#and how up to a point in time they were one in the same

[minarisplaything]

Flights (And) Feelings

pairing: Karina (Aespa) x Male Reader summary: just a quickie that was originally inspired by the airport photos when they first dropped, nothing crazy. tags: public/semi-public blowjobs word count: 2k

“Attention, passengers! We are now boarding flight 452 to Seoul. We kindly ask all passengers with priority boarding to begin boarding at this time. Please have your boarding passes ready and enjoy your flight. Thank you!”

"Isn't that your flight?" you asked.

The hand that was pulling you towards the bathrooms didn't stop. Instead she threw you a reassuring look over her shoulder. The sparkle in her eye behind her rimmed glasses suggested that she was no stranger to sneaking off.

"It'll be fine. Besides, I have Aeri to cover for me."

You weave your way through the airport unimpeded. A few people do a double take, as if to confirm that Karina from Aespa had just hurried past them, but by the time they had realized it, the two of you were already gone.

You briefly wondered how much Aeri knew about this but you had little time to linger on the thought. Before you knew it you were being shoved into a bathroom stall with the door locked as Karina joined you.

"Are we really doing this?" you asked, feeling just a bit paranoid.

"And wait until we get back to Seoul? I don't know when I'll have free time again," Karina reminded you, her hands already moving to your belt buckle.

"You've got a point there..."

"Plus, it's exciting right?" she smiled up at you, her nose brushing against yours. Sometimes you forgot how both goofy and filthy Karina could be at the same time. Though, if you needed a reminder it came in the form of her fingers curling around your cock. She gave you a few testing pumps.

"I think you've got your answer," you joked.

Her smile widened as she finished shoving down your pants and boxers.

"We have to be quick," she said.

"I thought you said you had time?"

"Are you questioning me wanting to suck your cock sooner?"

"Well, when you put it like that I sound silly..."

She smiled as she leaned up on her tiptoes, pressing a brief kiss to your lips.

"I like silly. Just try not to get too loud."

Karina’s hands left your waist for a moment, and you watched as she grabbed a handful of tissue paper from the dispenser. She knelt down, spreading the paper carefully on the floor like she was preparing a makeshift altar.

The fluorescent light above flickered slightly, casting a faint buzz that mingled with the hum of the airport outside. You could hear the distant echo of boarding announcements, the muffled chatter of passengers, and the occasional squeak of rolling luggage. But here, in this cramped stall, the world felt impossibly small—just you and her.

“This is crazy you know that?” you whispered.

Karina glanced up at you, her lips curling into that mischievous smile you knew so well. “Do you want me to stop?” Her fingers trailed up your thighs, teasing, as if daring you to say yes.

You didn’t.

Instead, you let out a shaky breath as she settled onto her knees, the tissue paper crinkling softly beneath her. Her hands found your hips, steadying you, and you could feel the warmth of her breath against your skin. It sent a shiver up your spine, one that made you grip the sides of the stall for balance.

“Someone’s anxious,” Karina said, her voice low and playful.

“Trying not to think about how many people are right outside,” you admitted.

Karina’s fingers curled around your shaft, giving it a light stroke, “Don’t think about them. Just think about me.”

And then her mouth was on you, warm and wet and perfect. Your head tipped back instinctively, hitting the stall door with a soft thud. You bit down on your lip to stifle a groan. Her tongue swirled around your cock, teasing and tasting, while her hands gripped your thighs to keep you steady.

“Karina—” Her name came out as more of a gasp than a word.

She pulled back just enough to look up at you, her lips glistening. “Too much?”

You shook your head, your voice strained. “Keep going.”

Karina’s smile widened, and she leaned in again, taking your length deeper this time. Her lips trailed along your cock; the warm, wet cavern swallowing you again. Your fingers tangled in her dark hair, not to guide her, but to ground yourself as she sent pleasure down up your spine. The sounds she made—soft, satisfied hums as she bobbed her head on your cock—vibrated through you, and you had to remind yourself to breathe.

Outside, the faint sound of footsteps in the distance, and you froze, your body tensing. Karina didn’t stop. If anything, she seemed to take your hesitation as a challenge, her movements growing more deliberate, more intense.

“Relax,” her breath was hot against your exposed cock, “No one’s coming in here.”

“You don’t know that,” you hissed, though your grip on her hair tightened involuntarily.

She pulled back again, her lips brushing against your cock.

“Don’t you trust me?”

You didn’t even have to think about it. “Of course.”

“Then stop worrying.”

Her tongue flicked against the tip, and you choked back a moan.

It was as convincing an argument as any else.

Her mouth returned to your length, and this time, she didn’t hold back. The rhythm of her movements as she choked herself on your fat rod. The feel of her tongue running along the underside of your shaft every time she took you deep into her throat. The vulgar sounds of her gagging on your cock over and over again.

“God, Karina,” you breathed, your voice trembling as you looked down at her.

Her large-framed glasses were slightly askew, her dark hair falling into her face as she worked. She glanced up at you, her eyes locking with yours, and the sight of her like this—lips wrapped around you, cheeks flushed, glasses slipping down her nose—it was pure perfection.

“You look so fucking beautiful. Taking my cock so well.”

She hummed in response, her cheeks hollowing out as she sucked on your cock, coming off with an audible pop before she was on you again. Her hands moved to your balls, her fingers teasing and massaging as she took you deeper, her pace growing more erratic. Despite your earlier apprehension you didn’t want this to end, not yet at least.

And just when you were finally starting to let yourself go, you heard it.

Voices.

They were faint at first, muffled by the bathroom door, but they grew louder as they approached. Your body tensed, your fingers tightening in Karina’s hair, but she didn’t stop. If anything, she seemed to take your hesitation as a challenge, her movements growing more deliberate.

“Did you see them?” a woman’s voice asked, her tone excited. “I swear, I just saw Karina from aespa near the gate!”

Your heart skipped a beat, but Karina didn’t even flinch. Her tongue swirled around your cock, her fingers still playing with your balls, and you had to bite down on your lip to keep from moaning.

“No way,” another voice replied, “Do you think they are on our flight?”

“I don’t know, but I hope so. Can you imagine sitting next to them?”

Karina’s eyes flicked up to yours, and you could see the mischief in them. She was enjoying this—the risk, the secrecy, the fact that they were so close yet so oblivious. Her hand moved to your thigh, her nails digging in slightly as she took you deeper, her pace quickening.

You could feel yourself unraveling. The voices outside were still talking, their conversation casual and unaware, but all you could focus on was Karina—her mouth, her hands, the way she looked at you like she knew exactly what she was doing to you.

“If only they knew,” you thought, your mind hazy with pleasure. “If only they knew how close they were to Karina right now. Their favorite idol, on her knees, looking this filthy.”

The voices began to fade as the pair moved on, their footsteps echoing down the hallway. Karina pulled off you with a soft pop, her lips glistening and her breath coming in short, uneven gasps. She looked up at you, her eyes dark and playful, and you couldn’t help but smirk.

“You’re getting off on this, aren’t you?” you accused.

She grinned, her fingers still wrapped around you, stroking slowly while her other hand adjusted her glasses. “Maybe. Can you blame me?”

“Not even a little,” you admitted, your voice cracking as her thumb brushed over the tip of your cock.

She leaned in, her lips brushing against your thigh as she spoke. “Are you close?”

You nodded, your breath hitching.

“Do you want to come all over my face?” she asked, her tone innocent, as if she were asking about the weather.

The image alone was enough to make your knees weak—her pretty face, her large glasses, her lips parted as she looked up at you, your release painting her perfect skin. But you knew you didn’t have time for the cleanup, not with the risk of someone walking in at any moment.

“I want to see you swallow it all down,” you growled, your voice rough and urgent, barely contained.

Karina’s grin widened, sharp and knowing, and she didn’t hesitate. She took you back into her mouth, her tongue hot and wet as it slid along your length, teasing before she sank deeper. Her rhythm was relentless, each stroke pulling a ragged breath from your chest. Her hands gripped your thighs, nails digging in just enough to ground you, to keep you steady as she took you deeper, faster, her movements growing desperate.

“Fuck—yes, just like that,” you hissed, your voice breaking as the pressure coiled tighter in your gut. Your fingers tangled in her hair, not guiding, just holding on, as if Karina might slip away if you let go. “Don’t stop—don’t you dare stop.”

She didn’t. Karina’s eyes flicked up to yours, dark and hungry behind her glasses, which were slightly askew now, one lens fogged from the heat of her breath. The sight of her like that—messy, undone—sent a fresh surge of desire through you. Your hips jerked forward, involuntarily at first, but then you couldn’t stop. You moved with her, fucking her mouth in time with her head bobbing, each thrust driving you deeper, harder.

“That’s it—take it,” you groaned, your voice rough and uneven. “You feel so fucking good, Karina—I can’t—”

The words dissolved into a moan as she hummed around you, the vibration ripping through your body like a shockwave. Karina’s hands tightened on your thighs, urging you on, and you lost yourself in the rhythm, your hips snapping forward as she took everything you gave her.

“I’m close—so close,” you choked out, your voice breaking. “You’re going to make me—fuck—”

The tension snapped, sharp and electric, tearing through you in waves. Karina didn’t pull away, didn’t flinch, just took everything you gave her, her throat working around you as she swallowed you down.

When it was over, she stayed there for a moment, her forehead resting against your thigh, her breath coming in short, uneven gasps. Her glasses were nearly falling off now, crooked and smudged, and you reached down to adjust them with a shaky hand.

You slumped against the stall door, your legs trembling, and let out a shaky laugh.

“Jesus, Karina,” you muttered, your voice still unsteady. “You’re going to kill me.”

She looked up at you, her lips still glistening and her eyes bright with satisfaction.

“You love it.”

You couldn’t argue with that. There was no question you adored this woman.

After a few more moments of gathering yourself, your heartbeat still thrumming in your ears, you reached a hand down to help her to her feet.

“Come on, you’re already late for the boarding call.”

She took your hand, her fingers warm and soft against yours, and stood, brushing herself off with a casual grace that made it hard to believe what had just happened.

“You owe me one now,” she teased as she leaned up to press a kiss to your lips. The kiss was brief and you could taste yourself on her—a faint, salty tang that sent a shiver down your spine. When she pulled back, her smile only grew. “Don’t worry, I brought a blanket for the flight.”

[bakuhve]

i just. i just think katsuki would be the absolute best boyfriend in the world.

but at the same time… like.. it’s gonna take a fat minute to get to that point. my katsuki and reader are always gonna have the dynamic of she fell first and hard but he fell absolutely harder. like face smashed into the ground, concrete cracked beneath his body, harder.

your story was never mutual love at first sight, no. you fell first. the kind of fall that leaves you breathless and stumbling, but still willing to get up and run straight toward him again.

you admired katsuki in every way imaginable. his strength, his drive, the way he never wavered even when the whole world seemed to be against him. your admiration turned into something deeper, something that made your heart squeeze and stomach flip. and you didn’t bother hiding your crush.

why should you? why would you ever keep your adoration for the man you loved a secret?

so you let it show. you gravitated towards him during class breaks, in the little favors you did for him without him asking, in the shameless way you told him over and over again that you liked him.

but back then, katsuki was an idiot.

a dumbass so hyper-focused on hero training and his own ambitions that he barely spared a thought for anything else. he knew you had a crush on him- how could he not? but at the time, he equated it to nothing more than annoying persistence. some stalkerish, over eager need to be by his side.

and oh, how he wants to throttle his past self for thinking this way.

because somewhere along the line, after countless battles, after seeing you at your highest highs and lowest lows, after realizing that no matter how hard he tried he couldn’t shake you off- he started to not mind your presence.

then he started looking for it.

started craving it.

and like that, he fell.

only by the time he realized it, you weren’t the one constantly chasing anymore.

now it was him hovering near you at all times, subtly making excuses to be closer. he stole glances, catching himself staring at your hands and wondering what it would be like to just hold them.

and when you finally got together, when it turned into something real, katsuki was left fumbling into unfamiliar territory.

because he had no experience being this stupidly and sickeningly in love.

was he doing this right? was he too much? was he not enough? what the hell did a girl like you see in him?

and most of all, were his hands too damn clammy to be holding yours right now?

but then you squeeze his hand. and he squeezes yours back.

and just like that, all his doubts settle. because you’re his person. and he’s yours.

but yeah anyways lovesick reader and even more lovesick katsuki on top

[sevsgiirl]

Omg okay I can't stop thinking about needy lovesick Sevika with a younger femme partner (you can totally do a continuation of the fic you wrote) so what if, she's a little needy&insecure for their age gap? That her girl gets bored/annoyed with her? (She doesn't have this type of thoughts all the time, but the seeds of doubts grows when she hears other people talk, not directly about her and reader, but in general but it does linger when others points out how different they are) or in her own way, she start craving more compliments, affections from her but dunno how to do it and at the same time she's trying to gauce if her girl still likes her (she does!!) yet just the thoughts/doubts hurts Sevika like so bad, because she would do anything for her darling, what she has to do to make her girl still love her and not leave her?

