#Misty mumbles?

[misty-the-mysterious]

BRO YESTERDAY KALIM AND SILVER WERE FIGHTING IN MY GUEST ROOM AND TODAY KALIM AND ROOK WERE FIGHTING!! KALIM WANTS TO BE THE ONLY LIGHT MAGIC USER CONFIRMED??

[catastrophicgay]

yellowjackets is being added to netflix tmrw... why do i get the feeling that the ga is gna fuck with shauna and misty's characters so bad i am terrified for my girls

[thestarishere]

I think the toons would make YTPs of the cogs saying things they absolutely don't believe

[bumpscosity]

also while i was at the zoo i saw these weird Beasts called chacoan peccaries and apparently when they were first discovered in the 1930s they just found fossils and thought they were extinct until they finally found living ones in the 70s. they look like what a kids drawing of a wild hog would look like and i like them very much. they aren't even pigs.

[revvywevvy-archive]

yknow just thought about it and here's some stuff abt chelly that i just felt like writing out. also includes some stuff pertaining to her behavior around chip/misty. under the cut :>

since i've never mentioned it directly you'd probably assume both of chelly's parents were koalas, esp since i've drawn oakley once and he is, in fact, a big ass koala. however, that's not the case for chelly's... birthing figure. willow is actually a rabbit! chelly ended up inheriting most of oakley's physical koala traits, however, she has some physical rabbit traits too! i'm gonna start adding this in anytime i draw her since i either didn't have this decided yet or just straight up forgot to draw it when i did decide for it to be a thing; but unlike most koalas which don't have tails, chelly does have one.

it's a little rabbit tail, a trait inherited from willow! also like a rabbit, she can wag said tail; whether it be out of annoyance and discontentment, or if she's extremely excited or energized over something! :) another physical rabbit trait that she inherited from willow is the widely ranged ability to express her feelings through ear positioning! though her ears aren't as flexible as a rabbit's so it's.. a little iffy, at best. she tries though, and if you look close enough you'll be able to tell. oh, she also has the fur texture that rabbits have! she also has the tooth sharpness of a rabbit; which is a pretty big contributing factor as to why you do not wanna let her get stressed to the point of biting herself.

she inherited most of her behavioral traits from willow. chelly has a tendency to start chinning against furniture as a territorial/scent marking behavior. she only ever does it at her estate. though, uh. there were a few off occasions when she'd sneak into chip's office to sit with him while he'd work, where she'd space out and start chinning against the side of his work chair before hopping on up into his lap. ......okay she also tends to space out and start chinning against chip and misty's arms/hands/shoulders/faces. if any of those are in range then yeah she's gonna do it. they think its cute. she also tends to flop a lot. so if she's like, in chip/misty's arms or in their laps or in her bed or on the floor? yeah she's gonna go limp.

she also tends to start thumping at times. it's always to get attention for one reason or another. it can be from being upset or to warn of something. chip hasn't admitted it but the sight of seeing this tiny little lady start thumping in an attempt to signal annoyance; or as a, unfortunately, rather pathetic way to intimidate other toons or smaller cogs? it's adorable to him lol. another thing she does sometimes is get on her tippy-toes and start periscoping. don't mention it, she's just gotta know what's going on!

she will start nose nudging at times, though it always ends up turning into headbutting things. and by things i mean it's always chip or misty's hands. normally they can tell what she means by it depending on her demeanor. if she seems irritated, chances are she's jealous of someone or something nearby and is trying to keep the attention on her. if she seems fine or even happy, then she probably wants headpats from one of the two suits. or both. both is nice. it's another behavior that they think is adorable. .......she would die if she had to admit it out loud, but she, unfortunately, inherited the habit of licking. she accidentally licked misty's cheek one time when going in for a kiss and nearly exploded in embarrassment. yeah. she is doing literally everything in her power to never do it again. speaking of doing weird things directed at chip or misty... if she's extra needy in the affection department she'll start honking at them or circling around them. at first they both thought it was just tism behavior- they get it, girliepop's gotta stim! but, nope, eventually they realized it was actually an attention/affection seeking behavior. it then clicked to them that those times she started honking and circling them BEFORE they were dating was subconscious courting behavior.

[scumvillains]

…food…water….college au where bonten is a fraternity

[why-so-mist-erious]

Hypocrites *bangs head against wall*.

I don't get how some people think it's OK to attack others for something then do the exact thing themselves and think it's cool.

Like...

Kpop fans are so guilty of this it hurts. Boycotts, fan wars, solo stans. If you can't justify why you are doing something in a sensible coherent way without losing your temper then either A. Reconsider what you are doing or B. Pipe down if other people chose a different response or mode of action.

Simples

[spokenforyou]

xavier x fem reader

MISTY SILHOUETTE

synopsis: xavier is in another jealous mood, so he takes it out on you in return notes: inspired by the newest cards, uses some lines! line credit to INFOLD. warnings: vulgarity, nsfw, swearing, unprotected, creampie, marks of ownership, f receiving, jealousy, possession wc: 1.9k

[minors don’t interact… by choosing to interact with this content, you are consenting to view something that is not appropriate and nsfw despite warnings!]

Xavier is having yet another one of his temper tantrums. It’s gone on a lot and it grows on your nerves over time.

He stands in front of you, trimming a plant he picked up earlier.

“This plant needs some trimming.” He mumbles under his breath and you sigh as he continues to trim, leaves falling to the floor beneath your feet.

You only assume he’s still irritated at the fact that the neighbor shows a friendly interest in you.

You sit up in your seat and tap his butt with your foot, understanding what’s going through his mind

“Xavier. Don’t take your frustration out on the plants. They’re innocent.” You pat his butt again until he turns around.

A plain look on his face, cheeks flushed, shirt undone, and darkness in his blue eyes.

“Where should I put it then?” Xavier looks down at you and lifts a brow as he steps forward.

His hand glides up your leg and under your dress, a gasp leaving your lips at the sudden touch.

Your arms latch onto his shoulders and he lifts you up.

“Don’t use the same trick twice. It loses its effectiveness.” His eyes bore into yours and he smiles.

“Then what are you suggesting?” You whisper, and he puts you down, turning you to face the window.

