#SHORT AND SWEET

[araybiaaa]

request idea! sofia has a panic attack, and topper or one of rafe’s friends see, and they know to go get him because he knows how to calm her down ❤️‍🔥

❝ in your arms is where i’ll find home, r. cameron. ❞

ooo. 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈… rafe cameron & sofia

ooo. 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔… panic attacks, hurt/comfort, emotional comfort, soft!rafe, boyfriend!rafe, domestic!rafia.

ooo. 𝒔𝒚𝒏𝒐𝒑𝒔𝒊𝒔… when topper realizes that sofia’s having a panic attack, he goes to the person he knows will help her calm down.

ooo. 𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒔… sorry for the long wait anon! i actually contemplated on switching this ask and having sofia being the one to help rafe calm down buttt i ultimately decided against it. this one’s kinda short (and not my best work) but i hope you enjoy!;)

“hey, have you seen sofia?” rafe questions, his curiosity piqued as his eyes wandered around the room in search of his girlfriend.

he’d ventured off only for a few moments with a sworn promise of a haste return as he went to catch up with a few friends. when he sauntered back into the kitchen, he was surprised to see that she was no longer standing where he’d left her. it had only been ten minutes that passed between their brief separation so he didn’t understand how she could’ve disappeared so quickly. rafe scoured the living room and backyard, searching through the crowd of bodies for her to no avail.

worry immediately coiled in his stomach.

he attempted to call and text her — but he knows that the clamorous sounds of music playing through the speakers had hindered her audibility. rafe exclaimed an expletive, his worrying now transitioning into panic and fear as the thought of something happening to her wandered through his mind. rafe suddenly approaches topper, wrapping his hand around his elbow and tugging him offside, interrupting the conversation that he was in.

topper’s a bit taken aback by rafe’s interjection and is forcibly retracting his arm out of rafe’s hold when he felt his fingers inadvertently tighten their hold around him. a bit of whiskey spills over from the rim of his cup from the exertion, forming a dark wet puddle that had already began to stain on his father’s favorite imported carpet. topper groans exasperatedly, dreading another lecture about responsibility that he knows was now inevitable. “dude! what the hell—”

but the worried look furrowed in rafe’s brow had relented topper’s scolding. “what’s wrong?” he posited, noticing the way rafe’s eyes continuously averted around the room in search of something. it was a look that topper had never seen from rafe before and he could see the sheer panic accruing with every passing second.

“you seen sof around anywhere?” and of course topper should’ve know that she was the cause of rafe’s concern.

sofia had been the only one to always pull such visceral emotions from rafe; another thing that topper hadn’t witnessed prior to their dating. rafe’s always been overprotective of her, especially when they’re out in public together — the hand intertwined with hers always got a little tighter and his eyes would narrow as his lips pursed tersely in a glower, shielding her away from the wayward looks that people gave whenever they saw them together.

topper’s lips mimics rafe’s as he frowns, “nah man not since you two came in earlier.”

rafe nodded somberly in his acquiesced defeat as he turned around and walked towards the stairs, deciding to search around the third level of topper’s house.

…

he’d just finished chugging down his fourth glass of whiskey when he feels his bladder fill in forewarning, prompting him to set the empty glass aside as he ascended up the stairs that lead to his bedroom.

he nudged the door open with his shoulder, his hands are already loosening his belt from the loops and tugging the zipper down in haste as he feels the pressure prodding. his hand reaches for the bathroom door, tugging it open but he’s taken aback when he sees a girl sitting on the floor with her knees tucked against their chest. “uh…” at first he assumed that maybe she sought refuge in here because she were sick and had decided to use his bathroom because it was in close proximity, even though he’d publicly informed everyone that it was off limits.

he contemplates between asking the girl to briefly step out so he relieve himself or closing the door and leaving her alone to their own devices to use the downstairs bathroom instead. the accruing pressure on his bladder avers the former option. just as he’s parting his lips to speak he hears the sound of ragged breathing emanating from the sitting girl. the sounds were rough in his ears; the breaths she exhaled got deeper, more uneven, spiraling into broken wheezes that pounded painful.

“hey, are you okay?” he asks, not even bothering to acknowledge how foolishly redundant the question sounded as he crossed over the threshold and walked further into the bathroom. and it only takes a brief second for the realization to settle as he gauged at her brown shoulder length hair, denim cut offs and floral blouse — the outfit looked similar. it was what sofia was wearing when she came in, “sofia?” topper laments, seeing the rigidity tense in her shoulders at his beckon.

she doesn’t lift her head from its perch, just continues to exhale rasped breaths that seem to sound explicably worse than before.

topper alerts, feeling both panic and worry penetrate him all at once. he takes a preemptive step towards her, attempting to console her in any way that he could offer until he remembers rafe’s frantic search of her earlier. “it’s okay, i’m-i’m gonna go get rafe!” he assures her, as he departs from the bedroom hurriedly adjusting his clothing again as he retreated downstairs.

thankfully, his search for rafe doesn’t extend too far because just as topper reaches the main level he sees rafe’s towering figure pushing through the crowd of people as he approached the front door. “rafe!” its miraculous that he manages to hear topper’s clamor over the music; but he does and immediately turns around, furrowing his brows as he noticed the florid look marring across topper’s face.

“i was gonna check outside again—”

topper shook his head, pointing his finger over his shoulders. “i found her. she’s upstairs in my bathroom, but i think something’s wrong—” the remainder of topper’s sentence falls into the void, unfinished and forgotten, because rafe’s already haring up the stairs two steps at a time.

something’s wrong, that’s all it took to have rafe running up the stairs to find her. his heart leapt in his throat, an uneasy queasiness coiled in his stomach as he treaded up the stairs desperate to find her. he rounds the corner, reaching topper’s room at the end of the hallway. he pushes the door open without any regard, ignoring the way it bounces and trembles against the wall at the heaviness of his exertion.

“sof!?” he hears her before he sees her. the rancorous sounds of her deep gasping breaths pull him towards the bathroom where he sees her lowered to the floor. at the sound of his voice, she untucks her head from its hidden perch against her knees. his heart drops sullenly at the sight of her, at the wetness that clung against her lashes as she looked up at him through her foggy vision. “baby,” he falls to his knees in front of her, his hand seeks purchase on her leg offering her gentle comfort.

