#and partly incoherent

[skleech]

Cyrus,,,

[technicalknockout]

Do you care her 💔

im going to be completely honest,, i am so torn on what to make of mko

[lamonnaie]

nani nani nani can’t fully explain it, but i feel like sky has something to do with why nani is showing this cute side of him more often now i’m not a longtime fan of nani, so this is just my opinion, but maybe this is his first time having someone like this—someone he’s truly in sync with. plus, they’re almost the same age, which might be a factor. i think nani has usually been with people who are younger than him, so that could have an impact too. it just feels like he and sky really understand each other—they click! i mean, those calls they always talk about, and how they mention they talk to each other all the time—it really shows how comfortable nani is. i can’t fully put it into words, but i hope my thoughts are coming through! 😭 remember in that interview with P’Leo? he said sky was like a “bottle opener,” letting people see this side of nani. 😔

yess i definitely agree !! iirc they even said before how they talk more softly to each other than to others, that's one of the things that rlly highlighted the difference between his dynamic with sky vs the f4 boys for example, and it definitely bleeds into the way he presents himself ?? just the way he's softer and cuter in public

i'm just glad that skynani got paired together and we got to see more of this side of nani :)) (coz idk if we would have rn otherwise)

[merlins-strawberriesandroses]

STOPP Merlin's worried and slightly panicked "No" when he hurries to say that he doesn’t know any spells after Gaius asks him 😭😭 (first episode, at around 13 minutes in).

(also like 30 second later when he looks SO PLEASED and grateful when Gaius offers him a sandwhich!!! AHHHHHHH).

edit: sorry I'm not done wanting to say something about this. I just think the smile is so sweet. he doesn't take acts of kindness for granted! morgana said he's a lover (and she was right) but he's also a cherisher :,)

[rindreamery]

out of breath, got me going like...

some of the attractive things that the blue lock men do. featuring: itoshi rin, itoshi sae, nagi seishiro, michael kaiser, oliver aiku, yukimiya kenyu ─ content: fluff, suggestive

note. yukki debut on my acc ??? do we fw the casual, less poetic writing cuz there was really no way to make this poetic 👩‍🦯 just astronomically down bad writing all around

itoshi rin sends you gym pics without you having to ask.

it initially took a lot of convincing, at first, to get rin to send you a picture. in his eyes, it was embarrassing— the idea of pulling his phone out mid-workout, taking a picture, sending it to you, and then going back to whatever he was doing. his mind would drift off to the weird stares he would probably get from others, and the fact that he also wasn’t exactly known for knowing how to pose to begin with. as much as he loved making you happy, there were just some things he was not willing to do.

it took a lot of begging, and for the first few months, the answer was always, “no.”

the first picture came unexpectedly. your phone was thrown off to the side of the bed, not really anticipating any texts from rin for the next hour or so, given the fact that he was at the gym. so you were surprised when you heard a familiar tune come from your phone— one specifically assigned to his contact. you had no idea why he would be texting you. 

you’re absolutely floored at what you see; jaw left hanging and eyes practically bulging out of their sockets, almost dropping the phone.

it's a gym picture. he's doing a normal pose, nothing too special. he’s standing in front of the mirror, one hand shoved into the pocket of his shorts, and the other holding onto his phone. his face was partly covered by his phone, but you could see the blush spread across his cheeks and the tips of his ears. but it wasn’t that that got your attention— no, it was something entirely different.

he was wearing a sleeveless compression shirt, giving you a full view of his arms. they were glistening in sweat and perfectly toned. the arm that was propping his phone up was slightly flexed, from the position it was in, adding to the bulk and definition in his biceps. and you could see the veins traveling up the arm of his hand, the one that was shoved into his pocket, crawling up from the back of his hand to his forearm. the bright overhead lighting, with a combination of the dim background lighting, served to emphasize every line and crevice of his exposed skin. 

“this what you wanted?” came a message right after, “i know you’re reading this right now, respond.” you felt weak. he definitely researched how to do this.

words couldn't describe how you felt. so, your immediate response was to send him a flurry of incoherent texts; a mixture of randomly pressed keys and crying emojis. but that’s what feeds his ego— your reactions are what makes smile smugly to himself, covering his lips with his hands as he reads your texts over. he starts to send you gym pictures more consistently after that, patiently waiting for your response after each one. at this point, it’s become a part of his gym routine.

itoshi sae drapes his arm over the back of your seat while reversing.

driving with sae was a true test of control— specifically, yours. it had become increasingly hard to focus whenever he was driving, with every little motion of his body seeming to pull your attention away from the road. he was just so distracting, to the point that you had started offering to drive instead. yet to no avail, because he always insisted on being the driver, furthering your silent suffering in the passenger's seat. but, there was nothing more testing than whenever he was reversing the car.

it’s an internal battle; it takes everything in you not to ogle him so openly. and somehow, you’re losing a battle to yourself.