Xavier’s palm comes up and lands on the glass beside you while one hand traces up to cup your breast. The thick fabric making it hard to feel what he wants, but he gets an idea of it as they’ve been in his hands many times before.

“Didn’t you say I shouldn’t take it out on the plants? What exactly did I do wrong?” His soft voice rings through your ears and he presses his chin on your shoulder. His touch was soft compared to his apparent mood.

“Are you pretending to be mad, Xavier?” You reach up and lift his head off your shoulder, running your fingers along his jaw.

He moves his arm and yanks your hand away, pressing it to the glass, before it returns position to your breast.

“I thought you were the type to calm down quickly, Xav…” You chuckle, and he presses himself against you, bending you a bit.

“Depends on whom I’m with, and it also depends on how I want to calm myself down…” His lips tease your ear.

You feel his growing arousal against you and he presses kisses to your neck, whispering as he does so.

“I hate when that bastard puts his eyes on you.” Xavier murmurs against your skin, his hands gripping your hips.

His sudden language takes you off guard and you can only feel him growing more heated.

“He was just being nice…” You let out the tiniest whine as he bites down.

“Nice, my ass.” He leans back and turns your head to look you in the eyes.

He clearly didn’t like the thought of another man talking to you, even if it was for a friendly chat. Wanting your eyes on him at all times, needy, clingy.

“You’re mine.” Xavier murmurs as pulls you flush up against him, his thigh slotting between your legs.

His lips crash onto yours, hand still comforting your jaw to face his, and he rocks against you as he kisses you like his life depends on it… As if your neighbor Charlie was here watching it all unfold.

Tongues twisting and dancing against each other while his other hand come to rest on the windowsill.

He moves it briefly and travels it up your arms, intertwining your hands together.

The kiss goes on for what feels like an eternity before he pulls away, the two of you panting from such a simple thing of devouring each other.

“Xav… There’s something off about you today…” you murmur and he nods.

“I agree. It’s strange…” Xavier’s hand still holds your jaw as he turns it and kisses your neck once again gently.

“It looks like I won’t be easily satisfied tonight.” He whispers before turning you and lifting you in his arms once more.

He carries you to the loveseat with a smirk as he drops you, lips going to your cheek, neck, and ear. One hand cups the back of your head and the other glides back under your dress.

“Xav, we can’t do it here…” Your hand pulls his away, and he gives you a stern look.

“Don’t move.” He suddenly stands and pulls your legs apart. “You said you’d leave me alone if I pushed my luck, right? Well, I’m pushing my luck now… Are you going to ignore me?”

Xavier leans down a bit and looks you dead in the eyes, face red, and chest heaving.

“How could I?” You chuckle and he smirks.

“Right, so you like my possessiveness, huh?” He leans down and nips your earlobe.

“Never said I hated it…” You bring his hand under your dress, running along your panties, and he chuckles darkly, the sound sending a shiver down your spine.

“Naughty girl…” His hands travel higher, toying with the fabric before he finally pulls it down your legs.

“I’m the only one who can touch you like this…” Xavier pulls the dress down next, leaving you with only a bra on. He quickly undoes that as well and you’re suddenly bare.

Giving you no time to protest, he kneels before you. His tongue running over your sensitive skin, exploring your folds. You moan quietly and grip his hair.

“Xav I…” He growls as he hears you mumble.

“You’re mine…” He growls against your skin, hands running up your thighs as he devours you. Pulling away once more, he looks up at you.

“And I don’t share pretty…” Diving back in he whines and you swear you see his eyes roll back.

His tongue darting for your silky folds, bliss overtaking his senses. You were a sight, and it was something he’d never get bored with seeing, tasting, or hearing.

Xavier moans against you and brings a hand down to palm himself through his tight pants.

“Mmm, we gotta let him hear you. Think these walls are soundproof or what?” He suddenly pulls away with a pop, your slick on his lips and you melt.

“Xavier… No we-” He quickly cuts you off and pulls you off the seat before dragging you to the couch, where there’s room.

He’s not a patient man, and he’s already growing impatient. He pushes you onto the couch and positions himself between your legs.

“You know I was gonna take things slow, but I don’t think that’s gonna work, baby.” He quickly pulls a condom out of his pocket, and you mentally question why he has it in there.

“Spread for me pretty girl…” He parts your legs, and he quickly takes off his clothes, standing to assist. Once bare, he gets back into position and rolls the condom on.

“Good girl, you look so pretty. All mine.” Xavier lines himself up with your entrance, sliding in with ease.

He groans at the feel of you around him. “Fuck… You feel so good. Mmm, bet Charlie wishes he could feel you like this.” He smirks down at you as he finally bottoms out.

His hips pull back before slamming back against you and you let out a loud moan. A groan from him follows.

“I’m the only man who’s getting this kind of treatment from you, right?” He murmurs against your neck as he continues his rhythm.

“Of course, Xav…” Letting out a breathy whisper, you wrap your arms around his broad back.

He moves his mouth to your collarbone, leaving bite marks and love bites all over your skin purposefully. Everyone will know you're his once they lay eyes on your skin.

You let out loud moans and cries as he continues the rough but tender pace. Every time you cry his name, it makes him possessive.

“Louder, I want to hear you…” He nips at your jaw, his lips hungry for more, needing to be on your body.

Xavier suddenly pulls you up and leans back, situating you on his lap, not slipping out of you once.

He bounces you and latches onto your hard peak, biting and sucking, earning more cries. You were certain the neighbors could hear you and you feel a sort of excitement and embarrassment.

“Ride me…” He whispers against your breast, his hands on your hips to help you keep steady and you listen.

Bouncing on him, the slaps of skin fill the room and pants from the two of you.

“Just like that…” He groans as you grind down on him, his grip on your hips tightening. Pulling away from your bruised nipple, he directs attention to the other. You whine and arch against him, pushing further into his mouth.

“Xav…” Moans leave your lips and he releases you with a pop, running his finger over your bruised skin.

Xavier suddenly lifts you up a bit and thrusts up into you, leaving the two of you breathless. You nearly collapse and he holds you against him.

“Xavier… The condom, take it off. I wanna feel you.” You whine against his neck and he groans before pausing.

He looks up at you through hooded eyes and he whispers. “…Are you sure?”

