#and did not question this at all for a long time

[whetstonefires]

extra funny is if they happen to have studied the Nathanial Hawthorne story Young Goodman Brown in school (or read it recreationally) a person actually could parse this joke on the spot, giving you a false positive for tumblr

using "what were YOU doing at the devils sacrament" to mean "yeah i made an embarrassing reference but you understood it which is also embarrassing" is very funny to me

[maxv331]

✮ What happened to hello | Lando Norris ✮

Summary: Quick little drabbled based on all the speculation of Lando getting a bad haircut because he wore his hat so much at the Mexican GP

Warning: none :)

word count: 848

a/n: I haven't wrote in a long time so I'm pretty rusty, go easy on me! I also wasn't entirely sure how I wanted to wrap up the ending, so yeah, sorry for that!

✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮

“Take the hat off Lando” You playfully demand with a squint of your eyes as soon as Lando’s face appears on your laptop screen. 

You’re currently on day 14 of being apart since Lando left for the triple-header and it’s eating you both alive. You haven’t been apart for longer than seven days at a time, in almost a year. Everyone around you, even the fans, call you two codependent, but really, you were just in love and wanted to spend as much time together as possible. 

Between the time zone differences and you both working so much, you’ve found it difficult to spend much time together. You’ve found comfort in being able to keep up with Lando from all of the fan and official F1 content posted online. 

You’ve gotten a giggle out of all the speculation surrounding Lando’s hair. It started on the first media day in Mexico, when it appeared Lando had gotten a haircut, but his hat stayed on the entire day. 

The next day was when the rumors actually started, Lando hadn’t taken his hat off again and every fan you came across was freaking out and cracking jokes that Lando got a bad haircut and was embarrassed about it. 

Initially, aside from enjoying all the posts, you hadn’t given it much thought, assuming Lando was mostly wearing the hat because of the heat; but then you realized Lando hadn’t sent you any photos without the hat on, and the handful of late night facetimes you had, he was already in bed with his hoodie up and it was mostly dark. 

Whenever you and Lando are apart, you always made sure to keep each other still included in the day to day parts of your lives; you were always sending photos, videos and voice notes until you could facetime or be with each other again. 

Lando hadn’t changed your familiar routine, he just never had hair showing, which was a little odd, but nothing concerning. You admittingly missed the post shower selfies or the sweaty, messy haired, tired post race selfies. 

You’re instantly met with a giggle from Lando “What happened to hello baby.” Lando’s sat in his drivers room, he’d got a couple hours break between practice and qualifying and wanted to make the most of your shared free time to squeeze in a quick facetime with you.

“Hello baby” You grinned cheekily. “I’ve missed you so much, did you get a bad haircut?” You giggled 

Lando raised an eyebrow as another giggle slipped past his lips. “Did I get a bad haircut?” 

You nodded quickly “You haven’t taken your hat off the entire time you’ve been in Mexico, so show me”

“And how would you know that, hmm?” Lando asked with a smirk. Lando was initially confused, but now all he wanted was to play into the fun he was having. 

A bright rosy blush crept up your cheeks as you briefly glanced away from Lando on the screen. Lando’s now grinning mischievously, enjoying getting to tease you. “Do I need to talk to Osc or have you been creeping on me?” 

Before you even get a chance to answer, Lando starts giggling again and shaking his head. You pout and cross your arms. “A bad haircut is the only explanation for the hat and not getting my selfies”

“Your selfies?” Lando questions, once again raising an eyebrow. He knows exactly what selfies you’re talking about, but one thing about Lando Norris is that he loves to tease his girlfriend.

“I want my post race selfies back Lando” 

Lando smiles widely, taking a moment to take in all of your soft sweet features. Lando hadn’t intentionally been keeping anything from you, the few days he had been in Mexico had been busier than usual and it slipped his mind. “I’m sorry my love, I promise you’ll get one after quali”

“I better” You murmur, arms still crossed against your chest. You did miss the selfies, but you weren’t actually annoyed with him, in fact any feelings that even remotely resembled annoyance or hurt from the past few days all stem from a place of missing Lando. 

Lando knows you better than you know yourself, so he knows that if he doesn’t do something in the next few minutes, the call is going to take a sharp turn from playful and fun to somber and probably leave at least one of you in tears. Neither you or Lando were one to shy away from your emotions, but if Lando could hold off on it, until he could guarantee you his undivided love and attention, that's what he’s going to do. 

Lando winks at you, before taking off his hat and running his hand through his hair. “Is that better my love?”

A small gasp passes your lips, before you break out into the widest smile that Lando had seen in weeks. “Lando!” You squeal happily. “You look so handsome, why have you been hiding your hair?”

“I haven’t been hiding my hair, you doughnut,” Lando laughed. “It’s hot and I like my hat”

[fastandcarlos]

Post Race Massage : ̗̀➛ Charles LeClerc

summary: after another gruelling race, charles looks to you to help his aching muscles recover

You couldn’t help but laugh as Charles let go of a groan, his hands pressing against his back as the aches of the day caught up with him. He dropped down onto the bed beside you, his sad eyes glancing across at you as he struggled to deal with how much his body hurt.  

It had been a long weekend of racing for him, pushing his body to the absolute limit, but when he had a collision with Sergio during the race, his body was finally done in. After jolting in his seat Charles felt his body scream out in pain, a pain that had stuck with him for the rest of the day as you got back to your hotel. 

His steps were slow as he moved, his arm clung onto you for a little bit of support, it was unlike anything that you had seen from Charles before. As he laid himself down, it was the most comfortable that Charles had felt for hours, finally able to relax a little. 

“Who knew racing was so cruel on the body,” you teased, brushing your hand through Charles’ messy hair. “I thought you’re supposed to train so these things don’t hurt as much.” 

Charles frowned across at you, his usual confidence had been replaced by plenty of pity for himself, eyes searching in hope of a little bit more sympathy from you. 

You watched Charles for a few moments, thinking through of ways that you could help him. You remembered the things that you saw Charles’ team do in his driver’s room plenty of times before, confident you could do the same thing. 

“Why don’t you lay on your tummy?” You suggested, shuffling off of the bed so that Charles could roll over. “I’m sure there’s something that I could do to help you out and ease some of that tension.” 

Charles did as you said, with plenty of moans and groans, letting you know just how sore he was. You struggled to hold back your laughter as he did so, as much as you felt sorry for him, seeing him be so dramatic never failed to leave you in disbelief.  

Once Charles was comfortable, you pushed the legs of his trousers up so that you could get to his calves, pressing your hands into his muscles and massaging over them. Another moan came from Charles, this time one that was filled with relief and comfort. 

“Whatever you’re doing, don’t stop, that feels incredible,” Charles told you. 

You smiled back down as he rested his head against his arms. “If someone were to walk past our hotel room right now, they’d have some serious questions about what we’re doing.” 

“With how sore my body is right now, this feels so much better than sex my love.” 

A chuckle came from you as you continued to massage the tension and knots out of Charles’ muscles. You moved your hands up his leg, reaching the top of his thigh, pressing in as firmly as you could to try and help him. 

“I’ll bare that in mind,” you smirked, tapping against Charles’ bottom. 

He continued to sigh in relief, finally able to relax again. “Maybe it’s about time I accept that I’m not exactly a young racing driver anymore.” 

“How many times do you have to be told to do your warm ups properly before you listen?” 

Charles only had himself to blame for the pain that he was in, assuring you and the rest of his team that warming up was pointless. He was still young, fit, he didn’t need to stretch his muscles out, all he was doing was driving a car, or so he thought. 

“Take your top off,” you instructed, hearing a hum of delight come from Charles, only to feel you slap your hand against his back. 

Your eyes rolled as he took his top off and threw it on the floor. Your legs straddled around his body, sitting yourself just below Charles’ bottom so that you could get to his back. 

As soon as your hands landed at the top of his back, Charles’ smile turned up. Your hands massaged over him once again, digging into all the right places to try and untangle the knots that you could feel building up. 

“Good?” You questioned, although you already knew the answer, watching as Charles turned his head around to be able to look back at you with his smile. 

His head nodded in response, “I mean my body is still killing me, but you’re working some pretty good magic making it feel better right now.” 

“I’m glad I could help you out.” 

“I could get used to this.” 

“Having your girlfriend sit on your ass whilst she massages your body, I’m sure that you could,” you teased, “you can wipe that smile off of your face as well.” 

As much as he wanted to, Charles simply couldn’t, he was enjoying himself far too much. It was nice enough to have you help him, but feeling you sat on top of him was definitely an added bonus that he could get used to as well. 

“You know, seeing as you’re getting old we might have to invest in some things to help you when your body is sore,” you told him, “have you seen those massage guns that all the gym people are using these days?” 

“Trust me, no massage gun can make me feel as good as your hands,” Charles assured you, pushing back against you as you dug in against his spine, moving your fingertips around in circular motions. 

“Try and not sound so smug when you say that,” you challenged. 

Charles’ head shook, “I would love to try, but I’m feeling so smug right now, almost like I’m in some sort of dream.” 

He didn’t want to make his body suffer, but if this was how you treated him after it, maybe it would be worth it for Charles after all. He had a whole team of experts around him, and yet none of them took care of him as well as you did. 

“I think I’m almost done,” you told Charles, only to feel his hands reach back and rest on your hips, refusing to let you leave from where you were sat. “We can’t spend the night with me straddling you like this.” 

“What about if I turned over into a different position instead?” 

“I thought you were supposed to be tired and achy?” You reminded him, knowing exactly what Charles was hinting at from the suggestive tone of his voice. “You’ve suddenly changed your tune.” 

“I was, but then you gave me some godly massage and suddenly I feel like I’ve found a bit of energy again,” Charles smirked, sending you a knowing glance. 

You didn’t quite know what to say as Charles raised his eyebrows across at you, tensing his back so you could see his muscle definition, knowing just how much it turned you on. 

“If you moan in the morning that your body hurts, I’m going to have no sympathy for you,” you warned, sitting up so that Charles could turn so that he was facing you. 

“It’ll be worth it,” Charles promised you, “and anyway, I got another podium today, so we’re supposed to be celebrating that, aren’t we?” 

“That’s true, congratulations old man.” 

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[mapis-putellas]

𝑯𝒂𝒄𝒌𝒆𝒅

Pairing: Alexia Putellas x reader

Words: 1325

Warnings: none

Summary: You hack Alexia’s instagram.

It was almost too easy to get Alexia's Instagram password. It started off as a casual "help me, please" when she couldn't get her account to update one day. You'd offered to take a look, and within minutes, she'd trusted you enough to give you her password. Now, you sat on the sofa, staring at the list of questionable, slightly embarrassing photos you'd taken of her over the past few months, knowing exactly what you were about to do.

Alexia, the captain of her team, usually kept her public image squeaky clean. Polished, strong, professional. The world knew her as a serious, disciplined player who could take on any challenge. But you? You knew a different side of her. One that stumbled in at 3 AM after a night out with teammates, cheeks red from laughter and wine, or who sent you the most ridiculous selfies when she'd just woken up. She was adorable, and for the past few months, you'd kept these little memories tucked safely in your camera roll. Until now.

