to have a care in the world and is way more hammered than me, strips off all of his clothes down to his briefs.

He crawls into bed and tells me to give him a hug. I do and I notice something strange… he’s fondling his crotch.

Oh my!! He has a boner! Even the head of his dick is coming out of his briefs.

Of course I don’t point it out, I just try to say good night to him.

But before he lets me go he gives me a kiss on the lips. It took me so off guard and yet I felt that same excited energy like earlier. As I pull back, he says to me, “you just wait, this is going to be the best summer yet.”

“Okay Harry, I’ll see you in the morning.”

I hit the light and look at him in bed. My dick gets hard just at the sight of his feet.

I walk up to him and snoring. I carefully bend down and sniff them.

Fuckkkkk…

I go to the guest bedroom, licking my lips from Harry’s sloppy kiss and kick off all of the clothes I had on.

I look at Henry’s reflection in the mirror. I’ve had some shame about being put into this body. And yet it wasn’t anything I could control.

I think about what Harry said to me. “Embrace my new body.”

Well I guess if this is mine permanently then I need to accept it.

I sit on the ground and look at the feet that used to belong to my big brother… but they’re mine now. I control them. And you know what? Like I them!

I grab on to MY 10 inch dick and started pumping it. Letting out grunts… shit it feels so good! I haven’t jerked off since the shift…

I rub my hands over my chest and back down to my thighs. I feel my butt cheeks and grab on to one.

I watch myself in the bedroom mirror making lustful faces to myself. Although I look like some country boy, I’m still the same skinny gay guy deep down. Or maybe I’m now something in the middle?

I feel my balls tighten and I knew I was close. Cum squirts out of me and it’s so much of it.

I feel so much relief, it’s been so long!

I clean myself up and try my cum for the first time.

I lay back in bed and begin to slowly fall asleep.

The Next Morning…

“Hey bud, you ready to start our day?” says Harry.

My first thing I see in morning is Harry’s bulge. Half way awake I’m almost tempted to touch it.

“Good morning…”

I pull the blanket off of me and Harry has a big grin across his face.

“Someone must have been having a good dream,” he says directing to my crotch.

I look down at my naked frame and my raging morning wood.

“Oh sorry!” I say tossing the blanket back over.

“Oh don’t be! Also, don’t worry about hiding your parts from me. Especially that handsome thing you got between your legs.”

I pull the blanket back and Harry sits by my bed.

“Do you mind if I?” he says gesturing to it again.

“Sure!”

Harry grabs my dick and I let out a little grunt.

He starts running his fingers all over and I’m in such a state of shock I almost thought it was all a dream.

“Boy this is such a good lookin cock! Sorry for playing with your junk. I’m just so horny in this body and it’s been a bit since I’ve seen someone else’s bits.”

“I don’t mind at all Harry.”

Harry continues to fondle my wood and it’s almost too much to handle. I need to just tell him how I feel, I mean he can’t make it more obvious on his feelings.

“Harry!”

“Yeah?”

“I have to tell you something?”

“What is it?”

“I’m so attracted to you, I don’t know if it’s right or wrong but I want you so bad right now.”

“Well, I have to say that I have the same feelings. And honestly don’t know what to do with them either.”

“Well we could just act on them…”

Harry puts my cock down and gets close to my face.

“If we do this we can’t go back.”

“I know.”

“Also we can’t tell anyone.”

“I won’t tell a single person.”

“Good.”

Harry kisses me with so much passion, he kisses down my neck, my chest, all the way until he’s face to face with my cock.

Harry sucks me off and I watch him work my dick. He feels up and down my Harry balls.

“Ohhhh god Harry!!!”

His warm mouth feels so good. I can only hold out for so long….

“Fuccccc!!!!! Harry! I’m gonna cum!”

I expected him to pull back but he keeps his mouth on my dick.

I explode into Harry’s mouth. He sucks all of it out of me until I’ve released every last drop.

He looks up at me with a big grin and cum dripping from his lips, “you taste good bud!”

“Thanks lol, so… do you want me to…”

Before I can say anything Harry yanks off his underwear and lays back in bed.

“Show me what you got,” he says with a smirk.