You nod, and he bites his lip. “I’m on birth control, Xav, it’s okay.” You offer a smile and he nods before gently lifting you off him.

He hovers you above him as he pulls it off. His cock hardens even more as the cold air hits him, a hiss leaving his mouth. Pre-cum coating his length, he strokes a few times before lowering you back down.

You two let out loud gasps as you feel each other bare. You move against him and he nods, “Mmm…”

He keeps one hand on your hip to steady you as his other explores your body, his touches almost desperate. Bodies moving together you both fill the room with moans, needy ones from him.

Your body tightens, and you feel a pit forming in your stomach. “Xavier, I’m not gonna last much longer.” You lean down and press kisses to his neck.

“Neither am I, I’m so close baby…” He mutters, almost a needy whine and you feel your stomach twist. His fingers going down to rub your clit in time with the pulsing of your body.

His fingers were all it took and you’re sent over the edge of oblivion. Xavier groans and finishes with you. His hand pulls away from your clit and he wraps his arms around your back.

You collapse into his arms and he holds you while you both ride through your climaxes. His cock throbs inside of you as he fills your womb, tip pressing to your cervix.

“Ah…” You let out a whine and he smirks, sweat dripping.

“So good baby…” He rubs your back as you catch your breath. You pull back and his gaze drifts over your face in admiration.

“Xavier…” you mutter, and he tucks a piece of your tousled, wet hair behind your ear.

“Will you… Will you only be like this when you’re upset?” You run your fingers gently across his jaw and he flutters his eyes shut.

“Will you always comfort me this way?” He smiles and leans in, kissing you, tangling your tongue with him once again.

The kiss was tender and endearing, pushing his love into it. And you the same. Your two bodies heat as you embrace each other.

After kissing a bit, he pulls you off him and lays you down on the couch beside him. Xavier gets up and heads to the bathroom, coming back with a cloth.

He quickly wipes the mess between your legs and takes it to the laundry room before returning to you.

His arms wrap around you and he pulls a throw blanket from the arm of the couch, throwing it over the two of you.

“You’ll never leave me, right?” He looks over at you and you shake your head with a look of love.

“I’ll never leave you.”

[sunsburns]

clark kent and those damn glasses (18+)

one of the most endearing things about clark is his glasses. and it’s not just the frames themselves—it’s the way he wears them.

they’re charmingly imperfect, a little too big for his face (funny since he’s already so huge), the wide frames sitting just slightly askew over his eyes. they’re always slipping down his nose when he’s focused on work, and you adore the way he absentmindedly pushes them up with his finger.

it’s such a dorky gesture, pressing his pointer finger to the bridge and nudging them back into place, sometimes scrunching his nose without even realizing it.

his glasses are rarely ever straight. they always seem just a little crooked, as if they have a mind of their own. you find it endlessly charming, especially when he’s flustered, rushing to adjust them in the middle of a conversation.

and the way his glasses fog up? it’s honestly the cutest thing you’ve ever seen. in the winter, it happens all the time, especially when he’s bundled up in one of those thick scarves his mom knitted for him. he doesn’t just wear them; he practically swaddles himself in them, wrapping them up so high they cover half his face, his chin tucked snugly inside.

and it wasn’t like he needed them, that man never really gets cold.

but when the cold air meets the warmth of his breath trapped behind the scarf, his glasses fog over completely.

and he doesn’t even notice right away.

“oh,” he’ll mumble, sheepish, pulling the scarf down just enough to blow warm air into his hands or wipe the lenses with his sleeve. and you can’t help but stare, heart melting a little more at how utterly unassuming he is.

but the best part is when they fog up because of you. when you kiss him—really kiss him—the lenses go misty, blurring the edges of his face until all you can focus on is how soft his lips feel against yours.

you tease him about it sometimes—“superman can’t even keep his glasses clean?”—but the way his ears turn red when you say it makes you kiss him again, and again, and again. and every time, he’s the same—pink-cheeked, slightly embarrassed, and completely perfect. sometimes he won’t even bother cleaning them, his hands sliding back to your waist, pulling you closer, because really, all he wants to see is you.

all he wants to feel is you.

clark kisses like the end of the world is coming. his lips are parted, hands everywhere—gripping your waist, cradling your face, sliding down your back as if trying to memorize the shape of you. his mouth slots against yours with an urgency that leaves you breathless. and when his knee nudges between your legs, he waits—waits for that gasp, that little sigh you can’t hold back—before slipping his tongue into your mouth to taste more of you, to pull you even closer.

and then there’s the glasses. sometimes, more often than not, you’re the one reaching for them, fingers brushing over his temples, trying to fix them on his face when they’ve slid down his nose. he’s too caught up in you to notice or care, but you can’t help yourself. it starts as a simple gesture—your hands reaching for his face, for his hair, for anything you can anchor yourself to. you nudge the glasses back into place, only to watch them fog up again as he groans against your mouth, his breath hot and heavy between kisses.

and sometimes, clark forgets to take them off when things get messy. one kiss turns into another, and another, until clothes are being pushed aside, his hands roaming, touching, claiming. his lips trail lower, over your jaw, your throat, your stomach, until he’s kneeling before you, arms wrapped tight around your thighs, his mouth hot and relentless against your cunt.

his glasses are still there, perched on his nose, slightly crooked but somehow still clinging on. the lenses catch the faintest glint of light, fogged over from his breath, smudged from the mess he’s making of you. his tongue drags through your folds with deliberate precision, teasing and tasting, and when his nose nudges your clit, you jolt, a whimper spilling from your lips.

“oh, baby,” you gasp, voice shaky and half-laughing when he moans at the sound of you calling him ‘baby’. the vibration travels through you, making your thighs tremble in his grip. his free hand slides up the outside of your leg, fingers splaying over your skin before grabbing a handful of your ass. he uses the grip to rock you against his mouth, his tongue dipping into you again and again, insistent and unrelenting. every movement, every touch, feels deliberate—he knows exactly what he’s doing, and he’s determined to ruin you.

his glasses slip further down his nose, but he doesn’t stop, doesn’t pause to fix them. his focus is entirely on you, on the way you’re gasping and squirming, your hands tangling in his hair, your hips bucking against his face. the wet, obscene sounds of his mouth on you fill the air, and you’re half-delirious with pleasure, your body trembling as he pushes you higher and higher.

it’s only when you’re shaking, your thighs trembling around his head, that he finally pulls back. his face is flushed, his lips shiny and swollen, and those damn glasses—crooked, foggy, and smudged—still cling to his nose. he grins at you, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand before finally pulling the glasses off and tossing them aside.

he rolls his eyes at your sad whine once they’re gone.

you’ve always liked his glasses for some reason.