“hey, look at me.” he reaches his other hand up to cradle her cheek. he feels her tremble beneath him. “it’s okay. just take deep breaths, baby. slow and deep,” he says, through an exercising tutorial as he parts his mouth and inhaled a sharp, deep breath. he held it for a brief moment in his throat before pursing his lips and exhaling softly into the air.

he was all too familiar with what was happening, as he himself had fallen victim to panic attacks before. he knew how paralyzing and terrifying they were; how it felt like all of the air from your lungs was being suctioned out of you until you were choking on your own body. it was his mother who aided him through his attacks when he was younger, who taught him these breathing techniques that she discovered through her own research.

he remembered every technique that she used to help regulate his breathing again; how she maintained such a steady composure despite the fear that trembled through his body, how she kept her voice leveled and gently talked him through a conversation to distract him, how she repeatedly offered him reassurance that he was going to be okay. now the situation was reversed — with him being the one reciting the techniques to lull his girlfriend’s breathing again.

sofia trembled with every breath she took, but complied as she mimicked rafe’s deep suspires. “good, you’re doing so good, baby.” he encourages, brushing his thumb over her cheek that was still wet with fallen tears. “just keep looking at me and breathing. yeah?” he reaches for a clean washcloth that he finds hanging up and wet it with cold water, gently wiping it against her forehead in attempts to calm her down.

it’s a slow and steady staccato with every exhaling breath that she takes. but rafe continuously guided her through her hyperventilations, caressing her cheek as a gentle reminder that he was here and that she was okay, holding the weight of her stare as he saw her pupils that were previously lined with tears, slowly subside.

when her breathing finally evens, rafe leans forward and consoles her in a tight embrace, pulling her against his chest as he kissed the top of her head. “you’re okay now.” sofia nods, burying her head in his neck as she felt her body go lax at the familiarity of his touch.

they sit there wrapped in each other’s embrace until rafe presses one last kiss against her head and offers to end the night early so they could go home. sofia’s quick to acquiesce, letting rafe’s hand rest on her back and gently guide her to her feet. he wounds a protective arm around her as they make their way downstairs; only briefly acknowledging topper with a head nod that said thanks before making his way outside to his truck.

he keeps a hand on her thigh the entire drive back home, his eyes look over at with every given opportunity through each red light and stop sign — allowing his gaze to linger in its heeded attentiveness. when they get home, he leads her upstairs into the bedroom where she immediately burrows herself beneath the warmth of the covers. “i’ll be right back,” he avows in a soft whisper, pecking a kiss on her cheek after assuring she was tucked in.

he’s makes his egress, descending down the stairs until he reaches the kitchen. rafe grabs ahold of the tea kettle that sat empty atop of the stove, pulling up the sink’s lever as he filled the pot with water. he then places it back in on its respective perch before turning the stove on medium heat.

he returns upstairs to his bedroom less than ten minutes later, carrying a cup of tea that he extends to sofia. “what’s this for?” she asks as she sits upright in the bed, reaching for the small cup.

rafe shrugged as he rubbed a hand sheepishly against the back of his neck. “i’m not entirely sure, but my mom used to make me tea for me whenever i had an attack. it always made me feel a little better afterwards so i thought that it might help you too,”

a soft smile of appreciation spreads across sofia’s lips at his considerate gesture. “thank you for this and for helping me…” she murmurs as she lowered her gaze to the untouched cup of tea.

“you don’t gotta thank me, baby.” rafe assures her, his hands seeking purchase on her thigh again. “you know i’ll always be here for you,”

she nods, biting on her lip as she looked up at him again. “can-can you hold me? i think i’m still a little shaken up from earlier,” and rafe’s already leaning over and absentmindedly setting her cup of tea aside so that he’s able to kick off his shoes and sprawl his body out across the mattress behind sofia. she curls her body against his chest, tucking her head in the space between his neck and clavicle — barring her arms around his waist.

rafe holds her a little tighter that night, pressing chaste kisses into her honey and vanilla scented hair, until he feels her body go lax as she succumbs to her exhaustion.

[riddlesrose]

osamu miya who believes you’re close to him because you’re interested in his twin. it takes a while for him to fully accept that you don’t want atsumu, you want him. it really set it when you start bringing him the snack he pointed out in your lunch, setting it in front of him while you basically ignored a whining atsumu.

post graduation osamu who was so sad when atsumu was mad at him for quitting volleyball, he comes to you with his troubles, hoping you can help. you let him spew all of his feelings uninterrupted while pressed together on your bed. you wipe a stray tear from his eye and pull him impossibly closer for a hug.

college osamu who calls you almost every night, complaining about the work load he’s been given, or the fact that he wants to come back. when he does it’s the holidays and he celebrates with you first, then his family, and yes you’re there too. (his mother is a huge fan of you, she loooves you like her own:((( )

onigiri miya owner osamu who brings home extra food from his shop because he knows you love it. he totally didn’t make extra before closing. nope. you come to onigiri miya most days to visit him, despite living together. something about him and his uniform does something to your mind.

osamu miya who’s loved you since highschool <33

masterlist

[sukunasteeth]

Stitches

Sukuna has never made you wait for him.

He was always on time, always there before you, and if circumstances arose where-in he couldn't be, you always knew an hour before. You were never left to wonder or worry.

If Sukuna says he'll be there, he's there.

So when you wake up to his cold and empty bed, after hours of waiting for him to return home from work, you want to assume the best case scenario.

He's just working late, you assure yourself when your eyes find the clock on the nightstand and it tells you that it's two o'clock in the morning. Maybe he was so entranced in whatever he was tending to that he had forgotten to call you and tell you he'd be late. It had never happened before, but there was a first time for everything.

You try not to trip over your own two feet on your way to the bathroom, ignoring the dread that immediately darkens your thoughts upon checking your phone for the hundredth time that night.  

No call. No text... Did he tell you in person earlier in the day and you had simply forgotten?

What if he's hurt?

You round the corner of the hallway.

What if he's in trouble?

You're so lost in your thoughts that you don't even register seeing the bathroom light peeking out from under the door.

You push it open.

What if he's-

Standing over the sink, dripping in blood, and using a fishing line to sew up an enormous gash splitting into his side?

You're frozen in the doorway. 

Faced with the unfortunate answer to the questions that had been progressively plaguing you the entirety of the night. Shock grips your throat and has a cold sweat breaking out over your skin.