[delilahsturniolo]

𝒂 𝒔𝒄𝒉𝒐𝒍𝒂𝒓’𝒔 𝒔𝒆𝒄𝒓𝒆𝒕 — 𝒄.𝒔 ᥫ᭡⋆˚࿔

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐧𝐞 . . . 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 💌

in which . . . y/n and chris attend boston university, the both of you are always competing and bickering with each other academically. one day, chris suddenly asks you to help him make his ex jealous. the only problem is, you can’t stand each other. what happens when chris can no longer keep his true feelings about you a secret?

warnings . . . academic rivals, enemies to lovers, fake dating, cursing.

written by @delilahsturniolo. do not copy, steal, or modify my works. if you are taking any inspiration from this, please ask me first before posting and credit me in your description. happy reading! :)

the library was quiet, sounds of faint footsteps and soft whispering filled the room. and then there was you, frantically flipping through the pages of your notebook in distress as you examined your notes, your eyes quickly scanning over them. you couldn’t believe it, it couldn’t be true. you got a 65 on your latest exam, bringing your overall grade down tremendously. it was absolutely atrocious. you were trying to figure out where you went wrong, your professor wouldn’t even let you retake the exam either. this was your lowest mark for the semester, and you felt a sense of disappointment in yourself. maybe you didn’t study enough, maybe you weren’t thinking hard enough, maybe—

your thoughts of paranoia were immediately cut off by your phone alarm going off to signal that it was time for your next class, echoing throughout the library. “shit.” you cursed under your breath, quickly shutting it off. you apologetically smiled at the librarian as she gave you a look of warning.

what a bitch. you thought to yourself.

you scrambled your books together, shoving them into your bag messily before storming out of the library. you were so done, you were experiencing your academic downfall, something you never thought you’d say in your life. you were a perfectionist after all, you always strived to go above and beyond on every assignment. you had one of the highest gpa’s out of all the freshman in the university, but that was quickly changing, for the worst. you walked into your next lecture a few minutes late, your mind jumbled and foggy as you sat down next to your best friend, stacy. she looked at you in a concerned and puzzled manner as you sat down, trying to be as quiet as possible.

“you’re late? that’s a first.” stacy joked, nudging your elbow as you opened one of your textbooks to get caught up with what you had missed so far. you simply just rolled your eyes. “i don’t wanna talk about it, stace.” you sighed heavily. she furrowed her eyebrows.

“what’s wrong? did something happen?” stacy asked you, whispering so the professor couldn’t hear. you bit your lip, resting your elbows against your desk. “i’m completely flunking every assignment, my grades are horrible.” you confessed, stacy nodded. “if it makes you feel better, everyone kinda did bad on the exam. well, besides chris.” stacy told you, which didn’t make you feel any better at all.

christopher sturniolo, the person you envied the most. as much as you hated to admit it, he was the smartest person you knew. he got solid 100’s on every test, he was absolutely determined to get a higher mark than you. usually, you’d both get the same grade, or you’d tease him if you got a higher grade than him, vice versa.

chris was one of your family friends. both of your mom’s were best friends, so that meant you had to see him often. you had a close relationship with nick and matt, but you and chris never really clicked. you had known the triplets since 2nd grade, which was when the academic rivalry between you and chris sparked, all because of a stupid spelling bee in elementary school.

chris sat in the very front of the room, taking notes and listening to the professor speak. his shoulders were up in confidence, and so was his ego. he thought he was better than everyone, especially you. you scoffed, you didn’t have to energy to interact with him today, especially after what you got on the exam. if chris knew you had failed, he’d make it his life goal to tease you about it. and you weren’t in the mood.

after around 45 minutes of zoning out, the lecture finally ended. thank goodness, you had a free period for your next class. you and stacy got up, grabbing your bags so you could walk together to your next period. you glanced over at chris, as he talked with his friends. you rolled your eyes, deciding to not worry about him right now. you were about to head out, until the professor called your name.

“y/n, could i have a word with you before you leave?” the professor asked. you looked at stacy, telling her to go on without you as you walked over to your professor’s desk, not batting chris an eye as he walked out of the room. “what’s up?” you smiled, but on the inside your stomach churned out anxiety as you waited for what he had to say.

“i’m concerned about you, y/n. you’ve failed the last exam, your grades took a major dip, which is unlike you. is there something going on?” the professor questioned you, looking up at you as he sat at his desk. you cleared you throat awkwardly, beginning to speak.

“i—uh. i appreciate your concern, but i’m completely fine. i’m just…a bit tired. i promise i’ll get my grade up.” you were lying through your teeth as you explained to him. you felt hopeless, unmotivated and dumb. this had never happened to you before. “alright, good. take care of yourself, y/n. you’re dismissed.” he spoke firmly. you thanked him, walking out of the classroom, feeling a pit in your heart. you wanted to cry so badly, you wanted the day to just be over already. you felt like such a failure.

as you walked through the packed hallways of boston university, you felt someone grab your arm. you gasped as they covered your mouth, dragging you into the storage closet, thrashing in their grip slightly. the mysterious person practically threw you inside, shutting and locking the door behind them. you rubbed your eyes, spinning around to see who it was.

chris. of course.

