#Oh God imagine there's a x reader in there

[waitimcomingtoo]

Built A Fire Just To Keep Me Warm

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader enemies to lovers

Synopsis: you and Peter are in the same friend group but never got along. That doesn’t keep him from making sure you never get cold

Masterlist

“Guys, why is it so damn cold in here?” You groaned and rubbed your arms up and down. The thought of sitting in your lecture class for the next hour with your professor with the dullest voice imaginable somehow made you even colder.

“I told you to layer up.” MJ shrugged. “But you never want to listen during layer talk. You know this guy always cracks the AC.”

“I always listen during layer talk.” Ned mumbled and threw his scarf over his shoulder.

You looked at your professor in the front of the room and then up at the vent above you.

“Why though? It’s the middle of December. My arm hairs should not be standing up.” You said and held your arm up for MJ to see.

“Maybe you should wear a jacket.” Peter interjected, making you all look at him.

“What was that?” You asked him. Ned signaled for him to stop talking but Peter had a point to make.

“I was just saying. You know this professor always has the AC on. But you always come to class in thin shirts and then complain that you’re cold.” Peter said. You sat up in your chair so you could fully face Peter and narrowed your eyes at him.

“So?”

“So,” he mimicked your tone, “You know its going to be cold in here. But you still never wear a jacket. Maybe you should put one on next time so you won’t have this problem.”

“And maybe you should mind your business. I wasn’t even talking to you.” You grumbled and slumped down in your chair. Peter watched you rubbing your arms to keep warm and rolled his eyes a little.

“You were talking to the group.” Peter pointed out. “I’m in the group. So it was my business.”

“No, I was talking to MJ.” You stated as your annoyance for him grew.

“You said “guys, why is it so damn cold in here?”. That implies you were asking all of us.” Peter corrected. Ned and MJ exchanged a look as you glared at Peter.

“Okay, but I didn’t say ‘Peter, I’m really cold. Please give me your professional opinion on how to prevent that’. I was just making an observation.”

“But that’s not really an observation though, is it?” Peter asked. “It’s a declarative statement. We were in Linguistics together. I’m surprised you don’t remember that.”

“Oh my God.” You groaned. “Why do you have to be such a know it all?”

“I don’t know. Why do you insist on wearing the flimsiest shirts to class and then complaining that you’re cold?” Peter retorted.

“There’s about to be an active threat in this classroom.” You mumbled under your breath.

“What do you mean?” Ned asked you.

“I mean I’m about to beat Peter up.” You told him.

“Knock it off you two.” MJ warned. “Can you guys go one day without going at each other?”

“Tell Peter that. He started it.” You reminded her.

“I don’t care. I don’t want any bickering at my party tonight.” She said. “It can’t be like Friendsgiving. Because that was giving enemies instead of friends.”

“If you don’t want any fighting then you’ll have to uninvite Peter.” You told her.

“I can’t. He’s the only one with an ID. We need him for the alcohol.” MJ replied.

“I’m right here.” Peter pointed out

“Unfortunately.” You mumbled.

“Speaking of alcohol, I can’t go with him to get it.” Ned cut in. “My Lola has a sixth sense for this kind of thing. If I even look at a bottle of alcohol, she’ll know about it and strike me dead.”

“Then you’re going to have to go with him. I’ll be busy setting up.” MJ told you.

“What?” You whined. “I don’t want to go with him. Why can’t he go alone?”

“Again, right here.” Peter stated and waved his hand.

“Because of the Buddy System.” MJ answered. “Remember when we sent Ned alone to the bodega to get Sun Chips? He almost got kidnapped.”

“The only reason the man didn’t take me was because he thought my choice of chips was disgusting.” Ned whispered.

“That’s valid.” You shrugged. “I wouldn’t kidnap you either.”

“Can you guys just go together this once? For me? For little mixed drink loving old me?” MJ pleaded and held your hand to her heart.

“Fine.” You sighed and rubbed your hands up and down your arms. Peter watched you doing this and then looked up at the vent above you.

“Don’t act so excited about it.” Peter mumbled to you.

“I’m not.” You scoffed and gave him a look.

“I was being sarcastic.”

“So was I.” You said as Peter got up out of his seat.

“Where are you going?” You asked him.

“To pee. Is that allowed?” He sassed you.

“Go piss girl.” Ned called after Peter as he walked down the steps of the lecture room, earning many stares from other classmates.

“Ned, no.” MJ whispered. “That’s not relevant anymore.”

“Oh shit. Um, mama a hawk tuah diva behind you?” Ned asked to try and fix his mistake.

“Just stop while you’re ahead.” MJ replied with a pat on his knee. She then turned to you with a devious smile.

“Peter totally likes you.” She whispered.

“What?” You laughed. “No he doesn’t. We’re barely even friends. I only tolerate him since he’s friends with Ned. And I mess with Ned heavy.”

Just then, Peter came back from the bathroom and stopped at the professors desk. You watched them curiously but you couldn’t hear what they were saying. When Peter walked away from the desk, your professor went over to the thermostat and turned the AC off. You felt the vent above you stop spewing cold air just as Peter came back to where you were all sitting. He didn’t look at you but his cheeks were pink as he sat down. MJ and Ned hadn’t noticed what happened so you leaned over to him to whisper.

“Why did you do that?” You asked him.

“You said you were cold.” He shrugged, still without looking at you.

“So? Why do you care if I’m cold?”

“I don’t. I was cold too. Not everything’s about you.” He said quickly. You decided to drop it but you found the interaction strange.

Later that day, you and Peter kept a distance between you as you walked towards the nearest corner store. You had your arms folded to keep your hands warm and Peter was fighting the urge to comment on your lack of preparation for the cold.

“Do you have the list?” You asked Peter as you neared the store.

“I do. But it just says “alcohol” so we’re going in blind.” He answered. You couldn’t help but laugh at MJ’s lack of instructions as you rubbed your arms up and down. Peter noticed this and was about to offer his jacket when you reached the store. Instead, he held the door for you and you smiled in surprise.

“Thanks. Let’s just get what we need and get out of here.” You said, feeling awkward now as you walked past him into the store. You were never really alone with him so you weren’t expecting him to be so civil. You split up and went down each isle to collect a few token party items. As you browsed, you kept feeling Peter’s eyes on you but you never looked up to check.

“They don’t have MJ’s favorite vodka here. She’s gonna kill us if we don’t come back with it.” Peter came up to you to tell you.

“Damn. We could try the store two blocks down. They usually have it.”

“All right. Let’s go.” Peter said and nodded towards the door. As you started to walk to the next store, the frigid New York air hit you and sent a chill through your entire body. You shuddered and blew hot air on your hands before holding your arms to keep warm.

“Are you cold?” Peter asked you.

“Of course I’m cold. It’s brick out here.”

“How come you never wear a jacket if you’re always cold?” He asked. He didn’t sound accusatory, just curious.

“Because I thought we were just running to the store by the dorms. I didn’t think I’d need one.” You replied. Peter fought every instinct in his body that told him to stay silent and unzipped his jacket.

“Take mine.” He offered and held it out to you.

“What?” You laughed in surprise. “No way.”

“Come on. Don’t be stubborn. You’re freezing. Just take it.”

“I’m not taking your jacket. I’m fine.” You insisted and continued to shiver.

“Just take the damn jacket.” He sighed and put it over your shoulders. You wanted to be stubborn, but you more so wanted to be warm. You gave him a look and slipped your arms into his jacket. You instantly felt better and smiled a little at your new protection from the cold. Peters jacket hung a little big on you but kept you perfectly warm.

“Thank you.” You said timidly. “But aren’t you cold?”

“Nah.” He waved his hand. “I run hot.”

You had reached the next store by that point and he opened the door for you once again. You flashed him a quick smile and went inside to get the drinks for MJ. You found it quickly and joined him at the cash register.

You hugged Peter’s jacket tightly around you as you walked back to the dorms together. He felt better now that he wasn’t watching you freeze to death and you felt better now that you were safe from the bitter wind. You dropped Peter off at the boys dorm before going back to yours and MJs room. As soon as you walked in, you were hit with a familiar scent that made you suspicious. You looked around the dorm until you found what you were looking for.

“Oh, hey. You’re back.” MJ smiled when she found you.

“What’s this?” You asked and pointed to the mistletoe taped to the ceiling of the kitchen.

“Nothing.” MJ said quickly. “It’s basil.”

“You have basil taped to the ceiling?” You asked skeptically.

“I’m Italian.” She shrugged.

“No you’re not. I’ve eaten pasta you’ve made. It was like chewing a pen cap. There’s no Italian in that blood.”

“You got me. It’s mistletoe.” She admitted. “Arranged beautifully due to my floral arrangement class, may I add. I hung it incase you wanted to kiss any boys tonight.”

“I knew it. You’re still trying to set me up with Peter. It’s never going to work so give up now. Now matter how much basil you hang up.” You said and snatched the mistletoe down.

“You fight it but my lesbian instincts tell me that you guys are meant to be.” MJ said and held her hands up in defense. “And you better hang that back up because that was my only bushel of mistletoe.”

“The same lesbian instincts that made us get on that bus to Long Island? I can never un-go to Long Island, MJ. You did that to us.”

“It was dark. All the buses looked the same.” She defended herself. “But trust. My instincts are right about this one.”

“They’re not.” You stated. “I don’t like Peter like that. I don’t even like him as a friend.”

“Okay. Sure. I believe you. Nice jacket, by the way.” She smirked before walking away. You looked down and remembered you were wearing Peter’s beat up winter jacket. You quickly followed her into the kitchen area to continue the conversation.

“That doesn’t mean anything. I was cold.”

“Yeah. I bet he was too. Especially after he gave you his jacket.” She said smugly.

“He said he runs hot.” You insisted.

“Yeah. Hot for you. Ayo.” She grinned and held up her hand for a high five.

“That’s not getting a high five.” You said flatly. “There better not be any more surprises. Don’t try to intervene tonight, okay? Peter and I would never work.”

“I thought you said you and Peter would never happen. Now you’re saying it just wouldn’t work? Sounds like someone’s having a change of heart.” MJ clicked her tongue as she finished setting up for the party.

You rolled your eyes at her and didn’t respond as you helped her put out snacks. While setting a bowl of chips out on the table, you caught a whiff of Peter’s cologne coming off the jacket. You instinctively smiled at the scent before you caught yourself. You had never thought about it before, but now that MJ put the idea in your head, you couldn’t help but wonder if there was a deeper reason that you and Peter never got along.

An hour later, the party was in full swing. You made your rounds and greeted people as you filled their cups up some more. You would never admit it, but you were a little disappointed to not see Peter in the crowd yet. MJ noticed you searching the room every so often and took a place by your side.

“Looking for Peter?” She asked with a smug expression.

“What? No. Like I care if that doink shows up. I’m looking for Ned. He’s supposed to bring the…. Sun Chips.” You lied to cover up what you were really doing.

“Right, right. Of course. And how do you feel about Sun Chips?” She asked sarcastically.

“I need some air.” You said quickly and walked away from her. To get away from the crowd, you went out to your room and crawled out the window to sit on the roof. You hugged Peter’s jacket tightly around yourself and stared up at the night sky. The sound of the party coming through your open window sounded a million miles away. You drew your knees to your chest and rested your chin on them as the cold wind sent a chill through your body.

“Hey.” You heard behind you, making you turn around. You saw Peter coming through your bedroom window and come join you on the roof. You got a new feeling in your chest as he sat beside you.

“Hey.” You smiled softly at him. He returned the smile before an awkward silence settled between the two of you. You didn’t know how to interact after he was nice to you on your trip to the store.

“Thanks for walking through my bedroom with your dirty converse on.” You said to break the silence.

“Like my shoes were the dirtiest thing in that room. I’m pretty sure I saw a rat eating your homework.” He mumbled. You stared at each other as you both tried to read the situation. You were bickering like usual, but there was a playful sense to it this time.

“That’s just our third roommate, dummy.” You replied, adding to the teasing nature of the conversation.

“Ah, I see.” Peter chuckled before looking down shyly. The awkward silence returned but you found yourself hoping he didn’t leave.

“How come you’re out here? You’re not having fun?” He asked after a beat.

“It got a little overwhelming in there. I needed some alone time.”

“Oh, I could go.” He offered and went to stand up.

“You could stay.” You said and stopped him from getting up by placing your hand over his. You watched Peter turn bright red so you quickly withdrew your hand. It was quiet again and you both looked anywhere but each other.

“How come you’re not in there with Ned and all them? Didn’t you just get here?” You asked to break the silence.

“Oh, yeah. Ned and I just got here. But I walked by your room and I saw the window open. I was going to close it until I saw you out here.” He answered a little too quickly.

“Why were you by my room? The party is in the kitchen area.” You wondered. Peter was flushed again and a smile tugged at your lips.

“Were you looking for me?” You asked in a quiet voice. Before Peter could deny the allegations, a gust of wind hit the two of you. You shivered and rubbed your hands together to stay warm.

“What’s wrong?” Peter asked you.

“You know what’s wrong.” You said with a slight roll of your eyes. Instead of pointing out that you were purposefully outside on the chilly roof, Peter took both your hands in his. You watched him curiously as he rubbed his hands up and down yours to generate heat. It occurred to you both at the exact same time that this was the first time you’d ever touched. You locked eyes with him and thought he’d let go, but he instead leaned down to blow some hot air on your hands to warm you up.

“Thanks.” You said softly. “That feels better.”

“You’re welcome.” He said in just as timid of a voice. The awkwardness returned and you turned away from each other to avoid it.

“I’m sorry about before. In class, I mean. It was none of my business. You can wear whatever you want.” Peter said after a minute.

“It’s fine.” You waved your hand. “Maybe you kinda sorta possibly had a point. I knew it would be cold. I should’ve worn a jacket. Besides, we always go at each other like that. Don’t be sorry.”

“You’re right. We do always fight.” He agreed. “Do you ever wonder why?”

“Oh, um. I don’t know.” You shrugged. “I assumed that’s just how we are.”

“Yeah, it is.” He nodded. “But how did it start? Did we just meet one day and decide we hated each other? I was trying to think about it the other day but I couldn’t remember.”

“Well, I remember MJ telling me she made a friend in her floral arrangement class. Which I told her not to take, by the way.”

“I told Ned the same thing.” Peter sighed. “I said it was a waste of time and credits. He didn’t listen. But he did make me a beautiful bouquet for my birthday.”

“MJ failed so she got me a gift card to Staples.” You replied, making Peter laugh.

“Why Staples?”

“I don’t know. I’m pretty sure she found it on the ground.”

“Did you ever use it?” He asked.

“I did. And guess what I got.”

“Staples?”

“Yep.” You nodded, making him laugh again. You never realized it before, but Peter had the kind of laugh that made you want to say the most random things just to hear it again. His eyes crinkled when he laughed or smiled, another thing you hadn’t noticed before.