You bit back a grin as you selected the first photo. Alexia was sitting at the dining table, mouth stuffed full, eyes slightly glazed from the wine you'd been sharing. It was a terrible, hilarious photo, and it was about to become her new post.

Caption: "Sometimes is very... muy hard... to eat without make mess. But is ok! Me es captain, after all."

You held back a snicker as the post went live, imagining the horrified look she'd have if she saw it.

It didn't stop there. You scrolled to the next photo in your phone—a selfie she'd taken in a mirror after the shower, wrapped in just a towel with a smirk on her face. She probably took it as a joke for you, but that smirk practically begged to be captioned. You could almost feel her cringe from afar as you typed it out.

Caption: "Today I am very... sexy time. But not for you to see! Only for one very... special person ;)"

"Oh, she's going to kill me for this one," you muttered under your breath, posting it and then closing her profile quickly, pretending like nothing happened. You chuckled to yourself and set your phone down, feeling like an evil genius.

Hours later, you'd managed to stay out of her account just long enough to keep her from getting suspicious. But your "prank" felt like it was only getting started. You'd posted a few more times, each one worse than the last.

There was a picture of her at a team dinner, mid-sentence, with an expression that was a cross between a sneeze and a frown.

Caption: "Sometimes the food make me very... emotional. Is the passion, you know?"

Then another one of her curled up on the couch, half-asleep, wearing a mismatched pair of socks with her hair sticking out in all directions.

Caption: "Me, the powerful captain. Even in my dreams. Especially with... socks of power."

At this point, the comments on her posts had started blowing up. Fans were bewildered. Some thought her account had been hacked. Others were tagging her teammates, asking if she was alright. You, however, couldn't stop laughing.

It wasn't until later in the evening that you got the call. You were mid-laugh at another comment under her most recent post when her name popped up on your screen. Alexia had finished training, and judging by the number of missed texts and calls, she'd discovered her Instagram feed. You braced yourself as you picked up.

"Cariño," her voice came through, breathless and tense. "What... what happened to... my Instagram?"

You could picture her standing there, wide-eyed and mortified. "What do you mean?" you replied innocently, biting back laughter.

"The photos! And the... the... 'sexy time' caption!" she hissed, her Spanish accent thick and heavy with frustration. "I did not write these things!"

"Oh?" you feigned confusion. "But they sound like you. Very... passionate, no?"

There was a pause, then an exasperated sigh. "No, no, no," she said quickly. "This is... how do you say... loco! They think I am... silly!"

You could barely keep it together. "I mean, you are a bit silly. Remember that dinner photo? You look very emotional about that food."

"I am not emotional about food!" she snapped, sounding utterly betrayed. "This is bad, amor. Very bad. My teammates... they send messages. They say, 'Alexia, are you drunk?'"

You couldn't hold back anymore and burst into laughter. "Oh no, did they really?"

"Yes! They are very... how you say... worried! And my mother! My mother called, asking if I was okay!"

"Oh, that's brilliant," you wheezed, doubling over. "You should've seen this coming when you gave me your password."

There was a long, heavy silence. Then she groaned. "This is why I do not give my password to anyone."

"Guess you learned your lesson," you teased. "And you might want to check your latest post..."

Another beat of silence as she presumably opened her app and saw the final post you'd queued up: a picture of her in the mirror, flexing her arms with a ridiculously intense look on her face.

Caption: "Strong like bull, but soft like baby."

"NO! No, no, no," she cried, her voice barely a whisper. "This is... humiliation! My fans, they will... they will think I am crazy!"

"Or they'll think you're adorable," you countered, still laughing. "Which you are, by the way."

"You are so... how do you say... evil," she muttered, clearly flustered. "When I see you, I am going to... to..."

"To what?" you asked, grinning. "Hug me?"

"No, not hug," she huffed. "I am going to... to..."

You could tell she was struggling to find the right words, her English flailing under the pressure. "Going to what?"

She finally managed, "To... squish you like... like... tomato!"

That only made you laugh harder. "Oh, scary! The big, bad captain is going to squish me like a tomato!"

She grumbled in Spanish, clearly flustered beyond belief. "When I come home, you will see. No more password. Never."

"Whatever you say, 'strong like bull, soft like baby,'" you teased, unable to resist.

"Stop! No more of this!" she whined, but there was a slight hint of laughter in her voice.

"Alright, alright. I'll log out of your account," you promised, finally starting to relent.

A few moments later, a message popped up on your phone, the last straw for her, apparently.

Alexia: I am changing my password NOW!

With a smile, you sent back a quick response. "Can't blame you. But I think your fans quite enjoyed this little show."

Alexia: I do not care. Fans are important, but... no more with you. Never again!

You: "Oh, come on. You're the one who trusted me with your password."

Alexia: Big mistake!

By the time she finally made it home, you were still grinning ear to ear, waiting for her to walk through the door. When she did, the look of feigned anger mixed with absolute embarrassment on her face made it all worth it.

"There you are, my strong, soft baby," you greeted her, barely able to get the words out without cracking up again.

Alexia narrowed her eyes at you, arms crossed as she tried to appear stern. "This is not funny."

You grinned, taking a step towards her. "Oh, it's a little funny. And admit it—you looked cute."

She scoffed, but you could see her cheeks turning slightly pink. "I... I do not like this joke."

You stepped closer, pulling her into a hug despite her resistance. "Come on, admit it. You love me even though I'm an evil genius."

She sighed, reluctantly wrapping her arms around you. "Maybe. A little."

"That's all I needed to hear," you teased, kissing her cheek.

"Just remember," she murmured, her voice soft but with a mischievous glint in her eye, "I know where you sleep."

**

Tags:

@girlgenius1111 @codiemarin @ceesimz @marysfics @goldenempyrean @silentwolfsstuff @xxnaiaxx @liloandstitchstan

[zephyrchama]

📞

(Obey Me! mini fic. Contains suggestive content but is overall SFW)

---

“How are my brothers doing?”

Lucifer’s voice sounded a little grainy over the phone. He must have been far away, or something somewhere was causing magical interference to the connection. It was nice that he had time to call and check in on things.

“Everything’s great,” you confided. Things had been really calm in his absence and you felt confident the house would still be standing by the time he returned home. “We just finished watching a movie. Belphegor fell asleep midway through, of course. Everyone else-”

“Hey…” Asmodeus interrupted, leaning into your shoulder and putting his cheek against yours. His voice sounded extra raunchy. “I told you, if you keep touching me like that…”

”Asmo, I’m on the phone.”

“You’re going to make me… Hnngh…” He dug an obnoxious smile into your shoulder while continuing to make questionable noises.

You were about to apologize to Lucifer, but a yell from the other room made you jump. Asmodeus tried to repress a giggle as Satan’s voice rang out, loud and clear, “Oh no! I just knocked over Lucifer’s cursed record collection!”

You hadn’t heard any crashes, nothing to indicate property damage had occurred. Thankfully, Satan’s good conscious wanted to keep you out of real trouble more than he wanted to torment Lucifer. That didn’t prevent him from sarcastically lamenting, “wow! I accidentally stepped on a bunch and crushed them even more! That sucks. Oh well.”

A deep inhale, and a deep exhale. You remained calm. They were messing around.

The chewing noises that had been a constant all evening were suddenly gone. You cast a suspicious glance at Beelzebub on the next couch over.

“We’re out of food,” he complained. The fridge had been filled to bursting that morning and there were two half-full bags of chips still in his lap. Belphegor lay face-down next to his twin with an open container of demonic chip dip balanced on his back.

“Don’t worry! Yer big bro’ll take care of everythin’! How many roasted griffon do you want delivered? Ten? Or should we go full catering?”

Mammon, back from his bathroom break, was fast on the uptake when it came to causing mischief. He wasted no time in flaunting money he didn’t have while Beelzebub decided now was a good time to eat those chips. Mammon made sure to stand right behind you so his voice would carry into the receiver. “I’m always takin’ good care of my little bros, aren’t I? Lucifer oughta put me in charge next time.”

Somebody snorted. You weaseled an arm out from under Asmodeus to rub your forehead. “Come on, guys.”

“Mammon, where did you find Lucifer’s backup credit card? I thought that was for emergencies only!” Leviathan cupped his hands around his mouth to amplify his voice. All the while, Satan kept shouting, “oops! Broke that, too!” and Asmodeus carried on with his lewd noises.

You held your mouth as close to the phone as possible, helplessly trying to block out the idiots. “You trust me, right?”

“Of course. I’m glad you’re taking care of things, everyone sounds like they’re having fun.” Rather than mad, Lucifer sounded amused. There was a fondness in his voice. “Though, if the house is truly in dire straights, I have no choice but to come straight home without stopping for souvenirs. Be sure to convey that for me.”

You were happy to announce, “Lucifer’s not getting you guys any souvenirs if you keep it up.”

The tomfoolery stopped immediately.

“Whuh?” “No way!” “Does that include picking up dinner?” “My limited edition goods!” “He can’t do that!”

The cacophony of complaints almost caused you to miss the grainy voice over the phone. It said, “I don’t like being away from you for this long. I’ll need you to give a one-on-one report of everything that happened as soon as I get back. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

There was a click, and the line went silent. You set the phone aside. The previously energetic gang looked anxious knowing that their big brother could be upset, even though they brought this upon themselves. Satan carried in a disc, in mint condition, muttering about how he found the sequel and will put it on.

“He’s still going to get us gifts, right?” Leviathan asked. You shrugged.

[mainnalle]

Sympathetic crying. As long as you did the practical comfort checklist first, there's nothing wrong with crying and hugging a crying baby at the same time.

FYI practical comfort checklist

✅ does the baby need changing?

✅ is the baby hungry?

✅ does the baby have something like teething, a rash or fever that might be causing pain?

If the answer to these questions is no, hugging them is basically all you have left to comfort them with.

The duality of man is thinking “children cannot help themselves and we all need to be patient with them as they explore what it means to be human in public” and also “damn, I wish this crying baby was not on the plane rn :/“

[literally-loco]

Lend a Hand? (18+)

Pairings : Johnny “Soap” Mactavish / Fem!Reader / Simon “Ghost” Riley Content Warnings : PIV Sex, Oral (Fem receiving) Voyeurism, She/Her pronouns used, [slut] used, praise Word Count: 3K A/N: This is my first time actually posting my writing-thank you SO much for reading xoxo

————————————————————————-

“You want me…to fuck your best friend?”

————————————————————————-

You almost dropped the dish you were scrubbing and looked over at your boyfriend in disbelief. Did he seriously just ask that, like it was nothing?

“What?” By the look on his face, you wondered if you’d misheard him. That was the face of someone asking what you wanted for dinner, or if you’d taken the bins out.

“What’d you say Johnny?” You asked, letting the plate fall softly back into the soap(hah funny) filled water.

“Simon. Think you’d ever fuck him?” He barely looked up from his phone, letting his arm drape lazily over the back of your well-loved sofa. It wasn’t your hearing messing up-he’d actually said that. You faltered slightly, turning around to look at your boyfriend.

“I mean-Johnny where’s this coming from?” You asked hesitantly. Johnny had never been an insecure boyfriend-he’d proudly show you off to his friends at any given chance. You’d be the one to choose the less revealing outfits, he was just so desperate to show his friends how lucky he got.