[writersdrug]

I fully believe that Simon "Ghost" Riley wouldn't want an expensive, lavish honeymoon after your wedding. Of course, if that's what you dream of, he'll do it for you. He'd do anything for the person who loved him enough to marry him, scars and all. You want a beach-front, warm getaway in Costa Rica, filled with sunsets and quiet time by the waves? Say no more, he's looking for first class tickets already. You like the sound of a ski resort, surrounded by snowy alpines and hot chocolates, holding hands on the ski lifts and racing down the hills (you'd beat him every time, he's not one for winter sports)? He's asking if you'd prefer Smuggler's Notch in Vermont, or Vail Ski in Colorado. He'll do it if it's with you. He'll do anything for you.

But ask Simon what he wants, and he'll give you such a domestic answer: two or three weeks, somewhere in the United Kingdom, in a cottage backed up against the woods - preferably in autumn, when the leaves will be orange, the air will be misty, and the soft rain will be just enough to drown out his anxieties. Sure, he'd love to go hiking with you in Lake District, finding a good spot under the cover of the dense trees, listening to the sound of the babbling river and showing off his camping skills - harmlessly bickering with you about how it's not considered camping if you're in a cabin with electricity and running water. He rents an SUV and folds the seats down, throwing a mattress, blankets, and pillows in the back so the both of you can cuddle together while watching the stars.

But really, he just wants to exist with you for a while - as a married couple. He wants to wake up next to you without having anywhere to be at the ass crack of dawn, taking his time to watch the way you breathe so softly, the way you're always holding onto some part of him while you sleep, whether that's your arm wrapped around his bicep, your hand fisting his shirt, or your being wrapped tightly around his soul. He wants to cook meals with you, watch as you sway to whatever music you put on the telly, butt-bumping him as you chop vegetables and he stirs the pot on the stove. He wants to be next to you as you drag him around the rainy streets of Manchester, stepping into every bookstore or plant nursery you pass, eventually landing in a coffee shop and sitting close to each other, talking over a vanilla latte and a black coffee about how wainscoting is a gorgeous addition to homes, and how it's a crime that people tend to tear it down in modern decor. He promises to install some himself just for you, wherever you want it.

He wants to spend quiet nights at home, curled under the blanket on the couch, some random movie playing on the telly and the space heater blowing warm air on the both of you - he's too mesmerized at the way you're twirling the golden wedding band around your ring finger, biting back a smile every time you glance down at it (he has a wedding band too - but he'd never take it on missions. Instead, he has a simple line tattooed around his ring finger for when he has to leave the ring behind). He wants to make love to you, leaving soft kisses and nips along your skin, rolling his hips into you slowly and sensually, losing himself in the quiet moans, whispered I love you's, and the feeling of your nails carving the memory into the skin of his back. He wants to rest with himself inside of you, cradling you to his chest as he mumbles sleepily, "I love you, want to marry you every day of my life..." his rough hand tracing your skin, committing every bump, every curve, every vein to his memory. He wants to fall asleep there, letting go of his anxieties, any thoughts of doubt rolling off of his shoulders when he presses kisses to the back of your neck, his fingers slowly fiddling with the ring on your finger.

You're his quiet. His peace. You're soft sweaters, the sugar cube he drops into a warm mug of tea in his hands, the raindrops gently landing on his face, the smell of earth and pine at the edge of the woods, the sound of wood crackling in a warm fire. You're gentle, even when you're excited and bouncy, smothering him in kisses or forcing him to dance with you on the back patio. He knows you'll both have to leave this solace soon, returning to work like the wedding had never happened, forced to be cogs in the machine of society. But to Simon, each day after this will be a day he's married to you - each day will be a blessing, a reason to thank the universe, a reason to smile as he crosses the threshold of your shared home, a reason to crack his dad jokes outside of missions, a reason to join you on your weekly grocery runs, a reason to buy flowers once a week to replace the previous ones.

You're his peace.

[novacqnes]

✩ sore loser // vi

summary: with an undefeated streak of nine wins victory is sweet for pitfighter!vi, but losing can be even sweeter.

⋆ warnings: pitfighter!vi, brief mentions of blood, alcohol & violence, smut; oral, squirting & fingering [fem receiving], top!vi

⋆ pairing: vi x fem reader

⋆word count: 2.4k

⋆ a/n: stop the vi hate, she’s so hot and sexy and kind, i forbid it!

nails scraped feverishly against the scarred skin of vi’s arm. needy and sharp, they littered the rough surface, leaving behind deep pink crescents with each touch. back and forth, back and forth, they dug into her flesh almost mechanically as she remained fixed between your thighs. desperately bringing her tongue against your wet clit. she lapped up your fluids, allowing her soft lips to slide against your pussy effortlessly as you shook against her, fighting through a blurred haze. fiery tears crept from your eyes; one by one they surged forward, setting your cheeks aflame along with the rest of your body. it took everything—every last drop of unbearable desire and greed—to steal a glance at vi. 

slivers of jet black and red hairs clung to the crown of her forehead. her features were frozen; misty blue eyes caught on you. she wanted more, eager for it, as every aspect of your being entranced this woman. your taste lingered on her tongue as she sank back in for more, drawing desperate whines from your lips. your smell, sugary and thick, filled the room just the way she liked, overwhelming all her senses. or the way you moved against her, jerking your body with each flick of her tongue against your folds. down to the cries—your cries, which were lewd and slick, permeating the humid air around you. allowing her this small fragment in time where she could truly win.