“what the fuck, chris? you just kidnapped me in broad daylight!” you raised your voice at him. he scoffed, adjusting the cap on his head. “i didn’t kidnap you, doll. i simply just brought you into this closet.” chris explained, his sarcastic tone filling the room. “what do you want, chris?” you sighed heavily.

chris hesitated for a moment before speaking. “i have a favor to ask you.” chris’s voice sounded hopeful almost. you gave chris a puzzled look, he was asking you for help? out of all people, you? you could’ve sworn you were the last person he’d go to if he needed something. “are you feeling okay?” you giggled slightly, chris rolled his eyes at you. “i don’t need your sarcasm right now, i need you to listen to me.” chris had a slightly pleading tone to his voice, you immediately went quiet, curious as to what he had to say.

“victoria broke up with me.” chris confessed, your eyes widened. victoria and chris had been dating since junior year, you were shocked. they were the couple of your high school. it made sense though, chris was in college now, he barely had time for her anymore. “oh.” you simply said, chris raised an eyebrow at you. “oh?” he repeated, expecting you to have more to say, expecting you to bully him about it or something.

“what does that have to do with me?” you tilted your head as you gave chris a questioned look. he sighed before speaking again. “i want you to help me make her jealous. like, i don’t know. pretend we’re dating? she’s been goin’ around and fucking with other guys to try and make me jealous, so i want to give her a taste of her own medicine, y’know?” chris suggested. you scoffed in disbelief at the idea.

“what!? no way in hell am i doing that, chris. you plan on getting back at victoria by asking me to pretend we’re dating? that’s the stupidest idea ever. you’re a straight A student, you should have a better idea.” you scolded him. you immediately turned down his idea, there was no way you were going agree.

“oh come on! is it that hard for you to pretend you like me?” chris tried convincing you once more. “i said no, chris.” your voice grew quieter. chris cursed under his breath, the small and cramped closet was filled with silence. that was, until chris came up with another idea.

“what if i gave you something in return? what if we made a deal?” chris offered, you looked up from the floor and met his eyes agaim, intrigued on what he was going to say. “like what?” you asked, a hint of annoyance still present in your tone.

“you’re failing your exams, your grades are shit. i could help you study and start passing again, but only if you help me. i mean, think about it. you’re kind of a dumbass, you need the help of an intelligent man like me.” chris winked as he praised himself, you could tell he tried not to insult you in his proposal, but miserably failed.

he was right, you really did need help getting your grades up. after all, you were getting the opportunity to get help from chris, which was huge, considering how perfect his grades were. you were honestly a little surprised he was even offering to help you out in the first place, but, you had to return the favor by helping him too. “deal.” you abruptly said after thinking for a moment, taking chris aback. “wait, what?” he asked, not expecting you to agree.

“did i stutter, sturniolo? i said we have a deal.” you crossed your arms, watching the smile slowly spread on chris’s lips. he extended his hand out for you to take. “then we have a deal.” he confirmed. you took his hand, shaking it firmly before letting go.

you were given the deal of a lifetime after all, but at what cost?

© delilahsturniolo do not copy, re use, or modify any of my works.

[genesisami]

First post on tumblr, I have NO IDEA how this works

Random before bed idea

CW: somewhat NSFW, nothing heavy but mentions of sex! All characters aged up to be 18+! Reader gender doesn’t matter

Not proofread :p

Reader who has a situationship with Rin, the two hook up occasionally no strings attached type relationship.

The both of you were highschool… friends. Despite your not so secret admiration and crush on his brother Sae, the two of you got along quite well. You two would often hang out on your own accords, playing games or having him best you at soccer. You would talk to Sae almost as if Rin wasn’t there, asking him to join the two of you. He would always decline though, much to Rin’s pleasure.

Rin couldn’t help but feel slightly uncomfortable with the way you gushed over his brother. He would constantly try to get your attention more by showing off his soccer skills or working out a little bit more to match his brother’s physique.

After a while, your relationship with Rin began to escalate. The two of you becoming more and more intimate with eachother.

The first time you two had intercourse it felt great, it was just you, Rin and the creaking of the bed. Though, the problems began to start when you neared your first climax with him. While orgasming you yelled out his brother’s name rather than the male actually having sex with you. “Sae…!!”