You haven't seen him so roughed up since the two of you were in high school. Sukuna, always hungry for a test of strength, had often walked you home with a bloody nose or a ripped open pair of knuckles, but this would be the first time you've seen him look like he just rolled out of a fight club ring. 

He's taken off his suit jacket and his usually pristine white button down has been torn to shreds. The pieces that are left of it have adhered to the deepest of his wounds, soaked in crimson. He's holding up the hem of his shirt with his teeth, glaring down at a particularly large slice in his torso as he feeds a needle into the skin and puts himself back together again. One of his eyes is swollen and there's a small cut to the side of it. You can tell that he'll have a black eye come morning. Sukuna must see you in the corner of it, because he suddenly turns to look at you. The edge of his shirt falls out of his mouth, but Sukuna doesn't seem to notice, too surprised by your presence.

The two of you take each other in. Silently appraising the situation.

Before you can react, his surprise is already morphing into a resigned, disappointed sigh.

"Aw shit."

"What the HELL?!" You don't recognize the voice that escapes you in your panic. Raspy from the sleep still coating your throat, disjointed as your tonsils remember themselves and yet forget how to operate in your shock. You're across the room in a flash, nearly tripping headfirst into him in your haste. "What happened?! Y-You're hurt. Why are you hurt? Jesus, that looks so bad- oh my god. 'Kuna-"

"Shhh," He's hushing you. You're close enough for him to reach out with his free hand and pull you even closer, he doesn't seem to notice the streak of fresh blood he leaves behind on your wrist. "It's not as bad as it looks."

"You're covered in blood!" You whisper in horror, you search his eyes for even an ounce of alarm, and find only his usual nonchalance lounging there. As though this was nothing out of the ordinary.

He even looks down at himself like he wants to refute you, but when he picks up the collar of his shirt, finding the shredded pieces of what remained of it, he seems to think better. 

"Little bastards didn't do half bad, actually." He mutters to himself. He almost sounds... impressed. "Any deeper and it could have really been a pain in my ass."

"What happened?" You ask again, desperate.

"Just some kids waiting outside of the office." He rubs at the back of his head, and you notice another small cut there over a raised bump that seems to be swelling at the base of his skull. It must be tender, because he grimaces when he grazes it. You do too, just from watching him. "Trying to make some pocket money off of me and Uraume. They should have at least waited until we were both alone." When he pulls his hand away from his head, there's fresh blood glistening on his fingertips. He sucks his teeth. "Amateurs."

You take a deep, steadying breath- willing your heartbeat to slow.

You were the one who decided to fall for a man constantly looking for a good fight. At this point, you had only yourself to be disappointed with.

Without another word you turn your back to him and head straight for the shower. You needed him to wash off. You wouldn't be able to tell which parts of him needed attention in the mess that was currently coating his skin and you were already preparing mentally to tend to him. You spin the dial to ‘hot’ and turn back to him, trying your best to glare. You didn't think it was working very well. Especially because he's smiling softly at you.

"Get in." You command, pointing to the tub.

Sukuna scoffs softly, turning back to his needle and fishing line.

"It's fine.” He brushes you off. “I'm just going to rinse the cuts as I go-"

"Sukuna." You don't mean for it to come out as demanding as it does. Sukuna was hurt. You wanted to be gentle with him, but you can't help how overwhelmed you are at the sight of him battered to such a degree.

He slowly lifts his head like he was giving you time to think about the way you had just spoken to him before he meets your eyes again. You're too roused to take it back. "Get. In."

You can tell in his momentary silence that he doesn't recognize this shade of frustration on you. He's watching you like he's trying to take in every detail of it. Engrave it into his brain. Part of you is reminded in that moment that it wasn't Sukuna's anger you were in risk of pushing, but rather his excitement.

He folds up the fishing line and loops it around the sewing needle, placing it onto the counter without turning to look at it.

Your unrelenting stance falters a bit as he crosses the room after you, unbuttoning his dress shirt as he goes. His eyes never leave yours, testing your will.

When he makes it to you, he's brimming with pride. His belt clinks when he unloops the first notch. 

"Yes ma'am." He purrs.

...

An hour later, he's as clean as he can be and sitting on the closed lid of the toilet seat. You're perched in his lap, having already finished stitching shut the larger wounds that needed it. Now you're down to the last small cut left, which is on his cheek. It didn't require much attention, it was a tiny graze compared to the rest of the gashes you had tended to.

You can feel Sukuna watching you with a smitten little smile, like you had just spent the past hour silently telling him how much you adored him with your gentle but stern touches.

It ticks you off.

"Stop looking at me like that." You mutter, pressing the last of the steri-strips against his skin.

He doesn't even pretend to stop. You refuse to meet his gaze as you do a final examination of your handiwork. Finally, with him properly patched up and without a single drop of fresh blood in sight, the pain in your heart eases. He was okay. 

"...Why didn't you have Uraume help you with this before you came home?" You pretend to reassess one of the gauze strips on his bicep, but it's really just an excuse to nervously pick at the cotton while you're underneath his gaze.

There were plenty of people at the office who knew how to deal with wounds to this severity, professional medics that could have sewed him up twice as fast and sent him home just as clean as when he had arrived. So why did he wait so long for help?

Sukuna hums and his bandaged knuckles glide up and down the outsides of your thighs. "Maybe I like watching you play nurse."

"Kuna~" You groan hopelessly, letting your head thunk against his shoulder. "Quit teasing. I'm mad at you." You announce.

It only serves to widen his grin, which you can feel pressed against your hair as he kisses your forehead.

"But you're so cute when you want to be mad at me." He mocks your tone of voice and chuckles when you press your thumb into the bandage on his bicep in an attempt to punish him-just a bit.

Quickly, he snatches your hand, locking the both of your fingers together and gently nudging your head with his own. Silently asking you to look up again.

You're trying your best to pout at him, but you're surprised to see softness where you expected to find mischief in his expression. There's a warm fondness to his gaze. One you usually only see him wear when he's watching you talk about something you're particularly passionate about.

"I'm sorry I made you worry." The genuineness of the statement softens the hard lines of your face. And just like that, you completely forget that you’re supposed to be mad at him. His fingers trace the space between your brows where he had just made an angry knot disappear. "I do hate it when I do that."