“I remember Ned introducing me to MJ, and then MJ introduced me to you. But I don’t remember how our dynamic started and why we fight all the time.”

“Hm.” You hummed. “It’s funny.”

“What is?” He wondered.

“The one time we’re alone together is the one time we’re not fighting.” You pointed out.

“You’re right.” He smiled shyly. “Funny.”

The silence that followed wasn’t awkward this time. You felt like you were talking to a completely different person than who Peter usually was. This version of Peter didn’t get under your skin or make you roll your eyes. This version was sweet and warmed you up from the cold.

“You kept my jacket.” Peter pointed out, making you flush in embarrassment.

“Oh, you can have it back.” You said and went to take it off.

“No, no. It’s okay. I want you to keep it.” He insisted and pulled it back around you. For extra measure, he zipped it up to your chin before patted both your arms. You smiled at the action and tilted your head down so the jacket would cover your chin.

“It looks better on you anyway.” He added without looking at you. You picked your head up and looked at him but he was busy fussing with the her of his shirt.

“Thanks. It’s really warm.” You said in a soft voice.

“Good. You need it. You’re always cold. And never prepared.”

“We can’t all be hot.” You replied. “Run hot, I mean.”

“Did you just call me hot?” Peter asked with a devious smile.

“Shut up.” You groaned. “You know what I meant.”

“I wish I had your problems. My hands are always sweating because I’m always so hot.” Peter said as he looked at his hands.

“Gross.” You grimaced. “Keep that to yourself.”

Peter looked sad as he didn’t realize you were joking. You found yourself feeling bad that you hurt his feelings despite all the times you intentionally tried to hurt them.

“I was just kidding. Let me feel.” You quickly assured him and took his hand. You ran your fingertips along his palm to see what he was talking about while Peter stayed perfectly still. You let out a soft laugh which sent chills up Peter’s spine.

“What do you think?” He asked in a quiet voice.

“It’s like touching a Swedish fish that’s been in a toddlers hand for too long.” You replied, making him laugh as well.

“Thank you. That was a really lovely description.”

“Seriously, how do you walk around with these things? Do girls ever complain when you hold hands?” You wondered as you slipped your hand into his. He instinctively rubbed his thumb on the back of your hand as the comfortable silence returned. You stayed like that for a moment, holding each others hand on the cold rooftop. The only warmth Peter had was from your hand so he wasn’t letting go anytime soon.

“Aha! Holding hands!” MJ suddenly exclaimed from behind you. And was standing in your room and pouting at you through your open window. You turned around and quickly dropped Peter’s hand.

“What? No we’re not.” You scoffed and stood up. Peter felt an overwhelming wave of disappointment wash over him as you left the roof to follow MJ. It hurt him that you were so quick to drop his hand and deny what was happening, and even quicker to leave him.

“Lesbian instincts.” MJ said as she tapped the side of her head.

“Shut up. We weren’t holding hands.” You insisted as you led her back towards the party.

“I may be a little drunk right now but I know what I saw.” She stated. “And you can’t deny something I saw with my own two eyes.”

“What did she see?” Ned asked as he came to your side.

“Nothing.” You said quickly. “She didn’t see anything.”

“Nothing except her and Peter practically having full on intercourse out on the roof.” MJ replied, making Ned gasp.

“Oh my God.” You groaned. “We were not doing that. We were just holding hands.”

“So you admit it!” She clapped her hands at the confession and nearly fell over.

“Girl, how are you so drunk already?” You asked her. “The party only started an hour ago.”

“Not the point.” MJ held up a hand. “Why were you and Peter holding hands? I thought you hated each other?”

“Peter doesn’t hate her.” Ned laughed like it was ridiculous. You were about to question what made him sound so sure when you realized you had left Peter out on the roof. You left MJ and Ned behind and quickly ran back to your room. The window was shut but Peter was nowhere to be found. Guilt building up in your stomach now, you went back out to the party and searched the crowd for him. When you didn’t see him anywhere, you went back to the kitchen to find Ned.

“Did Peter come in here? I can’t find him.” You asked him.

“You just missed him.” Ned answered. “He said he wasn’t feeling well so we wasn’t going to head back to our dorm.”

“He left?” You asked sadly. You looked at your front door before looking at MJ for help. She tapped the side of your head again and you knew what you had to do.

You ran out to the hall but didn’t see Peter anywhere. The hum of the elevator gave you an idea where he might be. You got to the elevator just in time to see the doors closing. Without thinking, you wedged yourself in between them to get them to open back up. They bounced off either side of your body but opened up enough for you to get inside. Peter caught you as you stumbled in and helped you stand up straight.

“Oh my God. Are you okay?” He asked as you held your aching body.

“I think I just went down a cup size.” You wheezed out.

“Why didn’t you just tell me to hold the door?” Peter asked through a laugh.

“There was no time.” You waved your hand. “I had to talk to you. You’re leaving?”

“Oh, yeah. I’m not much for parties.” He lied.

“Neither am I.” You told him as you stared into his eyes. He stared back and you could see a sadness in them that you knew was probably your fault.

“Before you go, I just wanted to apologize for before. I shouldn’t have run out on you like that.”

“It’s okay.” He shrugged. “We did look pretty incriminating.”

“We did.” You agreed. “And MJ was thrilled to see it. She has this dumb idea that we only pretend to hate each other to cover up the fact that we like each other.”

“She thinks that? Wow. That’s quite a theory.” Peter said as a blush painted his face a warm pink.

“Right? I don’t know where she gets it.” You shook your head and slid down the wall of the elevator. Peter decided to see the situation out and sat down beside you. Neither of you had pressed any buttons so the elevator stayed in place.

“Ned has a similar theory, actually.” Peter told you. “He thinks I’m totally in love with you and I don’t know how to express it outside of teasing you or making sure you’re warm.”

The silence that followed Peter’s statement was almost more incriminating than the hand holding. In your head, you replayed every time he had done something to keep you warm. Just the week before, Peter had wordlessly dropped a blanket beside you during a movie night at his dorm. Another time, he insisted you drank the tea he brought to class because he decided he didn’t like it anymore but didn’t want it to go to waste.

“Also quite a theory.” You said to break the silence. “But wait, if you run hot, how come your dorm has been perfectly toasty everytime MJ and I came over this winter?”

“It’s not usually like that.” He admitted. “But I take out the space heater when you and MJ come over because I know you get cold easily.”

“Oh. Well thank you.”

“For the teasing?”

“For keeping me warm.” You corrected. Peter flushed again and looked down at his lap.

“It’s all right. Winter will be over in a month. You won’t need me to keep you warm anymore. Then we’ll go back to being enemies.” He said without looking at you. You could hear a sadness in his voice and moved a little closer to him.

“You’re not my enemy. I just never really liked you.” You admitted.

“Yeah. I had a feeling. But how come?” He asked with genuine curiosity.

“Well, because I got the feeling that you never really like me either.” You shrugged. “Once our friend groups merged, you and I were just kinda there. We never really gelled like Ned and I or you and MJ.”

“Yeah, we didn’t.” He agreed. “The only times we would talk to each other is when we were fighting or something. That’s the only reason I kept teasing you.”

“Because you wanted to talk to me?” You smiled teasingly. Peter didn’t smile back and just stared into your eyes.

“I didn’t know how to talk to you.” He said quietly. “I never wanted us to fight. But if we didn’t, then we would never talk. And I really, really wanted to talk to you.”

The way you had felt about Peter just that morning had completely changed for the better. You were now hanging on his every word and desperate to hear what he had to say next. You turned a little to face him better and tilted your head to the side.

“What did you want to say?” You asked him. Peter’s eyes darted around your face and eventually landed on your lips.

“That I think you’re really cool. And really pretty. And really smart. Even though you never wear a-“

“Don’t say it.” You cut him off by leaning in the rest of the way and kissing him. Peter turned his body so that he could slip a hand in your hair to kiss you back. He took the chill right out of your bones as he kissed you as if he’d been waiting his entire like to do so. You pulled him closer by the collar of his shirt and kissed him until you ran out of breath. He had a dreamy smile on his face when you pulled away. You smiled shyly and sat back down on the elevator floor. Peter started to sniff the air suddenly and looked around.

“Do you smell basil?” He asked. Your smile dropped and you looked up to find the source of the smell. Sure enough, taped to the ceiling of the elevator was a makeshift mistletoe MJ had crafted out of basil and ribbon.

“Freaking lesbian instincts.” You muttered and stood up to snatch the basil down.

Tag list 🏷️ 🧥

@thebookwormlife @imanativeofswlondondahling

@whatareyouhidingpeter @takenbyheartstrings

@imyourliquor-youremypoison @andreasworlsboring101

@peterparkoure

@justcallmehitgirl @jackiehollanderr

@emmamarshmellow @unbelievableholland

@sovereignparker @every-marveler-ever @undiadeestos @eridanuswave

@solarxmoonchild @canyouevencauseicant

@quaksonhehe @lovelessdagger

@thesuitelifeofafangirl @marshxx @nooneinvitedfascistbarbie

@maybemona

@alexxcorona113 @lethal-wisdom

@pandaxnienke

 @officialsimppage @itsemohours

@tomholland85

@olixerwxxd @leilanixx

@whereismytelephone @so-very-asleep

@spideyspeaches @hihiweezing

@mathletemadison  

@dhtomholland @insomniac-nerd-posts-things @prancerrparkerr @blackwidowisthebest @imawhoreforu

@hallecarey1

@ciarahollands

@nellabella @boogywoogywoogy

[sugawhaaa]

JEONGIN SMUT HEADCANONS

Sex with Jeongin would...

[Dom ver]

Warnings//genre:: SMUT, oral, fingering, BDSM, spit play, sweat fetish, auralism, probably more I forget 😭

Pairing:: dom!jeongin x sub!fem!reader

A/N:: I accidentally used the same photo twice but...Shh I'm too lazy to re-edit the thingy. Also the tiles for each section are a little vague, it's just for the vibes

Skz masterlist:: 🎀

🎧::

Feel like::

☆-Jeongin is a sucker for deep and fast sex...like listen Jeongin can be impatient as hell and he just needs to get in there yk what I mean?

☆-I can see him being a bit of a tease with this like when he first goes inside he waits like a few second before just putting in all of his pent up lust into pounding into you.

☆-Jeongin has been getting big asf lately and I can see him kinda having a size kink, ofc in the sense that he's bigger than you, so doing things like lifting you by your hips or guiding your body by the waist is totally his thing.

☆-Messy kisses with a fuck ton of tongue while fucking you 😫

☆-he likes to put his hands around your face and neck area. Not deliberately choking but just asserting his control, you know? Also making a mess of your spit, dipping his fingers into your mouth and making you suck on them.

☆-some spanking every now and then ^^

☆-He loves to roam his hands all over your body, your tits, thighs, ass, tummy, back, wherever he has access to his hands are gently massaging.

☆-hes so gentle when taking your clothes off ggrrr but once in a blue moon he doesn't give a fuck, he needs you naked right fucking now.

☆-You'll find his fingers in your hair quite often. Sometimes it's to pull your head back and add just a twinge of pain or other times it's just to ground himself and pull your head closer to kiss you deeper.

☆-his fingers are so long and feel perfect against or in your body. He'd use this kind of method where he sorts through your folds with his fingers by gently gliding his finger down the seam of your pussy.

☆-his fingers also hit very deep inside you to the point he has to curl his fingers so he doesn't hurt you <3

☆-hes not very into anal or anything but he would like to put a vibrator in one of the two holes and then fuck the other 😩🤌

Sound like::

☆-this man loves dirty talk so much that he is just rambling and rambling the entire time in between moans and cries. He'd say all kinds of kinky things you wouldn't imagine him to say but...he does have a freaky side.

☆-"I love it when you make that pretty face" "stick your tongue out," "awh is my baby crying?" "Shh, it's okay, you can cum soon,"

☆-He really likes hearing the sounds of your bodies colliding in anyway, the sound of your tongues dancing, the bed creaking, his hips slapping against your ass, his tongue sorting through your folds, and the sounds you make when you suck him off 😩

☆-sometimes he'll play music in the background to set the mood as well, something lofi and more relaxing than sexual unless, of course, it's one of those real freaky nights.

☆-wet noises <3 when he fingers your wet pussy so deep and he can hear your arousal sorting through his fingers.

☆-hearing your moans is his favorite thing ever, he does anything and everything to make you moan louder and higher pitched.

☆-as I mentioned earlier he is a deep and fast kinda guy so you best believe the bedframe is often begging for mercy 😁 (imagine the headboard hitting against the wall all night while the members are just trying to sleep)

☆-whispering dirty words to you <3

☆-he curses a lot during sex, though he kind of feels bad about it. He wants to keep it romantic and passionate but when your walls hug him so tightly and your nails are digging into his back he can't hold back.

☆-"Oh fuck baby," "shit I'm close!" "God damn baby, you suck me so fucking good,"

☆-I can see Jeongin making a mix of noises between grunts, moans, growls, and so on, you get the point. He's very vocal though, loud and passionate, he doesn't hold back a thing.

☆-he isn't too into daddy type tropes but he does love calling you all kinds of things that make you feel small, like babygirl, darling, princess, etc. However he is into calling you mommy 👀 but that's for the next part

☆-basically to sum up this section, sex with Jeongin is loud and he loves embracing that fact.

Look like::

☆-hear me out...sweaty sex. I feel like he'd sweat quite easily when pounding you, sweat building along his hairline and down that sharp ass jawline 😩

☆-Sometimes I feel like people forget how sexy his body is, his thin waist that perfectly tapers to his sturdy hips and thick thighs, like come on.

☆-Most of the time you'll see Jeongin on top of you in the dark. The only light source being the night sky as he looms over you, his broad chest covering your body as his knees trap you between him 🥴

☆-backshots...also cumming onto your tummy as well 🤌 he does really like creampies but he loves messy sex even more. Usually in one session he'll cum outside and inside of you at least once each. A good balance.

☆-he loves loves loves making you squirt. That sexy face you make every time, the way your body moves on its own, the way you moan, it's everything to him and best of all, the mess you make, all for him.

☆-this may sound weird but I can see him smiling a fair bit during sex. After very explosive orgasms or when it just feels so good he has to smile with a little chuckle.

☆-bro would love shower sex, I firmly believe this, so seeing him all wet is a common occurrence during sex. His hair clinging to his face as water drops down his face and chest before pressing you against the wall to fuck you all over again.

Taste like::

☆-this man eats pussy so good, have you seen his tongue work on stage? He knows how to make a woman cum 5 times over in one sitting.

☆-I can see him being really sloppy when he eats you out, his saliva dripping down on his chin and all over your pussy.

☆-oral for him can be whatever really. Sometimes it's slow an sensual or romantic and sometimes it's more...erotic

☆-he loves hearing the sounds of his cock wedging down your throat though 😩 and he likes when you let him cum on your face or make cum bubbles etc, be messy.

☆-eating you out from behind >>> he'd get you to go on all fours and he'd come up behind you to make out with your cunt.