“He’s been in a bad mood lately. ‘Think he needs a good fuck.” Johnny finally met your gaze, placing his phone down on the console table to give you his full attention. “I haven’t said anything yet-not to him.” He clarified, clearing his throat as he spoke. ”I trust him to not be a stupid bastard-most of the time-and, you know, he’s not a bad looker-“

“You want me…to fuck your best friend?” You cut him off, a shocked look on your face. You hadn’t thought about it before, hell, Johnny hadn’t brought it up before. You’d never really thought of Simon in that way, the man that managed to darken any doorway with his sheer presence. The man with eyes so deep you could spend days exploring them. The man who never gave away so much as a hint of who he really was-the man who you could spend hours interrogating and all you’d get was a migraine.

“I mean, yeah? Only if you want to hen, completely up to you.” His words were gentle, not pushy or pressuring, but a question. “I’d be in the room with you, right next to you if you wanted. And it’s Simon-not just anyone, Si-“

“I’ll do it.” You answered-suddenly quite sure of yourself. You’d had sex with people other than Johnny, sure, but never whilst you were dating anyone. It was new, that’s for sure, but was new necessarily bad? Johnny would be right there-he said so, and it was Simon. You’d met him countless times. And he was Johnny’s best friend-his brother in arms.

“Grand, I’ll shoot him a message.”

————————————————————————-

Three days has passed since Johnny had sent the message, and all you’d got in response was “Ok.”.

You opened the door, expecting your shopping, and was instead met with the wall that was Simon. You felt warmth creep up your neck to your face as it dawned on you. Today was the day. What felt like minutes passed, and you were still stood in the doorway.

“Am I coming in?” His gruff voice asked, placing a gloved hand on the doorframe. You quickly moved to the side, and he walked his way in. “So we’re doin’ this?”

“Ah-yeah! You can still back ou-“

“No.” He cut you off, turning back to meet your gaze with those explorer worthy eyes. “I want to.” You just nodded, glancing back to wonder how a man could spend so long in the bathroom.

Johnny welcomed Simon soon after, pulling him into a hug, before leading him to the sofa. Unsure of how exactly this was going to go, you stood beside your boyfriend, letting a hand rest on his shoulder for comfort.

“Come sit down lass.” Johnny murmured, pulling you onto his lap as he continued talking to Simon about when they were next needed on base, the gentle rhythm of his finger gently stroking your thigh easing the building anxiety of what was to come.

“We doin’ this?” You glanced over at Simon’s sudden words, and caught sight of the small grin that had appeared on your boyfriend’s face. “Hope it’s not too..err..rushed-I assume Johnny already made out that I was some sex starved bastard.” Johnny snorted at that, his light strokes on your thigh soon turned into him gripping it tight, his fingers digging into the flesh of your thigh.

“Bit eager to fuck my girl, aren’t you Simon?” His grip stayed firm, almost holding you in place on his lap.

“Never said I wasn’t, Johnny.” Simon retaliated, his gaze staying fixed on you, those blue eyes meeting your gaze beneath his ever so familiar mask.

“Ready hen?” You barely had time to choke out a small “Yes” before Johnny was lifting you up, and carrying you into your shared bedroom.

————————————————————————-

You were used to the familiar sense of Johnny tossing you onto the bed with the greed of a starved man entering a banquet, but this time he ever so gently placed you down.

His gaze turned to face the shadow darkening your door frame, and spoke firmly. “Traffic lights rule apply-Green for go, amber for slow down, red for stop.” He shifted his body so he was facing you, his perfectly blue eyes meeting your gaze. “You still wanna do this? You can back out anytime lovie-mean it. He won’t be mad-neither will I.” His tone was gentle, but firm in a way that evidenced he meant what he said. You met his lips with yours, planting a soft kiss on his.

“I know. I want to.” And you did. Three days had passed-but it had been on your mind. How Simon would be the one to fuck you. How the hands you’d ever only seen gloved would be all over you. You’d wondered how he’d fuck you-would he be gentle? All soft words and soft hands. Would he be rough? Moving you around as if you weighed nothing, whispering harsh words into your ear as he ravaged you. It was enough to get you flushed in bed, lying next to Johnny.

“Don’t just stand there then Simon-not when she’s already on the bed, looking this pretty for you.” Johnny sat down in the corner chair, his gaze never leaving Simon-as he watched him slowly walk up to the bed.

You’d never considered the size difference before this. Johnny was tall, yes, but Simon was big. He easily towered over you, even when he crawled onto the bed, right by your legs.

His hands slowly met your legs, and a shiver ran down your spine. Even with those gloves on, you could still feel the heat radiating from his body, a stark contrast to how cold you felt. Gently pushing your legs to the side-his eyes never leaving yours, searching for any hint of discomfort-he settled in between them, blocking out the brightness from the ceiling light.

His hands continued their wander, up your lower legs, over your knees, and settled on your thighs. “This okay?” His rough voice asked, and you nodded. “Need an answer, I asked you a question, didn’t I?” You hadn’t expected him to sound so assertive, sending a shiver down your spine.

“Yeah-Yeah that’s okay.” You murmured, keeping your gaze on his masked face.

“Good.” His hands continued their journey, ending up on your waist, just under your shirt. “Want to lose this?” He gently teased the seam of your shirt, and you nodded once more. “Gotta speak up for me lovie.”

Once you’d consented, he carefully supported your back up, and lifted your shirt over your head.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful.” He murmured-quiet enough that maybe you weren’t supposed to hear. His gloved hands ran up your torso,

thumbs gentry stroking the skin just under your bra-wire. You sat up, gently moving him off you to reach behind your back. Simon scooted back, confused at first and searching for the uncertainty in your eyes. But when your bra fell forward, and you tossed it off the bed, his eye lit up. “So eager for me..” He murmured, lunging forward with his mouth stopping just over your nipple.

“Okay?”

“Yeah.” You murmured, taking a deep breath when you realised what he was about to do.

Barely waiting a second after you answered, he reached up to lift the mask onto his nose, revealing his scarred mouth. In an instant, his mouth was on your nipple, licking and sucking on it as if he would never be able to again. One of his hands moved to tease your other nipple-drawing a soft, desperate sound out of you. He captures it between his thumb and forefinger, pinching slightly to harden it between his fingers.

Desperate to pull that beautiful sound out of you again, he swapped over, palming your now damn breast with the gloved palm of his hand. “Such pretty fucking tits.”

“Aren’t they just?” Johnny’s voice chimed in, and your gaze turned to him. He got up out of his chair, and strode over to the bed. Crouching beside you, he planted a soft kiss on your lips. “Keep looking at him hen-keep those pretty eyes on him.” You nodded, turning your gaze back to Simon, and found his eyes staring up into yours. You’d never seen him so blissed before, suckling on your tit like he’d never see one again.

“You like that, eh? Having my best friends hands on you, teasing you, touching you?” Johnny murmured in your ear, and turned your face back when you went to look at him. “What did I say? Eyes on him.”

All you could do was let out a pretty whine when he pinched your nipple between his finger-sending jolts of pleasure down to your cunt, and earning a sharp inhale from Simon.

“She liked that, didn’t she L.T?”

Simon lifted his head, palming your breasts with his hands.

“You want some more hen? Is that it?” Your boyfriend murmured, and Simon’s hands slid off your tits, and down your torso until they rested on your hips. He-awkwardly-shuffled down the bed, until his head rested on your thigh.

“Are we losing these?” Simon murmured, his fingers resting on the hem of your shorts.

“Please…Simon..” You gasped, watching the small smirk appear on his face.

“So sweet for me-aren’t ya?” He breathed, gently pulling down your shorts and panties until you could kick them off.

“She’s awful sweet when she wants to get fucked.” Johnny chuckled, his hand on the back of your head to force your gaze down to Simon.

“All this, just from me worshiping those pretty tits?” You instinctively went to close your thighs, but his hands pushed them back open. “I’m not hearing red.” Simon’s eyes went up to meet yours, as he licked the first stipe up your folds.

You swear you met God.

A soft whine escaped your lips and the vibrations of his low chuckle ran up your spine. “So fucking sensitive-aren’t you?” You watched his eyes flutter shut as he darted his tongue over your bundle of nerves, and you couldn’t help but arch your hips into him.

Simon ate pussy like it was his last meal. He wasn’t sloppy, but you were sure the combined effort of his saliva and your wetness had made you a sopping mess for him. His hands left your inner thighs-and you didn’t quite understand why until you felt his thumb circling your clit. One gloved hand rested on your lower stomach, as you bucked your hips into his face. “Yeah-you’re real sensitive.” He murmured, his mouth taking over from his thumb, making what you assumed was a figure of eight over your clit.

With the ungloved hand-his middle finger gently teased your hole, until he pushed it inside to gently begin fucking you on his finger.

You definitely met God.

You should’ve guessed his hands would be thick-he was huge-but this was something else.

“You like that, hen? Knowing that my best friend is knuckle deep inside you, fingerfucking you.” Johnny whispered in your ear, planting soft kisses on the underside of your jaw. ”You love this. Knowing that whilst I’m planting kisses here-Simon is worshiping your drenched cunt.”

You bit your lip to stifle the gasps and whines that threatened to escaped, when something else pressed against your lips.

“Open.” Johnny murmured, and you tasted leather. Simon’s glove. “Bite down.” And you did-eyes rolling back as Simon added another finger inside you, stretching you.

“Ain’t that a sight L.T? These beautiful fucking tits, hard and wet, and her face blissed out whilst she has to bite down on your glove.”

You swear you heard Simon groan at the sight, increasing the speed of his hand, as his thumb found your clit again. Your back arched up at the sensation, and you heard him chuckle.

“Squeezing my fingers so fucking tight-you gonna cum? Going to cum on my fucking fingers?” All he got in response was your stifled whines, your gaze still meeting his. It was too much and not enough at the same time-your hips rocked against his hand, and the way his thumb drew circles on your clit had that tight knot inside you tightening, and tightening.

“C’mon lovie-cum for me.”

And all at once you felt that knot unravel-and you were soaring off the cliff. Simon’s hands gripped your shaking thighs, fingerfucking you through your orgasm. “Oh good girl…was that good? Looked so fucking good, didn’t she Johnny?” Simon murmured, planting soft kisses on your inner thighs.

“Looked beautiful hen.”

“Gonna let me fuck you doll?” Simon groaned, pulling his fingers free from your dripping wet pussy. “Gonna let me fuck you senseless, until you can’t even think?”

“Mmph-please Si..-“ You whined around his glove, clenching around nothing. Johnny chuckled, tilting your head up to face him. “Real fucking polite for someone fucking their boyfriends best friend.” He teased, forcing your head to look back at Simon.

You’d imagined a lot about this moment, but what you hadn’t considered was his size. Johnny was big, but Simon was huge. Uncut, and tilting slightly upwards, and perfect.

“God she’s drooling over it L.T.” Your boyfriend cooed, a small chuckle escaping his lips. “Drooling all over that fucking glove.”

Simon crawled up the bed until he was kneeling between your legs, the tip of his cock just ghosting over your pussy. “It’ll hurt for a bit lovie, but I know you can take it. Red and we stop.” His hands gripped your hips, digging into the flesh hard enough you were sure it’d bruise. He was gentle at first-pulling your hips close so he could push in. The moan that escaped around the glove was downright dirty, but you kept your gaze on him.