her knees hit the ground first, a loud thud rang through your ears as vi sank onto the blood-stained concrete. her hands found their way there next, gripping onto the ground as they fought for an ounce of stability among the animalistic screams. they pierced the putrid air, trapping your body in the middle as hundreds of people pushed against you. they demanded she rise and fight for the very status that had left her undefeated for weeks, but she didn’t move. rather she pressed her eyes close, shutting out the light, her opponent’s bashed face, and any possible connection you may have had to her. her heart pounded against her chest, pleading with her to breathe, to no avail. 

a crushing weight pressed against vi’s chest, forcefully expelling the air from her body. every one of her muscles begged for her to stop. she slid forward, a gasp crawling up her lungs as a wave of agony consumed her. she could shrug off pain. she’d done it many times before, but each movement left her with that same dreadful sensation. her mind and body vied for two opposing sides, both resulting in her losing this match, yet she was relentless. her fingers scrapped the ground as she pulled herself up in one swift motion, violently suppressing the nerves that writhed in her stomach. once more, violet brought her arms to her side, guarding her face as she swung a bruised fist at her opponent. 

the white sheets felt damp in your palms, providing a gentle substitute for vi’s skin. in your hands it compressed, shrinking with each stroke of vi’s thumb against your clit. the pressure was light at first, growing more fervent by the second. she pressed a soft kiss to your thigh, her breath warm as she moved up hovering over your pussy. she lingered for a moment, teasing you with the slightest bit of contact before pulling away. tension bloomed at the pit of your stomach, taking hold of your hips and drawing you to vi’s mouth— begging her to come closer. your movements were shaky; you wouldn’t be able to hold for much longer, but vi had to let it. she gazed up at your body, a mumbling mess covered in a thin film of sweat at her efforts. it gave her satisfaction beyond any victory in the pit; this was just for her.

“fuck—t-there still may be a follow-up—you can try again,” you moaned, vi slipping a finger inside you. she curled them sharply as she leaned forward, gently pressing her lips to yours. 

she began slow; you leaned into vi’s warmth, savoring the taste that lingered on her tongue. euphoric was an understatement. this was everything vi was lacking, splayed out across her flimsy mattress. there was something about your pleasure being in her hands that pulled the best from her—and it wasn’t a matter of control. whether it was you on that bed or her, vi adored the fact that it was with someone. her fights were isolating, in spite of the dozens of people that filled the pit each night. they weren’t fighting with her—but right here you were.

“they don’t wanna see me, sweetheart.”

“violet—“she spat against your core, moving down until her lips met your pussy. her tongue traced against your folds, flicking up and down as her index finger moved in and out. she soon slipped in a second, third, and fourth, sinking them inside your cunt at an unfathomable pace. her body showed no signs of slowing down. thick veins bulged from her forearm, and splotches of pink colored her cheeks, but she was on overdrive. determination clouded her senses, erasing any semblance of pain that arose in her. 

she muttered into you, “i’m good right here, just relax for me, yeah?” her voice was silky smooth, with sultry lined at the very top of it. she kept your legs open, solidifying her place between them as she hummed, furiously lapping at your clit. she smacked obnoxiously, pressing herself deeper and deeper into you until you had no choice but to make more room for her. and your hands acted first. they snaked their way around your hamstrings, forcing each leg to your sides as vi hummed in praise, sending a soft vibration up your core. 

the pleasure was beyond words, propelling you to an alternate realm as you pulsed around vi’s fingers, sucking them in with each charged stroke. she molded to you perfectly, pressing against the spongy tissue of your g-spot for as long as she could. it was evident; every fiber of her being was in this room, pushing you towards ecstasy. soon, black dots crept into your vision, distorting vi from your view, and before long your eyelids followed suit, shutting the rest of the room from you. 

“oh you’ve such pretty eyes, keep them here, right here,” she cooed. that fucking tone. so gentle and attentive it was nauseating. her gaze was unwavering; as if this wasn’t enough, she refused to look away from you, forcing your eyes to the glassy wetness smeared across her face. those eyes—they latched onto you, urging you to watch your girlfriend sink herself nose deep into you over and over again. the pressure magnified with each brush of vi’s lips against your clit. 

the words were trapped in your throat, “fuck vi—oh“ halting as you rapidly began to unravel. your gaze finally broke from hers, pulling your eyes to the feeble ceiling lights. a string of profanities fell from your lips as you shook against her mouth, surrendering to the adrenaline that mercilessly ripped through your body. 

“you don’t know what you do to me... so needy and beautiful. push yourself back on to me,” vi whispered, her voice dropping to a dangerously low octave. it sent a shiver up your spine, as the sensitivity followed. the pleasure bordered on overstimulation, but to say you wanted it to end would’ve been a lie. the sensations were purely addictive, bringing your body to her lips while in the same breath employing your hand to block her. making sense of it in the moment was nearly impossible thus, it took everything in you not to faint right then.

you gasped, “i-can’t—“

“move your hand y/n, let me hear it sweetheart.” 

vi’s brows furrowed slightly, dipping down as her eyes landed on your fingers, shakily obscuring her view. she watched as they moved mere inches, pausing at your lower stomach. she brought a hand to them, softly caressing your skin with her thumb, and carefully noting how you shuddered, whining at the slightest hint of contact. you were close, yes, but this couldn’t be rushed. 

vi moved from your legs, pressing her pink lips to your neck as she toyed with your clit, rubbing slow torturous circles into you. she kept a steady pace, not budging even when you grinded against her. rather she peppered your clavicle with kisses, running her tongue along the tender skin of your exposed neck. heat simmered at your cheeks, consuming the rest of your face as vi wielded your pleasure for her own satisfaction. every whine and gasp served to fuel what was left of her tattered ego. the control intoxicated her, restoring vi with a confidence that she hadn’t experienced since she set foot in the pit.

yet it was also about you—pleasing you—that drove violet insane. her body was quickly approaching its limit; it ached with dark purple bruises that covered her knees and fingers that were raw from the constant friction of bandages. vi adored this. she fell in love with the idea of giving every last bit of what she had to offer, and after her loss, she was destined to prove that even more. 