☆-he loves spreading your folds, thighs, or ass when eating you out, he needs to get right up in there.

☆-he's the type of guy to not finger when he eats you out, he doesn't need his fingers to make you cum, only his sweet tongue and lips.

[hitomisuzuya]

Suzu suzu suzu suzuuuuuu imagine double penetration with kabuscara tho😳 Can you imagine kabu being a moaning mess while scara guide him how to properly do a double penetration while reader just obediently take them both? And scara is shockingly soft with reader and kabu!! OH MY GOD MY THOUGHTS WENT WILD😳 If you may, can you write it? Pretty please?

scaramouche x fem!reader. kunikuzushi (kabukimono) x fem!reader. smut. threesome. double vaginal penetration. double creampie. soft scara.

i hope this turned out okay😳 it's been awhile since i have written double penetration.

kunikuzushi is a moaning mess behind you, whimpering as the feeling of your pussy stretching to accommodate his cock next to scaramouche's. "she--she's so tight," he stumbled over his words, his hands scrambling to find purchase on your shoulders to anchor himself.

"take it easy, kuni," scaramouche glanced at his brother in encouragement, "look at how obedient she is being," his fingers danced over your throbbing clit, increasing the need to bounce on his cock. "taking us both so well."

both brothers had been preparing you for quite sometime to take both of their cocks inside of you. scaramouche sat you on his cock first, pinching and rubbing your clit while you rode him. he'd instructed kunikuzushi to suck on your nipples, telling him that the wetter and more aroused you are, the easier it would be.

scaramouche moaned as your pussy clenched around his cock, slowly thrusting up into you. "she's clenching just from hearing me mention having both our cocks stuffing her full," his fingers pinching your clit tore a cry of pleasure from your throat.

kunikuzushi's fingers dug possessively into your shoulders, his cock pulsing as he pushed deeper inside of you. "easy now," scaramouche said, increasing his rubs on your clit, "too fast at first and you'll hurt her," you saw stars feeling kunikuzushi bottom out next to scaramouche's cock.

"i..i'm fine," you reassured, "feels good," was about all you could manage. your pussy had never felt so full, both cocks snuggly rubbing against every sensitive inch of your walls.

"thrust after i do," scaramouche instructed, tending to your clit for a few moments more before taking your hand and putting it on your clit. he helped kunikuzushi set a good, steady rhythm. his soft temperament was utterly surprising to you. "that's a good girl, sucking us both in like this."

you moan louder hearing scaramouche's praise, both cocks squelching in and out of you, kissing into your sweet spot a few moments after the other. because of the position you are in, there was little room for you to do anything but take it while you shamelessly moaned. your fingers skated over your throbbing clit, pleasure burning through you as you submissively relaxed for them.

the pleasure was fast overwhelming you. your fingernails clawed at scaramouche's chest the tighter your orgasm built up. your whole body trembled in bliss, drool dripping from the corner of your mouth onto scaramouche's chest.

"fuck, i think she is going to cum," kunikuzushi could feel it, your pussy was so tight. he couldn't stop the whimpers spilling unbidden from his throat as he increased his pace.

scaramouche matched kunikuzushi's pace, his own cock throbbing almost uncontrollably against kunikuzushi's. he wasn't surprised you are already on the verge of cumming, thinking your poor little body would be overwhelmed before too long. "cum, pretty. cum on both our cocks," he hissed in momentary dominance, moving your hand away from your clit to help you along.

that was all it took to make you come undone, their cocks kissing into your sweet spot tore your orgasm out of you, squirting while you shook from the intensity of your orgasm. you are barely able to keep yourself from collapsing onto scaramouche's chest while their cock continued to fuck into you.

kunikuzushi's cock roped cum inside of you first, sloppily thrusting inside you as he rode out his high. you mewl in bliss, whimpering in slight overstimulation as his cum oozed out around his cock. scaramouche's cum soon followed, adding to the intense experience of taking them both at once.

[pandapetals]

Gift Wrapped

A RETROSABERS X PANDAPETALS DOUBLE FEATURE

Logan got you a special gift this Christmas...himself.

logan howlett x fem!gf reader - established relationship, christmas vibes, steamy, implied smut, fluff, teasing banter, sweetheart/darling/gorgeous pet names, i imagined origins logan, kissing, fingering, orgasm withholding, slight praising, good girl used once, begging

a/n: collab with the amazing @retrosabers, thank you so much for asking me to do this. check out their post. it's way better than mine tbh. the theme is “unwrapping”. why not unwrap logan since he wasn't under my tree.

divider credit: @bernardsbendystraws

“Are your eyes closed, sweetheart?” Logan’s voice was low and a little shaky, the kind of tone that made you both suspicious and intrigued. You sat cross-legged on the sofa, the warmth of the fireplace curling through the air, the soft glow of the Christmas tree lights flickering red and gold behind your closed lids.

“Yes,” you said, drawing out the word with mock caution. “Though I’m starting to think I should be worried. What did you do?” A teasing laugh slipped from your lips, the kind of laugh that had gotten Logan into trouble—and out of it—more times than he could count.

Logan exhaled, rolling his eyes even though you couldn’t see him. He raked a hand through his messy hair, the sound of crinkling wrapping paper accompanying his nervous shuffle. His bare feet padded softly against the wooden floor as he exited the bedroom. “What am I doing?” he muttered under his breath. His plan had seemed funny—brilliant, even—when it had first popped into his head. Now, standing half-naked in the living room, most of his body swaddled in sloppily taped wrapping paper, he wasn’t so sure.

“Well?” you prompted, your fingers drumming lightly against your knees. The slight quiver in your voice wasn’t exactly fear, but curiosity laced with a hint of concern. “Logan? Why are you so quiet? You’re starting to freak me out.”

Logan paused mid-step, the flush creeping up his neck to his cheeks. He was suddenly very aware of how ridiculous he looked—strips of shiny red wrapping paper crisscrossed over his chest, held together by haphazard loops of tape, his plaid boxers peeking out from underneath like the world’s laziest Christmas outfit. His abs were more on display than he’d planned, and let’s not even get started on the oversized gold bow stuck to his hip.

“Okay, uh...maybe this was a bad idea,” Logan mumbled, taking a half-step back toward the bedroom. He tugged at the edge of the paper, wincing as it tore slightly. “You know what, forget it. I—”

“Logan,” you interrupted your tone a mix of exasperation and amusement. “What are you doing? You sound...weird.”

He froze. His heart thudded in his chest as you cracked one eye open, just a sliver at first, and then both flew wide. You were silent for a moment, your mouth slightly ajar as your gaze swept over him, taking in the sight of your six-foot-tall boyfriend wrapped like a naughty Christmas present.

“...Oh my god,” you whispered, your voice catching on a laugh you couldn’t hold back. Your hands flew to your mouth as your eyes sparkled, flickering between disbelief and glee. “Logan, what—what are you—” You broke off into full-blown laughter, clutching your stomach as you tried to catch your breath.

Logan groaned, his cheeks burning hotter than the fireplace behind you. “Yeah, yeah, laugh it up,” he muttered, crossing his arms—or trying to as the stiff wrapping paper crinkled and refused to cooperate. “This is the last time I try to be creative.”

You wiped a tear from your eye, the laughter dying into soft giggles. “No, no, stop, it’s just—oh my god, Logan, are you...wrapped in wrapping paper?”

“Obviously.” He arched a brow, his lips twitching like he wanted to be annoyed but couldn’t quite manage it. “You said you wanted a surprise, so...ta-da. Surprise.”

You tilted your head, your laughter fading as you let your gaze linger on him. The glow of the tree lights danced across his skin, catching on the sharp lines of his jaw and the faint flush dusting his chest. You bit your lip, a slow grin spreading across your face. “You know,” you said, your voice taking on a sultry edge, “this is probably the best gift I’ve ever gotten. Hands down.”

Logan perked up, his confidence flickering back to life as he caught the gleam in your eye. “Yeah?” He smirked, taking a step closer, his voice dropping an octave. “You like what you see, gorgeous?”

You leaned back against the sofa, your lips curling playfully as your gaze wandered over him again, lingering just enough to make his pulse spike. “Well,” you said thoughtfully, tapping a finger against your chin, “the bow’s a little crooked. And the tape job? Honestly, it’s a mess.”

Logan rolled his eyes but couldn’t hold back his laugh. “Really? That’s your takeaway?”

“But,” you continued, your tone softening as you met his eyes, “it’s still...pretty perfect.”

Logan grinned, stepping closer until he stood right before you, his knees brushing yours. “Damn right, it is.” He leaned down, his voice dropping to a murmur as he added, “But I think the best part is unwrapping me. Don’t you?”

You felt your cheeks heat, your breath hitching slightly as his hand brushed your knee, the heat of his skin seeping through your flannel pajamas. “I don’t know,” you teased, your voice dipping low. “I might just keep you wrapped up like this. You’d make a great centerpiece.”

Logan chuckled, shaking his head as he leaned in closer, his lips grazing your ear. “Good luck with that,” he whispered, his breath warm against your skin. “Because this gift has plans, darlin’. And they don’t involve staying wrapped.”

Your pulse quickened, a shiver rolling down your spine as his fingers trailed lightly over your knee. “Oh yeah?” you murmured, tilting your head to meet his gaze. “Guess we’ll see who’s really in charge of this gift, won’t we?”

Logan’s smirk widened, his eyes darkening with challenge. “I guess we will,” he said, his lips brushing yours as his hand slipped to your waist.

You tugged him closer to you, the paper giving away a bit with a satisfying rip that echoed through the cozy living room. Logan froze for a second, his eyes widening in mock horror as he glanced at the ruined wrapping. “Oh no,” he deadpanned, his lips twitching. “You’ve destroyed my masterpiece.”

You grinned up at him, your teeth catching your bottom lip as your fingers brushed the newly exposed skin at his hip. His gaze darkened as he leaned in, his hands tightening on your waist as his lips finally claimed yours. The kiss was soft before you slid your fingers through his hair deepening it.

Logan’s fingers slid under your flannel top, brushing over the bare skin of your waist, and you gasped against his mouth as warmth bloomed in your chest—and core. 

“Hmm,” you murmured, tilting your head as though inspecting a piece of art. “You know, Logan, I think you’re right. The wrapping paper is kind of in the way.” Your hands slid to his chest, fingers grazing the exposed skin there, and you grinned as you added, “I think it’s time to finish unwrapping my present.”

Logan let out a low laugh, his hands tightening on your hips as he pulled you closer, his lips brushing the corner of your mouth. “Don’t let me stop you, darlin’. But just so you know...” His teeth grazed your earlobe.“Once you’re done unwrapping, I’m going to make sure you know exactly how good of a gift I am.”

Your cheeks burned, heat pooling in every inch of your body as his words sank in. The tension between you crackled like the lights on the tree. The rest of the world faded away—the cozy living room, the fireplace, the half-empty mugs of cocoa on the table. All that mattered was Logan, his hands on you, his lips teasing yours, and the delicious anticipation thrumming between you like a pulse.

You leaned in close, your breath warm against his ear, your smile curling into something wicked. “Merry Christmas to me, indeed,” you whispered, your voice low and teasing.

Logan barely had time to smirk before the last shred of wrapping paper hit the floor, pooling around his feet in a heap of crumpled red and gold. Now there was nothing left between you but the glow of the tree lights and the thin barrier of his plaid boxers, clinging low on his hips.

His hand slid to your waist, tugging you forward with an easy, practiced confidence. “Well,” he drawled, his voice rich and dripping with amusement, “I’d say this makes me the best damn gift you’ve ever unwrapped.” His grin turned devilish as his fingers teased the edge of your pajama top. “And if I’m wrong… you’re going to have a hell of a time convincing me otherwise.”

You laughed, the sound vibrating through the small living room. “Oh, don’t worry. I have no complaints so far,” you teased, trailing a finger lightly down the hard plane of his chest, the heat of his skin seeping into your touch. “But I am starting to wonder how much more unwrapping there is to do…”

Logan arched a brow, the glint in his eye a perfect match for your mischievous grin. “Careful, sweetheart,” he murmured, his voice dipping to a near growl. “You might end up on Santa’s naughty list for saying things like that.”

Your laughter turned breathy as he leaned in, his lips brushing yours in a kiss that was slow at first—just enough to tease, to make you ache for more. But before you could lose yourself completely, he pulled back, his gaze locking with yours as his hands slid to your waist. With a single, fluid motion, he guided you back against the couch, the plush cushions cradling you as he followed, his body hovering just above yours.

“You’re not getting away that easily,” you murmured, catching his wrist before he could settle his weight. Your fingers curled around his forearm as you shifted beneath him, pulling him closer until the heat of his skin pressed firmly against you. “If you’re the gift, Logan, I intend to enjoy every second of unwrapping you.”

He let out a low laugh, the sound rumbling through his chest as he braced himself above you. “Oh, I’m counting on it,” he said, his voice rough with promise. Then, his lips were on yours again, harder this time, deeper, the kiss unraveling the last threads of restraint between you.

You sighed into him, your fingers sliding up to tangle in his hair, the soft strands curling around your touch as his hands skimmed over your sides. The flannel fabric of your pajama shirt bunched under his palms as he tugged at the hem, his touch leaving a trail of heat in its wake. His lips broke from yours, only to find the sensitive skin of your neck, and you let your head fall back, giving him better access as he trailed slow, deliberate kisses down the column of your throat.

“Logan,” you murmured, your voice hitching slightly when his teeth grazed your pulse point. He hummed against your skin in response, the sound vibrating through you and setting your nerves alight.

Your hands moved instinctively, tugging at the hem of your shirt, but Logan beat you to it, his fingers sliding underneath the fabric to help you peel it off. The cool air hit your skin for only a moment before his mouth returned, warm and demanding, as he kissed his way across your collarbone. His hands followed, mapping every curve, every line as if he couldn’t get enough of touching you.

“Hmm,” Logan murmured against your skin, his lips brushing just below your ear, sending a delicious shiver racing down your spine. “I have to say, sweetheart…” His voice was low, teasing, but there was a raw edge to it now, a hunger that made your stomach tighten. “You look better out of flannel than in it.”

A soft laugh escaped you as your fingers drifted over the taut muscles of Logan’s back. His skin was warm beneath your touch, flexing ever so slightly under your fingertips as he pressed his body firmly against yours. The heat between you was electric, crackling like the embers in the fireplace, and it only intensified when his lips found their way lower, tracing a slow, deliberate path down your chest.

Your breathing hitched as he paused just above the waistband of your flannel pants, his mouth hovering, his breath ghosting over the sensitive skin. His warm and steady hands rested on either side of your hips, his thumbs teasing light, maddening circles against your skin.

“Logan…” Your voice was barely above a whisper, but its plea was unmistakable. You tilted your head against the cushions, your eyes fluttering closed as a soft whimper escaped your lips. “Please. Keep going.”