It took a while, and patience, but he bottomed out inside you, his hips flushed against yours. And the filthy moan that shuddered out of him was incredible.

“Just gonna sit there Simon?” Johnny teased, and was met with a stern glare.

“Recalculating Johnny. Didn’t realise how fucking-Jesus-tight she’d be.” He panted, pulling out nearly completely, before thrusting back in. “And so-so fucking warm.” He gasped, shuddering slightly as he thrust into you once more.

“Taking him so well hen, isn’t she Simon?” Johnny cooed in your ear, his hand resting on your throat.

“So-so fucking good.” Simon uttered back, getting a firmer grip on your hips as he picked up a regular pace.

“Such a good little slut for us, fucking my best friend whilst I watch.”

Simon let out a breathtakingly beautiful moan at that word-his head falling back slightly. “She-she fucking squeezed me Johnny.”

“She likes being a slut, don’t you hen? A little slut that gets fucked.” Your boyfriend chuckled, and Simon picked the pace up.

“Is-is that it? You like being fucked?” Simon groaned, drawing a string of moans to escape your lips as he picked up the pace. “Yeah you do-you love having your boyfriend watch you fuck someone else.”

His fingers found your clit again-and your legs instinctively squeezed around his waist. “Atta-fucking-girl.” Simon growled, the one hand gripping your waist moving to rest just over your collarbones. “Like that? Like having someone tower over you whilst they fuck you into the mattress?” He leaned over you completely, his head resting in the crook of your neck to leave open mouthed kisses.

“Gonna cum again? Gonna cum on my cock-yeah, you are.” His voice was rough in your ear, and you felt that knot tightening in your lower abdomen again. “Squeezing me so fucking tight-God you’re so fucking perfect. Wanted to fuck you for ages.” He shuddered, his rhythm faltering slightly. “Every time I saw you-those fucking eyes. Knew I needed them looking up at me as i f-fucked you.”

“Gon-gonna-“ You whined against the glove, no doubt biting through it at this point. And that was it-that knot unraveled once more, leaving your legs trembling around his waist.

“Gonna cum lovie-gonna fuck-fucking-“ He gasped, quickly pulling out as hot cum splashed onto your lower stomach.

It wasn’t until you heard Johnny’s own shuddering gasp that you realised he’d gotten off on this. How you didn’t consider he maybe liked watching, it was unknown.

“Open.” Simon’s gruff voice sounded next to your ear, cleaning the cum off your stomach with his fingers. You obeyed-and his fingers set on the flat of your tongue. You sucked on his fingers-until he pulled them out, and took the glove off of your chest.

“How’d you feel now Simon?” Your boyfriend teased, earning a tired glare from Simon.

“Should be asking her that. She’s been so fucking good for me.” His eyes bore down into yours as he knelt between your trembling thighs.

“Let’s get you cleaned up hen.” And you were scooped off the bed, your boyfriend carrying you into the en suite bathroom.

————————————————————————-

It was gone ten by the time Simon went home, and you’d ended up curled on the sofa with Johnny. “How was that hen?” He murmured, brushing a piece of hair out of your face.

You hummed, looking up at him. “Do you want to do it again sometime?” You asked your boyfriend, his blue eyes meeting yours.

“I think that can be arranged.”

————————————————————————-

[amathslutsguidetofandom]

"I'm Taking That As A Yes, Princess"

PAIRINGS: Ghostface!FratPresident!James "Bucky" Barnes x Reader

WARNINGS: Getting alcohol spilt on you, fingering, a bit angsty? (if you squint), semi-bathroom sex, swering, unprotected sex (darlings, please wrap your man's pig in a blanket), p in v, mentions of cum, handjob, a slight hint of a blowjob and slight fluff? (If I have missed anything, please feel free to let me know 😊)

WORD COUNT: 2,922

*not proof-read*

ENJOY!

Walking into the house, you were immediately surrounded by sweaty, sticky bodies. You grimaced at the overwhelming feeling and tried to find a space where you could catch your breath. The kitchen was relatively empty, except for a couple making out on the counter. You decided to mind your own business, reaching into the fridge and navigating past cans and bottles of beer to grab a water bottle hidden at the back.

You twisted the cap off and took a long sip. Everyone was dressed up differently, which made sense—it was Halloween. Instead of babysitting your little cousins, you’d faked being sick to your parents, dressed up, and come to the Alpha Phi house. This wasn’t like you at all. The top student in your class, the teacher’s pet, the early-assignment submitter, the girl who became a TA in her junior year—you were the “good girl.”

So why were you here? Because you’d overheard some girls talking about the infamous Halloween party that the Alpha Phi guys threw every year. And you weren’t the type who usually went to parties. So why this one? Because you’d heard that Steve Rogers was going to show up, and you had a little crush on the star player of the varsity ice hockey team. You’d been trying to muster the courage to talk to him ever since you sat next to him in a lab in your first year. That was two years ago, and you’d been harbouring feelings for him ever since.

Your heart did a little flip every time he smiled at you when you passed him in the halls. Finishing your water, you threw the bottle in the recycling bin and tugged your tutu down to avoid a wedgie. The ballerina costume was a last-minute, twenty-dollar buy, but you were happy with it—the corseted top accentuated your chest, and though the sheer tights were a bit snug, it didn’t bother you too much.

You were making your way through the crowd and spotted a tuft of blond hair. Your heart flipped again. This was it, the perfect moment. You were going to ask Steve if he wanted to go out sometime. He was tipsy enough to say yes, and if he said no, he’d be too focused on his hangover tomorrow to remember your question. You took a deep breath and started toward him.

Then you saw them. You’d thought the rumours weren’t true, that they couldn’t be real. But the sight of Steve Rogers making out with Peggy Carter would be forever etched in your mind, because the pain in your heart was unbearable. You stood frozen, your heart thudding in your chest as you watched Steve's hands roam over Peggy’s body. You clenched your jaw and sniffled, rooted to the spot.

You only snapped out of it when someone spilled their drink on you. “Damn, sorry, gorgeous,” a guy dressed as Fred from Scooby-Doo winked at you drunkenly before chuckling and moving away. You shook your head, trying to clean the alcohol off your costume.

“Hey, buddy. I think you owe the girl a real apology,” another voice piped up. You looked up to see a towering figure dressed as Ghostface, holding Fred by the shoulder. “Now, say you’re sorry—like you really mean it, and none of that half-assed stuff because you’re shitfaced,” Ghostface ordered, crossing his arms. Fred straightened up, looked you in the eye, and apologized sincerely. Ghostface nodded approvingly and sent him away.

Before you realized it, Ghostface had moved closer to you. You turned to see him looking you over, his mask bobbing as if inspecting your costume. He clicked his tongue and put a hand on the small of your back. “C’mon, let’s get you cleaned up, yeah?”

You both walked upstairs, where the sounds of the party gradually faded, and you were grateful for the quiet. You hesitated when he opened a door and gestured for you to go in.

For the first time that night, you spoke up. “Um, I’m sorry, but I don’t even know who you are.”

The chuckle that followed freaked you out a little, but then he reached up to remove the mask.

James. Freaking. Barnes.

You tried your best to mask your surprise, but you were sure he saw it, because the corners of his lips lifted into a smirk.

James “Bucky” Barnes—the captain of the varsity ice hockey team, a good student, a charmer, the president of Alpha Phi, and most importantly, the best friend of Steve Rogers.

You’ve met James a few times here and there. During some of the varsity games. And passed him in the dorms sometimes. He never caused you any trouble. He even offered to help you move-in in your second year when he clearly saw you struggle push your luggage up the stairs.

You were just acquaintances.

You swallowed and timidly walked into the pristine room, surprised by its immaculate condition. “I certainly didn’t expect a frat president to have such a clean room,” you muttered, hearing James laugh at your comment as he closed the door.

“Well, I don’t work well in a messy environment,” he shrugged and walked closer, his gaze trailing over your corset. You backed up slightly at the intensity of his approach, making him huff a laugh. “I don’t bite, princess,” he said, his fingers grazing the edge of your corset.

He gently guided you to the adjoining bathroom. “I’ll have to wash it out a bit. So, if you don’t mind getting your tutu a little damp, princess…,” he led, waiting for your response. You shook your head, signalling it was fine. He nodded toward the counter, and you hopped onto it.

He wetted a towel and began dabbing it on your clothes. “So, what’s a timid thing like you doing at a fraternity party?” he whispered, his focus on cleaning up the stain. You glanced at his concentrated face before looking away. “What? Can’t a girl come to a party?” you replied, defensively, for some reason.

James chuckled, “Oh, a girl can come to a party. But you, you’re not that type of girl, princess.” You raised an eyebrow at him, puzzled by his statement. “I mean, you never come to parties in general. So why the sudden appearance?” He sighed and caged you between his arms.

You tensed, starting to stammer. “Well, I wanted to see someone,” you shrugged, looking down at your hands.

“Yeah?” James asked, his gaze piercing. “Who was the special guy?”

You looked up at him through your lashes, then quickly looked away. He used two fingers to tilt your face toward him. “Eyes on me, princess,” he said softly.

“Steve. I came to ask Steve out…,” you admitted, spilling your secret.

James looked at you with you look, you couldn’t decipher what it was. But you didn’t know what to feel about it. He looked into your eyes for so long, you started to tear up due to the lack of blinking.

“Steve…,” he dragged it, and it made you wonder why. But you didn’t question it.

He continued to dab the wet cloth to your clothes. “You didn’t have to do that you know… The, um, asking the guy to apologize to me,” you broke the silence, because you couldn’t take the stuffy air that was in between the both of you.

James shook his head and chuckled as he dabbed on your neckline. “If I didn’t my Ma would scold my ear off if she knew. And, besides, a pretty girl needs to be treated right.”

You’re breathing stops at that, and you looked up at him with a confused look. He smirked at your expression, “what?” You shook you head and asked him, “you think I’m pretty?”

James scoffed and nodded, “I would have to be blind if I didn’t think your stunning, princess.”

You didn’t realise but your lips and James’ were a hair breadths away. “James…,” you tried to start but James beat you to it, “Bucky, princess. Call me Bucky.”

You gulped and nodded.

“Bucky.”

He groaned at they way his named sounded on your tongue. “Princess, your killin’ me here,” he whispered more to himself than at you. His knuckles gripped onto the counter tight. “Please…,” he muttered.

“Pardon?” you didn’t catch what he said.

“Please let me kiss you.”

You froze, you didn’t know what to do.

You always thought Bucky was hot. Hotter than Steve, but you never had any classes with him to fully judge him. You were a hundred percent sure that if Bucky was your lab partner instead of Steve, you’d totally be crushing on Bucky instead.

And if that were the case, you’d be nodding your head like a mad man. Steve was taken, you were still recovering from that. Bucky, apparently, liked you. Liked you more than you thought he did.

You saw the way his gaze flickered from your eyes to you lips and back to your eyes. Your tongue darted out to wet your lips, and saw his pupils dilate at the movement.

“I-,” you started but your thoughts were washed away when you saw Bucky lick his lips too. You heart thuds in your chest as you feel like the whole world is dark and the spotlight is just on you with the way Bucky looks like you. There’s a small part of you that wanted to feel how his lips would feel against you.