“holy shit,” you muttered, pressing your forehead against hers. desperation oozed from your voice as you cupped vi’s face in your palm. beyond your voice, the surrender was palpable. heavy eyelids shielded most of your eye, leaving visible only small glints of pigment. it grew increasingly difficult to focus on her but the same couldn’t be said for vi. she pushed the black strands from her face leaning against you as she picked up the pace. adding more and more pressure to the bundle of nerves—but it wasn’t enough. she would move her arm, delicately flexing the muscles in her forearm in restraint. her mouth would hover over your ear, teasing you with her tongue. she used it against you deliciously, following the long veins that trailed your neck until you were a whimpering mess. it was a tireless endeavor that vi trekked for hours. all of her efforts culminating in this one moment before ruining it all with a sudden halt. 

“vi please—“ 

she shook her head. “beg, baby.”

“please let me cum for you.” weakly you took her hands in yours, moving them from your clit, you slurred, “i wanna cum all over you.

she laid a soft kiss on your cheek, slipping her index back as you wrapped around her beautifully, blanketing her skin in a unique warmth that drew a gasp hum from vi’s lips. she curved them upward, meeting your g-spot once again. you shifted underneath her body, moaning into her ear completely unabashed. the anticipation reveled inside you with vi building on her speed. sweat dripped from her temples, sticking the dark black strands to her forehead. slowly, she came undone with you. her jagged breaths began to match yours, and her movements were growing more and more shallow.

streams of euphoria rifled through your body as the pit returned at the bottom of your stomach, paralyzing you from the waist down. torturously vi’s fingers met your g-spot, prodding and teasing the surface. your heart continued to race, beating out of your chest until it was the only thing that vi could hear; your moans slowly taking a backseat. limb by limb, the heat consumed you, leaving you victim to the overwhelming pleasure that began at your pussy, sending the rest of your body into a tailspin. 

she egged you on, “just like that, sweetheart, fuck, just like that." you could no longer make out vi’s beautiful face; the slight curve of her cheek was faint along with the rest of her features as you writhed against her. quickly losing control of the autonomy you once had. the pit within your stomach only sped up the process, bringing tears to your eyes as you cried, sinking your nails into the mattress. with one last thrust of vi’s finger, fluids rushed from your pussy, soaking the sheets underneath you in one swift motion. you were falling, silently surrendering to the emotions that took hold of your body. for that time, your body wasn’t entirely your own but a vehicle that only vi could steer. 

she took her place beside you, wrapping her arms around your waist as a pervasive silence fell upon the room. her hands soothingly rubbed the skin of your thigh, almost lulling you to sleep as the bright lights faded from view. you could feel her slowly succumbing to fatigue yet she moved closer, snuggling against your back. 

you tapped her arm, “hey, you did your best.”

“that’s what scares me,” she shrugged. there was always this slight divide between vi and what she did in the pit. you could see it. it was draining, extracting every bit of light from vi’s soul like an eternal vacuum. if anything, you were slightly grateful for this loss; it alleviated some of the pressure that burdened her, yet this wasn’t enough to put an end to it. truly the only person that could pry vi away from this place was herself. 

you turned to face her, “maybe that means it’s time to stop.” 

vi pressed her lips shut, her blue eyes briefly meeting the ceiling before falling back on you.

“if not, then you’ll probably lose again, which totally sucks but I’ll be here when you do,” you sighed. she allowed your hands to roam her sculpted arms. thumb tracing the ink etched into her tricep. uncertainty steadily filled the room as you both sat in silence, taking in the sight of one another. it offered you a slight glimmer of hope beyond the pit, a hope for a brighter future. one in which vi could simply be, without tirelessly fighting to prove her worth in every fight. she was worthy of love, and hopefully this moment of you two merely admiring each other was enough to begin that process. 

“i’ll make sure to lose each time then,” she chuckled, jumping up from the mattress. a smile tugged at the corners of her lips, but you refrained from pointing it out, basking in the joy that settled over your girlfriend. it was small moments like these that made it all worth it. 

you began, “that’s not what i meant—“

“i’ll go check out that follow-up fight; you stay right here.”

[cosmicalily]

'real love baby' with stray kids, ot8 headcanons by @cosmicalily

author's note: i absolutely adore this song by father john misty; i think it's the sweetest love song and just so prettily written. i wanted to do headcanons kind of similar to my 'everything is romantic' ones, where instead of just going off typical love languages and tropes (which are beautiful in their own way!), i kind of make up my own and unique scenarios for each! hope you enjoy! warnings: angst in hyunjin's, jisung's, and seungmin's (reasonably mild)

Chris, who loves you adoringly.

It was quiet in your apartment when you got home, although you knew that Chris would most definitely not be asleep. However, you walked through slowly and silently, just in case he was doing something important. Suddenly, you walked into a firm, black tank-top clad chest and squealed. A bouquet of roses dropped to the floor, petals falling everywhere. “I’m sorry, I was trying to be sneaky,” You sighed, shifting your sock across the petals. “Were these for me?” “No, they were for Han Jisung,” Chris deadpanned, then burst out giggling. “Of course they were. Although they’re a bit fucked up now. Sorry, baby.” You smiled at him. “That’s okay. What was the occasion, anyway? It’s not anywhere near our anniversary or my birthday or anything.” “Nothing. Just wanted to remind you that you’re a cute girl who deserves cute stuff like this, and that I love you.”

Minho, who loves you quietly.

When you come home from a girls’ night out, Minho doesn’t like to immediately approach you at the door. Instead, he stays where he is, sitting upright in bed, phone on his bedside table. He watches you as you undo your hair, take off your dress and put on your pyjamas. He watches you in the bathroom mirror, wiping off your makeup and washing your face. When you’re done, you come to him in bed, and it’s then that he pulls you onto his lap, slipping his hands around your waist and kissing you softly. It’s the moments like this that the two of you crave, the little pockets of quiet amongst your chaotic lives. And that’s where you’ll stay, cosy against each other, minimal words exchanged. Because he can’t ever find any that fully expresses the warmth he feels for you, the love in his eyes as he observes you simply existing. “Hold me,” is all he mumbles, and that’s exactly what you do.

Changbin, who loves you loudly.