— sevika with a younger partner and feeling insecure

synopsis: sevika doesn’t have a type. whether they’re older or younger, just as long as they could keep up with her that’s all mattered. but ever since you two started dating, she starts to wonder if she’s the one who could keep up with you and how deep down, it scares her that you might find a problem with it eventually.

note: I just had to post this before going to sleep because the idea is too good. I love the way your brain works and again, thank you for sending in the req <3 love you and I hope you like this.

you were a beacon of light in the cesspool of chaos that is sevika’s life.

to this day, she still doesn’t understand how you and her got into a relationship but here you are now, going strong for almost a year and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

you two rarely get into arguments, when you did she never hesitates to reach out and fix the situation right away because she can’t stand being on bad terms with you for long.

you two are on the same mental wavelength, which sevika appreciates given how you’re a lot younger than her. she’s in her 40s and you were in 20s, but sometimes she forgets because conversations always run smoothly between you two.

but just because she forgets that doesn’t mean other people fail to bring it up.

when you started dating, it was a bit difficult given how it wasn’t received well by a lot of her peers. not that they judged her for it because they could never unless they wanted to have their face busted in. but it was the occasional remarks that had a hint of judgement in them that made sevika uncomfortable.

things such as “she’s a bit young, isn’t she? you better keep an eye on her especially because you’re always at work. it’s hard being in a relationship with someone who’s at a different stage in life as you.”

both of you had jobs but her work compared to yours was hectic. you work as a waitress at jericho’s meanwhile sevika is paid to get her hands dirty for silco. the job was tedious and draining and sometimes she comes home, tired to the bone that she could barely catch up with you. which she feels immensely guilty for.

you’ve reassured her that it isn’t a big deal and that you understand her status in zaun is far more important than yours. you’ve always acknowledged sevika’s role in the under city and why she was feared by many, that’s what attracted you to her in the first place. she was loyal, devoted and her endurance was insane.

but still, despite how sevika’s job is her number one priority, it still doesn’t slip her mind that she may accidentally neglect you and your needs without her knowing.

and she knows it takes a toll on you too, you just don’t want to bring it up because you respect her too much. and she was right because when she came home early one night you weren’t there, and it was almost midnight when you finally returned and you were shocked to see sevika sitting on your couch waiting for you. usually she’d be back around 2-3am.

“hey, you didn’t tell me silco would let you off the hook early,” you said but your words became background noise because she was too focused on your appearance. you were dressed up and from where she sat she could tell you’ve had a lot to drink.

it’s not that it upset sevika you went out, you could do whatever you want but it saddens her that you didn’t even go out of your way to tell her about it assuming she’d be coming home late. is this what you do when she’s not here? go out with your friends and have fun? it’s not that she expects you to wait for her in your apartment all day while she’s away for work.

still, the thought bothers her as she wonders what you must’ve been up to while she was gone. she tries to set the thought aside, not wanting to think bad of you because she knows you’d never go against her back. but certain thoughts crept up at the back of her mind. did you meet someone while you were out? were you offered drinks? did someone invite you out to dance?

“sev, baby, you there?” she didn’t even realize she zoned out until she felt you cupping her cheek “are you tired? you shouldn’t have stayed up for me.”

she shook her head “it’s alright. but yeah, silco let me off early and I wanted to surprise you.”

your shoulders sagged “I’m sorry. I assumed you’d come home late again so I decided to just go out with friends. had I known I would’ve waited so we can stay in and cuddle.”

despite your flattery words, the only thing that stuck to sevika was you implying she’d be late again. you didn’t mean it maliciously, there was no bitterness in your tone but instead there was just… acceptance. which frustrated her because people were right.

perhaps being at different stages in life does this. you needed a partner who you can home to and have fun with but instead you got her who’s always late, is already asleep when you probably want to stay up and have sex at night. she would force herself to push through just for you but she isn’t getting any younger and it shows.

maybe it’s because others have planted it in her head that you two are just far too different that’s why she’s overthinking like this, but it’s becoming more and more evident that they were right and if she doesn’t find a way to fix this, god knows before you start seeing the cracks and the dents as well.

and so in the following day she asked silco if she could cut off her usual hours at work to get back home early. at least for a few weeks and silco was shocked for a second because if there was anyone who’s extremely dedicated to their job, it’s her.

but it’s because of that he deliberates on the request “very well,” he answered “but if the matters are urgent I expect you to come in either way,”

well, it’s better than nothing, sevika thought. what matters is she’ll try to find some time to spend the following weeks with you and to hopefully regain the spark in your relationship.

not that she’s saying it’s lost but she’s scared it will. because if her days don’t consist of work, she’s either at the bar playing cards to blow off some steam, which isn’t exactly a productive way of spending one’s time.

unlike you, you have tons of friends who you go out with at clubs and sevika just doesn’t want to think about all the people you meet there, who are probably the same age as you, and have wanted to ask you out but you turned them down because of her.

meanwhile, she’s here and she can’t even keep you happy like how you deserve.

it eats her up alive that’s why as soon as she comes back from work a lot earlier than usual, she immediately engulfs you in a back hug when she sees you cooking in the kitchen.

you gasped, not expecting her “sev, you’re home.” you were surprised as you turned around “did something happen?”

she shook her head, smiling “no sweetheart, silco just let me off early again. plus I’ve been meaning to spend more time with my girl…”

you still weren’t used to the disruption of the routine, because she’s normally away at these hours, but you weren’t complaining.

and with that, you spent most of the evening cooking and catching up with each other. you didn’t miss the way sevika followed you around the house like a lost puppy when you started cleaning up to get ready for bed.

you raised an eyebrow when she wrapped her arms around your waist while you were washing the dishes, noticing how she’s awfully more needy than usual.

“baby, go rest. you just got back home from work.” you giggled and she just shook her head.

“I just want to spend more time with you. I feel like I haven’t been the best partner.”

that halted you in your tracks and you angled your head so you can face her “baby, what makes you think that?” your eyebrows were furrowed and she just held you tighter.

she lets out a breath, tired and awfully nervous about vocalizing her doubts. what if once she points it out you start seeing the red flags too? and then these affectionate gestures just won’t be enough? what then?

“I know with my job and the responsibilities I have, I haven’t been able to fulfill your needs. you have so much ahead of you and I’m always at work and I just don’t want to make it seem like I’m wasting your time.” she said and you just stood there, letting her words sink in.

“you’re young and you could be with someone whose head isn’t always stuck in a bunch of paperwork or is running around the lanes doing silco’s dirty work.” her jaw clenched and she starts to wonder if admitting to all of this was a good idea.

“I’m sorry, princess. I just don’t want to bore you by leaving you here at home all by yourself…”

you immediately swiveled around in her arms and took her face in your hands.

“sev, look at me.” you said, your voice stern “I could give less than two fucks about people my age. you think when I got into a relationship with you I didn’t know what I was signing myself up for? of course I did and I don’t regret any of it. I know you have responsibilities and I accepted all of your duties the moment you became mine.”

“I could never be bored of you, baby.” you told her, thumb caressing her cheek “you don’t treat me any differently because of my age so why should I? I love it that you’re so hard at work and that you provide for me. the fact my salary at jericho’s isn’t even enough to pay half of our rent but you don’t mind because you provide for us both, why would I find that boring? that’s fucking sexy.”

she couldn’t help but let out a snort “oh, so what you’re saying is that you’re staying with me because I’m basically your sugar mommy?”

you grinned “amongst other things,” you said before capturing her lips with your own.

the kiss was hot, heavy and slow as sevika gripped your hips and pulled you against her. pushing her knee up and sliding it across your thighs and she started rubbing against your clothed cunt, making you whimper.

“so you’re not bored of me? or mad?” she asked as she pulled away to look at you.

you rolled your eyes “you could be 23 or 75 for all I care and I still wouldn’t get bored of you.”

your finger drew circles around her chest as you fluttered your eyes up at her “plus you fuck me like you’re 23 anyway, so I don’t see why I would look for someone my age.”

she couldn’t help but laugh, swooping you up in her arms and you circled your legs around her waist as she walked you to your bedroom “god, you’re such a handful.” she said.

you smirked “but you love it.”

[vicorices]

18+ mdni, collage au, use of marijuana, high sex, blink and you'll miss perv!vi, you smoke while she eats you (feral), spit, stoner!vi that got out of hand.

masterlist // requests // wc: 1,931

dealer!vi who’s deep down a damn loser when it comes to you, an unmeasured crush that started out when you bought weed for the first time and she got your number under the premise of talking to you whenever she had good stash.

she stares for a good while at her phone after, trying to find out a reason to talk to you without sounding lame, the last time she was so afraid to talk to a girl she was what? sixteen? so fucking lame.

dealer!vi who leaves in the middle of a party cause you texted asking is she was up and well, it's her fault when she's spoiling you rotten, constantly selling to you her very best stuff at a stupid low price: she wants you to keep coming to her, so she makes sure of making an undeniable offer.

she's knocking at your door and it's way to late to be in the streets, standing with her hands shoved inside her jacket as she waits for you to open up.

dealer!vi who's impressed actually by your rolling skills cause how the fuck did you learn how to roll a joint like that? you have such a good technique she finds herself looking at it, fingers in perfect control as they swiftly pour the green from your purple grinder into king-sized pink rolling papers — is it indirect kissing when you're licking the paper and she can visibly see strings of your saliva? must be.

she looks at you when you light up the joint and the air is quickly filled with the intense smell of weed, a subtle fruity and citric aroma as you passed her the joint. indirect kissing. indirect kissing when vi's smoking from the very same spot you did, sitting close to you after selling you a good amount of weed and accepting a sudden invitation to stay for a while and smoke, make the journey at least a bit more worth it and not leave after five minutes with you.

it doesn't have to be just pure business.

you're oblivious to it, but her gaze lingers in your legs and the subtle way your shirt rides up showing more and more skin without you noticing, worried you'll find out she's right there high and dry in your sofa.

stoner!vi who laughs at your jokes, leaning forward when talking to you cause even high she just thinks about how beautiful you are, eyes red, half lidded, relaxed in the comfortable of your small apartment close to the uni.

and like a good stoner she forgets about she's holding the joint at some point, too busy with the conversation, your company and the atmosphere you’ve so easily created, the ashes falling to the ground now. she has sold you marijuana for months, yet she's not able to talk to you for more than explaining you what strain she's carrying to sell until well — now.

liking your photos, flirting but not at all, it's absurd the amounts of times you appear on her mind without even trying to, messy haircut, she's sure you have a tattoo hidden under the winter clothes cause she can be a proud stoner, but she pays attention, at least when she wants something, when it comes to you.

"are you ever going to make a move on me, vi? cause i'm getting tired of waiting for you to snap out of it."

and maybe it's the weed, that dizzy and nice sensation on her chest that makes her smile, cause she's sure you're pulling her closer even when she's the one moving on her own.

"a move, you want me to make a move on you?"

you're taking the joint from her fingers and she swears it's the hottest thing she's ever experienced, the way you were suddenly so close to her only to pull away after, letting the smoke linger in the air when you light it again: she has felt that very same thing before, the awful need of pulling you into a kiss.

"i thought it was obvious when i texted you in the middle of the night, but you don't seem to get it much" the music seems to drown her unsteady breathing, the loud guitars by the speaker in the table while your bratty attitude only seems to turn her on even further. "should i spell it out for you? send a formal invitation?"

stoner!vi who's really bad in controlling her force when high, cause her hand fist in the fabric of your shirt and she's finally erasing the distance she was once polite to keep, moving you without much effort across the cushions to pull you closer to her, make you lay on the sofa to pin you down beneath her.

her muscles flex on top on you and she's finally aware of the effect she has on you, when she's finally kissing you and you're responding to her even when she barely touches you — so maybe it's not as lame as she thought, cause her kisses travels down your throat, messy, sloppy open-mouthed kisses she places as she holds you there, still and where she wants you to, not lame at all when you cannot control yourself either, squirming, already asking for more.

and fuck it's good. she can smell the subtle smell of weed in your clothes, and swear could choke 'cause you're parting your legs for her, a silent invitation she just gets with no need to spell it out for her now.