Maybe it was a tactic to get off the hook. But it was a good one. It even has you feeling guilty for being hard on him. 

"I don't like seeing you covered in blood." You whisper, finally meeting his eyes. The glimmer there is triumphant.

"I'll hose off out front next time, how's that?"

You bite back a laugh at the image, trying to keep your stern disposition. You lean in, so as to impart the severity of your tone. "No next time."

Sukuna leans in closer, "And I'll have to get you a nurse's outfit."

"No next time!"

You were in love with the epitome of mischief. There was always going to be a next time.

[aubreyplazawife]

i’ll only be thinking about this from now on

[pr33tyinpink]

୨୧ - pink baby princess / sabrina carpenter

sum: in which…you have sloppy sex with your girly girl girlfriend

pairings: sabrina carpenter x gn!amab!reader

warnings: 18+ CONTENT AHEAD!! please read at your own discretion. smutty smut. sloppy sex (runny mascara and smeared lipstick). lowkey a size kink if you squint since sab is short. softdom!reader. sub!sabrina. tummy bulge kink. creampie. use of praise. dirty talk. use of pet names (princess, love, sweetheart, and baby). reader also refers sab as ‘angel.’ and use of vulgar language

wc: 541

your hands grip tight on the soft flesh of sabrina’s thighs as you pound into her, the force of your thrusts causing the headboard to slam against the wall repeatedly. you couldn’t help it, you loved seeing her like this. all drunk on your cock, mascara running down her cheeks, and her light pink lipstick smudged across her lips.

she was a complete mess. your mess.

“so fuckin’ tight f’me, yeah?” a small groan leaves your lips as you look down, watching the outline of the tip of your cock appear in and out of her stomach. “fuck, ya feel me angel?”

sabrina only just cries out, a string of incoherent moans tumbling from her full lips before she nods. that only made you smirk even more—god, you were so fucking full of yourself.

but, that’s what having the sabrina carpenter underneath you. especially like this.

“oh, look at my sweet girl…takin’ me so pretty, angel.” you breathe out, thumb gliding across her aching clit. you knew what made her crazy, and you always took that to advantage. you loved making her feel amazing.

sabrina bites down on her bottom lip, looking up at you as she guides your free hand back to her needy nub. your thumb teases in circles as you fuck her silly, wet flesh slapping noises filling the room.

“mmm, fuuuckk...“ she throws her head back against the pillow, tightening her legs around your waist as you pump into her—easing the torture to her clit.

you could feel yourself twitching and throbbing inside her as she flutters around you, legs slightly shaking from the immense pleasure coursing through her body. you wanted to cum, but you needed this to last. you needed to hear those pretty little sounds slip from her lips, feel her dripping cunt grip your cock like a vice.

“such a pretty princess…” your grip on her hips tighten, pushing yourself forward to go deeper. sabrina’s eyes roll back in pleasure as you fill her up perfectly, her sweet arousal dripping down her thighs.

it was uncontrollable, seeing her like this. your body felt light, feeling like your stomach was tied up in a knot, and it was tightening every passing moment. you could feel sabrina clamp around you, her orgasm crashing over her like a tidal wave.

“shit!” she cries out, riding the waves of her intense climax as she looks up at you with those damn puppy dog eyes she always got when she came. it was obvious, she knew what she was doing. just like you, she knew what drove you over the edge.

a few more deep and hard strokes was all it took before you slam your hips against hers, ropes of hot cum spurting from the swollen tip. you collapsed next to her, pulling out to watch the mixture of semen spill from her freshly fucked hole.

your girlfriend sighs, pressing her small sweat slicked body against yours. her delicate and slender fingers trace random patterns down your bare chest as she looks up at you, a small smile tugging at the corners of her smudged lips.

“next time make sure you go harder.” she whispers with a giggle, resting her head on your chest.

©pr33tyinpink

i do not condone any plagiarism, stealing, or any form of my work being published. please be respectful to all writers on here as we work hard for this. if you need any inspiration, please dm me NICELY for my permission.

i do not own any of the dividers used on my blog. all credits go to their respectful owners.

[cherry-pop-elf]

Snuggle Company

Fred Weasley x Reader x George Weasley

Can be read as platonic ((because platonic love is valid!))

Summary: Umbridge has been giving everyone nightmares. You especially, given she is well aware how close you are to the twins. Has you paranoid she will hurt you in your sleep. So, who better to keep you safe than the twins themselves?

Warnings: Anxiety, Umbridge, stress, sleepy snuggles, and it’s very short 😣 Going through ALOT right now. Pls forgive me

Here you were again. Standing just outside the dorm doors that belonged to the seventh year boys. A pair of boys would be in there that you needed. Needed badly, because you had yet another nightmare. A nightmare about her.

You worried they would be getting annoyed by this. By you waking them up again, just to climb into bed with them. Would it be better that you just straight up moved in there with them? Would the other students in their dorm be annoyed by your presence? This wasn’t your assigned bedroom after all.

You tried to power through those worrying thoughts, as you pushed the door open. You were too scared of Umbridge to give a care about what others thought. She hated you. Hated you because those twins liked you. You were the enemy by association.

You would tip toe across the room, and would hug yourself tighter. Just worried about being a burden, and a bother. Something she would often say you were. Just attacking your insecurities. She was good at that. She was good at making people hurt. Oh she was damn good at hurting people, and getting away with it.

Finally, you reached the familiar bed. Fred’s bed. Well, Fred and George’s bed. They never really out grew sharing a bed. George’s ended up being a make shift work shop table for their inventions. You found it utterly adorable how they would hold each other. They had a special bond. Magic tended to play a heavy role in that, but you still found it sweet. How that no matter how old they get they would still make sure to be there for each other. No matter what. Was comforting to see that guys don’t always worry about masculinity.

“Psst….Guys-“ You gently shook George’s shoulder, as you tried to wake them up. Didn’t want to wake the other students up, but you also didn’t want to just climb into bed either. Could startle them. Or worse. They didn’t want you to, and you invaded their personal bubble. Consent is important after all.

“Hm-?” George would rub at his eyes, while Fred yawned. They were annoyed as hell, until they saw it was you who bothered them. George gave a comforting smile, before scooting away from his twin. Fred, in turn, lifted the blanket up. You gave a sigh in relief, before climbing between them. Snuggled safely between them both.