Rin stared down at your flushed face, his face showing confusion but angry hidden beneath. You apologised of course and said that your mind was just a mess due to the situation.

But it didn’t stop there, the more you two became intimate the further you drifted apart as friends.

In your eyes he was just a substitute for the real sae.

Situationship!Rin who will always be there when you need him to fill your hole

Situationship!Rin who feels a little disheartened when you ask him to wear one of Sae’s jerseys

Situationship!Rin who forces himself to use the same cologne as his brother does before meeting up with you, otherwise you won’t touch and caress his body at all

Situationship!Rin who feels pangs of jealousy when you call out his brothers name while climaxing instead of his

Situationship!Rin who loves making out with you during sex, its the only way he can be assured you won’t say his brothers name.

Situationship!Rin who wishes he could fight the urge to stay hard inside of you when you call out Sae’s name. Wishing that he could just go limp on you in rebellion, but instead his desire for you is too strong, being able to pump load’s inside of you as many times as you’d like.

Situationship!Rin who one day decides to fuck you infront of a mirror, to force you to see him and see him making you feel amazing. But that day he notices how long it takes you to climax as opposed to usual.

Situationship!Rin who hopes everyday that you’ll tell him you love him for himself. Not pretending to be Sae or anyone else.

Situationship!Rin who sees you hanging out with Sae mid practice, his heart about to explode from the sight. He as right there, you don’t need Sae, you have Rin. He can be Sae for you, he can be better, just love him please.

One night Rin hears you come over to the Itoshi estate, his heart rushes thinking you’ve come to confess to him. Only to have his feelings crushed when he walks out of his room and sees you talking to Sae.

That night he could hear the sounds of a creaking bed and moans leaking through the wall separating his room from Sae’s. He feels straight envy as he can tell your moans sound more, pleasureful, energetic, loving.

That night Rin couldn’t help himself from jerking off to the sounds of you moaning, wishing it was him making you do that.

One day, just one day Rin hoped that you might see him as just more than a Sae-lookalike fuck buddy.

I hope this was alright for my first post! Lmk if there’s any characters or whatever i should write about!

[gardenwalrus]

David Ash, ‘Our Kind of Girl - By The Beatles’, Daily Express (21 Nov. 1963)

After the show, after the applause, what kind of girl do the Beatles think about in the loneliness of hotel rooms locked against the fans? [...] So I went and asked them: What is your kind of girl? [...] Paul McCartney, 21, told me: “It would be great to have the sort of girl who would darn my socks and cook apple pies and things.” Now that may sound like Platitude 1 (a) from the pop-star's handbook of ready-made quotes. But this McCartney I think says what he means. He continued: “She'd be attractive, but not the big show-biz personality type of girl, or one who's affected, or a dizzy dumb blonde. “She'd be intelligent - but not fantastically brainy, because I'm not - and interested in all kinds of music. Including mine.  “And she'd have to have the right sense of humour. Because we do have what someone called a sense of self-irony. And we laugh at all sorts of off-beat things.”

And physically…?  “I like girls to have long hair (it rhymes with 'her'), interesting eyes, and rather high cheekbones. But not turned-up noses. I have one myself, and it's put me right off them.  “I don't like Elizabeth Taylor-type looks. And I don't like exaggerated hour-glass figures. The figure doesn't matter all that much.  “I like girls in with-it clothes. But some girls look fantastic in just a dirty old sack. Indian girls look great in saris.”

John Lennon was looking around for a scotch. And his face, in serious moments like this, has the fear-neither-God-nor-man quality of a Renaissance painter's aristocrat. At 23, he seems the group's elder statesman. For he is married, with one baby. He talked. Huskily, cryptically. “My kind of girl is, of course, Cynthia. My wife. “I like her looks (she's fair-haired), her cooking; everything about her. I'm an extrovert, and she's the opposite.  “We are both indoor types - that's why I don't mind this life, being locked away behind doors. We live at our mum's or our auntie's or hotels. But wherever I'm with her is home. “People have said that every time she comes down to London to see me she is just trying to patch up our marriage. They say, 'You know what they're like in show business.'  “But that's not true of us. I don't happen to be showbusiness. I married before I was in it. And I haven't changed my mind since."  He added: “Of course, I notice other girls.”