"gonna smoke it all by yourself?" vi's messing with you at first, watching you take the joint you forgot in your fingers to place it over your lips — "or are you gonna share that with me?"

stoner!vi who fantasizes with the thought of spitting right over your parted lips when she's helping you smoke, lighting up the joint as she sits on top of you. she's slower, but her hips press down against yours just right, and trapped in between her thighs is a damn sight. her blushed cheeks match her cherry hair who's much longer now since the first time you meet her, and you, a demon as always, let your hand find the skin beneath her shirt, the pad of your fingers roaming against her hip bone, trailing it down her pants.

with two fingers, she places the joint over your lips. your breathing collides against her hand, and she can feel the softness in your lips for a moment before you're blowing the smoke in her direction, slightly and for nothing more than five seconds but enough to make her think about kissing you again, yearning when she's stealing kiss after kiss, taking away the joint to have you pay attention to her instead. needy.

the weed makes her like that she'd say, but in reality vi's going to pieces even before her eyes become glassy. shambles when the music on the speaker is not enough to muffle your gasps, the irregular sound of your breathing after she slowly begins to ask you for more — hungry even when she's full fed.

she's building you up, taking her time since she dreamed about this a lot, and she desperately wants it to make it last, savor it as long as she can have it, so vi's dragging your shirt upwards, enough so she can see the obvious lack of a bra, latching on the skin of your breast until it's bruised and sensitive, purple because of her.

you do have a hidden tattoo, only for her to see.

yet it's her name on your swollen lips what she enjoys the most, how she's there in your lungs inside you, the sound of your moans when you ask if she could keep going. your always perfect hair lays now messy, and god she just want to imprint the sight of you in her brain, how your skin shiver when she's kissing the expanses of your belly, that flirty look on your face she can see even when she's completely on her knees for you already.

"you forgot about the joint again, peach" vi mutters against your navel, her chin presses against your stomach and the mere contact makes your skin burn "you okay up there? 'cause last time i recall i was invited to smoke with you love, you're making me feel a little betrayed here."

stoner!vi who likes the fact you're smoking from her weed. may seem stupid but she damn prides on knowing you choose her every time even when uni is fucking plagued with providers all around: you praise about her quality, chanting about how good your high was, how she never disappoints.

the world seems to stop against your skin, the time dies between your thighs, the intense smell of your arousal clouds her with longing and her mouth waters at the compulsion to lean forward.

"it's not fair, making me feel so- fuck so-" the words die on her tongue, cause your panties are soaked through, clinging to your folds and she's already drunk on it, lost in the haze as she looks up to you, barely illuminated by the lights in the apartment, the ember of the joint lighting every once in a while.

"talk to me," your voice is rough as your hand reaches down to her hair, taking the long strands of the mullet between your fingers — "how do i make you feel, huh? tell me vi."

stoner!vi who's a chaotic eater. she whimpers at your praises as her tongue laps from over your slick underwear, drool escaping from the corners of her mouth as her nose rubs against your sensitive cunt and she doesn't really care if she stinks like pussy after, if you're gushing all over her cheeks as she's making your underwear to the side; she's surrendering entirely, spreading you with her fingers and sinking her face in your puffy, swollen lips already sticky with a sheen of arousal.

she cannot seem to have enough, one arm tangled around your leg as she's comfortable enough to gather a good amount of saliva on her mouth so she can let it fall against your already leaky pussy, scooping it with her fingers to use it as lube when her digits are forcing themselves against your entrance, opening you up for her as vi's mouth sucks greedy around your clit.

so you forgot about the joint laying between your fingers as you hold her face against your sex, moving your hips against her mouth until she's looking at you through half lidded eyes and you can see how her face seems to glisten thanks to you. vi seems to be hitting all the nice places when her fingers scissors inside you, rubbing on your walls as you become pliant in her touch, inviting as you seem to suck her in deeper.

stoner!vi who pays attention, cause she's fixated in your face when you fall apart, dissolving into pleasure, splintering in lust for a brief moment she prolongs as much as it's possible, slowly pumping her fingers inside your tight entrance to keep seeing that pretty face all constricted in need, babbling about how good she's eating you, how full you are when her fingers fuck you dumb like that.

stoner!vi who shoves her fingers in your mouth right after fucking you, using her thumb to trace them along the seam at first, coaxing you to open them for her, pushing down on your tongue as soon as she's granted permission.

it's her turn to smoke now.

[luv-lock]

bro what would happen if spider!reader actually ended up with someone? it could even be just a one night stand thing, then someday they end up meeting that person again and it’s brought up in front of everyone but spider!reader is very nonchalant abt it, shes just like; yeah that was fun! anyway so

You never really thought about it. It was one night, fun, casual—nothing deep. You had needs, and, well, that guy (or girl, whatever you were into at the time) was right there. It was a good night, but after that? You bounced.

Fast-forward to months later, when you and the Batboys were out on a mission. You weren’t expecting to ever see your one-night stand again, but, of course, Gotham had a way of screwing with you.

“Y/N?” a voice called out behind you.

You turned around, coming face-to-face with—oh. Ohhh. That guy.

“Oh, hey!” you said casually, as if you weren’t currently in the middle of taking down a gang of arms dealers. “Long time no see!”

The Batboys froze. Every. Single. One of them.

Dick blinked. Jason’s grip on his gun tightened. Tim nearly dropped his staff. Damian looked like he was about to commit a murder.

“…You know him?” Dick asked slowly, eyes darting between you and the mystery guy.

You shrugged. “Yeah, we slept together once. Anyway—”

Immediate chaos.

Dick short-circuited. Full stop. He opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it again, like a goldfish struggling to breathe. “YOU WHAT?!”

Jason physically recoiled. “I’m sorry—WHAT?!”

Tim actually choked. He had to lean on his staff for support. “That—That was not the answer I was expecting.”

Damian looked at the guy like he was a cockroach he needed to crush. “Tt. You have no shame.”

Bruce, who was listening through comms, muted himself. He's so tired of your ass.

Meanwhile, the guy just blinked. “Wow. Okay. I was not expecting you to be working with the freaking Batfamily. This is… a lot.”

You laughed. “Yeah, life’s funny like that!”

Jason rubbed his temples. “You can’t just drop a bomb like that and move on like it’s nothing!”

You looked at him, tilting your head. “Why not? It was fun. But that was a while ago. I mean, it’s not like I’m marrying the dude.”

The guy held up his hands awkwardly. “Uh, yeah, definitely not. No offense, Y/N.”

“None taken!” You smiled.

Jason pointed an accusing finger at the guy. “You. Get lost before I put a bullet in your kneecap.”

“Yeah, sure. Good seeing you, Y/N,” the guy said before speed-walking the hell away.

Dick ran a hand through his hair, still in shock. “Y/N… how…? When…?”

You smirked, enjoying this way too much. “What? You guys act like I’m a virgin or something.”

Tim sighed, clearly regretting his entire existence. “I just… I don’t know how to process this.”

Damian, arms crossed, glared at you. “You should have higher standards.”

“Oh, I do,” you said cheerfully. “That’s why you’re my favorite.” You booped his nose, making his glare intensify.

Bruce finally unmuted himself on the comms. “We will never talk about this again.”

Jason crossed his arms. “Oh, I’m bringing this up every chance I get.”

Tim nodded. “Same.”

Dick just sighed. “God, I need a drink.”

You just grinned. “See? This is why I didn’t tell you guys in the first place.”

[thegeekgene]

I would like to point out that this job was with a small nonprofit offering out patient care to low income people with severe mental illness. Our team was peer support specialists. So the things I was taking notes on were things like 'how to address it if Client does Behavior' and 'would Client benefit more from X or Y group' and 'fyi Client is struggling more with Recurring Symptom so maybe keep an eye on that' which are all QUITE important things to keep track of either for our own reference or for the other treatment providers to ensure we're on the same page.

Or, as a purely random example, say one person on the team brought up something they were considering every six months and half the team shared specific concerns about his course of action while the other half was fine with it. If that course of action REPEATEDLY turned into a clusterfuck it would be PRETTY nice to have a record to refer to determine whether he has done the same thing before, whether it turned into a clusterfuck last time, too, and whether there were 3-4 people in the room saying 'cut that shit out, you are ACTIVELY harming a client' every single time it happened.

(Also important to keep track of how many times the conversation ended in another team member physically attacking the dude, as refraining from doing so indicated almost supernatural poise and professionalism. They really should've given her a raise.)

Someone at an old job asked why I wanted to write up the meeting minutes for our team and I said 'i wanna control the narrative' and they were like 'what' and I pointed out that no one was gonna remember what we said in six months and so my interpretation of the meeting would dictate the assumed reality of what happened

"none of you ever send corrections when I offer the draft so y'all have consented to my version"

"we don't read that shit"

"you must trust me implicitly to create our shared reality that's so sweet"

That's how several coworkers decided I was a supervillain and how I learned several coworkers didn't understand record keeping as like a CONCEPT

[f1fantasys]

He Just Wants My Body, I Want His All - Part 1

Warnings - explicit smut. masturbating, oral m! and f! receiving, nipple stimulation, penetrative sex, choking, blowjobs, swearing, use of the word Slut. Minors DNI.

Winter break.

Snow, skiing, hot chocolate, wine, and

sex, or lack there of.

With the f1 season over and done with for another year, it only meant one thing. A getaway deep in the mountains surrounded by snow, with your closest friends, and him.

You and Lando had been tip-toeing each other for too long now, getting to a point where it was a matter of time until one of you breaks. The constant flirting, darkening eyes, lingering touches, you both had it bad. And to make matters worse, it had been months since you last had a good fuck, so to say you were getting antsy was an understatement. Pleasuring yourself was no where close to giving you what your body craved. You knew Lando hadn't had that problem. The boy was a player, balls deep in a new girl every weekend, and you hated yourself for wanting him this badly. But whenever you were around each other, everything faded away, and he made you feel like the only girl he wanted.

Max had told you a couple of times now that those girls mean nothing to Lando. They're just a form of helping him get a decent fuck in before his races, not because he wants them. No. He wants you. And each time Max told you this, you laughed in his face.

You definitely weren't sure about a future with Lando. You were both still young, reckless. All you craved from him at the minute was his body. Often, you'd think about how his lips would feel on yours, would he leave you plumped and bruised, hickey's on your sweet spot? How would his tongue feel circling your hard nipples, or better yet, on your cunt? Lapping through your folds as he finger fucked you, stretching you out for his girth, which you imagined to be mighty big. Then you'd think about how he fucked. Is he slow and soft? Or does he prefer quick, hard and rough? You imagined the latter.

''Y/N!'' Lando's voice rang in your ears as you came back to earth, his fingers clicking in front of your face.

''Huh, sorry, I zoned out'' you said, looking at him like a deer caught in headlights, tying to play it cool because you could feel your panties, wet, from the dirty thoughts you were having.

''You don't say'' he said, smirk on his face as if he knew what was going on in your mind.

''Hot tub?'' he asked. ''Max and P are gone for a walk, so it's just you and me.''

''Yeah sure'' you said, the words leaving your mouth before you could over think it. You got up to go get changed, not giving Lando the chance to say anything else, though you heard him mumbling something to yourself because the last 5 minutes were weird as fuck, you'll admit.

He was already sat inside when you came out, with the hot water bubbling away, already giving his face a glow with sweat. You winced as you took off your gown, revealing a skimpy bikini that left nothing to imagination, as you stepped into the tub, the heat a stark contrast to the cold of the air.

You sat across him, involuntarily letting out a moan as the water soothed your aching muscles, Lando's eyes on you the whole time.

For a few minutes, neither of you spoke, the tension getting thicket with each passing second until you couldn't take it anymore.

''Sooo-'' you started, but Lando cut you off.

''So- how long?'' he asked, voice raspy with intent.

''What?'' you asked, taken aback.

His next words pushed you off the cliff.

''How longs' it been since you fucked?''

You couldn't bring yourself to answer him, brain short circuiting.

''I-why?'' you asked back.

''Before, could always tell when you'd had a good night. You haven't been the same and I'm guessing it's coz your fingers aren't doing justice.''

You quickly felt a heat creep up your neck, no surprises your cheeks must be flushed already as it was obvious what the picture in both your minds was - you, naked, fingering yourself.

''I-I'm not going to answer that'' you huffed, leaning further back and looking up at the night sky.

Lando chuckled opposite you, making you look at him again.

His eyes were shades darker than they were a few moments ago.

''Let me help you, yeah?''

''How?''

''I'll guide you through it'' he said, very matter of factly.

''Since when did you become an expert on pleasuring ones self?'' you asked.

''Since it's you who needs help'' he said, tongue darting out to lick his lips.

You should have said no. Should have laughed him off and changed the topic. But you didn't. Your body was already responding to his words.

''Humor me'' he said when you stayed silent.

''Fine, but you owe me...a Rolex if you don't live up to my expectations'' you pressed, smug look on your face.

''Hell, I'll buy you 10'' he said, sitting up straighter, clasping his hands together like an excited little boy as you stuck your tongue out to him.