So, you nodded.

Before you knew it, Bucky was standing between your legs and gripping your hips. He then pulled you close and smashed his lips on yours. You took a second to understand what was going on, but when your conscious did come back to you cupped his face and kissed him back.

He licked at your bottom lip asking your permission to open up your mouth and you allowed it immediately. Soon your tongues were dancing together, yours was meek and shy letting Bucky do all the taking over. You wrapped your arms around his neck and whimpers against his mouth, which just made him groan against you.

He moved his lips from your mouth to your jaw, then to your neck. You tilted your head to give him more access, and the more you let him the more your whimpers turn to moans.

He moves his hands all over your body, “this okay, princess?” He whispered against your skin, and you nodded fervently and grasped at his black cloak. You felt him palm at your chest, and you sighed and whispered a, “more, Bucky, please.” He nodded against your skin and moved his hands up your thighs and squeezes the flesh of your thighs.

You felt the heat pool between your things and squeezed them together. Bucky smirked and pushed them away, “nuh uh, none o’ that.” He got closer to you, and you wrapped your legs around his hips and chuckled. His hands moved to your inner thighs, and you gasped out, the wetness pooling more into your underwear.

You felt his knuckles brushed against your core and you whimpered and dropped your head against his shoulder. “Please, Bucky,” you muttered against his costume. Without any other word he ripped your tights at the centre and felt the wet path of white cotton.

“Oh princess, so wet f’me already?” Bucky snickered and you nodded at his question.  He rubbed his knuckles against your cunt’s lips and pressed his fingers harder when he heard your soft mewl. “You like it don’t you, princess?” To which you nodded again and whispered his name breathlessly.

He pushed your underwear aside and sunk his thick fingers in, and you whined at the intrusion. The sweet stretch felt better than your own meek fingers and soon Bucky was pumping his fingers in and out making your legs shake. “I’m not even rubbing your clit, princess. Your legs are already shaking,” he whispered roughly against your ear.  

His thumb started to rub at your clit and that’s when you lost your mind. You mewled and moaned his name as his fingers were rubbing that deep spot in you and his thumb playing with your button has you becoming a wailing mess. He bends down and started to attack your neck. “Fuck, Bucky. Please,” you cried out as you feel your impending orgasm start to build at your core.

Bucky roughly rubbed at your clit and within seconds your gushed around his fingers. You sighed and untensed your shoulders. Bucky brought his fingers to his mouth, closed his eyes and licked them clean. You whimpered at the sight.

You both leaned in and captured the other in a deep kiss, Bucky picked you up like you weighed nothing and exited the bathroom and walked until he placed you down on his bed.

He pulled the Ghostface mask down and leaned to tower over you. You bit your lip, and he chuckled, ��didn’t know princess was a bit freaky, hmm?” He unbuckled his belt under the cloak, and you took off your tutu and tossed it somewhere in his room.

When he managed to get his cock out of his pants, your eyes widened as the sheer size of him and then looked at him to see the small smirk that was painted on his lips. “Something wrong, princess?” You gulped and said, “it’s not gonna fit.”

Bucky chuckled and leaned over you once more and whispered into your ear, “we’ll make it fit, princess.” The tone he used made you shiver, and you gripped onto his shoulders and readied yourself. Bucky ran his shaft up and down you’re sit and you whined desperately.

“Bucky, please. I need you,” you squeezed your eyes shut and threw your head back. He tapped your cheek with two fingers and said, “eyes on me, princess.” And with that Bucky slowly pushed inside you. The stretch was so deliciously sweet and painful it made you lose your mind. You both gasped at the feeling of him moving further into you.

“Fuck, princess. You’re so tight,” he grits out as he starts to slowly thrust in and out of you. Your legs wrapped tightly around his waist and your nails raked down his back and he let out a deep moan which made goosebumps raise on your skin.

The sound of skin slapping on skin wasn’t’ as loud as your wails of Bucky’s name and moans. When the tip of him tapped against that spot in you, your eyes rolled to the back of your mind and you squealed, “Bucky right there, oh! Right there!”

Bucky grabbed a hold of the headboard and thrusted harder into you, aiming at that same spot and you felt tears run down the side of face in pleasure. “Fuck, princess. Gripping me like a vice,” he purses his lips as he knocked his hips against yours.

You felt the sheer length of him move in and out of you, your walls embraced him like he was meant to be there in the first place. “Attagirl. Take what I give you, yeah?” He huffed against your ear. The coarse patch of pubic hair that rested at the bottom of his happy trail, rubbed against your clit giving your that nice friction and it made you whine even more.

He pressed a hand against your abdomen and pressed down harder and it made the feeling even better. He saw how you reacted and pressed down harder, and you arched your back at the feeling. With that you felt the climax in you start to rise, “Bucky, I’m so close.” You whimpered as you watched the man wearing the Ghostface mask rut into you expertly.

He threw your legs over his shoulders and rutted into your harder, the band at your core bends and bends until it finally snapped and soon you were coming around Bucky’s cock.

Bucky groaned deeply at you squeezing him tightly, he pulled out and you whined at the loss of the feeling. He was fisting his length at the sight of you post orgasmic bliss and it looked so hot from your perspective. You quickly got on your knees and replaced Bucky’s hand with yours. “Fucking hell, princess,” he ran a hand through your hair and bunched it up at the back of your head. “That’s it, making me feel so good,” he sighed and threw his head back.

He groaned when you parted your lips, the mushroom head of his member inches away from your mouth. He tipped his head back, “fuck I’m so close.” And soon you felt his warm spent spill down your throat. Bucky moaned at the sight, and his chest reverberated deeply when he saw you swallow.

He pushed you down to lay on your back again and he then he laid next to you. You reached up and took of his Ghostface mask so you can his face. “That desperate to see my face? Hmm?” He smirked at your action. You shook your head and chuckled shyly, “maybe.”

Bucky reached up and caressed your face. “You know you’re really pretty right, princess?” You blushed at his comment, “buy me dinner first, Barnes.” Bucky chuckled and then nodded, “are you free this weekend?”

You froze, “you can’t be serious.”

“Well, I kinda am.”

“You are a piece of work James Barnes,”

“Should I take that as a, yes?”

You chuckled and shook your head; you gave him a soft smile.

“I’m taking that as a yes, princess.”

🎀🎀🎀

A fic posted during the midst of exam period?!

I would like to thank @buck-star for helping me with coming up with this idea!

This took a while and it's ALOT, but late night productivity hit me like a freight train haha.

I've one more exam in the next week and I'll be done!

Hope you lovelies liked this!

Lemme know what y'all think of the fic!

Till' then,

Stay Coquette-y,

Anya 🫶🏽🕊️🎀

[a-pute11as]

Softie - Alexia Putellas

warnings - none?

words - 1.3k

Game day was your favourite, the build up of emotions, the performance anxiety mixed with the joy you felt every time you stepped onto the pitch. Nothing could ever beat the highs you felt when playing the sport you loved so much. Today was one of those days, well it was meant to be, yet the difference was that a very discoloured and swollen ankle caused by a dodgy tackle during international break meant you’d be missing out. The Barca medical team had decided it would be best to miss out on the upcoming away game, advising you to stay home and focus on rehab for the couple of days that your teammates would be away. 

Alexia had always been overprotective, both as your captain and girlfriend, she always had your best interest at heart and wanting her squad at full fitness meant she was quick to agree with the medical advice, even if that meant a couple days of prolonged separation. At first she did try her best to figure out a way you could successfully rehab whilst traveling with your team, but given the amount of walking an away trip often endured and the crutches you were temporarily restricted to, she decided against it. 

“Lo siento mi amor, we both know it’s for the best” Alexia hummed, her hand pressed against her cheek as you were saying your goodbyes at the front door of the shared apartment. Your body half limped against the wall as your crutches had been abandoned next to the sofa in your bid to say a proper goodbye to Alexia.

“Can you change your mind? It’s not too late for me to pack some things” You muttered, leaning into her soft hand as her thumb rubbed back and forth along your cheek. 

“Cari, you know what my answer is” She whispered, planting a small kiss on your forehead, leaving you to mumble in defeat.

You said your goodbyes and Alexia was soon gone, leaving you alone with the lack of comfort from your favourite person.

The next few days were full of rehab at the training center, consistent check ins from your girlfriend and a couple of facetime calls when she didn’t believe that you were doing your at-home recovery, something that Alexia often had to bribe you into doing.

You were now more stable on your ankle, meaning you could get around without the reliance on your crutches, allowing you the extra freedom of moving as you pleased. Ale was due home in a couple of hours and you knew she’d be tired so you set about the task of tidying your apartment. It didn’t take too long but the slightly limp in your step did somewhat slow you down and drain extra energy. 

After finishing you were quick to take a shower and put on a change of clothes, consisting of a pair of Alexia’s Spanish national team shorts and her hoodie. Stumbling back towards the sofa, you planted yourself on it comfortably, waiting for the door to open to embrace the person you’d had been missing. 

It didn’t take long for you to adjust yourself into a comfier position whilst the time seemed to drag. You searched for a questionable English reality show, one that Ale would ridicule you for whenever you asked to watch it together, she never got the appeal of British humour yet it made you feel at home. Your phone pinged as you made another adjustment to your leg to seek some kind of peace from the discomfort of baring weight on it had caused. 

*amor - get some sleep, the plane has been delayed slightly so i will be late home and i know you’re tired already*

You furrowed your eyebrows at her suggestion of sleep, determined to greet her with wide eyes and a smile as soon as she entered the room. 

*you - ale i’m wide awake, i’ll be here when you’re up so you can tell me all about it*

In reality you already knew all about it, you had watched the match with Ellie, who was also kept back from traveling due to recovery, you had been receiving updates from both Patri and Pina about the ‘cute’ things Ale had said in passing conversations about you. As well as a message from Kiera asking if my girlfriend would ever not make up excuses for the time when we snuck away from a team celebration to cuddle. Her usual excuse was to blame it on me, but in reality she was tired after a big win and didn’t want to look too soft to the rest of the team. 

*incoming FaceTime call from amor*

“Hola cari” Alexia smiled, as the phone lit up your face.

“Hi babe, everything okay?” You smiled back, stifling a yawn that tried to expose your tiredness to your girlfriend. 

“Just thought I’d check in before the flight, make sure you’re as wide awake as you say you are” Her smile shifted into a smirk knowing exactly the type of person you were. 

“No confias en mi, amor?” You questioned, tilting your head to the side, teasing her intentions. 

“No cariño, confío en ti, pero siempre estás cansada y siempre te quejas." She responded, mocking your head tilt with similar teasing intentions. 

“Ale who’s that?” Patri said, peering her head into the screen, a smile appearing on her face as she realised who it was, “It’s lover girl!” She added, using the nickname she had given you when you first let her know about your relationship. She was quick to take the phone from Alexia’s han for herself. 

“Patri, give her the phone back” You laughed, knowing she had every intention of causing some kind of trouble.

“No, venga, say hello to everyone” She held the phone up, announcing your presence causing you to wave at your teammates that had now focused their attention on the phone.

“Are you staying up to give your girlfriend a goodnight kiss?” Pina laughed, as she began to blow kisses towards the phone.