George Harrison - at 20 he's the youngest and (some say) the handsomest - thought he preferred blondes. Smallish ones. Then he decided: "I don't go looking for any special sort of girl. She could be any age from 17 to 40. “I wouldn't like one who was soft (unintelligent). Or one who was terribly intellectual - I wouldn't know what she was on about half the time.  “I wouldn't mind if she were arty, hated pop and loved classical music  “Oh, yes, and I don't like girls with too much make-up.”

Ringo Starr’s sad eyes gazed thoughtful down at his drumstick-balancing fingers and the four rings on them - none of them with any marital significance.  “My girl would be just an ordinary sort of girl, but with just that something different for me,” he said.  “I wouldn’t care if she couldn’t cook very well. She could learn. But I don’t like sitting at home, so I’d want a sociable girl who’d come out every time I wanted to go out.”

Not one Beatle mentioned old-fashioned considerations like social status and family connections.  In their kinds of girl they all looked for a sense of humour, interest in their work, reasonable dress sense, and a complete lack of pretentiousness. 

[gojoidyll]

There is No Law that Emperors Must be Fair

Emperor ! Jing Yuan x Princess ! Reader

Chapter 12 | Jing Yuan

Summary | You are set to marry the Emperor, Jing Yuan. In order to break the engagement, you stage an accident and fake having amnesia. But now, your own cruel, cold, and distant fiancé, who seemed to not want anything to do with you, is now acting all lovey dovey!

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“Good evening, princess.”

Without much time to relax or breathe when Blade left to go to the Emperor, another had entered the infirmary. You recognized him easily. He was the main physician that cared for people here. Luocha.

Bringing up the blankets close to your face as a sort of barrier between you and the man, you nodded to him, “h- hello… are you… that Emperor that that guard had mentioned?”

Luocha chuckled as he came to your bedside, “no, no. I’m a doctor, a healer of sorts. Now, princess, how are you feeling? Is there any pain anywhere?”

Taking a moment to think things over, you were glad that everything was working so well so far. Though, truthfully, you haven’t once talked to Luocha before, so you weren’t sure just how perceptive he was, so the amnesia act must go on.

“A little… mainly in my legs, back, and a dull throb in my head.”

Luocha nodded, “and can you remember anything?”

You shook your head, “I- I can’t,” for more of an effective you tried to think of something sad so your eyes could start watering, and just as the tears started to form Luocha was quick to try to comfort you which was surprising to say the least.

“Don’t cry, princess, we don’t have to talk about your lost memory, alright? Let’s focus on something else.”

You nodded and just as Luocha brought out a small handkerchief, probably to wipe your tears, but before he could hand it to you, the infirmary door opened again, and Blade stepped through… with the Emperor coming in right after.

“Why is she crying,” Blade asked.

Luocha bowed, “I’m afraid it’s my fault, I asked her if she could remember anything, and I guess all the stress has finally gotten to her. My apologies.”

Without a word, Jing Yuan stepped forward and took the handkerchief from Luocha’s hand, and when he walked over to you, you couldn’t deny the fear that strikes through your veins as you scooted away, your back hitting the headboard as Jing Yuan sat on the edge of the bed and reached for you.

But all you could see was the striking arch of his blade swinging down.

However, instead of feeling that cold, electrifying metal glide straight through your body like it was made of paper, you felt a warm, calloused hand gently cup your cheek. The handkerchief cloth then lightly being applied to your dampened skin.

You trembled within his hold as he wiped away your tears. A part of you still disbelieving as he gently cleaned you up. It was such a stark contrast to your other meetings with him.

Once your tears were dried, Jing Yuan tossed the handkerchief back to Luocha, “leave us.”

Bowing almost immediately, Luocha took his leave. Though, Blade hesitated for a moment.

“That goes for you as well, Blade.”

Blade only gave a stiff nod before leaving. Your mind was a bit confused at the interaction. Blade has never done that before. He was always quick to follow Jing Yuan’s orders after all.

When you and Jing Yuan were finally alone, you half expected him to tell you to drop the act, but the words never came. Instead, his steel-like focus was solely on you, and not once were you able to stop your shaking, trembling form because of it.

His hand that was cupping your cheek moved to gently caress your face before he let his palm fall away from you.

“Princess.”

“Y- yes,” your voice wobbled slightly.

“Do you know how I am?”

“The- the Emperor?”

He smiled at your answer, “and my name?”

You shook your head, “no,” that one word was a mere quiet whisper that fell from your lips. This was way different than before. Not once had Jing Yuan ever asked anyone to leave you two alone. There was always a third-party present.

“My name is Jing Yuan.”

You nodded.

“Do you know your name?”