That was all it took. Logan let out a low, gravelly moan that sent a shiver racing through you. His lips curled into a smirk against your skin, and you felt the vibration of his chuckle as he murmured, “You’re so pretty when you beg.”

The words sent a flush of heat through you, and when you opened your eyes, his gaze was locked on yours, dark and hooded. Slowly, deliberately, he dragged his teeth lightly over the sensitive skin just above the waistband of your pants, making your whole body tense in response.

Your breath caught as his fingers dipped beneath the fabric, his touch teasing and confident. He moved with purpose, and in one smooth motion, he hooked his thumbs into the waistband and slid the flannel down, baring you to him inch by excruciating inch. The fabric pooled at your ankles, forgotten, as his eyes raked over you with an intensity that made your pulse quicken.

“Perfect,” he murmured, his voice husky and filled with reverence, as though the sight of you left him completely undone. His hands trailed back up your thighs, the roughness of his palms a delicious contrast to the softness of your skin, and you arched into his touch, your body instinctively seeking more.

The room felt smaller now, the glow of the Christmas tree casting a warm, intimate light over the two of you. Logan leaned forward, his lips brushing your knee, then your thigh, his kisses slow and deliberate, each one igniting a new spark of heat beneath your skin. He was taking his time, savoring you.

“I need you,” you breathed, your voice trembling as you threaded your fingers through his hair, tugging lightly. He looked up at you through his lashes, his expression equal parts mischief and raw hunger. “Please…”

He smirked, his hands tightening slightly on your thighs as he murmured, “Patience, gorgeous. Good things come to those who wait.” But his teasing tone was betrayed by the way his breath was coming faster now, his self-control fraying at the edges.

Logan’s lips traveled lower, leaving a trail of heat across your skin as he pressed slow, open-mouthed kisses along your collarbone, then down to the swell of your chest. Each touch of his lips sent tiny shockwaves rippling through you, your breaths coming in shallow, uneven bursts. His hands followed the curve of your body, rough yet deliberate, their slow descent sparking a fire that bloomed deep in your core.

When his hand slipped between your thighs, your whole body tensed, your breath catching in your throat. His palm was warm, and steady, as it rested there for a teasing moment, his thumb tracing lazy circles over the sensitive skin, just enough to make you squirm beneath him.

The vibration sent shivers skittering through you. Your fingers curled into the muscles of his shoulders as his lips moved again, dipping lower and brushing just above where your nipple was. His kisses were unhurried and deliberate, as though he were memorizing your shape and taste.

And then, finally, his fingers moved. A gasp slipped from you as he began to explore, his touch achingly slow, maddeningly gentle. He stroked through your folds with deliberate precision, testing, teasing, his movements guided by the quiet, involuntary sounds spilling from your lips. You could feel the smile forming against your skin as he paused, his breath hot and uneven as it fanned over your chest.

“You’re already so ready for me,” he murmured, his voice husky, the rough edge of his words sending another jolt of heat racing through you. His fingers worked in rhythm now, the pressure of his touch steadily building, coaxing soft, breathy whimpers from your throat.

You arched against him, your hands tangling in his hair, tugging lightly in a way that made him groan against your skin. “Logan…it feels so good,” you breathed, your voice trembling, your body aching for more.

He pulled back just enough to look at you, his dark, half-lidded gaze locking with yours. The intensity in his eyes left you breathless, your heart thundering in your chest. “I love the way you say my name like that,” he murmured, his lips curving into a wicked grin. “Like you can’t help yourself.”

You shivered under his touch, his words unraveling something deep inside you, and you met his gaze with your own, your lips parting to reply—but then his fingers dipped just right, stealing the breath from your lungs and leaving you gasping instead.

Logan chuckled softly, the sound low and indulgent as he leaned in to press his lips against yours. The kiss was slow at first, teasing, a perfect match for the rhythm of his touch, but it quickly deepened as the tension between you snapped like a taut wire. He kissed you like he wanted to consume you, to devour every inch of you, and you found yourself clinging to him, your fingers sliding from his hair to the firm muscles of his back as he pressed closer.

“Sweetheart,” he murmured against your lips, his voice rough, almost reverent. “You’re driving me crazy.”

His fingers moved again, coaxing another broken whimper from your throat, and his mouth found its way back to your neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin there in a way that made your whole body arch into him. The heat between you was nearly unbearable now, a steady hum of desire that blurred the edges of the world around you, leaving only the two of you tangled together, breathless and wanting.

And then Logan paused, his lips brushing your ear, his breath warm and heavy as he whispered, “Tell me what you want.” His voice was teasing, almost smug, but there was an edge of need beneath it, a rawness that mirrored the ache building in your chest.

Your lips parted, and when you spoke, your voice trembled, soft but sure. “You, Logan. I just want you.”

His growl rumbled low in his chest, the sound alone sending a thrill spiraling through you. A delicious shiver coursed down your spine as Logan’s mouth claimed yours again, his kiss demanding and possessive, as though he couldn’t get enough. The weight of his body pressed you into the cushions even as his touch had you floating somewhere far beyond reason.

“Hold it,” he murmured against your lips, his voice low and edged with a command that made your pulse stutter. His fingers didn’t stop their maddening rhythm between your thighs, every slow, deliberate stroke sending heat pooling low in your belly. His breath was hot, uneven as it brushed your cheek, but his control over you—and himself—was unnervingly steady. “Not yet. Don’t you dare cum until I say.”

You barely managed a breathless laugh, your head tipping back as his lips left yours to trail down your jaw, the scrape of his teeth against your skin making your whole body tense beneath him. “I thought you were my gift,” you managed to say, your voice breaking on a soft moan as he worked his fingers with excruciating precision. “Shouldn’t I have control over when I get to…”

Logan paused for a fraction of a second as the words died in your throat. He pulled back just enough to meet your gaze. His dark eyes were burning with hunger and amusement, and the corner of his mouth curled into a smirk. “Oh, sweetheart,” he drawled, his voice deep and slow. “You do have control… but only if I give it to you.”

The words sent a rush of heat cascading through you, leaving you trembling in his arms. His lips dipped lower, brushing the curve of your throat, and he chuckled softly when your breath hitched. “But if you want me to stop,” he murmured, his voice a teasing whisper as his fingers slowed their pace, barely brushing over your most sensitive spot, “just say the word.”

“Logan…” you gasped, your nails digging lightly into his shoulders as your hips shifted instinctively beneath him, desperate for more. You felt his grin against your skin, wicked and far too self-satisfied, and it only made you want to wipe it off his face—or make him lose that careful control he clung to so tightly.

“You’re so responsive,” he murmured as his lips grazed the hollow of your throat. “Every little sound you make, every little shiver…” His fingers pressed just right, and your soft cry was answer enough to him. “It’s like your body was made for me.”

The tension in your body built higher and higher, every nerve alight, your skin hypersensitive to every small movement of his hand, every press of his lips. You could feel the ache growing, the edge creeping closer, and your breaths came faster, sharper, as the coil inside you tightened to the breaking point.

“Logan, I can’t���” Your voice broke, your hands sliding from his shoulders to his hair, gripping tight as you struggled to hold back. He lifted his head, his expression dark and heated as he watched you come undone beneath him.

“Yes, you can,” he said softly, his voice like velvet, soothing and commanding all at once. His lips brushed your ear, his breath warm and teasing as he added, “You’re going to hold it for me, sweetheart. You’re going to let me take you exactly where I want you to go.”

A frustrated whimper escaped you, your back arching beneath him, and his low chuckle made your skin flush even hotter. He pressed a kiss to the corner of your mouth, a touch so gentle it was almost infuriating, and whispered, “Because when I finally let you, it’s going to feel so damn good, you won’t even remember your name.”

You trembled beneath him, his words unraveling what little control you had left. The tension between you was electric, the air thick with heat and want, and you could do nothing but hold on to him, your breaths coming in shallow, ragged bursts as his touch pushed you closer and closer to the edge.

“Logan, please,” you gasped, your voice breaking on his name, your body trembling with the effort of restraint.

He smiled against your skin, his lips brushing just below your ear. “Good girl,” he murmured, his tone dripping with praise, his touch steady and relentless. “Just a little longer.”

Every nerve in your body felt like it was on fire, the ache between your thighs growing unbearable as he teased you with maddening precision. You didn’t know how much longer you could hold on, but you trusted him and surrendered completely to the intoxicating rhythm he set.

Just when you thought you couldn’t take another second, just when you were about to beg again, his fingers slowed, his lips brushing yours in a kiss so soft that it left you breathless.

“Now,” he whispered against your lips, his voice low and rough, his fingers pressing just right. “Let go for me, sweetheart.”

The world blurred as his words shattered the last of your restraint, your body unraveling beneath him in a rush of heat and pleasure so intense it left you gasping. Logan held you through it, his hand never faltering, his lips peppering soft kisses across your skin as you rode out every wave, your body trembling in his arms.

When the storm finally began to subside, you melted into him, boneless and dazed, your breaths coming in soft, uneven gasps. Logan’s hands moved gently now, smoothing over your thighs and waist as though grounding you, his touch still laced with reverence and care.

“Merry Christmas to me,” he murmured with a satisfied grin, his lips brushing your temple.

You let out a breathless laugh, your fingers sliding into his hair as you pulled him into a slow, lingering kiss. “You’re so full of yourself,” you teased, your voice soft and playful despite your exhaustion.

Logan smirked, his hands tightening gently on your hips as he leaned down to murmur against your lips, “Can you blame me, sweetheart? You look at me like I’m the only thing that matters.”

[m3lodyxo]

Imagine if you were there durring the riot and got arrested before you could see Silco again. For years you're in Stillwater, thinking about your friends, not even knowing most of them are dead.

You're finally let out and begin to rebuild your life when you get kidnapped and in some room strapped to a chair.

Then you suddenly hear a voice and just freeze.

You guys are left alone in the room and Silco doesn't even know what to do cause you're just standing there, not saying anything.

---------------------------------------------------

Silco: Stop being so stoic {name}

You, approaching him: ...

Silco: Go on, shout, scream, SAY SOMETHING FOR JANNA'S SAKE

You cup his face and smile with tears in your eyes: You're as beautiful as the day I lost you.

Silco: ....

And he just breaks down in your arms because he thought you were gone forever. No one had told him you were in that damned prison. He would've done something to get you out sooner. He thought you were dead like all the rest. That you left him alone after promising him you'd never leave his side. All these years he believed you betrayed him, just like Vander. Leaving him to fend for himself. And here you are now, looking at him as if he hung the stars.

[daenysx]

im a total sucker for sleepy marauders, so here's my idea if you want to write it:

personally, i think sirius tries very hard to not appear, be and feel vulnerable even with the people he loves, but when he's sleepy that façade drops almost completely. could you write gn reader babying sirius even if he tries to refuse the love he's receiving? i imagine him secretly enjoying all the attention and care his lover is giving to him, feeling whole for a second.

i don't know if you already wrote something like this, but feel free to dismiss it if you have!

thank u sm xx.

hi, gorgeous, thank you!! i hope you enjoy

sirius black x gn!reader, fluff <33

"poor baby." you whisper with the softest voice. sirius' eyes are blissfully closed. "you've been so tired, haven't you?"

he's always been pretty, but even more so when he's all melting under covers. he hums quietly, starved for every piece of affection you'll offer. you settle down in bed to reach him properly.

"you know what i think sometimes?" he talks with a deep voice.

"what?" you ask him as you cup his cheek. your hand is warm and sirius forgets everything.

"doesn't matter." he manages to say.

it's not like he tries to hide anything from you, but he never thought he'd be good at being loved. your thumb draws a half moon on his sharp cheekbone. his body moves closer to yours.

"it's okay." you tell him. "maybe you should sleep."

"yeah." he says. your hand is- oh, it's so nice to be touched like this. you hold the back of his neck gently as you massage his scalp and he feels the tension on his shoulders easing off. "i will."

he looks like he'll fall asleep quicker if you keep drawing shapes on his face. you want to keep loving on him, the affection grows until it hurts your chest. he's so gorgeous, it's not fair. he looks like an angel with his face and his deep black hair. the soft locks are spread on the pillow, your other hand goes to fix them. they don't fall on his eyes after you move your fingers.

"you are so pretty." you whisper. your lips feel like silk against his forehead. sirius rubs his nose to pillow, suddenly feeling bare in front of you.

"stop." he tells you, meaning he wants you to keep going.

sometimes he's having fun with the compliments he gets, he's confident as hell, but the minutes he spends under the covers with you feel different. he's all soaked up in a type of love he doesn't know how to handle.

"that's true." you smile. "you are so beautiful. you're like a piece of art, sometimes i get jealous over other people who get to admire you beside me."

"oh my god, please." he's definitely hiding now. he's so sleepy. "how can you- you are the pretty one here, in case you don't notice."

you lean in to kiss his cheek. your lips leave a faint sound behind. sirius tilts his head back to let you reach him better, you kiss his other cheek. every tiny spot on his face begs to be kissed. he pouts softly, you press your lips to his frown.

his arm finds your waist. "let me sleep, you evil." he begs. "you're playing with my heart rhytm."

"oh, no." you play along.

you continue your kisses on his neck. sirius doesn't know how to calm his body. he has to surrender when you kiss the spot below his ear. you offer him a lovesick smile, and he can feel the shape of your curled lips on his skin.

[littleslaywrites]

joy to the world | spencer reid x bau!reader

summary: you surprise spencer with big news on christmas morning

word count: 1.1k

cw: fluff, pregnancy, mentions of birth control, JJ heavily featured (no jeid mentions)

The presents had all been opened, and you were sitting on the couch with Spencer in front of the fireplace. Crackles from the fire mixed with the sound of the radio playing Christmas music. You were dipping cookies you’d made the night before in a shared glass of milk. His arm is wrapped around your waist and your head is on his shoulder. 

You'd been anxious all day, waiting for the right time to give him his last gift. You knew he’d be excited, but you also knew it’d change your whole lives. 

It had been just over a week since you’d found out you were pregnant. JJ was the first to know, being the one who suggested it as a possibility. You’d been nauseous for a week, hardly having the appetite for anything. Any strong smell made it worse. JJ has suspected something was up, but what made her voice it to you was when you mentioned your period was late. It was a passing comment, but she pulled you aside, mid-case, insisting that you take a test. 

“Could you be pregnant?” she asked, whispering as to not alert the others in the local police office you were set up in. 

“I mean, I guess,” you said, trying to remember if you had missed a pill recently. You realized that, with your frequent time zone changes, you had probably mixed up times at some point. “Oh god, yeah, I could be.”

“What are you thinking?” JJ asked, sensing your nervousness. 

You had talked about having kids with Spencer, so you were sure he’d be excited, but you didn’t expect it to happen so soon. 

“I’m thinking a lot of things,” you respond. She grabs one of your hands, subtle enough to not draw attention. 

“We can find a drugstore tonight and get a test for you,” she says as the two of you are called back into the conference room. 