“Oye, dámelo” Alexia said, standing as she grabbed the phone from Patri’s hand swiftly, “The flight is boarding now amor, go to sleep”. You mumbled in response before saying your goodbyes and hanging up.

Even though you were determined to stay awake, it didn’t take long for your eyes to grow heavy as the comfort from Alexia’s borrowed clothes took over your senses.

“Mi amor, wake up” Alexia cooed, her hand running through your hair to stir you through your sleep.

Your only response was a few very tired grumbles as your eyes opened to the sight you’d been waiting for. It took a couple of seconds for you to realise what was going on before a sleepy smile overtook your face.

“Ale, you’re home” You smiled, pushing yourself up off the sofa and wrapping your arms around her quickly.

“Si, I thought you weren’t tired huh?” She laughed, placing a kiss on the top of your head. 

“It was an accidenttttt” You whined, “I got comfy in your clothes and they smelt like you so it made me tired”. 

“Oh nena, vamos a la cama” She suggested, taking hold of my hand and leading me towards our bedroom. 

“I’m not even tired amor” You announced, as if there was any use convincing her that you were telling the truth. 

Within 5 minutes both you and Alexia were settled in bed, your head resting on her chest as her fingers made their way through your hair slowly. Your hands ran up and down her chest as you both sleepily talked through how you spent your days and the parts you missed each other the most.

“Patri and Pina didn’t stop teasing me about you staying awake for me to get home” Alexia laughed slightly, “They don’t think I’m tough anymore”.

You sleepily laughed in response, “You’re a massive softie, I think they already knew that”. 

a/n - not sure how i feel about this one, so v sorry if its a lil shit x

[menacingpolkamusic]

I think many women and queer people fall into the trap of treating men nearest to them as a stand-in for the patriarchy they truly hate, because the men closest to them can actually be hurt. The alt-righters threatening to rape them can't.

Unless you're like, Catholic and/or really want to, you're not required to love someone who hates you. I'm sure there's a different strategy to getting through to that person, and that's probably something male allies should take on.

But as for men who truly want to be allies but are intimidated because of women's frustrations (no matter how valid!), such as this man on the Chewed Gum show asking how to model positive masculinity + his feelings on the man/bear question, Alyssa Ljub had a great response (abridged version):

[[READMORE]]

[...] My brother [...] struggled a lot with being a very like sensitive, emotional kind of guy and that manifested as being angry and defensive when he was a teenager and through his more younger adult years, now he's 32 and a full adult and he's really understanding that what he's wanting to express is a more full range of emotions, but he didn't feel comfortable doing that because he was falling into that same mental pattern of that's not manly, men don't cry [...]

In the process of writing the TED Talk, I had given it to my brother to read and he went over it and [...] he encouraged me to look at it again and every time I referred to these like really atrocious things that had happened to women throughout time [...] he encouraged me to look at it and really consider [...] is "man" the word that I want to use, is it because men did this or is it the patriarchy, is it this system that we've created.

And at the end of the day, he was right because we all are victims of this same mentality, like this patriarchal mind space is the reason why [...] you are not super comfortable expressing a full range of emotions or it took you a long time to get there, similarly with my brother and similarly with how we all [choose the] bear and then we have a hard time understanding how men can't see it.

It's all the same system, it's the same machine and so there's a part of me that's always sort of like, it feels good to join in other voices that are able to say "bear and fuck the men who don't understand and that's not my job to teach them" and blah, blah, blah, like there's part of it that will always feel like turning the knife and it feels good for that moment but that's not actually a productive conversation and [...] that's not helping anybody.

And so the other part of it is, okay, [...] we're in this dialogue and [...] oh my gosh, men don't actually see it, they don't really understand why we feel that way and if they can't really understand it and they're in the same system that we are, it kind of is our responsibility to explain because if we don't, we're leaving them to their own devices to figure it out and when they're left to their own devices, they're at the hands of the same system that's telling them to shut down their emotions, be defensive and ignore what we're describing as physical risk that we feel with with strange men and that's not helpful, that's not helping anybody grow.

And so it's frustrating to some women, [...] "I shouldn't have to explain that" and I 100% get that, that's so valid but I think in this conversation, when we talk about how we move forward from how we have pushed men into being a specific type of person that is fitting into [...] this prototype [of] being really tough and minimizing emotions and unable to be vulnerable so that they can appear strong, when we've put men into that space, what pulls them out of it is vulnerability and softness and care and saying it's actually okay for you to want to be emotional in this time and it's actually completely okay that you're hearing this argument where people are saying bear over and over and you're like, "what the hell, I worked so hard to be the kind of man that people would be comfortable around and [...] I worked so hard to undo everything that I was inundated with as a child, like, and you still said bear?"

[...] I would encourage anybody who's listening who has that reaction of like, "I don't want to have to explain it to people. And if they don't get it, that's on them." I would encourage them to also consider how productive that conversation is. And if you, in that very moment, wanted to be productive. Sometimes we're like, "this is not worth it, I don't feel like having this conversation," whatever, that's fine [...]

I feel like that's the biggest thing that is inhibited for so many men in this system. They're not given the permission to feel everything that they want to feel and have a safe space where there might be an adult or a therapist, whatever, whoever is around them to say, "it's okay that you feel that way. And at the same time, the reason why women are saying bear is because even though you're a safe space, the information that we have, the statistics that we have about how many men are not is enough to make me say bear."

[...]

But I think at least in the way that I've experienced this conversation, especially with someone close to me, like my brother, where I've grown up with him obviously, and I've known him my whole life and seeing what made the biggest difference for him was allowing him to feel vulnerable and feel the full range of his emotions and actually process them through. Like actually see [...] "these are all the things I'm feeling and this is how we're gonna resolve it. And now I've learned something because I've actually resolved this feeling."

I couldn't have said it better myself.

[dollarbils]

aftercare | b.e.

billie eilish x fem!reader

masterlist

when she’s got you shaking, your thighs aching from her rough thrusts. your hair in a mess from when she’d been tugging it. your cheeks wet with tears, eyes still glossy from your previous frustration. your mouth dry from the cries of your release. taking care of you isn’t even a question.

“let me get you a towel, love.” she’d leave you, but only for a moment, to retrieve a hot towel, a glass of water, anything you could possibly need. and she’d do everything for you; wiping down your thighs, leaving kisses as she did so, brushing your hair, bringing the cup of water to your lips-

“i can drink goddamn water by myself billie.” the both of you erupted in laughter. and besides the euphoria of your moments of passion, this was the real pleasure. laughing and giggling. hugging and cuddling. talking and chatting.

“i love you, baby.” she’d repeat countless times, completely contrasting to the slutty names she’d called you just a few minutes ago. and though she truly meant it when she’d call you her fucking slut, her needy whore, her little brat, it would never stray from the fact she loved you. as her sweetheart or as her bitch. she made sure you knew you were loved.

“i love you too.” that was all she needed to hear from you, it eased all her stress and all her worries. she knew that she’d be okay as long as she had this one certainty. you loved her, she loved you. and although she loved the sex.

it was the aftercare that truly mattered.

[balrogballs]

I'm still sad about this heartwarming and mildly amusing little section where feral adolescent Aragorn brings some joy to Maedhros in his unhinged little way, which I had to cut out of Cast in Stone for structural reasons, especially as I had gone to the trouble of illustrating it!

But I realised it reads perfectly fine standalone, so you guys can have my crumb of Maedhros-joy instead. No context required: Maedhros and Maglor are temporarily staying in the Shire during the late Third Age, Maedhros had a horrible night of traumatic dreams and was being maudlin — until young Aragorn, aka Elros II and the bane of his life, turns up like a bad penny, as he often does. Enjoy!

---

"You look unhappy," said Estel, sitting down before Maedhros, legs crossed. "Does your hand hurt? Surely it can't be as bad as when it got chopped off, can it?"

"No, but leave me be, Estel, I have —"

"All right, but let me ask just one question. I promise, then I'll go away. I just remembered something from my lessons, and every time I ask Ada he looks up at the sky and asks the Valar where he went wrong in raising me," Estel moved closer, looking around for eavesdroppers. "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to. But I would like to know."

Maedhros frowned, swallowed the lump in his throat and dragged in a breath. "What?"

"Fingon rescued you on one of those enormous eagles, didn't he? On that mountain with Morgoth and all of that. It was one of those, right? Manwë's Eagles."

"Yes. He did. I do not wish to answer any further questions on the matter, clear off."

"And it was quite a long journey, wasn't it?"

Maedhros grunted.

"I've always had a question about it… and again, you don't have to tell me if it's too traumatising," Estel's eyes shone, as though he were about to hear a state secret. "And I promise I won't tell anyone."

"Spit it out, boy, or leave me now. I am in the mood for neither company nor memory."

"Did it… you know…?"

"If you're trying to ask me if losing the hand hurt, yes it did," Maedhros snapped. "Now leave me alone, I've had enough reminiscing for a damned century. Get off home, now!"

"Oh, shut up, I wasn't asking about your stupid hand, I don't understand why you think everyone sits around thinking about your hand," Estel scowled, pursuing his lips, before deciding his quest for scientific knowledge was more important than whatever had crawled up Maedhros' arsehole and died. He widened his eyes conspiratorily, looked around again. "My question has nothing to do with that! I just wanted to know, did the eagle… you know?"

"Estel, I am not going to repeat this, get out of my sight right this —"

"Did it take a shit?"

"Did… what?"

"Did it take a shit?" Estel flushed as he said the word, Elrond's parental touch finally taking hold, though in a predictably useless manner. "And if it did, how big was it? As in, was it normal bird crap, or was it, you know — like a bucketload of it?"

Maedhros blinked. Estel held his hands out to demonstrate.

"I've always wanted to know that about them, you know," the boy continued, stroking his chin like a philosopher. "Manwe's eagles, that is. Surely if they're big enough to carry two people, one being a towering beast like you, their droppings must be massive."

"What…?" Maedhros couldn't formulate words, a state of being Estel clearly had no familiarity with. "Their… what?"

"And yes, I know they're divine, all of that, but surely they can't be toilet trained, can they? I just don't see Manwë having enough time to toilet train an eagle, you know. Could you imagine just… going about your day, and having this massive tub of birdshite fall on your head? Oh, it could drown a person, I'm sure of it!" Estel grinned, as if said occurrence would be the best day of his life, had it happened to him. "So, did it? And if it did, did you see if it went on someone?"

Maedhros sat there blinking at the boy in complete silence before rising quietly, taking the now-extremely-familiar ear, and slowly — like he were a corpse — leading Estel to the village gate. He didn't say a word, only gestured weakly and put up three fingers, a signal the now sulky boy was very used to.

And as Estel, muttering darkly all the while, neared the completion of his first punishment-lap of three around the village green, he heard something that sounded like a donkey in immense pain. It was a sound so tremendous and unexpected that it brought Maglor running from the house, gaping at the source, having not heard such a thing in centuries. It was no donkey, but Maedhros in complete hysterics, sitting on the ground exactly where he was when he beckoned Estel to run, sobbing with laughter, actual tears pouring down his face, which itself was screwed up and flushed so pink he looked like he'd been badly sunburned. He was trying to explain the situation to Maglor (who had been glaring at Estel as if he had personally killed his brother, and now looked upon him like he was Iluvatar himself) but Maedhros was howling too hard to even stand, let alone form coherent words.