“Thanks.” You whispered, as they would wrap their arms around you. A tangled of limbs, just like that. Was so warm. So warm, and safe. No one could get to you now. Safe between a pair of tricksters. Just like that. The smell of fire crackers, and cinnamon. That was such a comforting scent to you. Baked goods, and fire.

“No pink toads will get you-“ “Not on our watch.” The twins would tease you, as they gave you a tight squeeze. A reminder that they weren’t going anywhere. Not without you, at the very least. That had you smile, and feel a weight lift off your body. Safe. Safe again.

“We’ve got plans for her. Don’t worry.” George would reassure you, as he would nuzzle into the back of your neck. Enjoying the warmth you gave him, as his arm reached over to keep physical touch with Fred. The two most important people he has, right in his arms.

“And it’s going to be utterly spectacular. Just you wait and see.” Fred would echo, as he rested his head on yours. Forcing your nose into his neck, as his arm did the same thing. Keeping George close, as you were all safely hidden under the blanket.

“Promise.” They would share, as you were already drifting to sleep. Safe in their strong arms, and knowing you’ll be safe by morning all the same. No scary toads to haunt your dreams. Just a pair of pranksters to defend you. No matter what.

Safe snuggles. What a dream come true.

[ultravioletbrit]

“name” - Jegulus microfic - @into-the-jeggyverse - 214 words

“Why don’t you want to tell us?”

“It can’t be that bad.”

“Just tell us who it was.”

“You’ve seriously never told anyone?”

“Come on, please tell us.”

“You’ve got to tell us who it was.”

“Just tell us the name.”

“Just the name.”

“Give us the wretched name!”

“BLACK.” James finally snapped. Gasps filled the room and all eyes landed on Sirius. James drops his head in his hands. “Regulus.” He adds quietly.

Now, silence fills the room and James is terrified to lift his head. When he finally does, he sees exactly what he expected—smiles, smirks, and shock from everyone in the room and massive amounts of fury coming from Sirius. What he didn’t expect were the adorable pink cheeks and tiny smile he sees when he eventually looks at Regulus.

“Me?” Regulus asks and James just squeezes his eyes shut and nods. “When?”

“Fourth year. Quidditch locker room. You in a towel and then—"

“Okay! That’s enough.” Sirius cuts him off. “It’s bad enough that my baby brother was your queer awakening. We don’t need details.”

Regulus smirks at James. “You can give me more details later.” Regulus whispers and James feels his entire face heat up but he manages to smile back.

“Ugh, I’m gonna be sick.” Sirius mumbles.

[skainatblida]

“oh, i leave quite an impression. five feet to be exact.”

TASTE MUSIC VIDEO starring sabrina carpenter & jenna ortega

[ivysprophecy]

slim pickins

warnings; bad date? mentions of sex, cursing underage drinking and yes i meant for it to be written poorly i was trying to keep the humor of the album in the writing

masterlist | p. 2

no pressure tags; @murdockcastleslut @kimoralov3 @arkofblake

word count; 1911

summary; youre tired of not finding a decent guy who will treat you right and lay you right. at least not one you've known since you were kids. however you just cant help yourself. besides its slim pickins out here you take what you can get.

divider by @bernardsbendystraws

i wanna make one thing clear, when i say there are no good guys left i do not wanna hear about you and your boyfriend of three years that can cook and loves your mom.

thats exactly what im talking about maddie!!! i dont give two fucks that he took you to barnes and noble and bought you every book you wanted.

they are all taken. its plain and simple.

which is why even with a full roster, im stuck taking fucking zander, yes with a z, to my friends' kegger.

i mean yea hes cute. hes tall, built but not that gross kind of muscly. but if were being real i shouldve known better when he was joking about being a male stripper when hes a ginger.

and i can tell kie is judging me, rightfully so. her side eye is lethal. when i introduced him to everyone she asked him about his greta van fleet tee and he said he didn't even know it was a band.

needless to say pope had to drag her away.

after that incident i decided it was best if we tried to talk away from the rest of the group. boy was i wrong.

"so what do you like to drink? ill go grab us something," i offer trying to start the conversation, also avoiding the usual problem with taking a drink from men.

"im good with whatever"

i like to think im not a violent person, but im about to be.

"does a beer sound okay?" i ask him grabbing a twisted tea for me from the cooler.

"sure thing." god why is he acting like such a bitch? i should ask him if he's on his period.

i hand him the can, our fingers brush and its my final clue for the night that i am definitely not going home with him. no spark at all. hes done just about everything else to piss me off.

he did the thing where he licks his lips exaggeratingly looking me up and down, making a point to make sure i saw.

he walks so slow for being 6'3.

and finally he tried to mansplain my career to me. i'd had just enough when he opens his mouth again

"ew, you like twisted tea? who likes sweet tea?" his face contorted in disgust, it was about to contort from my fist breaking his goddamn nose if he keeps talking to me like this.

"we literally live in the south dude." my face could not make it any clearer i am so done with this guy.

"still, sweet tea is disgusting. im not kissing anyone that drinks that nasty shit."

"who said i wanted to kiss your nasty fucking mou-" i was interrupted by the sound of a very familiar giggle behind me as his arm wrapped around my shoulder, the smell of his deodorant and sea salt that cover his skin start to put you at ease.

jj was always there when you needed him, sometimes even when you didnt but right now you couldn't be more grateful. "im glad you found those mama i got em just for you. remembered theyre your favorite. right?"

and you wanna know the best part? zander is shaking already pissed off that jj is at my side. territorial i guess.

"you mind?" he asks him nodding his head at me like im not even there.

jj cant help but laugh at him "yea bud i do mind. she's hanging out with me tonight. have fun with your ipa dick." and with that he steers us off to where the rest of the pogues are.

but not before i can look over my shoulder and give the ginger an innocent smile and a shrug as if i had no control over the situation, when really id pick jj over anyone else.

"you owe me a big fat kiss mama," jj whispers in my ear walking us over to where our friends are standing, drinks in their hands laughing and chatting up a storm.

"in your dreams honey."