That night, you two gathered in your hotel room. The test sits face down on the bathroom counter, phone timer counting down. When the alarm goes off, you don’t move from where you’re sitting side-by-side on the floor. 

“Turn it over,” you tell JJ.

“Me?” she says. The two of you go back and forth on who has to turn it over, giggling like school girls. Your play argument ends with the decision that you’ll flip it together. 

“What do you want it to say?” she asks when both of you are standing in front of the test. 

“I think…” you hesitate for a second, considering the two possibilities. “I think I want it to be positive.”

You imagine your life with Spencer as a family, creating a new human that’s half him, half you. 

The two of you count down from 3, flipping it over, revealing the tiny words. 

Pregnant

“Oh my god,” you say, glancing over at JJ.

“Oh my god!” she says, grabbing you by the arms. “You’re going to be a mom!” She’s jumping up and down, almost more excited than you are. You’re standing there in shock as she pulls you into a bear hug.

Pulling back, she asks “How are you going to tell Spencer?”

That’s how you two came up with the idea to tell him on Christmas. JJ knew just as well as you did that Spencer would be overjoyed. You could hardly keep the secret from him, wanting to tell everyone you knew. Penelope knew something was up, catching onto the looks JJ gave you. It was torture not being able to tell her, wanting Spencer to find out before the rest of your team. It was almost impossible to have any secrets in an office full of profilers. 

“I’ve got something else for you,” you say as Spencer is cuddling you with the cookie tin on top of his legs. 

“What is it?” he says. 

You stand up, getting the small gift bag you had hidden inside your closet. “So, you know how you like to journal?”

“Uh-huh.”

“I got you one that you’ll be needing soon.”

You hand him the gift, sitting back down as your heart pounds inside your chest. 

He opens it, revealing a small book that says “First Time Dad’s Journal” on the front. 

You try to read Spencer’s eyes, shuffling through a range of emotions. “Are you…” he trails off, meeting your eyes. 

“Yeah,” you say smiling. He grabs your hands in disbelief. 

“Are you serious?” he says, borderline giddy.

“Completely serious.”

He pulls you close, holding you tight. When he pulls away, you see light tears brimming in his eyes. “This is the best gift I’ve ever gotten.” He lightly kisses you, smiles breaking across both your faces. 

“Who knows?” he asks, keeping your hands locked inside his. 

“Just JJ. She was there when I found out, but I wanted you to know before everyone else.”

Spencer can’t stop smiling. His eyes are studying you, seeing you in a whole new way. “When will we tell them?”

“I guess we have to tell Hotch pretty soon. Once we tell Penelope, I’m sure everyone else will find out.” You both giggle, imagining how she’ll react. 

The moment settles, both of you slipping into the quiet of the evening. You find a place again at his side, him holding you even closer than before. 

“I want to be a good dad for you,” he says quietly, “for you both.”

“I know you will.” There’s no doubt in your mind. You’ve seen him with kids before. “You being worried shows that you care.”

He hums, hand finding your stomach. “I just don’t want to be like my father,” he says, almost whispering. 

“You won’t. You’re already nothing like him.” One of your hands goes to his hair, playing with it. You wish there was a way to make him know how perfect he’ll be as a father. He’ll know when the baby gets here, you think. 

Silence overtakes you, the both of you imagining your new future. You’d always planned on having children, but it felt more real than ever before. You can almost picture another set of legs running around the apartment. 

Your phone rings, breaking through the quiet. You answer it, Hotch on the other end apologizing for interrupting your holiday to inform you that you have a case. 

Getting ready to go, Spencer stops you in front of the bathroom mirror by hugging you from behind. 

“Please don’t get all overprotective,” you say.

“You know I can’t promise that.”

Spencer pulls you into one last kiss before you head to the office.

author's note: merry christmas to all of you that celebrate!

[polkadotpenguin16]

Subtle Hints

Fills the Only 1 Bed square for @storiesofsvu's Holiday Bingo 2024

Pairing: Sonny Carisi x female reader

Tags: smut (that might be a strong word for this—smut lite?)

Word count: 2K

Beta'd by: @misscharlielulu + @escapingrealtiylovinginsanity

A/N: my Christmas present to you – my first attempt dipping my toes into smut! I’m very much a beginner writing in this genre, and want to improve my skills so I can do my saucy ideas justice. So please bear with me as I’m learning <3

Also posted on AO3

Today was your first holiday spent with Sonny’s family. While you’d already met his parents and sisters individually, this was your first time fully immersed in the Carisi clan. Sonny wasn’t worried about it, but you were irrationally concerned about making a good impression. It was important to you that they thought you were a good match for Sonny. 

His sisters seemed to like you, and his nieces and nephews thought you were pretty cool. But you had a hard time getting a read on his mother. She was cordial, smiling whenever you chatted. But her demeanor seemed guarded, if not a little cold. Definitely not the enthusiasm you’d hoped for. But you were dating her one and only son, her baby boy, so her trepidation was not unexpected.

It was getting dark outside, and the snow was falling much harder than forecasted. Because of the late hour and the unfavorable weather, Sonny’s parents offered to let everyone stay at their house for the night. When Mrs. Carisi divvied up the rooms amongst all the guests, somehow, the only one left for you and Sonny was Gina and Bella’s childhood bedroom. Which you wouldn’t have minded, except for one thing…

Gina and Bella had shared bunk beds.

Mrs. Carisi tried to play innocent. “What do you want me to do? It’s the only bed left. You wanna sleep in the closet?” But you strongly suspected this was her not so subtle way of hinting that she didn’t want any out-of-wedlock shenanigans happening under her roof.

You and Sonny entered the bedroom, dumbfounded how you found yourself in this situation. The walls were covered in pastel floral wallpaper that reminded you of the 80s. Next to the closet sat a well-worn oak dresser with scuffs along the side—probably from having the closet door slammed into it. The window was adorned with pink striped curtains that appeared to have been homemade, perhaps by Mrs. Carisi. And at the back of the room stood the dreaded set of bunk beds. 

The closer you got, the smaller the beds seemed. 

“You have got to be kidding me.” Sonny rubbed the back of his neck nervously. He’d like to say he was surprised, but this honestly wasn’t even the craziest of his mother’s antics. “I, uh, I could go talk to Ma…” he trailed off as he glanced at you hesitantly, looking for you to tell him what to do next.

You thought about it for a split second, but the defeated look on his face told you that Sonny didn’t want to fight with his mom tonight. “No, it’s fine. It’s just for one night, anyways.” As utterly silly as this was, you were still worried about making a good impression with his mother. You thought there was the slightest chance you’d earn her respect if you went along with this madness.

Relief washed over Sonny’s face. He made a mental note to thank God at Mass tomorrow for blessing him with such an understanding girlfriend. He looked back at the bunk beds, reminded of the uncomfortable night ahead of him. With a deep sigh, he accepted his fate. “Okay, roomie, which bunk do you want?”

“Which would you be more comfortable in?” You wanted to be mindful of his size. You weren’t necessarily tiny, but certainly smaller than him.

His eyes darted between you and the beds before gesturing to his lengthy frame. “Babe, it’s not gonna make a difference.”

“Well…” A wicked smirk crept onto your lips. “I’ve never slept in a bunk bed before.” You mischievously climbed up the ladder to claim the top bunk as yours.

Sonny rolled his eyes, but he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t charmed by your childish spirit. “Alright, doll, you can be on top tonight.” You glared at his immature joke, but desperately tried to suppress the warmth rising in your cheeks. “Why don’t you get down from there so we can get ready for bed?”

Sonny stripped down to his boxers and undershirt, offering you his dress shirt to sleep in. He had worn his blue and white polka dot one, which was your favorite on him. You shamelessly held the shirt to your face. Breathing in its musky scent, enjoying the warmth still clinging to the fabric.

While getting ready, you turned to see Sonny struggling as he tried to squish himself into the bedframe. He regretted he hadn’t taken you up on that offer to join your yoga class. He bonked his head against the wall and jammed his knee into the bedpost. Too exhausted to be fighting a literal piece of furniture, he resigned himself to sticking his feet off the edge and resting his arm on the floor.

Swallowing your giggles, you tiptoed to the bed, kneeling to look at a very defeated Sonny. “Are you going to be okay down here?” You had to whisper otherwise you’d bust out into a cackle.

“Oh, yeah, just like a five-star hotel.” At least he was able to fit his sense of humor in there.

You exchanged “I love yous” and a quick kiss, then you climbed up to your own bunk. It took a minute of tossing and turning, but you found a comfortable position for the night.

Fifteen minutes later, you were on the edge of sleep when you heard Sonny let out a disgruntled groan. The bed started to shift. Before you knew it, Sonny was up the ladder, crawling into your bunk.

“No, no, Sonny! What’re you doing?” You quietly tried to shoo him, afraid he’d break the bed. Ignoring your protests he tried to squeeze in beside you.

“Doll, it’s cold down there,” he whined. You knew that was a lie. Sonny, true to his name, radiated heat like the sun. He was never cold.

You playfully tilted your head and raised your eyebrow. “You sure you weren’t just lonely?”.

Sonny was grateful the darkness hid his boyish blush. It was an awkward dance trying to get you both to fit. Giggles erupted as your legs and arms tangled together. Eventually, Sonny pulled you on top of him, wrapping his arms around your waist. You curled up under his chin, finally settling.

You tried to fall asleep but were distracted by the gently snoring man beneath you. You felt enveloped by his warmth, intoxicated by the smell of his cologne. You knew this was quite possibly the worst time and place to be horny, but you couldn’t ignore the heat growing in your belly. You needed to relieve the tension, so you slowly ground into Sonny.

You felt a groan reverberate in his chest. “Doll, whatcha doin’?” His voice was low, thick with sleep.

“Well, you were complaining about being cold.” You ground your hips harder into his, hoping he would get the message.

Sonny’s laugh was cut off by a wanton moan. He slowly tightened his hands around your hips. You felt him growing hard beneath you.

Your message was clearly received.

He gently flipped you onto your back. “You're gonna be the death of me, ya know that...possibly literally.” He looked over the side of the bed, gauging how far the ground was.

He knew this was a bad idea. But you were so effortlessly beautiful laid out beneath him, wearing nothing but panties and his shirt. His desire for you had been building all night. Watching you blend in so easily with his crazy family, strutting around in your green party dress. He’d barely been able to keep his hands to himself. Now, hovering above you, his resolve was quickly slipping away. Your skin was soft under his fingertips, and he could smell remnants of your gingerbread perfume. You felt like the perfect Christmas present—handpicked just for him, waiting to be unwrapped. How could he resist?

He pulled you into a searing kiss. You kissed him back with the same intensity, rubbing your hands up and down his back. You moaned into his mouth, louder than you’d intended. Sonny shushed you, reminding you that you had to be quiet. You carefully peeled Sonny out of his undershirt. A goofy smile spread onto his face as he watched you struggle against the fabric. He realized how juvenile this was, but he was enjoying every minute of it. He looked deeply into your eyes, feeling the closeness he’d been desperately craving the whole evening.

He balanced himself on his forearms, wanting to make you as comfortable as possible. He hiked up your shirt just enough to gain access to your chest. He gently massaged your sensitive breast. His calloused fingers dragged gently against your skin and across your nipple, making it harden beneath his touch. You gasped as you arched your back to meet his hand. The whimpers coming from your throat were nothing compared to Sonny’s.

He enjoyed giving you pleasure infinitely more than receiving it.

He tried to ignore the burning in his shoulders. But suddenly his muscles gave out, throwing him off balance. Making a split-second decision to avoid collapsing on top of you, he tumbled over the side of the bed. He landed with a comical thud that echoed throughout the silent room.

“Sonny!” you whisper yelled, as if you hadn’t just awakened the entire house with your raunchy escapades. You quickly climbed down to check on Sonny where he lay groaning on the floor. “Are you okay? Is anything broken?”

He propped himself up on his elbows, taking stock of his body. “Besides my pride?” Wincing as he rubbed the back of his head. “I think I’ll live.” You kissed his forehead. Thankfully, the bed hadn’t been that tall, so a serious injury was unlikely.

As you sat on the floor looking up at the bunk beds, a thought popped into your head. “Hey, Sonny?”

“Yeah?”

“Why didn’t we just put the mattress on the floor?”

Sonny’s face went blank at the realization. He closed his eyes and pursed his lips tightly. He groaned in frustration as he laid his head back on the floor, and you busted out into a fit of giggles. You pulled the mattresses off the bunks and lined them up next to each other on the floor. You couldn’t help but feel incredibly stupid that you hadn’t thought of this in the first place.

Well, hindsight is 20/20…or about 5 feet off the floor.

You cuddled up under the blankets, much cozier on the floor than in the beds. Sonny’s eyebrows were laced together deep in thought.

“You doing alright, sunshine?” You brushed the hair away that had fallen into his eyes.

His face relaxed under your touch. “Yeah, I’m just wondering why I couldn’t be the favorite child.” You shook your head in amusement, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “Bella would never have been asked to share a bunk bed.”

You scooched in close to teasingly whisper in his ear, “That’s because Tommy popped the question.”

Sonny threw his head back and laughed so hard, you worried it would wake up the house yet again. “Ya trying to tell me something, doll?”

“All I’m saying is maybe some new jewelry could get us better accommodations next year.” You wiggled the fingers of your left hand.

He took your hand and lovingly kissed each of your fingers, pausing before your ring finger. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

You snuggled deeper under the covers, happily entangled together. You closed your eyes, playing back the evening’s events in your mind. It was certainly a night you wouldn’t soon forget. You wondered how big the lump on Sonny’s head would be. Or if maybe you’d be engaged by next Christmas…

And how to explain all of this to his mother in the morning.

[imjustasugablob]

Feel Me Up pt. 2

trainer! leon x trainee! female! reader

part 1

tags: piv, penetration, teasing, spanking, dick riding, agegap(implied), slight degradation but reader is a smartass back

You lay in bed, staring at the dark outline of the dangling ceiling lamp. The soft snoring of your bunkmate acted as white noise, but you still couldn't sleep.

Did I really just try to hook up with Leon? And then walk away?

You could hardly believe what happened wasn't just a wet dream. Even in a dream you couldn't imagine walking away from that position. But when it came to Leon you acted almost on autopilot, making snarky remarks in response to his questions, trying your best to piss him off, just as he did to you.

You didn't really know why you did it. Maybe to show him that you weren't as weak as he thought. But tonight must have really proved that you could match him.

You got out of bed, grabbing a jacket and tying up your shoes. You realised your hands shook a little.

Fuck, there's no way I'm getting any sleep tonight.

Might as well take a walk.

You weren't going to find him, just going on a simple walk to ease your nerves.

Right?

Then why are my hands shaking?

As you made your way to the yard behind the dorm building, you came across the rooms reserved for senior officials of the government posted here. You didn't know how, but you did end up in front of Leon's private chambers, staring at the engraved nameplate fitted into the mahogany door. A faint light could be seen peeking from under the door, spilling out onto the hallway. You simply stood there, thinking back to the day you first met him, all the way to earlier tonight. How you'd always found him attractive, but it seemed simply improper to think those thoughts, so you buried them away.