''First things first'' he said, treading closer to you and taking a hold of your legs.

You jumped at the contact, not expecting him to touch you at all.

''Relax, just taking care of the first step'' he said softly as his hands found your waist and shamelessly pulled your bikini bottoms down and off you, before resuming to his position opposite you, smirking.

Your body was still tingling his his touch, you really had it out bad, and little did you know, he had it worse. If anyone asked him right now, he'd wouldn't have an answer as to what the hell he was doing, but now that he's made a step forward, he wasn't gonna turn back.

''Do you trust me?'' he asked, teasing voice gone and replaced with sincerity.

''Yes'' you replied quickly, because it was the truth.

Within seconds he was treading in front of you again, his hand finding yours underwater, giving it a squeeze before he held just your index and middle finger, every so slowly bringing the two up, slipping them to his mouth before letting out a moan.

You watched on in shock, mouth agape at the feeling of his hot tongue swirling around them, sucking harshly, and repeating the process over and over.

''Lando..'' you breathed his name out, already feeling your pussy desperately clenching around nothing. His free hand found your bikini strings under the water, untying them easily as he freed your boobs, though still unable to see them.

Just as you wished for more from him, he released your fingers with a pop before sitting back again, losing contact with your body.

You groaned at that, needling more but he sat there was a smug smile.

His voice was stern as he spoke. ''Hands on your breasts, love'' he said, the nickname waking up the butterflies in your tummy.

You did as you were told, hands finding your perky breasts, eyes shutting momentarily as he continued. ''Tease yourself - your nipples. Are they hard?''

''-Yes'' you were quick to answer.

''Perfect, pinch yourself hard. I wanna hear you moan''

You obeyed, but held back the groan you so desperately wanted to let out

''Not gonna let you cum til you do as i say love'' he said, the nickname returning.

This time you didn't hold back. You rolled your nipples through your fingers, squishing them between and let out a series of erratic moans.

It could have been a minute, or 30, who knows, but when Lando didn't speak after that, you opened your eyes to find him staring at you, bottom lip between his teeth. It was only then that you noticed how you'd lifted your body up, your boobs now on full display that had him speechless.

''Lan-''

''You're fucking perfect, fuck. Can't imagine how good your cunt looks if this is just the top half of you'' he whimpered, eyes finding yours.

He looked like he was itching to get a hold of you, but he held himself back, licking his lips and clasping his hands on his knees, leaning slightly forward but not as much as you wished he would.

''Let your hands go south now, cup your throbbing pussy. Must be dripping, yeah? For me maybe?''

Your breath hitched as your fingers found your cunt, which yes, was wet all thanks to the man in front of you. You ran through your folds quickly, eliciting more moans as Lando watched on mouth agape.

''Are you? Wet for me?'' he asked, not sure if he wanted to know the answer.

''I-fuck me. I am'' you said, not caring how wussy you sounded, how breathless you sounded.

''Find your clit, I want to hear you loud, desperate, give yourself the friction you so badly crave.''

''Oh god,'' you whispered, head falling back, pushing your boobs out the water again.

''That's it, go on. Tread by your hole, push one in'' he said in a low voice, trying to keep himself together.

''Imagine it's my finger, big and rough, thrusting into you hard and rough'' he demanded as your voice rose with each moan, sharp gasps escaping your mouth with each push. He hadn't told you to, yet, but you added a second finger, your walls clenching perfectly around them as you sped up your pace as Lando threw more words at you, half of them sounded muffled as your brain was not thinking clearly right now. All you could focus on was what you imagined his fingers to feel like.

''Fuck Y/N, you look so hot right now, I'm so fucking hard watching you like this. Gonna sit up and let me see the mess you're making? he asked.

You didn't answer though. You halted your movements for a split second as you lifted your body out of the water, setting you ass outside as your legs stayed submerged, watching Lando as his eyes darkened, whole demeanor changing. You spread your legs for him to see your glistening cunt, throbbing and all it took was a whisper of his name for him to pounce.

His hands were on you, spreading your legs further and flexing his arms muscles as he dove straight in, tongue sliding through your folds as you took a hold of his hair, tugging at it while he lapped at your pussy, using his fingers to pry your hole open further, and thrusting his tongue through it relentlessly.

God you had waited for this moment for so long, and now to be going through without felt nothing short of bloody amazing.

''Please, don't stop, fuck Lando'' you mumbled between moans. The cold air making your body shiver but you couldn't give a damn because of Lando's hot mouth on you.

He really knew what he was doing, devouring you most sensitive parts as his thumb rolled over your clit, an orgasm ripping through you with no warning as you shook and trembled, oozing your sticky cum straight into his mouth, sending him into an array of groans at the taste of you.

Your chest was heaving, Lando not slowing his movements one bit as you tried to regain your breath, and soon he replaced his tongue with three fingers, plunging into you with no warning while he leaned up to latch his mouth to your left nipple, biting and tugging on it harshly.

''Lando, I'm-fuck. I'm gonna cum again'' you said, sure you could cum just from looking down at his face, dripping with your juices. ''Please'' you begged, not sure what for.

His fingers brushed against your G-spot over and over again, giving you that stimulation that you just couldn't give yourself these past months, and it was a matter of seconds until you came crashing down again, body trembling in his arms as he finally slowed his movements, quickly pulling you back into the hot water to warm you up as he whispered dirty nothings into your ear.

He wrapped his arms around you, and you allowed yourself to collapse forward onto his body, shallowed breaths leaving your mouth.

It took you both a second to realize the position you were in - You, naked, on his lap, whilst his dark hardened.

Should it have been awkward? Yes. Was it? No.

Because Lando cupped your face and clasped your lips together in a dominant frenzy. It was messy, desperate, both your tongues fighting each other as your hands roamed each others' bodies. He moved his mouth down your neck, sucking and nibbling on your sweet spots as if he knew your body inside out already, as if you'd done this a thousand times.

You started girding your ass down on his hard on, mentally screaming at just how large he felt under your tiny cunt.

Eventually, you found air to speak, though your words were shaky. ''Lando, please, I need more'' you begged as he pulled his head back to look at you.

By now your body was shivering, not knowing if it was from the snow that had started falling or from the way Lando's gaze was dark, full of lust.

''I-fuck. Can we fuck?'' he asked, already lifting you up in his arms as you frantically nodded your head, as he stepped out the hot tub before placing you down to wrap your gown around you.

The walk up to your room was rushed, Lando hoisting you over his shoulder, practically running up the stairs.

He threw you on your bed, sliding your gown off your body as he stepped back to rid himself of his shorts, revealing him in all his glory as you leaned up on your elbows.

He was thick, to no surprise.

But still, your eyes widened and your pussy throbbed at the sight in front of you.

His cock stood tall against his stomach, twitching, with pre cum oozing down the thick vein at the side.

''Like what you see? Or just desperate for any cock?'' he asked, smirking down at you.

As much as you wanted to tease back, you couldn't help but let a smile creep up your face, causing him to laugh out loud, literally.

''Fuck you'' you mumbled, laying back down, staring at the ceiling.

''I'd rather you fuck me, love'' he said, voice turning raspy again, making your breath hitch.

He hovered above you, knees on either side of your body as he bought a hand to your face, gently lingering his finger on your cheeks as his eyes bore into yours.

You shuffled underneath him when you felt his hard on pressing against your thigh, but his hands were quick to land on your waist, holding you still.

'''Night's gonna end early if you do that'' he said, hint of mischief in his eyes, then he groaned, letting his head fall on your chest making you instinctively wrap your arms around him.

''Fucking condom'' he mumbled as you giggled, running your hands through his hair.

''On the dresser'' you said lightly causing his head to shoot up in disbelief.

''Y/N, holidaying with condoms?'' he asked, already untangling himself from you to grab what he needed.

''Always come prepared'' you said firmly, backing yourself.

''Who were you planning on using it with?'' he asked.

''A hot European man.. tall, tanned, oh i could go on'' you teased as Lando returned to his place above you.

He sat back om his heels as he tore the little packet open with his teeth, all the while you let your finger trace against the vein on the side of his girth. He hissed at the contact, dick twitching involuntarily as he slid the condom on before leaning down to lock lips with you. It was a slow, sensual kiss this time, lazy with your tongues tangling together short gasps leaving your mouths.

Finally though, Lando positioned himself at your entrance.

''You sure?'' he asked.

''I am. Please'' you said, cupping the side of his face as it hovered over yours, your hot breaths mingling together as he slid into your pussy in a single stroke.

Your back arched off the bed, breath hitching as his head fell to your neck, the both of you moaning in unison.

''Give me a sec'' you said softly, needling some time to adjust to his size.

''Fuck you're tight.'' he groaned in your ear.

And soon the pleasure started taking over the pain. You shifted your body, letting Lando know he could move. And did he.

He pulled out of you completely before pounding in again at such a rough pace, all you could do was shut your eyes and dig you hands into his biceps as he repeated the motion over and over again.

''Lando'' you gasped his name as he brushed over your G-spot. ''Please, harder, fuck me harder'' you begged, needling him to give you his all. You were sure you'd never had it this rough before, and he was certainly one of the biggest, but knowing all that only turned you on even more.

''I am fucking you, love. You feel so fuckin' amazing. Can't believe I waited this long to get into your pussy'' he spurred, hands grabbing your hips, imprinting them for sure.

''I'm gonna cum'' you warmed as his fingers found your clit, rubbing over it to quickly send you over the edge, body trembled beneath him as you gushed your hot sticky cum all over his condom-clad dick, pornographic moans leaving your lips along with praises of his name.

And when Lando looked down to see the coating on the condom, he was quick to let out his own guttural moan, movements becoming erratic at just that sight though he was determined to make you cum again before he reached his own high.

He pulled out of you before man handling your body to flip you over onto all fours. You body was like jelly by now so he had no choice but to hold you up himself, your back against his chest, lining himself up at your entrance again.

Your bodies were sticky with sweat, goosebumps raising as he pushed into your again, this time slow and gentle, just for a split second before picking up the pace again.

The sounds leaving your mouth were obscene, no coherent thought in your mind - just Lando and his dick giving your body was it's so desperately needed.

His one hand found your boobs, pinching your nipples between his fingers as his other found your throat, giving it a few squeezes which had you whimpering endlessly. Something about him claiming you had you dizzy and excited.

''Gonna be a good slut and cum for me baby?'' he asked, his voice hoarse as the nicknames had you spiraling, another orgasm puttering through your body viciously, his name leaving your lips like a mantra as he chuckled to himself.

Before you knew what was happening, you were on your back again, at the edge of the bed as Lando placed one foot on the bed, keeping one on the ground, sliding through your puffy cunt again but this time with sloppy, erratic movements. You could feel his dick start to twitch uncontrollably as you pulled his head down for a dirty kiss.

''Fuck, I'm gonna-shit'' he groaned as he released his splutter into the condom while still sliding through you as your walls clenched tightly around him, sending you in an array of your own moans at how sensitive you were already. His body bucked and jerked as he rode himself through it, this time praising your name along with lots of cuss words.

Eventually Lando let his body fall a top of yours, putting all his weight on you as you wrapped your arms around him, but not before running them through his damp hair.

You could feel his breath on your neck, hot and sticky as you both lay there, chests heaving, bodies shivering, all the while he softened inside of you.

After a few minutes of silence Lando gave you one last deep kiss before pulling out, wincing at the loss of contact His plan was to get a towel to clean up, but his body betrayed him and he ended up on his back next to you, his eyes shamelessly roaming your body.

Not knowing where you got a burst of energy from, you straddled his legs, taking a hold of his dick and pulling the condom off, making Lando hiss.

His cock was sticky with his milky cum, and you messed your hand when you gave him a few pumps, indulging in hearing the moans leave his lips as he was already beginning to harden again.

You looked up at him in surprise. ''Already?'' you asked.

He smiled at you, bottom lip between his teeth. ''Formula 1 driver. Stamina'' he teased, though his face contorted with pleasure when he felt your lips wrap around his tip with no warning, bucking his hips up.

''Fuck, Y/N, that mouth of yours'' you said breathlessly, hands pulling your hair out of your face.

You moaned when you tasted him, your tongue circling around his tip as his grip on your hair tightened.

Fondling with his balls, you took him deeper into your mouth, gagging when he hit the back of your throat as you started a steady pace of bobbing you head up and down his shaft.

All that was heard in the room were the sloppy sounds of your mouth sliding over him, and Lando's gasps and moans, your name falling from his lips every now and then.

''I'm not gonna last long with that rate you're going, Y/N'' he warned, though you didn't slow your pace even a little.

''Fuck me, where do you want'' he asked, leaning up on his elbows, and once again, you didn't respond to him. If anything, you tried to take him deeper, sucking harder at his tip, and in seconds Lando was a shuddering mess, his hips bucking up erratically as his cum shot out of him, down your throat.