"every night all night," he quips back before i shove him off me.

now before you give me shit, jj and i have had our fair share of fun, but unfortunately im starting to look for something more serious.

watching john b and sarah be disgusting together is getting to my head. popes got something going on with cleo and im starting to recognize the pattern. and before i know it everyone will be in love if i don't start making an effort in that department.

random casual hook ups aren't doing it anymore, especially considering they aren't even that good.

unless theyre with jj.

but hes not an option, theres too much drama. too much history. too much too much too much. im not what he needs and i know for a fact he doesn't want me in that sense.

is that a bit dramatic? probably.

i mean hes a great lay, he's hilarious, he's got that blue collar kind of muscle, and he genuinely cares about me.

so of course im not going to date him, why would i?

what do you mean make good decisions? id rather do things in the most difficult way possible!

"y/n youve gotta stop giving those guys a chance, im starting to feel bad for you."

"you try finding a decent guy in a ten mile radius." i glare at him, obviously not wanting to joke about this right now.

he sticks his hand out in front of me, "fine i will. let me see your phone."

curious to see what he will do i hand it too him unlocked, he swipes and taps for a few moments, smiling down at the phone before handing it back to you.

when you look back down at the screen all you see is your instagram open with his stupid fucking smiley face on the screen.

he took a picture of himself and posted to my story. written on the screen in bubble letters in my favorite colored heart 'my favorite guy <3'

"i think he's your best bet." that same smile facing back at me now, cockier than ever. so smug i wanna kiss it off his face

i cant help but roll my eyes. "jj im serious! at this rate im going to die alone. every decent guy is taken or unavailable. all i want is someone funny, kind, and attractive is that too much to ask for?"

"im right in front of you mama you dont gotta look far."

"jj we both know we're not the serious kind of relationship im talking about."

"you can think what you want too but ill be here waiting for that kiss you owe me."

"i think all that tequila youve been sipping has gone to your head maybank."

he stands in front of me, taking his signature red cap off his head and putting it on mine smiling down at me, "what do they say in those books you read? you wear the hat you ride the cowboy?"

"this no ten gallon hat and you are no cowboy."

we laugh at each other, its always been easier to do that then actually talk about our feelings. so i put his hat back on his head, backwards the way he i likes it.

"cmon y/n/n, have a few more drinks, relax and hang out and ill make you feel all better later yea? its what im best at, you know."

"its gonna take more than a few more teas to convince me jj"

"what about that thing you like that i do with my tongue, huh mama? doesnt that sound pretty good right now? i think it does."

"i give you one fucking compliment and it goes straight to your head."

"technically its about my head so that makes perfect sense," he hands me another can with that stupid signature smirk of his and his stupid sexy hat backwards. i hate to admit it's working on me.

just like it does every other time.

i squint my eyes at him taking the can, rolling the idea around in my head. "fuck it. its not like anyone else is offering," i take a big sip of my drink.

jj pumps his fist in the air like a victorious idiot giving a few woots and hollars before picking me up and throwing me over his shoulder despite my wishes.

"jb!!" he shouts turning around to face him, "we're headed out!"

john b looks at the two of us shaking his head at how im kicking my feet to wiggle out of jjs oddly strong grip. "make sure you change the sheets when youre done!"

oh my god he did not just say that. "fuck both of you!"

jj just laughs carrying you back to the chateau like a kid who's excited to use a brand new birthday present.

"what happened to letting me have a few more drinks before we left??"

"youre just too irresistable mama, gotta have you now,' he gives my ass a light slap for good measure causing me to roll my eyes for the 600th time tonight.

"are you gonna put me down now?"

he pretends to look like hes thinking about it, "i guess. only so i can watch you walk away," he does as he says helping me get my feet on the ground.

"youre a pervert."

"no im flirtatious, and you love it, you know it makes you blush i see it. now go on and give me a lil walk yea?"

oh im gonna kill him...

oh wait! im gonna kill him!

"okay... fine. but no touching until we get home," i smile walking away exactly like he asked, but i know behind me he is a puddle of mud. standing still, about to start begging me to let him.

he finally catches up after a few seconds "mama please- cmon thats not fair. you look too good in those shorts you know i cant wait that long. just wanna feel you."

i cant help but giggle at his words, its honestly adorable how mopey he gets. like i just kicked his puppy or something.

"hands of jj i mean it... not until that door shuts behind us."

it didn't really matter that i can see the chateau or that ill be there in literally a minute.

its actually painful for jj to not be able to touch me as he pleases.

i turn around to face him with a cheeky smile. "you want me maybank?"

and of course he nods so hard it looks like his head is going to fall right off.

"come and get me," running towards the house, i can see the moment when his reflexes kick in, his boots thudding against the ground as he gains on me.

just before i can make it to the poarch jj wraps his arms around me, lifting me a few inches off the ground and spinning me around in a fit of laughter.

"okay! okay okay okay you win- you got me."

"oh ive got you mama, and im havin you for the rest of the fucking night," he presses a kiss to my neck hauling me inside, the screen door slamming shut after us.

am i gonna regret this tomorrow? most likely.

but what can i say? its slim pickins in this part of town.

[bunny-jpeg]

ruining the leg of lando's driving suit because there was little time to have sex before the interviews after the qualifiers. so you ended up with your skirt flipped up and your pussy rubbing against the leg of his driving suit. the fabric felt perfect against your achy cunt.

you're a fanatic as you thigh ride him, your pretty nails dug into his shoulder as he watched your pretty tits bounce as you move up and down his leg. he'd even call you his puppy since you hump like one and when you try to protest, he stuffed two thick fingers in your mouth to keep you quiet. 'no use causing a see, love." as he continued to eye you, his cock straining his pants.

your wetness soaked through your cotton panties and dragged up and down his thigh as you feverishly try to get off with the limited amount of time you had. either you climaxed now or had to edge yourself until you could be more alone. it was desperate, you looked pathetic. and lando loved it.

what you didn't expect was your wetness to dry on the leg of the pants, and now lando has to do interviews with your drying cum on his leg. he can't help but simply smile when his teammate threw suspicious glances at him. <3

[sabrinasgallery]

★﹐sabrina carpenter: short n’ sweet | promotional photoshoot (2024)．﹗★

[batsybat91]

Smut! Minors, Do Not Interact!!

CW: Office sex, unsafe sex, sexual frustration

Summary: You're Leon's secretary, and both of you are blue-balled in your office. Leon decides to remedy that today.