Suddenly, you heard a click in the doorknob.

Shit, is he coming out?

You tried to hurry away but your shoes seemed to be welded to the floor beneath you. Like a deer in headlights, you froze in place as the door swung wide open.

Leon, seemingly surprised by your appearance, stood completely still at the threshold. Your eyes took a second to get used to the light coming from inside his room, but the first thing you noticed was that he wasn't wearing a shirt.

Oh, God.

It wasn't the first time you were seeing him like this. After all, it wasn't uncommon for the men you trained with to ditch their shirts halfway through practice, drenched in sweat. But it was different that time. It would have been weird to ogle at him as he explained to you the basics of striking technique, although some of the girls didn't seem to think that it was unprofessional to eyefuck him in broad daylight.

No, it wasn't like this.

Right now, he looked vulnerable. His hair was disheveled, bags drooping under his eyes. He straightened his slumped shoulders, blinking the strain out of his eyes, as if he thought you were a hallucination.

Everything about him looked softer now. Except for his eyes.

You couldn't tell what he was thinking, but looking into the cerulean depths, you could imagine it to be the violent sea crashing against the cliffside with enough force to cut through the ancient rock.

You cleared your throat, having lost all the earlier ferocity with which you had taken control over the older man. "Uhm. H-hey."

He didn't respond, but continued to take you in with his eyes. The tension still lingered, draped over you like a weighted blanket, making it hard to breathe correctly.

"You should go." Leon finally replied after what seemed like ages. His voice sounded gravelly, deeper. His tone was devoid of any emotion, not even a hint or acknowledgement towards what had happened between you two.

"Yeah, I was just- yeah. Okay.", you said as you turned away from his body, slowly yanking your eyes from him, with great difficulty.

You walked slowly, maybe a couple metres, before realising that he hadn't shut his door.

Why isn't he going back?

You paused, not knowing whether you should turn around or not. Was he waiting for you to?

In a split second, a thousand thoughts seemed to be rushing through your mind. Leon consumed all of them. The way his hand felt in yours, his calloused fingers leaving marks in the dip of your waist. How beautiful he was.

Was it even a question?

You slowly looked over your shoulder to find Leon leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed, like he just knew that you were gonna go back to him.

Like his fucking lap dog.

However casual his pose was, his eyes gave away how he really felt, as they darkened on seeing the desire in your own.

In just two steps you crossed over to where he was, and he closed the gap between you instantly, pulling you into a deep kiss, your chest flush against his. It felt like you were continuing from right where you left off.

Leon pulled you into his cabin, shutting the door behind him and pinning you against the wall without breaking the kiss. His tongue flicked across your bottom lip, and you parted your lips as he began to explore the inside of your mouth.

"You're not going anywhere now, darling", he said as he reached behind you to lock the door. The word didn't feel endearing, but rather a taunt, inviting you to retaliate.

You dug your nails into his shoulders, causing him to groan into your mouth. "Don't get too cocky now, Kennedy."

A rookie referring to a senior agent like that was bold. Not bolder than having sex with your direct superior, though, you thought as you felt his boner pressing up against your thigh.

He chuckled softly. "Oh, you just have to run that pretty little mouth of yours, don't ya?"

"I think it's high time you stop taking it and show me how it makes you feel", you said.

You broke free from his arms and made your way to his bed. Taking off your shirt, and then your pants as you faced away from him, making sure to give him a great view of your ass.

You heard his low growl, which made the hair on your neck rise.

You felt him approach you from behind before he pushed you into the mattress, landing with your ass up, directly facing him. Before you could get a word out, a hard slap landed on your ass, stinging as he kneaded the soft flesh.

"How it makes me feel? It makes me wanna fuck that dirty mouth of yours till you can't say shit no more."

Another slap resounded in the room, making you moan out loud this time.

"Oh you like that, don't you? You want me to treat you like the little whore you are, hmm?"

You had never really been into degradation before.

I guess this is one way of finding out.

Leon pulled aside your panties as he ran his fingers over your slit, covered in arousal.

"Already so wet for me. You shouldn't have left earlier baby, I would have taken care of your little problem."

He slowly made his way to your clit, rubbing circles over the bundle of nerves, making you grasp at the sheets, desperate for release. God, you were so pent up.

"I need you...", you managed to croak out between laboured breaths.

"Then say it." Leon increased the speed of his fingers on your clitoris now, bringing you closer and closer to the edge. He slapped your sensitive bundle, not hard but enough to make you see stars.

"Leon, I need you inside me! I want your dick, please let me-" you choked up as your orgasm washed over you that very instant, making you writhe in pleasure as he brought you down from your high.

"That fast? Fucking hell." Leon felt the blood rush straight down as he looked at you completely fucked out from just his fingers. You could be as defiant and bratty as you wanted when it came to talk, but the way his fingers seemed to know every inch of you made you completely helpless in front of him, reduced to a blabbering, pleading mess.

Leon flipped over your body, climbing on top of you as he kissed you once more, now with a sense of impatience and desperation. Your little show had affected him much more than he was letting on, and he'd be damned if his dick wasn't inside you as soon as possible.

You tugged at the waistband of his sweatpants, encouraging him to take them off. In the dim light, you could see him rummaging around for a condom in his bedside drawer before hearing the sound of ripping foil.

He positioned himself at your entrance, rubbing his tip back and forth over your slit as his unintelligible murmurs against your ears sent you in a trance, repeating his name over and over like a mantra as he pushed inside. It was definitely a stretch, added to the fact that it had been long since you found yourself in bed with someone.

You gasped, overwhelmed by the sensation. You could feel the throbbing vein on his cock against your velvety walls, making your toes curl in pure, unadulterated pleasure. Leon pulled out completely, leaving you whining. He was teasing the hell out of you, which couldn't have been easy for him, either.

A wave of anger rose at this thought, how he would deny himself pleasure just to see you suffer. You suddenly sat up and climbed onto his lap, positioning his cock just right, and sank down on him all the way to the hilt.

Leon moaned out loud at the unexpected feeling. Your walls clenched around his length, like a prison he never wanted to leave. Grabbing his shoulders, you began rocking your hips up and down, not breaking eye contact.

"Fuck, baby, you're so good at this."

You might have blushed if it was coming from someone else. Who were you kidding, you would never have dared to act this ambitious had it been someone else. But Leon was different. You didn't have to think when it came to him. All you wanted was to make him feel good. To hear that sweet, sweet praise from his mouth, that he had denied you all those weeks at training.

Leon grabbed your hips and pulled them inwards, changing the angle and hitting your G spot. He began meeting your hips with his own, thrusting upwards, drilling even deeper into your pussy. You were on the verge again.

"Come on, baby, come for me. Come all over my dick," Leon said as his thrusts began to grow sloppier.

His dirty words did the job of sending you over the edge, the burning knot in your stomach coming undone at his request. He wasn't far behind, fucking you through your orgasm as he reached his own, whispering your name the whole while.

Your breathing slowly returned to normal as you continued to hold on to him, feeling him going soft inside you.

"God, that was good," you said.

"Training's in an hour, princess. There's still time for some extra lessons, don't you think?"

tw: LONG authors note rambling ahead

thank bloody HEAVENS this is over. I mulled over a completely written out story, decided it's trash, erased it all instead of writing a new draft and wrote something EVEN WORSE. I'm not satisfied by how this turned out at all, but honestly I had to rush it cause I'm going through some personal (DINO) crises. Also can y'all tell I've never had sex before 💀 I really wanted to include oral but I ran out of time and mental energy. I'll write it in some other fic and make it actually good this time. Thank you for reading my story nevertheless and a comment really means the world to me, i really appreciate all the love and support I got on the first part. I never thought I'd get a 100 likes on the first ever work i publish and I'm sorry for this one being a disappointment. I probably won't be writing again for a long time cause I have a really big paper due after the holidays but oh well I wrote the first part in an hour the DAY OF a big submission so we'll see. Thank you once again, and happy holidays!

xoxo

BLOB

[the-oblivious-writer]

Oh the Guilt

Sam Carpenter x Reader

One-shot

Summary: no

Warning(s): major character death and mourning/grief

Notes: Based off of this request: hey! i saw your requests are open (i am indeed busting). i was wondering if you’d do some angst with either sam or tara? maybe sam/tara spending the holidays alone because they falsely accused reader of being gf and pushed them away/broke up w them. but it only ended up putting r in danger and leading to their death? love me some good ol angst if you’re up for it! have a great holiday season :)

The Christmas lights blur through her tears as Sam clutches your photo to her chest, fingers trembling against the worn edges. Her apartment feels too quiet, too empty, the silence broken only by the distant sound of people celebrating that makes everything worse. It wasn't supposed to be like this.

Sam stares at your sweater draped over her couch - the soft blue one you always wore when it got cold, the one that still holds traces of your perfume. She doesn't deserve its comfort, but she pulls it on anyway, drowning in fabric and guilt and memory.

"We’re specimens to you, aren’t we?" Sam's voice had cracked like breaking glass, fear masquerading as anger. "I’m not letting Tara get hurt again!"

You'd reached for her, confusion and hurt painting your features. "Sam, please. You know me. I would never-"

"I thought I knew Richie too," she'd snarled, backing away from your touch. "Get out. Get out!”

The door had slammed with such finality. She'd thought she was protecting herself, protecting everyone. Instead, she'd handed you to them gift-wrapped - alone, vulnerable, perfect prey.

By the time Sam realized her mistake, she was cradling your broken body in the rain, red seeping into puddles around you both. Your fingers had weakly brushed her cheek, still trying to comfort her even then.

"Not your fault," you'd whispered, but those words haunt her worse than any ghostface ever could.

Now Tara brings food she doesn't eat, Kirby tries to coax her out, but Sam remains suspended in amber, preserved in the moment she lost you. Your clothes hang in her closet like ghosts. She wears your sweaters to sleep, buries her face in the fabric and pretends she can still feel your warmth.

The Christmas tree in the corner - the one you'd insisted on buying together - stands half-decorated, just as you'd left it. Tinsel dangles like broken promises. The star you'd picked out remains in its box, because finishing it without you feels like accepting you're gone.

Sam traces the words of your last text message: "I love you. We'll talk soon." Her phone screen has cracked from how many times she's dropped it, hands shaking too hard to hold on.

She knows she should let others in. Knows you'd want her to live, to heal, to forgive herself. But every time Tara hugs her or Kirby offers support, it feels like betraying your memory. Like she doesn't deserve comfort after what she did to you.

Sometimes, in the depths of night when the walls feel like they're closing in, Sam swears she can feel you. A whisper of movement in her peripheral vision, the ghost of your touch against her shoulder, the way the air shifts as if accommodating your presence.

"I see you everywhere," she whispers into the darkness, clutching your sweater like a lifeline. "The coffee mug you chipped is still in the cabinet. Your stupid action movies are still in my queue. I can't… I can't delete them."

The apartment creaks, settling into winter's grip, and Sam lets out a broken laugh. "Remember how you used to say these old buildings had character? God, you'd make up stories about the noises - ghosts having dance parties, you said." Her voice catches. "Is that what you're doing now? Dancing without me?"

Sam reaches out, fingers trembling in the empty air where she imagines you might be. "I fucked up. I fucked up so bad. I was so scared of losing everyone that I pushed away the one person who…" She chokes on the words. "The one person who never gave me a reason to doubt them."

The Christmas lights flicker, and for a moment, Sam's heart stops. She's learned to find meaning in these small disturbances, these tiny rebellions against reality. "I know what you'd say. That I need to forgive myself. That I need to let people in." Tears track down her cheeks. "But how can I? How can I when every time I close my eyes, I see you bleeding out in my arms?"

Something shifts in the room - maybe the heating kicking in, maybe something more. The tinsel on the half-decorated tree sways gently. Sam watches it, transfixed. "If you're here… I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry. I should have trusted you. Should have protected you. Should have been there when…"

The star for the tree - your star - sits in its box on the coffee table. As Sam watches through tears, a draft from somewhere catches the lid, lifting it slightly. Her breath hitches.

"You want me to finish it, don't you? The tree?" Her laugh is wet, broken. "Always so stubborn about traditions." She reaches for the star with shaking hands. "I don't know if I can. It feels like accepting you're really…"

The room grows impossibly still, as if the very air is holding its breath. Sam could swear she feels the phantom pressure of your hand over hers, guiding her toward the tree. The sensation is so vivid she gasps.

"Okay," she whispers, standing on unsteady legs. "Okay, baby. For you." She clutches the star to her chest, your sweater hanging loose on her frame. "But I'm not ready to let you go. Not yet. Maybe not ever."

As she reaches up to place the star, the Christmas lights seem to glow a little brighter, and for just a moment, Sam swears she can feel your arms around her waist, your chin on her shoulder, just like before. Just like always.

"Stay with me?" she asks the empty room, knowing the answer, dreading the silence. "Even if I don't deserve it?"

The lights flicker once, twice - like a heartbeat, like a promise - and Sam breaks down sobbing, sliding to the floor beneath your half-finished tree, beneath your star, beneath the weight of a love that even death couldn't quite end.

———

A/N: first request filled, ob-la-di (sorry if this sucks, I’m half-asleep)

[pleasestayawayidonotlikeyou]

Bad Sanses x Reader who is going to wear a very revealing Mrs. Claus costume for a Christmas party? (Maybe with some Jealousy and Mistletoe too >:3)

Featuring: Nightmare, Killer, Dust, Ted, Error, Cross

Masterlist

Nightmare

Back into the bedroom you go.

He's not letting you out wearing these revealing clothes and no you are not seeing a bulge on his pants it's just your imagination.

The king of negativity would never let his partner walk around with such provocative wearing... Especially with his servants around.. he doesn't want them staring at what's clearly his!

Nightmare doesn't let it slide- even if it seems he does throughout the night- just enjoy the party while you can, before your legs stop working for some time..

Killer

If I tell you that he decided to wear the same thing..

The rest of the gang definitely were eyeing you two up and down with a "what the fuck" expression, Ted may even ask what on earth are you two wearing.

"Whatcha mean? We're just matching."

Is it possible that he convinces you to make out in front of everyone? Maybe. Will Nightmare kick your butts if you do? Absolutely.

Ted

At first he doesn't really realize, of course he asks if what you're wearing isn't it too fresh for this epoch of the year? but he brushes it off.

Yet when he sees Killer flirting while holding a mistletoe up between you two, he doesn't think twice before snatching you away to the bedroom. There's a "talk" he wants to have with you..

It didn't take long for him to be rubbing himself against you, pinning your arms on top of your head with his claw while he leaves bite marks all over the visible skin.

Now, he may finish the job right there.. or let you go back to the party with his mark all over your body and needy for the rest of the night.. it depends on his mood at the time.