You gagged again, mouth full of his cum as it started dripping out of the corners when you pulled back, swallowing most of it but keeping some in as you climbed higher up Lando's body, that was still shuddering, only to pry his mouth open with your fingers, let his cum drip down from your mouth into kiss before you kissed him hard, but sloppy, dirty.

When you pulled back, you were both breathless once again, faces messed with sweat and cum, spit running down your chins.

''Fuck me, who knew you were a wild one'' he said, running his hands through your hair as you giggled into his neck, giving him a few pecks.

Eventually, after you both actually cleaned up, albeit a few mishaps of teasing, you settled into bed, your body curled up besides Lando's as he wrapped am arm around you.

The reality of what happened lingering through the both of you, though it didn't feel as awkward as it should have.

''I know we've been tethering on the edge for too long now, and fuck me if it wasn't as good as i always imagined it to be..'' he said, leaving a kiss on your head as your body stiffened, not sure if you wanted to heat his next words.

Before, you could have argued that you only wanted him for sex, but at the back of your mind you always knew that was a lie. It wasn't normal to feel the kind of goosebumps you did when he did so much as look at you, and you knew you were falling for him, inch by inch. And sharing such an intimate moment like this tonight only heightening those feelings. You should wasn't sure if it was one sided.

''I'm not ready for a relationship Y/N, not with work and all..'' he said softly as your heart clenched. A part of you also knew that he knew that's what you wanted.

''But, I don't wanna miss out on us having fun. We're a terrible duo that do it so good together. So I guess what I'm asking is if you'd be up to being my exclusive fuck buddy'' he said, eyes finding yours when you looked up at him.

''Exclusive?'' you asked.

''Ýeah. No more random girls at different race. Or guys for you!'' he teased, pinching your sides.

''Yes'' you were quick to reply, though you definitely should not have. This was only gonna end with you getting your heart broken. But if it meant getting this much from him at the moment, you were ready to take that.

''Yeah?'' he asked, somewhat surprised.

''Yeah, but you owe me 10 Rolex’s!'' you teased back.

''Of fuck off, don't even try to tell me I didn't help get you off, multiple times, if I may add'' he said, leaning down to give you one last dirty kiss of the night.

A/N - hope you enjoyed this! I'm planning on making it a mini series with some angst (I know!!). Let me know if you wanna be added to the taglist.

[kxsagi]

back again with another idea, don't judge me these men haunt my mind 24/7

bllk boys with a manager gf.

imagine them having a manager in blue lock right? then she yk does what managers do. help with their training, give them water, monitor their plays and even sometimes suggest new playstyle that could improve their game and such.

then, one of their teammates gets injured and yk what that means? gf touches the other member to apply bandage or apply dressing to their wounds. bf gets jealous and accidentally reveals their relationship to everyone.

that's all, have a great day.

“𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩 𝐛𝐚𝐠”

a/n: thank you, have a great day as well!

blue lock manager! gf can be the same age as them to make things easier! (reader is too smart for this world and got a full-time job early lmao)

another a/n: i’m stuck between writing angst and writing crack headcanons idk (yes i chose a random header image this is my humor 💔)

ft. shidou ryusei, itoshi rin, kaiser michael, itoshi sae, nagi seishiro, isagi yoichi

shidou ryusei

you were just doing your job like the incredible and competent manager you were, wrapping a bandage around one of the players’ thighs after a nasty slide tackle. 

and that was the moment you felt it – a murderous aura radiating from somewhere behind you. 

you turned your head slightly… and there he was, standing at the edge of the field with his hands on his hips, watching you with the most “i am one intrusive thought away from prison” expression you’ve ever seen. 

you weren’t sure if he was jealous of the player or the fact that he wasn’t the one getting manhandled by you. 

but oho, shidou made sure everyone knew exactly what was going through his mind. 

“hey. you got a license for that, princess?” he called out, his voice loud enough for the entire field to hear. 

everyone kinda just… stared at him like “bro what???”

then he casually strolled over and plopped down beside you, practically shoving the injured player away with his knee. 

“i’m next. wrap me up, baby,” he grinned, completely ignoring the fact that he had zero injuries. 

“shidou, you’re not hurt,” you deadpanned. 

“my heart is. you’re out here playin’ nurse with other guys,” he smirked dramatically, holding his chest like he was about to faint. 

that was the moment you realized you were doomed. 

“wait… you’re dating him?” one of the players finally asked, pointing at shidou. 

“dating? nah,” shidou snickered, throwing an arm around your shoulders and grinning maniacally, “i’m her full-time problem. she’s just lucky i’m hot.”

itoshi rin

rin was trying so hard to play it cool. 

but the moment he saw you kneeling on the field, gently holding a player’s ankle to wrap it with bandages, he damn near dislocated his own neck from how fast he turned to glare at you. 

he clenched his jaw, muttering under his breath like, “you’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

if this scene were in anime, his eyes would be glowing red and his entire body would be surrounded by that ominous black aura. 

he didn’t say anything at first, just stared, so hard that the player getting bandaged started getting visibly uncomfortable. 

when you finally finished and stood up, rin suddenly appeared behind you like a final boss. 

“you’re done, right?” he muttered, staring daggers at the poor, confused player. 

you were like, “uh… yeah?”

but before you could even blink, rin grabbed your wrist in front of everyone and dragged you off the field like a caveman escorting his woman back to the cave. 

“rin, what the hell are you –”

“you were touching him.”

“wha – he was injured???”

rin didn’t care. he just turned around and deadass blurted, “you’re my girlfriend. stop touching other guys.”

there was a brief silence. then someone from the bench went: 

“…wait. since WHEN?!” 

rin, realizing he just accidentally revealed your entire relationship, muttered, “shit,” under his breath and immediately walked off.

he avoided eye contact with everyone for the next three hours. 

but you could still see the tips of his ears turning red every time someone smirked at him. 

kaiser michael

it started with a minor ankle sprain from one of his teammates. 

nothing serious, you just crouched down, carefully assessing the injury with your delicate and professional manager hands. 

kaiser, who was initially ignoring the entire scene, suddenly felt his eye twitch when he saw you applying pressure to the player’s calf with your bare hands. 

and that was it. his brain glitched. 

he stormed over without hesitation, yanked your clipboard out of your hand, and slapped it against the injured player’s leg. 

“here. use this.”

you blinked in confusion.

“kaiser, what –”

“don’t you have gloves or something?” he snapped, his eye twitching again. 

you gave him a blank stare. “… for bandaging an ankle?”

“yes. gloves. anything that keeps you from touching him with your bare hands,” he muttered, scowling. 

the injured player blinked up at him like “bro you good???”

and then, because kaiser had no filter, he added, “she doesn’t touch anyone but me.”

the entire field went dead silent.

one of the benched players went, “uh, excuse me?”

but kaiser, completely unbothered, just smirked, leaned down, and kissed your forehead right in front of everyone before turning back to practice. 

“she’s my personal medic. keep your hands off.”

you, sitting there with wide eyes, realized there was no turning back. 

the next day, you were trending online as “kaiser’s girl” and he was so smug about it. 

itoshi sae

sae was already grumpy after a long practice, and the last thing he wanted to see was you touching some random dude’s calf while applying ice. 

you, being the sweet and professional manager you were, were focused on being helpful. 

sae, meanwhile, was staring at you with the most judgmental boyfriend glare of all time. 

and then the player winced and accidentally grabbed your wrist. 

sae was across the field in 0.3 seconds. 

“get your hands off her.”

the entire field turned toward him like 👁️👄👁️

the player immediately let go of you and started stammering, “s-sorry, i didn’t mean to –”

sae didn’t even look at him. he was laser-focused on you. 

“you. come here.”

you blinked in confusion. “huh?”

“now.”

you stood up and walked over to him, only for sae to grab your wrist again and deadass say, “she’s mine.”

the entire team went, “WHAT???”

and then sae, realizing he just exposed your secret relationship, simply muttered,

“oh.”

he quickly turned around and walked off without saying anything else. 

the next practice, everyone was making fun of him. 

shidou: “sooo… when’s the wedding, lover boy?”

rin: “pathetic.”

sae: “i hate all of you.”

nagi seishiro

nagi was napping on the bench until he heard your voice. 

he peeked one eye open, only to see you bandaging a player’s arm with your gentle, caring hands. 

he didn’t like it. not one bit.

without saying a word, he casually strolled over and collapsed on top of you like a human-sized koala. 

“nagi! what are you –”

“mmm. comfy,” he mumbled against your shoulder, making himself at home. 

you were literally pinned underneath his entire weight, trying to shove him off, but he only clung tighter, his limbs practically draping over you like a weighted blanket. 

the injured player blinked at the scene in confusion. “uh… is he okay?”

nagi, without lifting his head, muttered sleepily, “mine.” 

you stared at him, wide-eyed. “… what?”

“you’re mine,” he repeated, voice muffled against your skin, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. 

the entire field went silent.

the player you were bandaging glanced between the two of you, brows furrowed. “wait. are you two… together?”

nagi didn’t even lift his head.

“mmm. yeah,” he mumbled. “she’s my girlfriend.”

you could feel your soul leave your body.

the team, now fully aware of your not-so-secret relationship, was staring at you in shock. 

meanwhile, nagi stayed exactly where he was, fully prepared to take a nap on top of you, completely unfazed by the fact that he just exposed the two of you to the entire team. 

later, when you asked him why he did that, he just shrugged lazily and went, “too much of a hassle to keep it a secret.”

isagi yoichi

isagi was in the middle of practice, minding his business, being the good, hard-working soccer boy he was, when he saw you crouched down on the field, tending to someone’s knee. 

at first, he didn’t think much of it, until he noticed just how close you were leaning toward the guy. 

and that’s when his brain started spiraling. 

“wait. why is she holding his leg like that? … wait. is she… she’s SMILING???”

isagi tried to focus on practice, but his passes were getting sloppy because he kept glancing over at you. 

then, as if to personally ruin isagi’s life, the injured player casually rested his hand on your thigh for balance while you were wrapping his knee. 

and that was it. isagi blacked out. 

before he even realized what he was doing, he was storming over like a man on a mission. 

he didn’t say a word. just gently grabbed your wrist and yanked you off the field. 

you blinked up at him, startled. “yoichi? what are you –”

“you’re my girlfriend.”

you: ???

the injured player: ???

the entire field: ???

isagi, suddenly realizing what he just blurted out in front of everyone, stared at you like a deer caught in headlights. 

“…i, uh, i mean –” he stammered, his face turning bright red. 

but it was too late. the damage was done. 

shidou (grinning like the menace he was): “ooohhh. so that’s why you’ve been smiling at your phone like a dumbass.”

kaiser: “figures. he plays like a lovesick golden retriever half the time.”

nagi (half-asleep): “mmm. knew it.”

isagi, face redder than a stop sign, sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck.

and now every single one of his teammates was planning to make fun of him for the next 10-15 business years. 

© 𝐤𝐱𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢

[gf2bellamy]

Hi!

If it's alright, can I please request Spencer finding out that the cute new neighbour he has a crush on works is now working in the FBI as her new job (whether or not she's a profiler for the bau can be up to you) or maybe vice versa where there's a cute new hire at work and Spencer is head over heels for her only to find out later that she is his neighbour?

next-door — spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader ( no use of y/n ) content warnings: reader is new to the team ( a month or so ) , mention of working on a case a/n: hiii !! hope you like this <3

Spencer Reid had always considered himself a creature of habit. His life was structured, predictable in its own way, and he liked it that way.

But everything changed the moment you sat down next to him on the jet, flashing a smile that made his heart race.

You were new. New to the team, new to the world he’d known so intimately for years, and Spencer couldn’t help but feel intrigued by you.  

“I like your socks,” you said, pointing to his mismatched pair.

Spencer blinked, caught off guard by the unexpected compliment. He glanced down at his socks, as if seeing them for the first time. They were mismatched, as usual—one blue, one red—and he was pretty sure he’d been teased about them once or twice by the rest of the team. 

To his surprise, you pulled your feet up onto the seat next to you, showing him your own mismatched socks—one striped, one with dots.

“Thanks,” he stammered, his voice betraying him as his cheeks flushed slightly. “I… I like yours too.” 

“I guess we’re sock twins,” you said with a grin, your eyes sparkling.

He nodded with a small smile, suddenly aware of the way his heart was beating a little faster than usual.

The rest of the day blurred by , but every moment spent with you only cemented the fact that he was more drawn to you than he had ever been to anyone. Spencer found himself thinking about you constantly. 

By the time the week came to an end, Spencer was completely smitten, his thoughts consumed by you.

He couldn’t stop replaying every moment you’d shared—the way you laughed at his jokes, how your eyes crinkled at the corners when you smiled, and the way your voice sounded when you said his name.