Estel pretended not to notice, and started on his second lap. Though objectively speaking, the laugh itself sounded like something between a foghorn, a pig and whatever noise he imagined Ungoliant would make — there was something rather lovely about it that brought an inexplicable little smile to his face.

[nyashykyunnie]

˗ˏˋ Entry : 046 - Jinwoo x Fem! Reader ◛⑅·˚ ༘ ♡ ˎˊ˗

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚𝕊𝕦𝕟𝕘 𝕁𝕚𝕟𝕨𝕠𝕠˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

╰┈➤ ❝ [ All of Him ] ¡! ❞

His Hands

Long and slender fingers who would never dare to harm your precious body and only aims to ever pamper and care for you. His lingering touches would always feel slightly ticklish as it ghosts over your delicate skin. 

Jinwoo would never dare lift a heavy hand on you.

Hell, he would rather cut his limbs off than ever dare to imagine it.

His hands will never fail to caress your face, his thumb swiping affectionately across your fluffy cheek. 

Jinwoo would always offer his hand to you wherever you two may be. He just can’t get enough of you really.

And maybe it’s also because he has developed separation anxiety over the years of spending his time in the gates fighting wars against the monarchs and the beasts they have summoned to attempt making him submit to them.

So really, how could he not cherish you after spending almost decades being battered in a bloody hellscape? 

Jinwoo wants nothing more than to pamper and care for you with his hands.

Hands that have ended many but will always, always, be gentle for you and you only.

His Eyes

Oh his eyes, those charming grey eyes of his.

They would look at you like you’re the only existence that would ever matter in this godforsaken world.

His foes recognize him with the familiar blazing lilac in his eyes. Once they see that color, they know their existence will undoubtedly disappear from this world or maybe they will be turned into one of his abominations.

With everyone else, he was always a cold and stoic person, the warmth that he had once disappeared overtime with his growth as a player. Everyone around him would always be afraid of his eyes. They say that when they look at him it’s akin to staring directly at the abyss.

Hence why people would always avoid looking at him.

But with you?

With you, it’s different.

He wouldn’t have a hint of lilac in his eyes.

Lilac is the shadow monarch.

Grey is Sung Jinwoo.

Grey is your Jinwoo.

As long as you’re in his sight, everything is beautiful.

Though this world is littered by cruelty and unsightliness, Jinwoo forgets all of it the moment you are in view.

He looks at you as his goddess.

Everything that you are and will ever do is beautiful. There’s really nothing he could say or think to describe anything else.

So long as you are here, everything is seen through rose-colored lenses.

When Jinwoo looks at you, the emptiness and sadness in his weary heart would disappear in an instant. He wishes that he can just spend every waking moment by your side and overlooking you as you did usual menial activities. Everything that you do is extremely adorable to him after all.

He just can’t help it, he can’t help but love you. 

His Arms

Strong and firm, his arms have ended a lot of his foes brutally. But to you?

They're your safe haven.

When everything gets too cold, you can always count on Jinwoo to embrace you and share his warmth with you.

When the world becomes too overwhelming, you hide in his arms that doesn't question you and would immediately sheler you into safety.

Jinwoo would always cradle you into his loving arms.

He in fact loves it the most when you're tucked into his embrace. He gets to pamper you with so much affection.

Though he would always be mindful and make sure he doesnt squeeze you too much.

The strength of the shadow monarch isn't one to be trifled with.

So he, who loves you more than anything else in the world— Wishes nothing more than to make sure you are safe and sound in his embrace.

His Body

Tall, dark and handsome.

Jinwoo's frame is something he honed to perfection to complement his role as the shadow monarch.

He is powerful and imposing.

His figure sends a shiver on anyone's body the moment he is on sight.

Lanky may he be, but he is the perfect vessel for war. He trained himself to the absolute limits.

And his skin shows proof of it all.

Burn scars from the late monarch Antares.

Multiple and giant scars that prove his decades of war.

Oh but to you?

He uses it to care for you.

He'd use his exceptional strenght to carry gifts for you or carry all the luggage he has undoutebly forced you to accept during your many, many shopping sprees.

Honestly he does it so often that you completely forget that he is actually a man that ended monarchs and demons alike. In your eyes? He is just someone who enjoys being of service to you.

Jinwoo's towering figure would always make you feel extremely small, but not to the point he makes you feel afraid.

You know this man better than anythign else, he also wishes to use himself as a shield for everything else that dares to try and harm you.

He'd always lift you up in his arms and pull your face into the crook of his neck.

When he does that, you know better than to lift your head up and dare to look at anywhere else. When Jinwoo does that, it means that he made quite the scene with someone who dared to disrespect you in front of his eyes.

You pretty eyes are only meant to see pretty things.

And Sung Jinwoo is dead set on making sure of that.

His Lips

Those sweet, pink and thin lips of his.

Lips that open to praise you like you're a precious flower.

Lips that could never get enough of you when he peppers you with loving pecks and kisses.

Jinwoo's normally empty and harsh words would morph into tender ones. As if he has a language made to be used for you only.

His kisses are feathery light, aiming to kiss every inch of you. From your forehead, to your cheeks, to the corners of your lips, to your collarbone and your delicate digits.

Jinwoo is never good with his words, but he makes up for it with his delicate pecks.

He will never go by 2 minutes without kissing you somewhere whether it was a gentle one or one where he's utterly frustrated with how cute you are that he can't help himself.

He'd be in a sour mood if he goes by a day without your kisses.

The first time it happened it was a complete hellday for his coworkers since he was exceptionally prissy that day.

So Jinwoo makes sure to shower you with loving pecks before he is off to work.

On his Knee

As the shadow monarch, he makes everyone around him grovel to the ground. His existence itself exudes regality that they'd instinctively be on their kness.

You're an exception though.

The same man who makes every being around him beg for mercy and ultimately lower themselves into nothing more than isignificant beings; the same man who has humbled the monarchs into nothing more than a pile of ashes and bones—

He will be down on one knee for you.

"Sarang, you know what this means, don't you?" He says in a tender voice when he lowered himself down to the ground.

In this paradise that he takes you to every once in a while, the secret garden he built himself by turning a dying island into a lush forest with flowers all around you both— Jinwoo is down on one knee in this very place that is for you and you only.

"I'm not good with words hahah, I might screw up the atmosphere with how flimsy and stupid I am with confessing my feelings," He chuckles softly, taking out a small velvet box and opening it to reveal a golden band with a gleaming gem on it. "But know that I will do anything for you."

"Do you want the world at your knees? I can do that. But knowing how kind and selfless you are, I know you wont let me do such a thing. Still, I want you to know that all that I am and all that I'll ever be is yours. I love you. More than anything in this world. I don't know how I can show you how completely and utterly devoted I am to you. If you want to use me as a bridge to get you to where you want to be, so be it. If you want to use me as the stepping stone to reach your dreams, then I'll let you use me however you want."

"Just know that I love you so much."

In those grey eyes you can see a blaze that will only be there when it's looking towards you, a fire that will only burn for you.

This man is willing to dance atop the flames if it means to make you happy.

Jinwoo would let himself burn for you.

"I don't really need anything fancy" You tearfully smile, extending a hand to him to which he gently takes. "I just want to spend my life with you and the next ones."

"Then we will." Jinwoo cooes as he slips the ring onto your finger and brings it up to his lips to kiss it, now murmuring against your soft skin "In every lifetime I'll find you, fall in love with you, and marry you. I want to be your husband and be the father to your children."

"Just as long as you're in my reach, I am capable of doing anything."

꒰ 🪼 A/N: We're so back now my precious guppies. I hope you guys like my new layout too since it's simpler and easier for our eyes now www. It's still my branding style so xDD!!! I just switched up a few elements here andStarting out slow and steady with a Jinwoo proposal fic because I love my hubby. ꒱

ʚ(੭´͈ ᐜ `͈)੭ .｡✧: ~♡ —! stories written by kyunnie; translations, reposts, plagiarism are strictly forbidden.

[elliottkay]

When I enlisted in the Coast Guard in 1993, Don't Ask Don't Tell was brand new. My enlistment papers still had the old "homosexual activity" questions crossed out in Sharpie. That's all dead and buried now. It's history.

I grew up in the Satanic Panic. Actual, legal adults worried about the sanity and immortal souls of kids because we played Dungeons & Dragons. This summer, 2024, I bought literal actual official D&D US Postage Stamps. We went from "omg threat to children" to normal enough to be a fucking stamp.

People—assholes—have been crying about "political correctness" all my life. PC was never really about anything more than maybe treating people with some basic respect, and y'know what? Despite all the conservative tears, it DID move the dial on how people talk. It fucking mattered. It still matters.

And green energy is happening whether some assholes in government like it or not. It's getting cheaper and it's spreading and fossil fuels look like a worse long-term investment all the time, regardless of who's in the White House.

Things do get better. The world has always been rough, and many things will continue to be rough. But in spite of that, many things are way better than they used to be, and they'll keep getting better no matter how many rich and bigoted assholes throw tantrums about it.

Has anything actually gotten better, for all the work you talk about doing? Or is it just treading water in misery forever?

Anon, ten years ago gay people couldn't get married in large parts of the US. AIDS was an almost certain death sentence when I was in high school. I was looking at job boards the other day and found a part time gas station job that had health insurance as a benefit, which NEVER would have happened 15 years ago. When I was a kid, hitting your child was extremely normalized in the US and my parents were the weird ones for not doing it. There is a vaccine for chicken pox. I didn't meet anyone who had transitioned until my 20s because it was so uncommon to transition in the aughts, and now there are some states that protect your right to have gender affirming care provided by your health insurance. It's not all states, but it's better than the number of states that had it in 2010, which was zero. THERE ARE TENANTS UNIONS NOW. WE HAVE A VACCINE AGAINST CERVICAL CANCER.

And all of that has been the work of a lot of individuals and organizations and research teams and activists.

[hitomisuzuya]

Secret admirer+neighbour reader that allows Scara to stay over in her room whenever shit gets rowdy at his home for whatever reason. She leaves letters of encouragement in his locker and snacks and stuff. He found it stupid at first but gave up 'reluctantly'.

But like, pls, he knows it's her. The way she looks at him, hopefully, every time he scowls a certain way, he gets a more expensive snack (within the budget of a little middle-class lady, of course), and he starts liking her a bit too...

And anyway, they get into a cute little confrontation when she cares about him a little too much, with a bit too much honesty with the cutest outfit and he's turned on and- you get the idea.

Please, praise kink. Praise my hubby🥺🥺 maybe a bit of degrading from him.

scaramouche x fem!reader. smut. porn with some plot. fluff. degradation. praise for scara. cunnilingus. for narrative purposes, college has lockers for people who live off campus.

i grinned when i read this ask. legit scaramouche would fall in love kicking and screaming reluctantly about it the whole time🤣 this is a little long.

if scaramouche had it his way, he would've chosen to live on campus at the dorms. but no, being so close to the college made his bitch mother suggest he might be more comfortable just living at home. incidentally, it was over just that issue that you meant scaramouche officially for the first time.

you swore he slammed the door loud enough to rattle to every window of his house. and yours. naturally, it startled you, being out on the porch looking at the orange and purple painted clouds of the sunset. you'd seen him around campus before, but social anxiety often came into play. and he sort of treated you like a nuisance when you tried to talk to him.