Seeing men hard in their pants always gets you riled up. You don't know why it sets you off, but it does. It doesn't happen very often, because you don't have a boyfriend. It's unfortunate that you don't get to experience that thrill; the one you get when you know you're the cause of their erection.

You are a secretary for Leon Kennedy at the DSO. He is the best boss you've ever had - and goddamn, he is sexy. Sometimes, he catches you ogling him, the way you squirm in your seat like you want to jump his bones right there. You've fantasized about Leon in every dirty way possible. It's upsetting that you can't climb him like a tree. The things you would let that man do to you-

God, you're getting yourself horny again. This is the worst part of work. That pressure begins to build between your hips, and it becomes increasingly obvious that you won't be able to focus on work today. This happens every once in a while, when all you can think about is going home to finish yourself off.

Leon brusquely walks out of his office. You suddenly remember a letter someone left for him at your desk, just outside of his office. "Oh, Leon!" you say, voice an octave higher than usual. "I- I have you- a letter for you."

You see it. The rock-hard length of his cock bouncing inside his slacks. "I'm busy!" he snaps at you.

He never snaps at you. But you are too busy staring at his crotch to care. "Fuck," you gasp. "Sorry, Mr. Kennedy."

"Don't call me that!" he groans.

"Sorry!" you squeak out again.

"Stop looking!" he growls.

"I- I'm sorry!" you apologize for the third time.

"Get in my office," he snarls. You can't get up fast enough. Today, you wore a skirt. That means easy access, if he decides to fuck you.

He locks the door behind you, then draws the blinds. There isn't a camera in this office, so you know he's not worried about anyone seeing you.

Lips crash into yours, desperate, hungry, needy. He grinds against you and God- the feeling of his length against your clothed cunt drives you insane.

"You're mine." He kisses your neck, sucking at your oversensitive skin.

"Fuck, yes, Mr. Kennedy, yours," you affirm, drunk on the feeling of his zipper brushing your clit.

"You think I don't see the way you look at me? The hunger in your eyes? The way you squirm in your seat like you can't stand the sight of me?" Leon asks between firey kisses.

"No," you admit. He swipes everything off your desk and lays you back against it. Leon's big hands slip under your skirt to yank your panties to your knees.

"I should have fucked you sooner." He nips your earlobe.

"Yes!" you agree, dazed from the sheer amount of hormones flooding your system.

He unbuttons his slacks, then pulls them down just enough to let his red, angry cock free. You watch it bounce as he jerks his hand over his length once. Pre-cum gathers at the tip, and you damn near lose your mind.

"Leon!" you exclaim. You can't think of anything else to say. He pushes your skirt up, pulling you to the edge of the desk. Then, he is inside of you. One sharp thrust, and he's bottomed out. You want to cry out, but his hand is over your mouth.

"Can't believe you," he says, eyes focused on the sight of his dick sliding in and out of your core. He's never loved a sight so much. "Always making me hard. Fuck! You're beautiful, baby. Just want to sink my teeth into you."

"Leon," you mumble against his hand. His thrusts are erratic, and you're barely able to register what's happening. God, it feels good. You need more. You are ravenous, groping for his collar. You yank him down to your level. Leon's lips meet yours in a bruising kiss as he fucks you.

His thumb comes down to brush your clit, and fireworks explode in the back of your vision. His mouth swallows all your sounds, ensuring no one can hear you.

He is rough. Every snap of his hips against yours makes you want to scream. But he won't let you. Tears pricking at the edge of your vision as he drives into you, you claw at his suit jacket. He breaks the kiss for air, and you immediately move to bury your head against his shoulder. "Mmph!" you moan, muffled by his suit jacket.

"Fuck- you're so tight-" he chokes, panting like a wild animal.

One last thrust is all it takes for the two of you to come together. You are certain tears flow from your eyes now. Not from pain, but from the sheer realization that Leon Kennedy is fucking you. You feel full, even when he pulls out. "Leon," you whine softly. His pleasure drips from you onto his desk, smearing over your thighs.

"I'm taking you to my bed tonight." He presses another searing kiss to your lips as if to seal the promise.

[steddiehyperfixation]

still into you (steddie ficlet)

Eddie wakes to the mouthwatering smell of bacon and eggs and fresh-made pancakes. He stretches lazily and heads to the kitchen to find Steve at the stove making breakfast, moving expertly between flipping pancakes and scrambling eggs and checking the bacon. A stupid kiss the cook apron is tied at the waist over his bare torso and sinful pajama shorts, and he looks just as delicious as the food he's cooking. The whole scene makes something warm and fluttery bloom bright in Eddie's chest. 

He sits at the counter and sighs dreamily, resting his chin in his hand as he watches him. “God, I have such a crush on you.” 

Steve looks over his shoulder with an amused expression that crinkles the smile lines at the corners of his eyes. “We're literally married.” 

“I know,” Eddie gushes, so in awe of this fact you'd think it was a new development even though it very much isn't. He marvels at his husband of 34 years, admires every inch of Steve's middle-aged body, every place where his time-worn skin is creased with signs of age and a life well lived and well loved. The beauty of him still knocks the wind out of Eddie, a breathless giggle bubbling up his throat. “But that doesn't mean I don't still have a massive fucking crush on you.” 

Steve huffs out a chuckle before turning his attention back to the stove, a quick duck of his head as if to hide a blush. 

Emboldened, Eddie stands and comes up to wrap his arms around him from behind. He nuzzles into Steve's neck, breathes in his salt and pepper hair and smiles into the curve of his shoulder. “I’m serious. Even after all this time, you still give me butterflies,” Eddie says, resting his hands over Steve's stomach and pressing gently to demonstrate his words, “right here, like I’m a teenager again. My aged heart still does very youthful backflips just at the sight of you, and I feel that rush of falling in love all over again, again and again, like it's the very first time.”

Eddie remembers a conversation he'd had with his uncle once, when he was much much younger and Wayne was about the age Eddie is now.  When you get older, you don't feel that type a’ love the same way anymore, Wayne had told him. It ain't the same heart-pounding, all-encompassing, get drunk off of it sort a’ giddy head-rush you get in your teens and twenties. It loses that kind a’ thrill, gets quieter. 