“I don’t… everyone only calls me by that princess title.”

Jing Yuan chuckled softly at your response and told you what your name was, and before he could say anything else, you spoke first even though that same fear still coursed through you.

“Is it true?”

“What is?”

“That- that we’re supposed to be getting married to one another?”

He hummed at that question, “we are, yes. You’re my fiancé, in fact.”

His hands moved down to your own, his fingertips lightly brushing at your knuckles as he tried to coax you to let go of the blanket, and once you did, he let his fingers slip into your palm before intertwining both his and your fingers together.

“I- I’m sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing?”

“I don’t remember anything much less being your fiancé.”

“That’s alright, I’m sure your memory will come back in time.”

You panicked then, was he really dead set on this marriage then?! You didn’t let your inner turmoil show as you looked at your intertwined hands, “how did we end up together?”

“I met you at your father’s castle. The moment I saw you, I knew you were the one.”

You resisted the urge to pull your hand away from his.

“Did I tell you much about myself? Anything you can remember? I- I mean, if you want to tell me, of course. It’s just- it might help me remember,” you rambled a bit, your nerves quickly acting up, but Jing Yuan was quick to ease you, surprising as it sounds.

“I know that your favorite color is (color), and that you like to eat (favorite food),” he started to list off a few things, each detail surprising you more than before because… he was right on all of them, but you never told him any of this, so how-? How was it that he seemed to know you so well?!

And as your conversation with the Emperor continued, Luocha had returned at some point to prescribe you some sort of pain relief drink that you will need to take every morning and even said that you will be able to go back to your room. Which was a blessing, well, until Luocha left once more, and Jing Yuan stood up as well just as the infirmary door closed.

“Shall we?”

His hand was still intertwined with your own as you nodded. He was probably going to lead you back to your room, much to your relief. However, as you stood up the pain in your legs was way more than you previously thought as you left out a small cry of pain and stumbled forward.

Luckily, Jing Yuan had already caught you before you could fall face first to the floor, and before you could apologize, he had lifted you up causing a gasp to leave your lips as he moved to hold you in a bridal carry. Scrambling in his grasp, you hadn’t noticed that you had wrapped your arms around his neck until you turned your head to look at him, and not realizing that he was looking at you too, your lips had accidentally brushed against his own.

You reacted quickly as you pulled away, “I- I’m so sorry!”

And as you looked at him, it was like it took a moment for your words to register in his head as his eyes seemed to have a far away look in his eyes, but before you could say anything else, he smiled at you.

“You don’t need to apologize for something like that.”

You nodded as he fixed his hold on you and moved to exit the infirmary, and just as you were about to ask him if he wanted you to open the door for him, he had called out to Blade, and just as he did, the door opened. Blade seemingly had been guarding the infirmary this entire time.

“Come along.”

The walk to your room was silent and whatever you did, you just couldn’t get your body to relax within his hold. Your tension not going unnoticed by the Emperor, but luckily he didn’t say anything.

“Here we are.”

Looking towards the door and then back up at Jing Yuan’s face you asked, “do we… not sleep in the same room?”

The question seemed to catch him off guard, but he was quick to recover, “before we had agreed not to share a room until after we are married, however, maybe sleeping in the same room will hasten your memories to come back sooner rather than later.”

You were quick to shake your head as you ducked your chin down to avoid eye contact, “n- no, we can- we can wait until we’re married- if- if you still want to marry me.”

Having Blade open your bedroom door, Jing Yuan had walked in with you still in his arms. His steps easily carry you to your bed, but before he set you down, he had leaned into you. His lips pressing softly to your forehead causing you to freeze up again.

“Get some rest, I’ll see you at breakfast in the morning. Your maids will come assist you in getting ready tomorrow,” he said to you as he set you down.

“Al- alright, thank you Emper-,” before you could finish he had stopped you, his thumb pressing firmly against your lips.

“My name.”

Nodding to him, he had brought his hand away, “thank you…. Yuan.”

The shortening of his name seemed to catch him off guard again, but just as before his recovery was as swift as the wind, and he delivered his goodnight to you just as easily before leaving your room.

And once you were finally alone, you flopped back into your mattress. Jing Yuan was acting off, but you knew better. As long as you stayed on your toes and kept at it, you knew that you would be able to make it home.

“Blade.”

“Yes?”

“Has Dan Heng apprehended the maid responsible?”

“He has.”

“Good.”

“Do you want him to take care of her?”

“No, I’ll kill her myself.”

taglist pt 1

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