“Doesn't my girlfriend look beautiful today?” Changbin asks, gesturing towards you. You’re pretty sure you’ve heard this exact question seven times now, said to each of the boys, and you’re not even that dressed up. However, to Changbin, in a simple pink sweater and loose jeans, you’re the equivalent of a Victoria’s Secret Angel, wings, halo and all.  “This feels like a trick question. If I say yes, you’re gonna punch me. If I say no, you’ll do the same,” Chris sighs, but offers you a smile. “I like the sweater.” “Thanks,” you reply, lightly shoving your boyfriend. “Changbin, sweetheart, that’s enough. Talk to them about other things. It’s boring otherwise.” “You’re not boring! You’re all I ever want to talk about,” he pouts, and you giggle.

Hyunjin, who loves you intensely.

Sometimes Hyunjin feels like he’s too much for you. At times, in between his dramatic statements, sweet pieces of poetry and watercolour paintings, he feels a tiny bit of fear. Fear that all his romantic gestures simply overwhelm you. When he gets himself into this fragile headspace, it’s you that returns his passionate love, reminding him that it’s the reason you fell for him in the first place. Carrying a huge bouquet of flowers, you confront your boyfriend, who is sitting on the couch, scrolling on his phone. He’s been quiet today. “Flowers for you, pretty boy,” you declare, thrusting the bouquet into his arms. “I also sent you the link to a playlist of songs I want to play at our wedding, and there’s wine in the kitchen.” “Baby…when I do things like this for you, it’s not too much, is it? I’m not too much for you?” he asks, placing the flowers on the floor and reaching for your waist. “Never. You could never be, Hyune.”

Jisung, who loves you softly. 

You’d been best friends with Jisung since the beginning of high school, and dating since the end. He was your other half, someone who’d been with you since the start and who you knew would stay until the end. You were both fragile at times; him with his anxiety and you with your melancholia. There were days that were tough, times where you both needed endless support and validation just to make it to the end. Today, you lay in the bath, your body numb, head hurting. You weren’t in a good headspace, and Jisung knew this when he approached you gently. “Do you want me to rub your shoulders, baby?” he’d asked softly, running the pad of his thumb across your eyes where the tears brimmed. “Yes please,” you’d mumbled in response, and he kissed the tip of your nose.

Felix, who loves you warmly.

Felix would see the two of you in everything, from an old couple drinking tea to a pair of marshmallow keychains. He loved you more than he thought was possible, in ways that made his heart feel fit to bursting. It brought him a rush of excitement and joy, something he carried with him throughout the day. His favourite time with you was the mornings; the sunlight from the open window pouring into the room, casting a yellow glow. You always woke up before him, leg thrust across his, forehead pressed against his neck, pressing soft kisses to the warm skin. “Morning, sweet girl,” he’d murmur, voice groggy. “Did you sleep well?” “Dreamt of you,” you’d reply chirpily, and he’d giggle. He hoisted your body off his, laying you on your back. Pressing a kiss to your forehead, his hands travelled to your waist, before he tickled the soft skin.

Seungmin, who loves you unconditionally.

It had not been an easy day for you. On top of your hormones, a full day at work and having not seen your boyfriend for a week while he’d been filming overseas, you’d just remembered you had an assignment due that evening at midnight. When Seungmin came through the door, eyes bright and smile wide, excited to see you, you threw yourself at him, bursting into tears. He pulled you in close and tight, letting you cry into his shoulder. He didn’t know what had happened, whether you were upset or angry or stressed, but he held you, because he didn’t mind. Your body relaxed against his a little, and you pulled away, eyes puffy. “I’m sorry,” you mumbled. “I’m such a mess.” “Don’t be,” he replied honestly, and kissed your cheek softly. “You breathed today. That’s enough to be proud of.”

Jeongin, who loves you sweetly. 

You and Jeongin’s love for fashion was what had sparked your relationship in the first place; you’d met him on Depop of all places, purchasing a leather jacket he didn’t wear enough. He’d asked for your Instagram so he could see pictures of you in ‘his baby’, and as a result, your crush had blossomed. Now, he didn’t have to sell you his clothes; they were in his wardrobe, free for you to grab whenever he wanted. And he encouraged it, because he loved seeing you in them. He’d also often buy pieces for you that he thought you’d like. “I found this skirt in the vintage shop down the road,” he’d said, pulling out a plaid miniskirt. “It’s like the one I saw saved on your Pinterest board.” “Baby, that is the one saved on my Pinterest board,” you’d gasped, staring at the skirt in shock. “It’s also Vivienne Westwood. I don’t even want to know how much it cost you.” “Then I won’t tell you,” he replied plainly, smiling. “Go try it on. You’ll look adorable.”

[jamminvroomvroom]

hi babe i’m here from the dms but. speaking of brain rot, thinking abt fwb lando again where u stay the night after and wake up in the morning expecting him to be gone already for smth work related or what not but he’s still in bed absolutely clinging to u. and then more soft sleepy morning sex 🫠🫠

play pretend.

ln x fem!reader

in which it’s time to stop pretending…

just a little blurb to say…. HAPPY BIRTHDAY @lavenderlando !! sorry i made you wait like 6 months for this lmfao i love u girl, u mean the world to me and i hope this hits the spot 💖💖 lemme know what y’all think, more 4k requests will be worked on asap (it’s exam szn ew)

songs to set the mood: denial by james marriott, real love baby by father john misty, can i call you rose? by thee sacred souls

warnings: 18+!! minors go away! smut, morning sex, friends to lovers, best friend!reader, friends with benefits type relationship, fluff, unprotected sex (don’t be silly…)

1k words

cool air casts goosebumps over your bare skin, the open window letting in the morning breeze. you tug at the grey bedsheets, dragging them higher over your frame where you lay. you eyes are cracked open, hazily taking in the sight before you.

he’s still here.

you often expect lando to be gone when you wake up. sometimes it’s because of work, sometimes it’s because you’d promised not to do this again but alcohol had then rendered the both of you irresistible to the other, and it was too awkward to have yet another jarring conversation about how you’re such good friends.

but he’s there. and he’s looking at you.

“hi.” he croaks, soft and low. you revel in his morning voice on the rare occasions you get to hear it.

“hey.” you mumble, leaning in closer to him.

he pushes the duvet up and away, inviting you into his arms, and you wriggle towards him. he’s a human heater, and you’re cold, that’s the only reason you snuggle up, tucked between his arms.