Eddie had found that thoroughly depressing, despite his uncle’s insistences that this was not a bad thing. Don't mean that love and attraction ain't there or that you can't feel it anymore, Wayne reassured him, it's just different is all. He'd shrugged then, his face like leather, worn and fond and bemused by his nephew’s wild youth. Old hearts get tired, Ed, he'd said. You'll get it when you get to be my age. 

Well, Eddie has gotten to be his age and he still doesn't get it. He does feel that quieter love, the kind that comes from shared routines and easy conversation and even easier silences, made up of trust and familiarity, the kind that settles into his bones like it was always meant to be there. But the thrill is still there too, as strong as ever. Steve still makes his heart race and his head spin. Eddie's stomach still flutters at his smile; his touch still sets off fireworks beneath his skin. Even now, Eddie feels a little dizzy just holding him, heartbeat faster. 

“We may get old,” Eddie continues his declaration, “but the way I feel about you never will.” He holds Steve tighter, hooking his chin over his husband's shoulder after pressing a kiss to it. “I will never get over the thrill of you, and my heart will never get tired of it.” 

“You are a dramatic old sap,” Steve says through a suppressed smile, rolling his eyes as he plates the food and turns off the stove, but then he's turning around in Eddie's arms and pulling him into a spirited kiss.

Eddie's blood feels like it's made of champagne, bubbly and fizzy and utterly intoxicated as Steve fills his senses. They kiss with the same clumsy passion they'd had at 21, too eager clashes of teeth and bruising lips. It's messy, inelegant, perfect, broken within seconds when their smiles become uncontainable. They pull apart, pink-cheeked and laughing. 

Steve grins. His eyes shine with all the same giddiness of infatuation and warmth of love as he holds Eddie's face in his hands and tells him, “I have a massive fucking crush on you too.” 

[sabrinaicons]

like if you save.

[pr33tyinpink]

could you do a munch!reader x sabrina?? not much other context i just needdd munch!reader

୨୧ - taste / sabrina carpenter

sum: blurb of reader being a MUNCH for sabrina

pairings: sabrina carpenter x gn!reader

warnings: 18+ CONTENT AHEAD!! minors please read with discretion. smutty smut. oral sex (f!receiving). reader is VERY pussy drunk. dirty talk. use of praise. use of pet names (baby and sweetheart). and use of vulgar language

wc: 309

your smirk widens as sabrina’s legs lock around the back of your head, desperate to feel you impossibly closer against her aching pussy. her sweetness explodes on your lips as you trail hot kisses down the wet flesh. sabrina’s fingers run through your hair, high pitched whimpers tumbling from her lips.

“mmm, fuck! right there baby, ngh—god.” she rasps, throwing her head back against the pillow from the sudden attention to her swollen clit. your lips and tongue work in tandem, briefly switching and changing speeds to tease her to the edge.

“fuckin’ love your pussy, sab. y’taste like heaven.” you mumble against her skin, delving into the wet velvet heat. sabrina’s thighs press harder at the sides of your cheeks, hips bucking desperately bucking against your face to find more friction.

“mmph, all for you.” sabrina chokes out a moan, biting down on her lower lip as she continues grinding against your face—tongue finally pulling out to focus back on her clit. the warm ache in her stomach grows with each passing second while your hands grip her thighs.

all you could think about how wet she is, her thighs pressed against your cheeks as you circle your tongue against her swollen bud, your lips briefly planting soft kisses.

“m’gonna cum, baby…” she coos, her stomach coiling into a tight knot as she reaches her peak. sabrina’s hands curl into the silk sheets of the mattress, back arching as she cries out from her orgasm. her sweet juices drip down from your chin as you lick her up clean, leaning over to press a handful more of kisses up her stomach.

“you’re amazing,” your girlfriend huffs, still wide eyed from the waves of her climax. “you love my pussy, don’t you sweetheart?”

“heaven.” you reply back with a chuckle, pressing a small kiss against her forehead.

©pr33tyinpink

i do not condone any plagiarism, stealing, or any form of my work being published. please be respectful to all writers on here as we work hard for this. if you need any inspiration, please dm me NICELY for my permission

i do not own any of the dividers used on my blog. all credits go to their respectful owners.

[nerdgirlbutinpink]

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ 𝐉𝐔𝐍𝐎 | 𝗺𝗮𝗿𝗸 𝗴𝗿𝗮𝘆𝘀𝗼𝗻 𝘅 𝗳𝗲𝗺!𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: teasing, maybe a few curse words, foreplay and all that

a/n: i tried and hopefully didn’t fail, i’ll definitely write more if this does well, this can be a lil blurb for now until i feel more confident in actually writing smut! sorry it’s short >_<

𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗻 𝘁𝗼 𝗷𝘂𝗻𝗼 𝗯𝘆 𝘀𝗮𝗯𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗮 𝗰𝗮𝗿𝗽𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗿!

⋅˚₊‧ 𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅

mark’s fingers graze your thigh, barely there, just enough to send a shiver up your spine. his dorm is dim, the only light coming from the city outside, neon flickering through the window. his phone plays music softly, sabrina carpenter’s voice curling through the air like a whisper.

“you know you drive me crazy, right?” his voice is low, teasing, but there’s something else there—something heavier.

you smirk, shifting just enough to brush against him, to test him. his breath catches. good. “oh, i know.”

his fingers tighten around your waist, not enough to hold you still, but enough to remind you he could.

“real cute, y/n,” he murmurs, dark eyes flickering down to where his hand rests against your stomach.

he’s watching you. waiting.

your fingers trail up his arm, feeling the way the muscle tenses under your touch. “what if i like making you crazy?”

mark exhales sharply, shaking his head, but there’s a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “then i guess i gotta do something about it.”

slowly, he rolls over, pressing you back into the mattress.

his hands move deliberately—one braced beside your head, the other slipping under your shirt, fingers splaying against your stomach. warm. steady. just teasing.

his lips hover over yours, so close you can feel the heat of his breath.

“you’re such a brat sometimes,” he murmurs, his fingertips tracing higher, barely brushing over your ribs. “but you’re my brat.”

your breath stutters. you know he feels it.

his nose nudges yours, his lips barely grazing. “you gonna be good for me, y/n?”

heat pools in your stomach, your skin buzzing with anticipation. all you can do is nod. slow. breathless.

mark hums, satisfied, his smirk deepening. “that’s what i thought.”

𝘁𝗼 𝗯𝗲 𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗶𝗻𝘂𝗲𝗱…?