Dust

He comes from the shadows and hugs you from behind while you're putting the costume on.

"Where do you plan on going with that? Exactly, nowhere."

He's not the type to care about the clothes you wear, yet he's not going to let you go almost naked to the party, not with Killer there! So either you switch clothes or he entertains you with something else..

I mean it's not a surprise that you find yourself moaning into a pillow while Dust rapidly thrusts into you, is it? Seems like you two will open your gifts on the 26th this year..

Cross

Quick to find you a sweater to cover you up, how can you come so exposed to a party in the middle of the winter??

Now, Cross is no innocent, he knows what you're trying to do, but it won't work, not with him! Or will it?

It's so convenient that you're bending down to pick something up when only he is present in the room, don't you think?

Killer already told him- "It's a win Criss-Cross, you get your gift now or only next year huh?" Yet he's sure that's only Killer being slightly perverted, no way you got him to be a type of cupid did you??

In the end, you get what you wanted. He cursing you out while thrusting deep into you, congratulations I guess?

Error

Bitch cover yourself.

It's almost NEGATIVE temperature outside and you're wearing a top with a mini skirt?? OH HELL NO.

He's surprisingly giving you his coat. You better be grateful idiot, it isn't everyday the god of destruction gives his precious clothes to a mere mortal.

Error's eyeing you up and down without you noticing, you think you have the right to provoke him like this?

"Ʉ₲Ⱨ ..ɎØɄ ฿Ɇ₮₮ɆⱤ ₱Ɽ₳Ɏ Ɽł₲Ⱨ₮ ⱧɆⱤɆ ฿Ɇ₵₳Ʉ₴Ɇ ł₥ Ⱨ₳Vł₦₲ ₦Ø ₱ł₮Ɏ Ø₣ ɎØɄ ₩ⱧɆ₦ ₩Ɇ ₲Ø ฿₳₵₭ ₮Ø ₮ⱧɆ ₳₦₮łVØłĐ ɎØɄ ł��łØ₮.."

[cailinsblog]

A Christmas to Remember | lando norris

Lando Norris x reader

Guyssss it’s almost Christmas

The cold winter air bit at Lando Norris’s face as he stood outside his apartment, looking out over the twinkling lights of the city. It was Christmas Eve, and the usual hustle and bustle of Formula 1 had quieted down for the season. For the first time in what felt like forever, Lando had time to truly relax, and he was about to spend it with the one person who always made him feel at home — his girlfriend, Y/N.

Lando had been counting down the days, excited not only for the Christmas festivities but also for the surprise he had planned for her. After months of searching for the perfect gift, he had finally found something that he knew would make her heart melt — a puppy. But this wasn’t just any puppy; it was a fluffy, playful Golden Retriever, with soft fur and eyes full of curiosity. Lando could already imagine the look of joy on Y/N’s face when she saw it, and that was all the motivation he needed.

As he unlocked the door to his apartment, he stepped inside, where he was greeted by the warm glow of Christmas decorations. The room was filled with the sweet smell of cinnamon and pine from the candles he had lit, and there was a large, beautifully decorated tree in the corner. Underneath it, a pile of carefully wrapped presents sat, some of which Lando had already picked out for Y/N. But there was one more — the one he was most excited about — sitting on the table, waiting for the perfect moment.

Y/N was in the kitchen, humming as she prepared their dinner. She looked up when she heard the door open, a smile spreading across her face as she caught sight of Lando.

“There you are!” she said, wiping her hands on a towel and walking toward him. “I was starting to think you’d be late for our Christmas dinner.”

Lando chuckled, leaning down to kiss her on the forehead. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world, love. You’ve got everything set up so beautifully.”

Y/N blushed slightly, her eyes lighting up with happiness. “Well, you know, I wanted to make it extra special for us. It’s our first Christmas together.”

Lando’s heart swelled at her words. He’d spent so much of his life on the road, traveling from race to race, that he often forgot the simple joys of life. But with Y/N by his side, he was reminded every day of how much he had to be grateful for.

They sat down for dinner, chatting about everything and nothing as they shared their favorite holiday foods. The sound of Christmas music played softly in the background, and for a while, it felt like time had slowed down, just for them.

After dinner, Lando couldn’t contain his excitement any longer. “I’ve got something for you,” he said, standing up and walking toward the table where the puppy’s gift was hidden.

Y/N tilted her head, intrigued. “What is it?”

Lando pulled out a small, plush puppy and handed it to her. “I know it’s not much, but I thought you might like it.”

Y/N looked at the little stuffed animal, a soft smile crossing her face. “Oh, Lando, it’s so cute! Thank you!”

But before she could say anything else, Lando went to the door and opened it slightly, peeking inside. “Actually, that’s not the only surprise I have for you.”

A moment later, the real surprise entered the room: a playful, golden retriever puppy, bounding through the door with its tail wagging and ears perked up.

Y/N gasped, her hands flying to her mouth in shock. “Lando… is this…?”

“It’s ours,” Lando said, his voice full of excitement. “I thought it was time for us to have a little bundle of joy. What do you think?”

Tears sprang to Y/N’s eyes as she bent down to scoop the puppy into her arms. The little dog licked her face, its tail wagging furiously as Y/N giggled with pure joy. “Oh my God, Lando, you are the sweetest person in the world,” she whispered, cradling the puppy close.

“I’m glad you like him,” Lando said, his heart bursting with happiness. “What should we name him?”

Y/N looked down at the puppy, her mind racing with ideas. “I think… we should name him ‘Charlie,’” she said, her eyes lighting up. “It feels right.”

Lando nodded. “Charlie it is. Welcome to the family, little guy.” He leaned down to give Y/N and the puppy a kiss on the cheek, feeling like the luckiest man alive.

The rest of the evening was filled with laughter and love, the couple spending time with their new furry friend as they exchanged stories, gifts, and holiday wishes. As the clock struck midnight, signaling the arrival of Christmas Day, Y/N stood up and handed Lando a carefully wrapped box.

“Your turn,” she said, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

Lando smiled as he took the box from her, carefully unwrapping it to reveal a custom helmet. It was a work of art — a helmet painted with intricate details, featuring his McLaren team colors, and the faces of his closest friends and family, including Y/N and himself. On one side of the helmet, there was a small but detailed image of the two of them together, holding hands, with the puppy sitting beside them.

Lando was speechless, staring at the helmet in awe. “Y/N… this is amazing. How did you—?”

“I had it commissioned,” she said, her smile widening. “I wanted you to have something that would remind you of home every time you get in the car. And no matter how far you go, you’ll always have us with you.”

Lando’s eyes softened as he gently placed the helmet on the table. “I… I don’t know what to say. This is perfect. You’re perfect.”

Y/N blushed, a shy smile curling on her lips. “I’m glad you like it.”

“I love it,” he said, pulling her close. “You’ve made this Christmas unforgettable.”

With Charlie nestled between them, Lando and Y/N spent the rest of the night by the fire, exchanging stories and dreams for the future. They had both given each other the perfect gifts — one that symbolized the promise of a new beginning, and the other that was a reminder of the love and family they had already built.

As the fire crackled and the lights on the tree twinkled softly in the background, Lando couldn’t help but feel an overwhelming sense of peace. Christmas was no longer about the races, the fame, or the fast cars. It was about moments like this — quiet, intimate, full of love.

And in that moment, Lando knew that no matter where the road took him, he would always have Y/N and Charlie by his side. Christmas had never felt more complete.

[fallenisded]

Baby, it’s cold outside…

Pairing: Sunarin x an absolutely downbad (writer) barista!reader <3

a/n: what is up chat, its been two years since i last posted a little something. Im going through it.. 🫠 And tumblr sunarinxreader tag is lacking right now,,, so here’s a little something while an exam thats going to determine my future is literally just a week away :3

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The soft chime of the bell that hung above the door signals the departure of the last customer of the warm, coffee scented cafe. You stood behind the counter and thanked the stars internally. That guy has been sitting in the corner for hours since he first came, thank god he finished whatever he has going on with him.

“Oh, he finally left huh?” The Manager came out of his little camping spot and chuckled softly when he saw his only still checked barista deflated at the same spot they stood at, completely drained from acting all cheery for service. “You betcha he left. If not, I would have forced him out myself by blasting Mariah Carey obnoxiously.”

Right after saying that, it came back as quickly to bite your ass. A tall lanky guy entered the cafe, with that stupid jingle of a chime that you’ve heard more that you can count on for the entire day today. Looks like the poor barista really needed to blast Mariah Carey now. You really looked like you wanted to choke the living daylights out of..oh wait..why is he kinda…

“Hi, sorry. This place isn’t closing anytime soon right?” Well, technically no, because they would close at 10. Now let’s take a look at the time, oh! It’s 9:48. Yeah, totally. Just when they were going to open your mouth to answer the gorgeously handsome, jaw dropping man that seemingly just came out of a romance shoujo, the manager cut you off by a second. “Don’t worry, we can still serve one last customer,” What the fuck.

“Thanks, can I have a mint macchiato? Hot,” A mint macchiato. At 9:48 at night. On Christmas Eve. Just who is this man? The manager immediately enters in the order without even a slight hesitation. “And to who?” You could practically see yourself banging your head onto the coffee machine. Is this really a good idea, Mr Manager??

“Suna,” Okay nevermind. Not only is his appearance an eye candy, even his name sounds hot. “Alright, our lovely barista here will call out to you when they’re done with your drink,” the receipt machine prints out the paper slip after this greek carved Suna taps his card onto the card reader. You glared at the manager when he mentioned you, muttering curses underneath your breath as you positioned yourself at the coffee machine to make the espresso. 

The familiar aroma of the espresso beans filled your senses as you grumpily clicked the filter onto the machine, letting it brew. You got out the proper cup and drizzled it in peppermint syrup. Getting out the milk from the fridge to make the foam, you noticed Suna was watching your every movement over the little glass panel that separated the two of you. Most of the time, this would be called creepy. But when it’s him, it’s strangely flustering. Could you imagine a drop dead gorgeous guy is just watching over you as you make his drink? There’s just something so intimate and domestic about it.

“S-Suna,” You stuttered out after assembling the drink. The flustering got to you. After this, you are going to clock out and this embarrassing act of yours is going to haunt you until the next day of Christmas. Suna’s cold fingers accidentally grazed onto yours when he went to get his MINT MACCHIATO, letting you get goosebumps everywhere. He’s abnormally cold. Must’ve been outside. Who are we kidding, of course it’s outside. “Thanks,” And he seemed to catch their stutter with that disgustingly dreamy smirk of his. He brings the cup to his slightly chapped lips to take a sip, satisfied with the taste, he lets out a sigh that looks like it was kept inside for too long. 

Instead of moving to sit at one of the many comfortable seats that’s prepared for the participants, he just stood there, leaning on the self-collecting counter like he’s taking a photo for a modelling agency. The manager was long forgotten about as these two just stood there in silence while Suna enjoyed his drink. 

For the barista, it felt awkward to watch a man they found so attractive drinking the drink they made.

For Suna Rintarou? He liked watching the expressions and how awkward they can get even though they were grumpy while prepping his drink for him. He found it adoring.

He didn’t know what made him rush into the cafe. But what he does know is how much this barista attracted him when he saw them all deflated on the counter when he stood outside the cafe, on his phone with an annoying twin on the other line. With snow landing in his fluffy brown hair and on the shoulder’s of his coat.

“Tsumu, I’ll call you back later. This person is pretty cute,” That was all he said before hanging up.

“Sorry if I stopped you from going back home. I know it’s Christmas Eve and all.”

“Huh?”

Suna turned around to face you properly, he locked eyes with you, making your breath hitch. Holy fuck, his eyes are so beautiful.

“Excuse me?” HIs voice dragged them out of your own head. Wait, why does his face seem a little more flushed than before?

“You just called me beautiful..?” He chuckled softly. This time, it was your turn to feel your cheeks get warmer. Ding, you just said your thoughts out loud. You just dug your own little grave of embarrassment. “Oh my god.”

================================================

a/n: WOOOOOOO I FINISHED TYPING THIS IN AN HOUR GRWAWWWWWWW

[star-suh]

Feisty

Kim Hongjoong x Male Reader

cw: mafia au, bratt-ish bottom hongjoong, dom-ish top reader, enemies to lovers, degradation, slapping, implied masochist hongjoong, choking, marking, handjob, spit as lube, honjoong has three orgasms, fingering, bareback, breeding.

—

hongjoong and yn worked in the same mafia as bodyguards but they didn’t like each other, apparent preferences and misunderstandings led them to develop some hatred for each other.

one day they were left guarding a suitcase from their boss in the latter’s mansion. “stay here in the mansion while i’m away and take care of the suitcase” hongjoong said in a mocking tone white walking in one of the halls. “so childish” yn blurted out, provoking the smaller one. “shut up asshole” hongjoong stormed his way towards the kitchen looking for something to eat.

minutes later yn was in a room watching tv with the suitcase right in front of him, in a little table. hongjoong then came and sat on the couch “fuck, this couch is uncomfortable. why does such a rich guy keep this trash”. “stop complaining oh my god” yn responded trying to focus back on the tv. “what to do.. what to do” hongjoong tapped his fingers on one of the couch’s arms. he kept rummaging around the room trying to find something to stop being bored.

“can you just stop, you’re being loud” yn said with some anger in his tone. “i don’t really care, i’m bored” hongjoong spat back. “goddammit at least shut the fuck up for a while” yn rubbed his temples trying to keep his composure. “i. don’t. give. a. FUCK.” hongjoong talked back again “if you want me to shut up then you have to make me”. right afterwards he said that yn stood up and walked towards hongjoong and easily pinned him down against the floor. “you’re not that full of shit huh” hongjoong spoke making yn realize he was provoking him. “imagine if they came back right now and saw us like this” hongjoong took a breath and continued laughing like he was crazy. pissed off, yn put one of his hands on hongjoong’s neck putting some pressure on it. “how was that?” yn asked turning hongjoong around just to see a big tent between his pants, “kinky bitch” he muttered.

gasping for some air and with a flustered face hongjoong demanded something “you have to take responsibility for this” he grabbed yn by the back of his neck and kissed him. at first yn resisted but then gave in. their tongues intertwining each other, playing with each other’s saliva that spilled down the corners of their mouths. the kiss turned into something wild, they were hungry for each other.”all this hate was your form of disguise that you wanted me to slut you out, isn’t it” yn said in between kisses that went down hongjoong’s neck, “i can say the same about you” he guided yn’s head to kiss and leave hickeys on his neck and collarbones, “mark me a lot, i don’t give a fuck”.

the room was filled with moans and sloppy kisses, their clothed bulges rubbing against each other, craving to be freed from their pants. button by button hongjoong’s shirt was discarded, his belt was thrown away and pants were unzipped and pulled down. they kept kissing while yn stroke the other, his slick dick covered in spit. hongjoong moans echoed in the room. hongjoong started to feel the sensation on his lower stomach. he thrusted on yn’s hand that was tightly wrapped around hongjoong’s dick, his balls slapping against it. as if it was some type of fountain the smaller one came, spurting semen around him and flowing down the other’s hand.

yn’s dick was aching, wanting to be released too but he can’t comply to his needs, what if someone really comes now, one of them has to distract whoever came so the other can get dressed. hongjoon’s hand brushed yn’s bulge but he slapped it away “why?” he asks, “just don’t, be a good boy” was yn’s response.