"you okay?" you asked, giving him a soft look of concern.

"huh? do you need something?" scaramouche snapped, glaring at you in a way that would've made anyone instantly fuck off.

anyone wasn't you, though. "no, it just sounds like you were fighting with someone," you replied, his glare making your cheeks flush.

"yeah, bitch mother," it was like he didn't want to dedicate the extra few seconds of time to string together a longer sentence to mention her in.

"you can come hang out with me in my room for awhile until things cool down. no one is home right now but me," you said shyly, playing with your hair in an annoying way he absolutely couldn't miss.

"uh, sure. yeah whatever, gimme a few minutes," scaramouche grumbled, turning to go back inside the house. back inside to tell his mother to fuck off one more time. he was automatically suspicious. why were you offering? what did you stand to gain from it?

he thought about these questions while he unplugged (ripped the cords out of the outlet) his xbox, and slammed the door again. threw the door to your house open, and sort of stomped up the stairs. he promptly hooked his xbox up to your tv like he was automatically entitled to it.

but you didn't mind. scaramouche always made you feel weak in the knees. you even got him to tell you what he wanted for dinner so you could make it for him.

this became almost something of a daily occurrence. an occurrence that scaramouche was startled to find how comfortable he was becoming with.

you sure are a strange one. you even sat and watched him play video games late into the night, monopolizing your tv and not really giving a shit if there was something you wanted to watch. you never said a thing if there was. dvrs exist, after all. you would cheer him on and praise him when he was playing good. you looked stuff up on your phone to help him if he got stuck on a part somewhere.

you would remind him about tests tomorrow. he told you whatever and ended up not studying. he didn't really need to honestly. thing is, though, you started leaving notes of encouragement tucked into his folders or notebooks. or left them in his locker with some sort of disgusting sweet treat. "for you to enjoy now or later. it's up to you. good luck today."

he thought it was incredibly stupid. what could you possibly gain from this nonsense? "i don't like sweets," he said, tossing a baggie of oreos on your desk. "disgusting. absolutely no thanks."

your posture stiffened a little, like you'd just been caught red handed doing something secretive. in a way, you had been. "wh-what are you talking about?" you stammered shyly, "who left you those?" you paused for a moment, twisting lock of hair around your index finger. "incidentally, what would you want for something like that?"

scaramouche almost snorted. god, you are so transparent. he knew it was you, but you are still trying to play it off like it wasn't, fidgeting nervously with your fingers. it was disgustingly adorable so he let you carry on with it in his own way. stop it.

"salted rice balls with sea weed in the middle. i like those, not the toxic waste that is chocolate. or rather horse shit," he replied, rolling his eyes.

sure enough, a few days later, salted white rice balls with seaweed in the middle appeared in his locker the next morning. "please, eat these. sorry about before. you try so hard and deserve a good treat."

fuck, fuck, fuck!

he was starting to tuck your notes into his pockets to keep with him throughout the day. some of the snacks you make him looked expensive. and you were the type to buy the ingredients and hand make them yourself. you had to have been getting up super early in the morning to make them or staying up late the night before.

and every time he called you out on it, you shyly played it off. even joking with him about him having a secret admirer, though he swore you looked a little sad at the thought of someone else liking him like you weren't talking about yourself.

even worse, scaramouche started looking at you and thinking; shit, she looks really cute today. those are thigh highs she's wearing cup her thighs perfectly. it makes me wanna..

he'd had enough when he started jacking himself off after he left your house for the night. thinking of you, the innocent girl next door who doted on him and gave him attention. who is way too sweet for her own good. with this stupid crush on him that you refused to say anything about.

how dare you make him fall in love.

you started wearing thigh highs when he mentioned casually he likes them, tempting him with a garter belt. a garter that his eyes strained to casually get a peek at if the pleats of your skirt bounced in just the right way.

he caught you on your way out the door to go the convenience/grocery store that stayed open all night, a list of ingredients and a recipe in your hand to read on the way.

"why do you do this nonsense?" scaramouche asked, snatching the slip of paper out of your hand. he couldn't help but smirk. just like he thought, there was a recipe for rice balls with eel in them and miso soup. you were even going to stop by the coffee shop and get his favorite coffee.

...

fucking hell, you are way too sweet for your own good but damn it, he enjoyed soaking up every bit of your attention now. his bitch mother even "accused" him of dating someone a few days ago. the nerve!

"i..i." you stammered shyly in a way that made him want to kiss you. really really badly. you knew you were caught. "was i that obvious?"

scaramouche snorted. "you are so obvious that you could've landed plane without waving your arms. it was actually a little pathetic," he sighed seeing your reaction. why did you do that? why did your cheeks flush when he flat out insulted you?

and that was how you ended up on your back on his bed, your legs spread and stripped almost entirely of your clothes as he crawled between your legs. "these stay on," he insisted, hooking his finger under the top of your thigh high, letting it snap back on your thigh. he'd angrily kissed you all the way up to his room, pawing at your clothes and swallowing your moans into his mouth.

you always took care of him in your room. and now he was taking care of you properly in his room. it was a chore to fight his pride, anyways. and he didn't want to fight it anymore.

having his hands holding your thighs apart while he licked slow, hungry stripes up and down your pussy was much more preferable. "desperation is good color on you, slut," he groaned, teasingly kitten licking your clit before sweeping it down to swirl around your hole. youclenched on the tip of his tongue like he imagined that you would.

"i..i can't help it," you moan shakily, squirming as you grind on his mouth, "i'm sorry. i'm so in love you with it hurts. i just..just," you are cut off when scaramouche latched his lips around your clit, letting out a gasp of pleasure. your clit tingled and throbbed as he sucked, prodding and swirling his tongue in a way that made a dizzying warmth spread through your core. "i wanted your attention."

you sound so fucking cute it made his cock ache almost painfully. did you have any idea how unbearable you made it all the fucking time? "i saw right through your pathetic attempts to woe me. praise me more, slut. it's making me hard," he groaned, drunk on the taste on your pussy soaking his tongue.

he held your pussy against his mouth as you grinded on his tongue, your fingers finding his hair and pushing his mouth down. "you are perfect, scara!" you cry out, your clit throbbing twice as hard underneath his tongue. "your tongue feels so good! you are all i ever think about!"

he could edge himself on your words praise, soaking up every word. "go on. keep going while i tongue fuck you," he moaned, focusing his tongue on your clit again.

his tongue working your pussy over like a starved animal was making you start to babble nonsense. "your so smart, and handsome and strong. your fingers are beautiful, so beautiful i want to suck on them. don't stop, please. please," you have the cutest sounding whimpers when the jolts of pleasure rocketing through you were too much for you to process.

your precious babbling spurred scaramouche's tongue on, one hand reluctantly leaving your thigh to palm and rub his cock outside his jeans. you deserve to cum hard on his tongue for sounding so sweet.

you twitch and spasm in bliss, tugging urgently on his hair. your hips bucked up to rub and grind on his mouth. you writhed on the bed, relaxing into his possessive squeeze on your thighs. it wasn't long before you couldn't keep it together anymore. or at least as together as you thought you had it. you'd broken on his tongue a long time ago.

you whimper weakly behind your shameless moans, your thighs shaking as your orgasm washed over you. it was so strong it nearly even made your fingers fall limp in his hair. his tongue lovingly fucked you through your orgasm until you were panting and shaking on the cusps of overstimulation. he lapped at your release.

"i think i found the only sweet i will enjoy," satisfied, he sat up and wiped his mouth. you are practically passed out on his bed, exhausted and overloaded. neither of you were making it to your evening classes. he planned to spend that time further devouring you once he let you sleep a little.

[maybanksprincess]

size kink pt 2!

warnings: mean!jj, smut, rough sex, size kink, mild slapping, finger sucking, daddy kink, neck biting, choking, allusions to aftercare

pairings: mean!dom!jj x thick!reader

requested by @jjmaybankssurfergf i hope you like it sweetheart 💋 (meaner jj has me feral😩)

it was 12:06 at midnight, everyone in the chateau was asleep, but jj just had to get his hands on you. he pushed you down onto the bed of one of the empty rooms, and pinned ur wrists above your head.

his other hand worked to pull your lacy panties off. his grip on your wrists still remaining firm. when he gets them off, he shoves them in your mouth to muffle any protests.

he pulls his cargo shorts and dark blue boxers off, tossing them off to the side. he slaps his hard, girthy cock against your clit, causing you to shudder.

he teases your folds for a moment, before thrusting his cock in slowly. he grabs the back of your plushy thighs and pushes them up to your chest so he can get in deeper.

he leans down and bites your neck to muffle his own groans, he sees some drool trickling down your chin from around the panties, and he yanks them out of your mouth, replacing them with his fingers.

when you gag around his veiny fingers, his dick twitches slightly inside of you.

"dont make a fuckin' sound." he whispers in your ear lowly, before slamming into you roughly, his balls hitting your ass with every harsh thrust.

you try your hardest not to make noise and to be good, because you knew what would happen if you disobeyed him in this moment.

you try to speak around his fingers, earning a slap on your cheek from jj, the sting only doubling your pleasure.

"what did i jus' say, hm? be quiet baby. you dont want daddy to punish you, do you?" he emphasizes his words by, shoving his fingers farther down, making you gag and cough.

when he doesnt get a response, he slaps you again, a little rougher this time. "do you?" he repeats, his words more firm.

you shake your head quickly and mumble a "no." around his fingers, trying not to choke.

jj speeds up, pulling his fingers out your mouth to squeeze your throat. "no what?" he questions.

when you look up at him, you dont see those pretty ocean eyes, you see them replaced with dark blue, lustful eyes.

"n-no daddy." you cough out, your voice raspy and broken from the impact of his fingers and the ringed hand around your throat.

"thats exactly what i thought baby." he says, then removes his hand from around your throat, giving you a second to breathe before shoving three fingers down your throat this time.

he looks down at the big buldge his making between your pretty thighs.

"yur' gonna shut that pretty little mouth f' me, and cum around my dick. can you do that for daddy?" the last part of his sentences has a underlying tone of teasing to them.

"yes daddy." you moan around his fingers. but his pace never falters, he keeps rutting into you, moving your feet on his shoulders, and moving his hand from your plushy thighs to rub your clit as he keeps slamming into you.

"mm look at her squeezin' my cock like that. looks like shes turned on by daddy bein' mean, hm?" he adds with a smirk.

he chuckles darkly, as he watches you still whimper lowly around his fingers. not long after, the band in your stomach snaps, all the pressure leaving your body, and soaking his cock.

he leans down and bites your neck to muffle his groans as he cums inside you. little "mm"s and "ahh"s vibrate against your neck, for a few moments before he pulls out of you with a pop.

he pulls his fingers out of your mouth and admires the fucked out look on your face. the mascara dripping down your squishy cheeks almost makes his cock stir to life again, but he refrains himself.

he squeezes your thigh, and presses a firm kiss to it before getting up. "cmon sweetheart, lets get you cleaned up. maybe ill give you a reward for being so good and quiet for daddy."