When you sat next to him on the jet again, he couldn’t help but feel his heart flutter as you greeted him with that same warm, easy smile.

The jet ride was much the same as it had been before—quiet, with the whirring of engines in the background—but all Spencer could focus on was you.

As he attempted to read his book on the metro ride home, his mind kept wandering back to you. Every word on the page blurred together.

When he arrived at his apartment building later that night, Spencer paused at the door to his apartment. He glanced back down the hallway, noticing a car he didn’t recognize parked outside. His brow furrowed as he brushed it off.

But as he walked up the stairs, something caught his attention, a familiar voice carrying down the hallway. 

“Yeah, Garcia, I think I could make it on Sunday,” you mumbled into your phone. Spencer froze, his heart pounding in his chest as he realized the voice was yours. He looked up, only to spot you standing at the end of the hallway, speaking softly into your phone. 

You must’ve heard him then, because your head snapped up, eyes meeting his. The phone call ended abruptly, and your mouth dropped open in surprise as you took a step toward him.

“Garcia, I’ll call you later,” you said before hanging up, a wide grin spreading across your face. “Spencer, hi.” 

Spencer’s feet seemed glued to the floor as he processed the sight before him. There you were, standing at the door of the apartment next to his. He blinked twice, wondering if his mind was playing tricks on him.

“We’re neighbors?” he asked, his voice betraying a mix of confusion and disbelief. 

You smiled even wider, as though the idea was just as strange to you. “Apparently so,” you said with a small laugh.

Spencer stood there, staring at you, his heart still racing. He had spent the past week thinking about you more than he should have—more than he had thought himself capable of. And now, as if fate had played some elaborate trick on him, you were standing right there.

His mind scrambled to form a coherent thought, but all he could manage was, “This is… unexpected.” 

You let out a soft chuckle, tilting your head slightly. “Yeah, I’d say so.” Your eyes scanned his face. “I hope that’s not a problem?” you asked, raising an eyebrow. 

A problem? Spencer nearly laughed at the idea. If anything, it was the opposite. He shook his head a little too quickly. “No. Not a problem at all.” 

Your smile deepened. “Good,” you said simply. 

For a moment, there was only silence. Spencer’s brain worked on overdrive, his mouth opening and closing as if debating whether or not to say something more.

You seemed to notice his hesitance because your smile turned a little softer. “Well, I should probably get inside. It’s late.” 

Spencer nodded, stepping aside as you turned toward your door. But then, just as your hand reached the doorknob, something in him panicked at the thought of the moment ending. 

“Wait,” he blurted out, surprising even himself. 

You paused, glancing over your shoulder with curiosity. “Yeah?” 

His brain scrambled for something—anything—reasonable to say. “Um… do you—” He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. He was an agent, for God’s sake, yet talking to you felt harder than solving complex behavioral patterns. “Do you like—uh—coffee?” 

The second the words left his mouth, he wanted to smack himself. Of course, you liked coffee. Most people did. What kind of question was that? But instead of laughing at him, you simply smiled, leaning against your doorframe. 

“I do,” you answered slowly, amusement flickering in your eyes. “Why?” 

Spencer swallowed, feeling strangely warm under your gaze. “There’s a coffee shop a few blocks away. I usually go there on Saturdays.” He shifted on his feet. “Would you, um… want to come with me?” 

Your lips pressed together, as if hiding a smirk. “Are you asking me on a date, Dr. Reid?” 

Spencer felt his face burn instantly. “No! I mean—yes? Maybe? Only if you want it to be! It doesn’t have to be. It could just be coffee. Or not. If you don’t want to. I just thought—” 

You laughed, cutting off his rambling with a shake of your head. “Relax, Spencer.” You grinned, reaching for your door handle again. “Sunday sounds great.” 

Spencer blinked, processing your words as his brain short-circuited. “Really?” 

“Really,” you confirmed, biting back another smile. “Goodnight, neighbor.” 

And with that, you disappeared into your apartment, leaving Spencer standing in the hallway, heart hammering, mind spinning, and a smile slowly spreading across his face. 

[pearlsthatwereeyes]

This post makes me think of my old boss, who first arrived in the US on a student visa to go to college in NYC.

He worked his way through school as a parking lot attendant, but at one point, he fell behind on his tuition payments, and his college took him to court for non-payment of tuition.

My boss—who broke the mold in both strategic thinking and charisma and later became a brilliant attorney—showed up to court in his parking attendant uniform, and as soon as the judge walked in, he called out cheerfully, “Good morning, my lord!”

That got the judge’s attention, and he was immediately like, “Uh, good morning. Where are you from?”

“Nigeria, my lord!”

“Oh, welcome to the United States—“

“Thank you, my lord!”

“But just so you know, here a judge is called ‘your honor,’ not ‘my lord’”

“Oh, I’m so sorry, thank you for telling me, my lord—I mean, your honor!”

The judge goes on to ask my boss how he’s finding the United States (loves it, thank you, my l—I mean, your honor) and why he’s wearing what he’s wearing.

“I’m sorry, your honor, but I’m working my way through school, and I have to go to work right after this and don’t have time to go home to change.”

“Where do you work?”

“At [Parking Company] in [the next state over, about an hour away], your honor.”

“Wait, you’re working your way through school? Where are you going to school?”

“At [College], your honor.”

“…you’re STILL A STUDENT at the school that is suing you?!”

“Yes, your honor.”

By this point, the judge is openly glaring at the school’s attorney, who tries to make stammering excuses. He orders the attorney to meet with my boss to discuss a reasonable payment plan (emphasis his) and adjourns the session.

At this point, when telling me the story, my boss paused, broke out grinning, and said, “What I didn’t tell him was that I had been a clerk of the court in Lagos for several years before coming to the US to study. Of course I knew what an American judge was called.”

He brought that same energy to his law practice, where he worked legal miracles for immigrant clients every single day.

Rest in peace, Martin. You were a freaking superhero.

this is my all time favourite post I've ever seen on reddit everyone read it please

[bewaryofpity]

can i request luke hughes w smut prompt 16 🫶🏻

thank you for requesting ! 🩶

16. “It's my thigh or nothing. I'm not helping you get off.”

tw for consensual somnophilia (for a small second)

.

Hot breaths hit the back of your neck as Luke let his wet dream control his body, hips grinding against your back, hand occasionally squeezing at your tit, all while thinking he was doing it in his own world.

The sun peeked through the curtains and hit his eyes, opening them and adjusting to the light before he realized that his hips were still moving on their own, chasing the same pleasure he, unfortunately, was only feeling in his dream. His cock was painfully hard and the tip already red and leaking, a small wet patch forming on his boxers.

He could stroke himself next to you, maybe rub up your ass like he had done in his sleep, but when he looked at your body, peacefully resting, he couldn’t resist the urge to slide between your thighs. Touching himself through his boxers, he tried to think of ways to wake you up, you’d know how to make him feel good, yet in that moment he remembered your words from a few weeks ago.

Luke pulled the covers off you just a bit, just so he could get a glimpse of your cute pink panties covering your ass, shaky breaths leaving his lips as you were full on display for him, so pretty and so soft. He took off his boxers completely, shy as he realised he was the only one fully naked now. But that didn’t stop his intentions.

Turning back on his side, he pumped his cock with slow strokes, tip bumping into the fabric of your underwear and staining it with his pre cum. And he couldn’t wait any longer now, he needed you.

So he took a hold of the plush skin of your thigh, holding it firmly in his hand as he slid his length in between, whimpering at the pressure. Lost in the way your thighs hugged him tight, forehead resting between your shoulder blades, he didn’t hear your soft moan signaling you were finally waking up.

“That’s my boy,” you whispered, reaching for his hand to bring to your tits. Luke stilled for a second, embarrassed that he got caught getting off with your thighs while you were sleeping, but the way your hips rolled back into him got him right on moving again.

“Please can you—” he stuttered between whines. “Can you touch me?”

“Oh no baby, it's my thighs or nothing. I'm not helping you get off.” You teased. If he was that desperate that he couldn’t wait for you to wake up, then all he deserved was to help himself on his own. You did give him the green light to use you while you were asleep if he wanted to, but that was all, for him to use you, so there was no way you would had helped getting him off.

Luke kept his pace quick and pointed, brain short circuiting as your soft skin rubbed against his flushed cock, your panties catching on him and adding that little roughness he didn't know he needed. But between frustration and desire, he was getting overwhelmed and you were having no mercy on him.

“Let yourself go, Lu,” you said. And between your words, your sweet morning voice, and your fingertips brushing at his tip with every single one of his thrusts, he spilled all over your thighs, white streaks dripping onto the sheets. Hips stumbling as he chased his high, he let himself nuzzle his face in your neck, almost hiding, embarrassed at how little it took for him to come.

“My sweet boy,” you cooed, turning around to praise him exactly like he deserved, and maybe this time, give him a hand for another round.

[bullet-prooflove]

This God Damn Fucking Day: Jack Abbot x Reader

Tagged: @kmc1989 @dizzybee03 @noxytopy @flyinglama @yousigned-upforthis

Companion piece to:

The Asshole King - Jack discovers you have an unusual technique for dealing with patients.

Bob Dylan - You help Jack to relax after an incident at the hospital leaves him temporarily blind.

Because Of You - Jack realises he's starting to heal in more ways than one after you spend the day taking care of him.

Boston - You reflect on the past after your ex-husband makes an appearance on a trying day.

Up until the day your ex-husband Richard infiltrates The Pitt, Jack has a very fixed image of the man. He imagines him to be older, portly, Freudian, nothing like the GQ model that steps through the door with a con man’s smile.

There isn’t a single thread of silver in his dark hair despite the fact he’s five years older than Jack and his beard is immaculately groomed to the point of being designer. He wears a navy blue tailored suit that costs more than a nurse’s yearly salary and a cologne he allegedly picked up in Paris during his last conference with the Royal College of Psychiatrists where he was a keynote speaker on manipulation and obsessive behaviour.

The irony of that is not wasted on Jack, considering this asshole has a master’s degree in mind games, which is why he’s here in The Pitt, wrapping his arm around your waist and guiding you into the empty family room before you even know which way is up.

Every single fibre of Jack’s being tells him to intervene, to murder this smug son of a bitch and then stuff his corpse into the overpriced Mercedes that’s parked outside but he doesn’t because he made a promise to let you handle this, because this was always an inevitability.

You knew as soon as Richard heard you were getting married again that he’d try and waltz his way into your life. He doesn’t want you of course, he never did. He just doesn’t want anyone else to have you.

“That Peach’s ex-husband?” Myrna questions, scootching her wheel chair alongside his work station. “He looks like an asshole.”

Peach is what she’s been calling you ever since she cottoned onto the princess nicknames he’d been using. He’s quit with that now but Myrna keeps it up. He’s been Sweet Cheeks for over a decade now because she has a thing for the way his ass looks in scrubs. Robby got off lucky with Fruitcake.

“You know I can’t discuss Doctor Doran’s personal life.” He mutters as he busies himself with his patient charts.

“Uh Sweet Cheeks.” Myrna says, the back of her hand slapping against his forearm. “I think you need to get in there before she kills him.”

Sure enough, Jack’s head jerks up just in time to see you break Richard’s nose. He stumbles back as blood erupts from his nostrils, jetsoning all over his thousand dollar shirt. Jack’s on his feet in an instant, the wheely chair he’s sitting on crashing into the wall behind him as he hurtles towards the family room, his sneakers squeaking on the tiles.

There’s two things that happen when you get punched in the face, you fight or flight and he can tell from the look in that asshole’s eyes he’s about to fight. He already has his hands on you by the time Jack gets through the door, gripping your arms, shaking you and you respond by attempting to claw his motherfucking eyes out.

“He fucking slept with her. He fucked Abby!” You snarl as he gets in between the two of you, his palm on Richard’s chest shoving him away from you. “You were supposed to be helping her!”

“I was helping her, I helped her the same way I helped you!” Richard snaps back, cupping his nose to stem the bleeding. “Jesus fucking Christ, I didn’t realise how much of a bitch you’ve turned into since coming back here. You’re just as deranged as she was!”

You lose your shit then and Jack just about manages to get his arms around you, caging you in so you don’t commit a fucking homicide in the family room.

“Honey.” He says calmly, his forehead coming to rest upon yours, grounding you. “You need to take a walk and let me deal with this.”

“Jack-” You protest.

“Faye.” He asserts, looking into your eyes. “My E.D, my rules. Go take a breather.”

Your jaw clenches as you look away. He’s going to be paying for this tonight, he knows he is but he doesn’t care. He needs to get you out of this situation. He waits for you to leave, the door closing quietly behind you before he turns to face Richard.