“so boring.. do something then”. yn introduced his fingers on yn’s mouth, making gag on them, “slick them well, if you don’t wanna get hurt”, hongjoong nodded. yn’s digits entered the other’s back entrance first one, then two, then three, every finger drawing a louder moan out of hongjoong’s mouth. “please faster, i’ll be a good whore but go faster” hongjoong started stroking again, chasing another release. “keep doing that hngh.. please” yn’s hand accelerated its pace, opening hongjoon’s tight walls. “be quiet” yn demanded covering hongjoong’s mouth with his hand. his eyes rolled back while his hands went up and down his glistening shaft. a loud grunt left the bottom’s mouth, while yn completely ravaged his hole he once again covered his abdomen with white ropes, his body having little spasms “goddammit i feel as if my soul left my body” he muttered while trying to regain his breath. “now clean yourself and get dressed” yn cleaned his fingers while hongjoong went to the bathroom “don’t ever tell anyone what happened here or i’ll kill you” he threatened yn who just laughed at him.

the fun didn’t end there, wanting to release his sperm too yn just forgot about the suitcase mission and went into the shower with hongjoong who got his ass railed and agape, dripping with yn’s cum while his own was on the glass walls of the shower, “i fucking hate that you’re so fucking hot.. i hate you so much” hongjoong said in between kisses, “i hate you too annoying little elf”. ”take that back or i’ll kill you, i’m serious right now” yn swear he can see smoke coming out of his ears, “you’re full of shit hongjoong”.

both guys kept their fuck-buddy relationship, fucking here and there in the mansion when no one was around, sometimes with hongjoong power bottoming yn or him using restraints and punishments against hongjoong.

[monogamia]

im so embarassed of sending asks but I LOVED YOUR LAST POST. Idk what to say, but could you do character analysis? If you only write as x reader it could be relationship hc or analisys of how they act w reader JUST DO YOUR MAGIC 💗💗💗💗

੭⠀ A deeper look into the relationship.

⋆⠀AUTHOR’S NOTES: I’m not sure if this is exactly what you wanted or which character you had in mind, but here it is! If it’s not quite what you had in mind, feel free to send another ask. By the way, to the people who sent requests,thank you! I’ll be posting soon, I just need a little time to write 🫶🏻

⋆⠀FEATURING: Frederick Kreiburg 'Composer'.

⋆⠀WARNING: This post contain spoilers of Ashes of Memory and Frederick’s backstory.

The room was silent. Frederick stood by the window, his silhouette framed by the faint glow of moonlight. He didn’t look at you when he spoke. “I never planned on letting anyone get this close.” His fingers tapped idly against the windowsill, a subtle betrayal of his nerves. “But now… I can’t imagine leaving without you.” He finally turned, his eyes meeting yours. “Tell me you’ll come with me. That this—whatever this is—wasn’t a mistake.”

⋆⠀Frederick grew up carrying more burdens than he could handle. His father’s rejection, combined with his disorder, instilled in him a constant need to distance himself from others to feel “safe.” The disappointment of realizing he didn’t inherit the natural talent that ran in his family’s veins didn’t help either, and his paranoia only worsened over time.

⋆⠀His perception of the people around him is always the same—neutral, if he even cares enough about them to give them any space in his mind. So, when you were introduced, Frederick was polite and brief, treating you just like anyone else who had entered the manor.

⋆⠀His thoughts about you only began to change after you confronted Orpheus for overstepping into matters that were none of his business. At first, Frederick assumed you were just a people pleaser trying to lower his guard. However, later that same day, he overheard you chatting with Alice and Melly once again, telling them about how you were against being so impolite and disrespectful.

⋆⠀The closeness between you two didn’t happen overnight, but small gestures and actions here and there gradually allowed you both to feel at ease in each other’s presence. He listened to you, engaged in normal conversations, and stopped giving short replies just to end the discussion. He even waited for you to arrive at the table before starting to eat. For others, it was surprising to see Frederick interacting without being defensive, though they simply assumed it was a budding friendship.

⋆⠀In the beginning, that’s all it was. Frederick wasn’t exactly thrilled about having someone he could call a friend, but he wasn’t upset about it either. When he realized his feelings were changing, though, he tried to deny them to himself. Yet, seeing how futile that was, he was left with only one option: acceptance.

⋆⠀Being in a relationship with him can be complicated. Even if he trusts you, he’s unlikely to let you know much about his past—unless it directly affects your relationship. The thought of you abandoning him is something he cannot bear, and he is willing to do anything to prevent that, from killing to opening up about some past traumas.

⋆⠀Frederick’s paranoia is no secret. He feels not only jealousy but also a deep-seated anger toward anyone who dares to take your attention away from him. He firmly believes that people have ill intentions when they approach you and wants you to believe that as well. And if you dismiss it? Oh, God, either he’ll manipulate you with tears, or he’ll accuse you of betraying him.

⋆⠀If you ever get upset with him, he’ll send romantic letters, dedicate songs to you, and do things straight out of a romance novel. Part of these actions can be a sincere apology; the rest, although, can also be just an attempt to make you forget whatever mistake he made.

⋆⠀Above all, once you agree to be his partner, Frederick will include you in his plans for life after leaving the manor. Even if he doesn’t fully explain what those plans entail, one thing is certain—leaving you behind is not an option for him.

[seethew3stwithm3]

frost on the eaves // j. miller

hi there :) it's been a while since i've been on tumblr, and i started completely anew with this account, so let me introduce myself. i'm clarke <3 i love to write, even though my creativity has been pretty shit for the past year. but here's a little something i jotted down while listening to phoebe bridgers' christmas music, because i love me some seasonal melancholy. have a wonderful holiday season. and i hope this is the first fic of many. much love, clarke x

(gender-neutral reader. you can imagine show or game joel, it's up to you <3) warnings: angst. a little bit of lightheartedness. the general melancholy at the end of the world. mentions of sarah.

Snow was no stranger to blood, not after all this time at the end of the world. Seasons changed, leaves fell, the sun burned, but Winter always came back around.

Blood dripped from Joel’s nose as he walked back to the house, stumbling a little in the fresh sleet. He swore to himself, an ache in his lower back becoming more apparent with every step he took, as he pulled his jacket tighter around himself.

The cold had always made his nose bleed.

Shoving through the door, he kicked the snow from his boots before leaning against the wall to unlace them. Ellie wasn’t around, or else she would’ve come bounding down the stairs to complain about the racket he’d made.

He was still getting used to not having her at his side, was still working on easing the panic that arose whenever she was out of his sight. They were in Jackson now, as safe as they’d probably ever get, but the decades of vigilance and paranoia, of never trusting anybody, would take just as much time to undo.

Ellie is fine, he reminded himself as he tugged off his boots, grunting in pain at the strain it put on his back.

Lifetimes ago, he would’ve spent tonight in front of a fireplace, wrapping gifts for a little girl whose squeals of delight still lingered faintly in the deepest trenches of his memory. Christmas had once been his favourite time of year, if only for the stupendous amount of joy it brought to Sarah.

Whether it was the glimmering strings of lights, the window displays at the mall, or the general sense of festivity, Sarah’s excitement was constant and infectious for the entire month of December. And, by God, did he miss that.

Joel didn’t let himself remember very often, for it always brought a heaviness with it that was difficult to shake. But just this once, on this cold winter’s night, he let himself recall the sound of his daughter’s laugh. Of the gleam in her eyes, the same shade as his, when she’d unwrapped the digital camera he’d bought for her when she was thirteen.

He’d blinked spots out of his vision for weeks, always caught off guard by the click and flash when Sarah had pointed the damn thing in his direction. He thought of the photo albums she’d filled with whatever provoked enough joy in a thirteen-year-old to immortalise it in a photograph, and wondered what had become of them.

They, like everything —his Sarah, the world— would, of course, be long gone.

With a long sigh, Joel rested his head against the door. In the dark of the hallway, he blinked back the sting of tears. Christmas Eve was different now, all he’d planned to do was down a glass of whiskey, a heavy pour seemed necessary tonight, and go to sleep.

If he was lucky, he’d sleep through Christmas Day altogether.

But the wood vibrated against his forehead as somebody knocked on his door. Huffing a sigh, he opened it. You were the last person he’d expected to see on his doorstep.

“Hi,” you said softly, clutching a thermos in your gloved hands, wearing a gentle smile. But that smile dipped as he stepped into the porchlight. “You’re bleeding.”

“What? Oh.” Joel wiped his nose with the back of his hand, but it was no use, the blood had dried and crusted. “It’s nothin’, come in. Just let me clean up.”

As he led you inside, he couldn’t help but think of the last time you’d graced this hall. It had been two weeks since you’d kissed him, and maybe he’d been out of his damn mind. In the days that followed, he’d made himself scarce, signing up for extra patrols despite the ache in his back. It was foolish, and he’d regretted it each night when pain had lanced up his spine, down through his knees, as he’d tried to sleep.

In the days that followed, he’d fought an internal battle. His relief at a gentle touch waged a losing war against his stubbornness, against his certainty that forging any kind of meaningful connection would only end badly. With loss or abandonment, and he’d faced too much of that. He couldn’t do it again. He just… couldn’t.

Damn him for craving the warmth of you.

“Joel?”

Your voice shook him from his thoughts, and he turned away from the sink where he’d been wiping the blood from his nose.

“Yeah?” He sniffed, relieved that he could breathe clearly now. He crossed his arms, leaning back against the counter.

“I’m sorry,” you said, gaze drifting from the window to his closed-off stance, then to the floor. “For the kiss, and everything. I… yeah.”

With a shrug, your whole demeanour changed. Softening, accommodating to the fizzling awkwardness, brushing it aside. Without ever giving Joel a chance to say anything.

“Anyway, I was going to go for a walk to look at the lights and the tree they put up by the dining hall. I made cocoa. And, well, I guess I came here to ask if you’d come with me?”

Joel nodded, clearing his throat. “Yeah, sure, okay.”

A few minutes later, once Joel had tugged his boots back on, the two of you were out in the cold. It hadn’t snowed too heavily this morning, but the ground was a little icier than usual. You had to focus on each step you took to keep from slipping. But despite your vigilance, you stumbled.

Joel’s hand shot out to grab your elbow, stabilising you in an instant, as he’d done countless times on patrol, or wandering through Jackson. Once you were sure of your footing, you gently shrugged him off, giving him space. He’d made it clear that he didn’t want you, and you weren’t about to disrespect his boundaries by selfishly lingering close.

In the square, the tree they’d set up glimmered with lights. Handmade ornaments adorned the branches, the same ones you’d watched the kids put together in the dining hall last week when you’d been on dish duty after lunch. Painted pinecones, handsewn fabric stars, little bits and bobs and scraps that sparkled and shone.

A few others wandered by, holding steaming mugs of tea, all gathered to take in this sliver of rare festivity. Bundled up in coats and beanies, their breath like clouds in front of them. It was almost like Christmas before.

Settling down on a bench, you took a sip of cocoa from the thermos you carried. Joel grunted quietly; his hands braced on his knees as he sat down beside you. When you offered him the thermos, he took it graciously.

“This is good,” he murmured as he took another few mouthfuls before handing it back.

Minutes passed in silence, and snow began to fall. Little flurries that swept through the brightly lit city centre. Kids laughed, one of them was Ellie, running by with the friends she’d made.

Then it was quiet once more, and the gathered townsfolk left one by one, until the square was empty. Just you and Joel, alone in the snow, illuminated in a dusky glow.

“You didn’t have to apologise,” Joel said after a while, his voice a low rumble. It reminded you of glowing embers, warm, but only if you were close enough. “For kissin’ me, I mean. It was… I didn’t mind.”

You shrugged, setting the thermos on the ground between your feet. “It’s alright. There’re no hard feelings, Joel. The fact that you disappeared and didn’t speak to me for days said enough. It wasn’t… I should’ve asked, before just… yeah.”

The snow picked up, the only witness to this moonlit conversation. A few flakes caught in Joel’s hair, and you found yourself staring, even though you knew you shouldn’t.

“I didn’t… I don’t…” Joel sighed, running a hand down his face, brows furrowed. “I regret avoidin’ you—”

“I already said it’s fine, really—”

“No, ‘cause it made it seem like I didn’t want you when I did,” he grit out, something akin to shame in his voice. “When I do,” he amended.

A snowflake landed on your nose, a tickle of cold that you wiped away. Your heart thudded in your chest, and though you opened your mouth, no words came out.

“And if you’d let me, I’d… I’d like to kiss you.” Joel’s voice had never sounded so gentle.

Haloed in the dim glow, gilded with a faint golden gleam, he looked… different. Different to the Joel you’d always known. His ruggedness had softened at the edges, his dark gaze fixed on you, an almost imperceptible blush upon his cheeks.

There was kindness in him, you’d always known there was, despite his stern exterior. He just wanted to get by, and you understood that, because with the world as it was now, there was no room for gentleness or peace. It was best to grit your teeth, crack your knuckles, and take everything on the offense. Or, alternatively, take the defensive approach and drive yourself mad with paranoia, watching your back with an obsessive nature that slowly chipped away at your health.

Joel had found a sort of balance between the two, and kept his kindness hidden away, stamped down by the years of survival. He was faded photograph of passing time, with the smattering of grey in his hair, the lines on his forehead and the wrinkles by his eyes, the calluses on his hands and the scars on his knuckles.

It was as though the entire universe, whatever was left of it, weighed on his broad shoulders. And maybe it did. These days, everybody had a cross to bear, memories they’d rather forget.

But if this moment, whatever it was, could ease that ache in him, in you, even if just for a second… You’d take that chance. You’d spent a long time waiting for it.

“Okay,” you whispered, nodding slowly.

His hand came up to cup your cheek as he leaned in, and you were startled by the impulse that bloomed in your chest. The desire to just surrender. To take a moment of respite, alone here in his arms.

He tasted of hot cocoa and mint, and his lips were a little chapped from the cold. But the warmth that seeped into you was a pleasant embrace. And he kissed you like he’d done it a million times before, with a sort of assurance that only accompanied truly knowing somebody.

His tongue swiped at the seam of your lips, and you pulled away. There was still time, you didn’t want to rush this. Whatever it might become.

“Merry Christmas, Joel,” you whispered into the silence, your forehead resting against his. Your eyes were shut, and you could feel the featherlight weight of snowflakes as they landed on your lashes.

“Merry Christmas.”

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thanks for reading! i hope to be posting frequently, so if there's anything you'd like to read, send it in and i'll give it my best shot.