“you’re still here.” you whisper into his chest, purposefully quiet, almost as if you don’t actually want him to hear you.

“couldn’t leave you.” he mutters quietly.

you crane your head to look up at him, eyes blown wide at the admission.

“why?”

“i hate leaving after.”

the ‘after’ hangs heavy in the air between you for a second. he’s eyeing up your lips and you’re returning the gesture, sleepy eyes flitting between his and his plush lips.

this never happens. usually, the night starts with too many drinks too quickly, progresses to his hands dropping dangerously low on your waist, leads to the pair of you mentally scarring an innocent taxi driver, and ends with you underneath him. or, on top of him. and then, he’s gone.

“for the record, i hate it when you go.” you reply, and the space between you dissipates. there are so many unsaid words being traded between you, an intense charge of energy. you’re anxiously sliding your hands up his sides, itching to feel impossibly closer.

“maybe i should stop going then, hm?” two of lando’s fingers grasp your chin, tilting it up to bump his.

“yeah.” you breathe.

it’s like he’s tugged an invisible string, and you’re melting into him, his lips slotting immaculately over yours, as if they were sculpted by god to rest against yours. he tastes familiar, it’s rare you get to kiss him sober and in the light of day. you bask in it, finding the messy, loose curls tickling the back of his neck, threading your fingers through the thick, brown strands. he groans, parting his mouth just enough for you to slide your tongue over his.

“want you. now.” you gasp urgently into the space where your lips part, your body rolling hungrily against his.

“i always want you, drives me crazy.” lando grunts, grabbing a handful of your ass and pulling you even closer.

lando slots his thigh between your legs, and you search for friction, rutting against him. you’re both naked from the blurry night before so you can feel everything, each part of him so ready for you. you’re slick for him already, can feel the way it’s painting your inner thighs. you hate how easy it is to lose yourself in him.

“take me then.” you whine, your forehead collapsing against his shoulder.

lando smirks, flipping you over so that your back is to his chest, like you’re nothing. he hooks your top leg over his, sliding himself closer to where you’re aching for him.

“can’t keep pretending.” lando whispers against the shell of your ear.

he slides deep, then, filling you to the hilt. it knocks the air out of you, your back arching at the sensation of him hitting every single spot that mattered.

“then let’s not pretend anymore.” you choke out, your head rolling back against his shoulder.

“yeah, baby? wanna be all mine?” he teases, thrusting deep and slow, the slide of him shooting pleasure over your body like the slow, satisfying drip of warm honey.

“already am, all yours.” you sigh, totally and utterly content as your nerve endings pulsed with pleasure.

“good girl.” lando praises, his voice fucked out and lovestruck.

as if he’s rewarding you for your admission, the pad of his finger slips down your navel, finding your clit. you’re soaked for him, wet and warm, and he traces circles into the bundle of nerves, each touch sending you keening back into him.

“so close.” you sound like you’re begging, pleading for him to let you finish all over him.

“gotta say please.” he nips the skin of your shoulder and you squirm, toes curling.

“please, lando.” you writhe, canting your hips back against him.

“sound so pretty for me.” he coos, peppering kisses down your neck.

his fingers speed up against your folds, working you perfectly to a sweet release. everything is still blurred by sleep, your body overly sensitive from the cool air pouring in through the window and the slumber still lodged in your bones.

“cum with me.” you slur, your eyes squeezing shut. you almost turn into him, convulsing in his arms to the point where you’d be staring into his stormy eyes if you could manage to pry yours open.

“let me see those eyes.” he commands, your entire body shuddering. you blink, staring up at him, and you both fold, meeting your ends. he looks fierce, starved, completely enamoured with every single way your face moves.

your jaw hangs agape, a choked cry stifled in the back of your throat. it’s all too much, and just about enough, huge, calloused hands roaming your body as your shake, spilling all over him.

“god.” you breathe, flopping limply against him. he stays buried inside of you, his face lost to the damp skin of the crook of your neck.

“i never would of left all those mornings if i knew this is the good morning i’d get.” lando laughs, the sound deep and wholesome. you cosy yourself up even closer to him.

“not letting you leave from now on.” you murmur, smiling to yourself when you feel his lips press against the back of your head.

“you couldn’t get rid of me if you tried.”

-

sorry this is soooo bad lmao i felt the urge to write something short n sweet xoxo

-

taglist

@boysthatgovroomvroom @welld0nebaku @thegirlinthefandoms @mcmuppet @japanesekel @vinvantae @ggaslyp1 @dr3lover @smiithys  @rachstash @infinitebells @fizzpopsnap101 @gaily19 @icecoldtires @mysticalnightenthusiast @thatchickwiththecamera @oyesmendes @disneydaydreameralways @canyouseethesainz @ferrarifwendvale @fcbformulaeri @tony-stank3 @maih23 @soleilgrec @carolineworld @anthonykatebridgerton @allywthsr @iamasimpingh0e @ophcelia @lovelynikol16 @coffeehurricanes @jennx03 @blueflorals @lqvesoph @sidcrosbyspuck @better-dead-than-smeg @buendiabebeta @pjofics @kovalcin @wintergilmore3 @for-writing-shit @youdontknowmeshh @im-an-overthinker @jule239 @darleneslane @jazzy722 @weasleyswizarding-wheezes @therealone4r @pleasecallmeunhinged @theonlyadrienne @spideylovin @formulaal

[shy-canadian-snowflake]

Wade and Logan sleeping

Wade: *knees Logan in the kidney*

Logan: Fuck! Wade you kneed me, you prick

Wade: *mumbles in sleep* Yeah, I do need you.

Logan: *trying not to get misty eyed* 🥲

[revvywevvy-archive]

Do Chip and Misty have to play a game of who gets to cuddle Euca at nap time

Or does our two Favorite touch-stare Himbo and Bimbo get to just past her around like a feel good blunt

heehee whether it's naptime or bedtime it's all sharesies! if it's not a cuddle pile then sleep's gonna either be difficult or very lonely at the least x_x

I feel like they'd most likely sleep like this :> Chip gets middle since he's a big fella and Chelly and Misty can uh. rotate sides idk.

[scumvillains]

something about boys who are mean to u upon meeting but after being exposed to your sweetness instantly become obsessed with you