“You’ve got her trained well-”

He drives his fist into Richard’s gut, hard enough to hurt like hell but not enough to do internal damage. His fingers wind through the other man’s hair, grasping it tightly as he yanks his head up to meet his gaze.

“You come near her again and I will end you.” He tells the other man, his eyes blazing. “Faye is off limits. You fuck with her, you fuck with me and trust me the shit that I could do to you wouldn’t leave marks, just pain, life altering fucked up pain that will make you wish that you were dead.”

He thrusts Richard away from, causing him to collide with the wall as he tries to catch his breath. Jack reaches for a box of tissues, tossing them onto the chair closest to him.

“You’ve got ten minutes to clean yourself up. If you’re still here when I get back, I’ll make sure to finish what she started.”

He leaves the room, closing the door behind him. His eyes coming on rest on the vacant wheelchair, an empty pair of handcuffs swinging from the armrest.

“This fucking day.” He mutters to himself before he goes in search of Myrna. “This god damn fucking day.”

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[woollypoison]

High-definition closure

Male reader x Itzy Chaeryeong a/n: a little mini-story I got challenged to in between bigger stories. I wanted to limit myself to 1k words. I failed. Word count: 1.1k

Chaeryeong's mascara was already ruined when she got here, but if she were to ask you, you'd say you preferred it this way. You only wish it were you that created the black streaks dragging down her cheeks. She hasn’t bothered to fix it. Maybe she thinks it completes the look—like she’s some princess that has just been cursed, like it's a sign for other men to ask her what's wrong before falling into her jaws. Hints of plum and chamomile stick to her, but the scent is mixed with the salt of dried tears and the faintest trace of vanilla vodka, her favorite alcohol.

She's wearing this loose off-shoulder sweater, just oversized enough to look careless, like she pulled it on without thinking, but you know better. The sleeves slip past her wrists, swallowing her hands when she lets them, but right now they’re bunched up, exposing the sharp angle of her collarbone. A short skirt clings to her waist, stopping high enough to show off soft, bare thighs—bare except for the black thigh-highs hugging her legs, the only thing about her outfit that looks deliberately put together.

She's a frantic storm of emotions, and there's nothing slow about it. Her hand around your wrist jams downwards, slipping underneath her skirt, sliding lace to the side, pressing your fingers against wet heat with a knowing little smirk. The first sensible thing she's done since getting here and screaming about her now ex.

"Feel that?" she purrs, voice silky, sultry and smokey bravado. "You should really take advantage of that while you still can."

You exhale through your nose, noncommittal, but you don't pull away. Instead, you press your fingers into her, feel the way she clenches around them, her walls hot and her smirk turning needy. Her whole body shivers at the touch as a breath gets forcefully ejected out of her. It's nice—good, even—until she ruins it all by opening her mouth again.

"God, he was such an asshole," she groans, head tipping back. "You know what he said when he dumped me? That I was too much. Too needy. Like, what the fuck does that even mean?"

You huff, pushing two fingers inside her, making her gasp, and not in surprise. "I don’t know. Sounds like he had a point."

Her eyes snap to yours, mouth parting in indignation. "Excuse me?"

"You’ve been talking about him for ten minutes," you say, tone flat. "While I’m literally inside you. He might’ve had a point."

She scoffs, lifting herself just enough to slam down against your hand, making a point of grinding into your palm. "Yeah? And yet here you are, knuckle-deep and not stopping."

"Doesn’t mean I wanna hear about him."

“Then shut me up,” she challenges you audaciously, the taunt accentuated by the rolling of her hips against your hand. “You’re man enough for that, aren’t you? Making one sad little girl shut the fuck up?” Your thumb presses into her clit with force like a warning. Her breath stutters at the figurative growl you gave her, fingers tightening against your shoulders. “Better?” you ask, bored. You keep working her, fingers curling, thumb circling, taking your time with it. Her thighs start to shake, her body pressing harder against yours. She’s wet, practically dripping, and you could push her over the edge right now if you wanted to. But she just does not know when to shut the fuck up. And maybe that is your fault.

“God,” she begins, but it’s not a moan. “I can’t believe how much time I wasted on that asshole,” she rambles on, frustrated herself and frustrating you. "Three years. Three years of listening to his bullshit, letting him act like I was the problem. Like I should’ve been grateful for the bare minimum."

“Uh-huh.” Your eyes roll back in annoyance, and you make another attempt at making hers do the same but in ecstasy. “Like, seriously, you wouldn’t believe—” she cuts herself off as a third finger of yours slips inside her, sucking in a breath as sharp as her complaints. “Fuck. Okay. That’s—okay.” “You were saying?” you prompt, but regret it the moment you do. Shouldn’t even give her a chance to talk about this bullshit. She glares back at you, the dark in her eyes meshing with the black of her messy make-up, but she doesn’t answer. She exhales, heaving, rising and falling on your fingers as she presses her chest against yours, finding her phone she tossed somewhere near you earlier. You feel her fingers tap at the screen before she grins down at you.

"I just had the best idea."

You already know it’s not. "Doubt it."

"We should send him a picture. You know, show him what he’s missing."

You blink. "You wanna send your ex a dick pic."

"No, no. A me-with-your-dick pic. Very different. Tasteful. Artistic. Guaranteed to make him angry."

You sigh, slipping your fingers out of her, resting your hand on her hip instead. "That’s fucking stupid."

"That’s closure."

"That’s unhinged."

She grins. “When a girl just got dumped, those two are basically the same thing.” There’s no energy left inside your soul to argue with her. She smirks like she’s won, then slides down, settling between your legs. You watch, half-lidded, as she presses a teasing kiss just above the tip of your cock, phone in one hand, camera pointed down.

"You’re serious about this?" you ask, amused despite yourself.

"Dead serious." She kisses the tip lightly, just enough to make your jaw tighten. "Think about it—he gets a notification, opens it up, sees me like this, working a cock that's at least twice his size. Tell me that wouldn’t ruin his fucking night."

"Or get you blocked immediately."“I can live with that as long as he sees it first. Besides, you’re doing a lot of complaining for someone who’s getting his dick kissed by a girl as pretty as me.”

She’s clearly using you, but the thought doesn’t upset you. You lean back against the couch, thinking this relationship should be a two way street, fingers gracing the side of her face, threading into her hair.

“If you’re sure about making him mad,” you murmur, grasping handfuls of her hair on the back of her head, “you should commit fully and do it properly.”

And then you push her down, the full length of your cock disappearing into the warmth of her throat just as the camera shutter clicks and her mouth sputters, gagging as you push her further than her ex ever reached.

[somuchanxietysolittletime]

I know I already reblogged this. I know I am now reblogging this from a mutual who is JUST as fed up with the Democratic party as I am. And I know I am SO TIRED of their inaction too, but at the same time... like... it must be so demoralizing and frustrating to be a Democrat in office right now because MAGA LOVES it when they pitch a rightful fit.

Make no mistake, behind their whataboutisms and whinging about decorum, MAGA is run by a bunch of fucking trolls. They cater to fucking trolls. Their base is full of fucking trolls. These are some of the most immature, bratty, evil-hearted individuals on the planet and they want nothing more than to see Liberals and Leftists lose their shit over abuses of power and abject cruelty. It's why they are doing it.

If you ever see a moment where fascism is out in full light and wonder, 'How do they get away with this???' it's because they know it pisses you off, and they love it. It's a power game. They get control, and they get emotional satisfaction from watching the other side scream bloody murder.

This is one big performance piece.

Normally, if this was an online forum (Speaking from experience as a former professional moderator), this is where the adults in the room step in. We'd remind people to not feed the trolls, ban those involved, remind users of community guidelines, and tighten up our sweeps to make sure to catch stragglers.

But the Republicans have spent the past ten-ish years getting rid of the adults in the room. There are no moderators anymore. And any time someone tries to step into that role, like judges trying to reign in Trump's power, they are threatened by the very institutions they are trying to protect.

And Republicans would love nothing more than to be able to say Democrats have become a party of dissidents who must be expelled from Congress and lose what little power they still have in the government. It would make them SO happy to have even the smallest excuse to do so.

Make no mistake, I am in no way excusing their inaction. We can't fight fashion by color-coordinating it out of existence. Pink suits doesn't stop the fact that we're two steps from pink triangles again.

I also would like to point to the excellent video by Innuendo Studios called The Alt-Right Playbook: You Go High, We Go Low. In it he touches on a big failure of liberals: Their reliance on invisible rules that Republicans don't play by or even believe in. Essentially, liberals never play dirty. They govern like they sincerely believe that if they follow the playbook, eventually a referee will come in and call they game for them.

There is no referee. They were all shot by Trump in the middle of mainstreet and no one who matters, cares.

The problem is, Liberals should have been playing dirty ten years ago. Now they will have to work twice as smart and three times as hard, while trying to avoid giving fascist trolls an excuse to seize more power.

Can anybody give these old-ass Democrats protest lessons? They're acting like they're still living in pre-2015 politics when the GOP gave a shit and wasn't deranged.

A member gets up and starts shouting: All get up and shout with him.

Don't walk out: MAKE them carry you all out, not shutting up the entire time. I'm serious, go limp, be dead weight.

Putin's Puppet says a provable lie: Everyone chant "LIE" in unison for a solid minute instead of holding pitiful little signs in front of a man who can't read above a 3rd grade level.

Have someone who knows ASL sitting with you, interpreting everything in full view.

If you're gonna hold signs, make them BIG like you're actually trying to do something. Have them in multiple languages.

Make other signs that say clever or cutting things that will make him rage for days. "DOESN'T OLD TRUMP LOOK TIRED?" or "PUPPET PRESIDENT" or "EVERYONE IS FACT-CHECKING THIS SPEECH TRUMP DIDN'T WRITE" or "THE EMPEROR HAS NO CLOTHES" or his current tanking approval rating next to a laughing emoji.

Make a stink every day in congress, throw as many bills as you can on the floor even if they go nowhere, look like you're trying.

Have someone, idk maybe someone you actually want to boost for President in 3 gd years, be your voice of opposition in the media, loudly complaining and telling the facts, every single day. Let the people know you're there!

How hard is this? There's probably better suggestions than mine if they actually hired seasoned protestors or behaviorists/psychologists or even the biggest teenage troll they can find on a messageboard.

The Emperor Has No Clothes. So fucking act like it.

[lulualuana]

Miss me?

writing and uploading something twice within the same month? unheard of

wc: 919

cw: car sex, semi-public sex, little rough, dirty talk, teensy bit of praise, p in v sex, unprotected sex (wrap that thang yall!), creampie, i think that's it..

enjoy?

The way Leon’s fingers gripped your ass was utterly sinful, blunt nails digging into your flesh just enough to add a light sting to the mind-numbing pleasure you both felt. 

When he promised to take you out for dinner after being away for so long on a mission, you knew full well that the night would end with the two of you getting a little more than frisky, you just didn’t think that you would both get a little too impatient to wait the drive back to your apartment. 

That’s how you ended up in the backseat of Leon’s car, hands gripping his shoulders in an attempt to ground yourself as he bounced your body up and down, your nails digging into his skin a lot more bitingly than his did to yours as the windows quickly fogged up. It felt so fucking good, and he knew as much. It was why he was so cocky about it, the filthiest of dirty talk spilling from his lips as he worked you up and down his cock. 

“Fuck, you like that don’t you, baby? Like bouncing on my cock like this?” His words are met with a string of ‘yes’s and many other blissed-out curses that has him groaning at how needy you sound, his grip on you tightening. You were sure to have marks the shape of his fingers later from it. 

“What part do you like about this the best, huh?” He asks in a breathy growl, not really expecting you to answer. He could tell from your expression, he wasn’t going to get much out of you any time soon. Except an orgasm, of course. Your was head tipped back, eyes screwed shut and jaw slack as you rambled about how good his dick felt. Fuck did it boost his ego. 

“Like feeling me nice and deep inside you?” He continues, lifting and dropping you down in a particularly sharp motion that he worsens as he bucks his hips up into yours, his dick nudging deep enough to have your eyes crossing. “Or maybe you just like that anyone walking by can catch us, huh?” His words spark a dizzying amount of nervousness beneath the muddled mess that was your thoughts, but it's contradicted by the way you squeeze around Leon so tight. 

Someone could walk by and just see you two. You hadn’t chosen the most secluded spot before you got fed up with not having Leon inside you, and while his windows were tinted, you were sure that the car rocking and your loud moans gave any potential pedestrians a clear image of what you were really doing. 

You want to think about it a little more, maybe put a pin in the joyride and continue someplace that’s a little more private and protected.. but where’s the fun in that? Where’s the fun in thinking reasonably? You’d be lying if you said the potential of being caught didn’t arouse you in an inexplicable way, and you’d be lying even more if you said you had the capacity to think about anything other than Leon right now anyway. What was the point in thinking about anything other than your boyfriend fucking you so damn good in the back seat of his car after being gone for 2 weeks? 

He seems to catch onto your line of thinking (or attempt at it) and gives you his own answer in the form of his hips snapping up into yours, stealing your attention right back. “Don’t worry baby, no one will catch us,” he soothes almost a little deceptively, his words like sweet honey in your ear when your grip on his shoulders falters in favor of your chest resting flush against his, your arms draped over his shoulders instead to hold him close as he works you. 

He’s practically just holding you in place at this point, fucking up into you good enough to reduce you to whimpers and pleas. “I’ll make you come before anyone can.” The sultry promise is too fucking good, combined with the way he drills into you, it’s not your fault when it has you reeling, pussy clamping around around him as stars pop beneath your shut eyes, back bowing under the pleasure. 

“Thaat’s it,” he drawls, still working his dick into you with more effort now, his jaw clenched tight despite the reverent way he gazes down at your shivering body, his own orgasm impending to match you own. “Look at you.” And he’s looking, that’s for damn sure. 

The pretty little dress you had worn to dinner was all sorts of twisted and rumpled, the tights you had worn beneath were torn along with your panties so he could get to you, your hair was a mess, your cheeks were flushed and your eyes had this glaze over them when you had finally opened your eyes to look at him. You looked like sex personified and if Leon were a stronger man he wouldn’t have come. But he wasn’t and here he was, his hips stuttering to a stop as pearly white warmth spilled into you, his head tipping back with a throaty groan to accompany the sensation. 

You both settle as he empties into you, chests heaving against one another as his grip on you finally softens, his fingers rubbing in a hope to soothe the ache that probably lingers beneath his touch. “So..” He starts, drawing your attention to the sly grin on his face. “Did you miss me?”

~~~

so what are you guys getting me for my birthday? :)

[agreeeeeeeeeee]

greening out | bitchkiller

feat Sirius Black x fem!reader x Barty Crouch Jr. cw: MDNI 18+, friends with benefits, intox kink, branding masterlist

“Oh, treasure, you're in your own world aren't you?” Barty cooed, petting your hair out of your eyes.

You couldn't respond, your tongue thick and stupid from the smoke hanging heavily on the air. You were leaned against Barty, his arm slung over your shoulders. Sirius was perched in the window, taking a drag from the offending joint between his long fingers.

“Poor darling,” Sirius hummed, blowing the smoke in your direction. “Got a little ambitious, did we?” He slid off the window sill, prowling towards you with familiar glint in his eye. He crouched down in front of you, beautiful and threatening as a lion. “Look at me,” he ordered, and you tried, you really did, but the room spun as soon as you lifted your head from Barty's shoulder.

“Let me help you, baby,” Barty grasped your chin, his fingertips digging into your cheeks as he turned your head towards Sirius.

“Hi, pretty girl,” Sirius said, his pale eyes searching your face. “You look awfully pitiful.”

“Helpless,” Barty purred, shaking your head a little to punctuate his point. You head spun, unable to keep your heavy eyes focused on Sirius like you knew he wanted.

“Perfect.” Sirius smiled at you, more vicious that friendly, his canines looking extra sharp in your addled mind.

“Siri,” you managed, voice barely above a whisper.

“Yes, doll?” He asked, knowing the nickname would get you all flustered, butterflies tickling your ribs.

Barty's lips found your neck, charting a path along your jugular to your pulse, where he sucked your skin between his teeth. Whatever you were going to ask Sirius drained out of your brain with a sinful moan, Barty's touch making your whole body tingle.

“Dumb little thing can't remember what she was going to ask me,” Sirius chuckled. “That's alright, doesn't matter anyways. There's only one thing you need to remember—” he rose to his full height, towering over you and Barty on the couch, “Right?”

You nodded, blinking up at him, his black hair haloed in the candlelight like saint.

“Tell me,” Sirius ordered, his dominance sending a thrill down your spine, your soupy brain submitting without resistance. Docile as a lamb.

“Open up,” you mumbled, heat singing your cheeks, like it always did no matter how many times they made you say it.

“Not so dumb after all,” Barty praised, digging his fingertips into the hinge of your jaw and forcing your mouth open wide.

Sirius smirked, taking another drag off the joint. Barty, with his free hand, began pawing at your shirt, tugging the buttons out of their little slots until your lacy bra was exposed, blouse falling off your shoulders to pool at your waist and around your wrists.

Sirius leaned forward, and instinctively you emptied your lungs for what you knew was coming next. He blew the smoke into your mouth, slowly, sensually, and you breathed it in obediently, letting the acrid warmth fill your poor body once more.

“Hold it,” Sirius instructed, so you did, your chest painfully tight, throat burning. He crouched down once again, pushing you back against the couch and sliding your skirt up your thighs. You whined in protest, lungs screaming for air, your head swimming. “Let it go,” he hummed, and you did. At the same moment, Sirius stamped the cherry of the joint against your inner thigh, branding you, and you yelped, jumping backwards into the couch. He held you in place though, shushing you with gentle kisses around the mark he left behind.

“Well done,” Barty cooed, wiping a tear as it rolled down your cheek. “So tough, huh? Such a brave girl.” Barty pet your hair, holding you close as you trembled, adrenaline pumping through your blood and creating a heady, delicious cocktail.

Your thighs flexed under Sirius’s hands, your clit throbbing against the fabric of your panties, and you whimpered, clumsy hands fisting Barty’s shirt.

“Oh, I think she liked that,” Barty hummed, tracing a feather light circle around the mark with his index finger.

Sirius tugged you roughly to the edge of the couch, grazing his thumb over the gusset of your panties. You jerked at the faint contact, a strangled moan falling from your lips. “I’d say so.” He pet you again, applying a little more pressure, and you bucked into his hand, gasping into Barty’s neck as pleasure shot through you.

You were so high, it was difficult to pinpoint where they were, whose hands were whose while they explored you, stripping off your clothing until you were bare and sprawled out on the couch. Sirius's head was still between your thighs, blowing another plume of smoke over your drooling cunt before laving his tongue through your folds. You cried out, your back bowing off the couch as the sensation washed over you.

Barty stood above you with a bottle of wine, his middle finger down the neck of it. He tipped it back, coating his finger in burgundy liquid, and held it over your chest, droplets of cool wine rolling down the valley of your tits. Moving quicker than your sluggish brain could process, Barty lapped up the mess with his tongue.

Not one to be left out, Sirius grabbed Barty by the hair and dragged him down, connecting their mouths in a hungry, sloppy french kiss.

When they broke apart, Barty lifted the bottle again, pouring a generous glug into Sirius's open mouth, some running down his chin to mix with your slick smeared there. Barty lapped it up, moaning at the taste.

Sirius dove back into your cunt, slurping at your entrance before swirling his tongue around your clit, unhurried and self-indulgent.

“His mouth feel good, love?” Barty asked, stroking your cheek with the backs of his fingers.

You nodded, breathless moans spilling freely from your lips.

Barty lit another joint, holding it out for you to hit. You took a tiny one, blowing the smog down towards Sirius, who glanced up at you through his long lashes, smirking against your clit.

“Insatiable, isn't she?” Barty said, taking a hit himself and chasing it with a swig of wine.

“Down right greedy,” Sirius agreed.

“I know just the thing for greedy little sluts.” Barty kneeled on the couch by your head, his cock straining against the fabric of his trousers, the invitation clear.

With half-numb fingers, you worked to undo his belt and zipper, freeing his pretty cock from its fabric prison. He shed his t-shirt at the same time and his length slapped up against his stomach, smearing precum over the tattoo below his navel.

You opened your mouth automatically, saliva pooling under your tongue at the sight of him looming over you, lazily pumping his cock with his fist.

“Look at her, mate. Fucking desperate.” Barty chuckled, tracing your lips with his cockhead, the salted taste of him making you dizzy.

Sirius hummed in approval, his eyes trained on the two of you while he worked your pussy with his tongue.

Barty fed his cock between your lips, thrusting until he hit the back of your throat and you winced, fresh tears springing your your eyes.

“Shh, there's a good girl. I'm gonna fuck your face now, alright? And you're going to lay there and take it.” It seemed they were both feeling less than kind tonight.

Distantly you felt Sirius move away from you, the radiating pleasure from your lower half fading, but you couldn't see him around Barty. But you didn't have to wonder where he’d gone for long.

Sirius tapped his cock against your clit, sending sparks of pleasure up your spine, sawing through your slick to coat himself before notching at your entrance.

Barty, sensing Sirius's plan, eased back out of your mouth, tip resting on the tip of your tongue.

“Tell me again, doll,” Sirius cooed, bringing your thigh up to wrap around his hip.

“Ophen umph,” you slurred, the weed and Barty's cock inhibiting your tongues ability to function.

“Gold stars for you, treasure,” Barty said, winking at Sirius.

In unison, they thrust forward, stuffing your mouth and cunt with hard, relentless cock. Your cry was muffled around Barty, Sirius's length splitting you down the middle, your skewed senses feeling everything at once. Sinful, debilitating bliss.

“Now that's a pretty sight,” Sirius said, grinding his pelvis against yours, the squelch of your cunt making your cheeks heat with embarrassment. “Like a center-fold whore.”

“So fucking perfect,” Barty praised, stroking your hair out of you face while he slowly thrust into your mouth, taking pity on you.

Sirius only hummed, groping your ass roughly before slapping it three times in rapid succession. You whined around Barty, trying to get your stupid limbs to cooperate and grind back on Sirius, get him to start fucking you, but you could barely keep your head up for Barty, your eyes open.

“You can do it, pet. C’mon. I know you wanna bounce on that cock,” Sirius chided, an edge of mockery in his voice. He pulled back, leaving just the tip inside of you, and laughed when you struggled to sink back onto him. “Pathetic, aren't you?”

Barty giggled, fucking your mouth a little harder so you couldn't talk back, his cock hot and heavy on your tongue, your eyes rolling back at the sweet moan spilling from his mouth. “There you go, just take it, baby,” Barty rasped, his head tipping back on his shoulders as he succumbed to the feeling. “Feels so fucking good.”

“Need a little help, sweetheart?” Sirius asked, voice dripping with condescension.

You nodded, tears rolling down your cheeks while you gagged on Barty's cock, desperation cloying under your skin, mixing with the weed to turn your thoughts to static, your mind to horny mush.

“C’mon, Black. You want it just as badly as she does, quit playing,” Barty chastised, though his eyes were teasing.

Sirius chuckled. “That's true, Junior. I do love this slutty little cunt.” He pushed back into you, and you mewled around Barty, walls clenching tight as if you could keep Sirius from withdrawing again.

The boys synchronized their thrusting, filling you completely before leaving you empty, over and over again. It was so intense, too intense, your body rapidly oscillating from overwhelming sensation to tingling numbness, pleasure and pain, until you felt that peak start to build in your core, raveling tighter and tighter.

Barty tightened his hold on your hair, thrusts going rougher, less rhythmic. “Fuck, baby. Open that throat for me—shit, good girl. I'm gonna—yes, tres, fucking take it.” His cock pulsed on your tongue, bucking against the back of your throat as the first scalding spray of release jetted from him.

You sucked him through it, eagerly swallowing everything he gave you and more, until he was trembling on his legs, broken moans dripping from his lips like the sweetest honey.

Barty slipped out of your mouth and dropped onto his knees, dragging your face to his for a messy, open-mouthed kiss, tongue delving past your lips to taste himself. “Such a good girl,” he murmured, laying a smacking kiss on your cheek and making you giggle, a burst of affection glowing in your chest.

“Junior, get behind her,” Sirius instructed, his voice strained, sweat collecting along his hairline. Barty obliged, sliding behind you and cupping your tits, toying with your hyper-sensitive nipples and kissing along your neck.

You leaned your weight on him, letting his body support you while Sirius railed into you, merciless in chasing his release. You weren't far from your own, completely adrift in the feeling of their bodies wrapped around you, climbing higher and higher.

“Gonna come for us, baby? Doesn't he feel so good stretching you out, dominating that greedy little hole?” Barty murmured in your ear, his hand snaking down to rub tight circles around your clit.

Sirius groaned, his grip growing painfully tight. “Don't make me force it out of you. C’mon, love, give me what's mine.”

You grabbed onto Barty’s arm, nails digging into his tattoos as your orgasm crested, taking you higher than any hit. Sirius fucked you through it until his own orgasm took hold and he pulled out, splattering your abdomen with streams of white.

The three you collapsed into a sticky heap on the couch, a tangle of sweaty limbs and half-discarded clothes, breathing hard in the foggy room.

“Anyone up for another?” Barty asked.

© agreeeeeeeeeee 2025. do not copy, translate or claim my writing as your own.