it’s as if your eyes instantly become magnetized to sae— the way he moves when he rests his arm so casually, yet so securely, on the back of your headrest’s frame. and it doesn’t help that this position gives such a perfect view of him. the way the muscles in his arm ripple and flex ever so slightly, but visibly, under his loose dress shirt. the way his folded sleeves ride up every time, and the exposed part of his forearm constantly taunts you to take a peek. you hate that you suddenly become hyperaware of everything he does in that moment. especially his fingers, and the way they tickle the back of your neck, almost touching you but not quite there.

you have to hold back the subtle shudder that sweeps over your body.

it feels like he’s taking up so much space, demanding you to notice him. the way the scent of his cologne wafts over to you, the bergamot and sandalwood notes of it slowly overwhelming your senses. the faint shift in his posture, emphasizing the subtle stretch of his neck, giving you a view of his collarbones and necklace. and the way his lips curve ever so slightly when he speaks, his voice in a low tone, with his eyes flitting over to you momentarily before they’re back on the road.

it has to be intentional, he has to be aware of what he’s doing. “you’re doing this on purpose,” you mutter under your breath, willing yourself to turn away and look out the window.

“doing what on purpose?” he asks, but the mirth in his tone is evident— you can practically hear the tiny smirk that’s splayed on his lips. you’ve concluded that he’s sick in the head, that he’s playing with you right in your face. “i’m just making sure we don’t get into a crash, you baby.” and you willingly fall for it, every time.

nagi seishiro becomes clingy when it's just the two of you.

laying in your lap, while you’re absorbed in your own hobby, is one of nagi’s favorite pastimes. it keeps him close to you, but allows you both to do your own thing. sometimes, he’d take a nap while you work, one hand loosely holding onto yours in his sleep. other times, he’d play video games on his phone, making sure his volume is turned all the way down to not distract you. but most of the time, he likes to just lay there and admire you, with a barely noticeable smile on his lips.

but he becomes somewhat miffed whenever your hair falls in front of your face, blocking his (initially) flawless view of you. and it annoys him more whenever you don’t push it out of the way.

so, he decided to take it upon himself to move it for you, arm lazily stretched up to reach for you. you barely noticed it at first, so absorbed in the book that you were reading. the sensation of his fingers ghosting over your cheeks doesn’t register in your mind, and his touch is barely there. and then you feel it. his fingers are in your hair, gathering the strands on the back of his hand before he’s brushing it out of the way. it’s so gentle, the way he locks your hair behind your ear, and the way his hand lingers a little longer on your skin after. his fingers then travel from your ear to your jawline, finger lightly tracing the side of your jaw, and it makes you curl in on yourself at the feeling. (it tickles, but also oddly comforting.) and then, he’s pulling his arm back down to reach for your wrist instead, fingers wrapping around it.

your skin is tingling, and the surface of your skin feels warm— taken aback by the sudden act of affection. you glance down at him with a curious look, only to see that he’s already staring attentively at you, and you feel his hold on you tighten. “you know,” you begin, “you could’ve just asked me to do it for you.”

"you always get so lost in whatever you're doing," he mumbles slowly, his voice sounding almost whiney at the fact. his hand, the one firmly holding onto your wrist, is traveling up until it’s wiggling the book out of your hand. (you don’t miss the small furrow of his brows when you jokingly grip onto the book, before giving in and letting it fall to the side.) he takes this chance to intertwine your fingers, his larger hands completely enveloping yours. "i don't mind it, but i hate when i can’t see you."

michael kaiser holds intense eye contact with you when you're talking.

at times, you found it hard to talk to kaiser. he's constantly exuding such an intense confidence, one that's often present in his gaze, that you could never truly hold face-to-face conversations with him. you're always shying away from it, crumbling under the intensity, and he finds twisted pleasure in how flustered it makes you. the way the words always die on the tip of your tongue whenever your eyes meet, when you see that his focus is locked on you

it makes you look away, because it's the only thing you can do to escape it. but kaiser doesn't like it when you're looking away from him— he wants your attention. he wants to see you when you talk excitedly about your day.

he’ll get that attention however way he can. from where you're seated on the couch gives him quick access to you. you can feel his tattooed hand crawling up the skin of your thighs, sliding up slowly, leaving a trail of goosebumps as he goes. he stops short of the hem of your shorts, planting his hand firmly on the spot. he gives it a firm squeeze, fingers digging into the plush of your thighs— trying to get you to cave into him. “why won’t you look at me when you talk?” he’s leaning into you, invading your personal space despite the spacious couch. you can feel his breath on the shell of your ear with each word, “mein liebling, i want to see you when you talk. look at me.”

“you can listen to me talk without needing me to look at you,” you swallow, and his grip tightens ever so slightly at your words.

you're shifting awkwardly, trying to ignore the way your heart beats a little faster at the proximity, at the fact that his voice has started to sound almost pleading. almost— because he would never admit to something as desperate as pleading. it’s hard to focus when he’s this close, when he’s right there. his fingers remain on your thigh, tracing deliberate lines over your skin, and despite the way you're trying to resist, you can feel your resolve crumbling.

it’s not every day that you see someone like kaiser be on the precipice of begging for your attention. 

“i promise, i’ll stop teasing you. look—” his other hand is hooking under your chin, coaxing you to look at him. and you do— his eyes, once intense and teasing, now holds a softer and almost guilty looking gaze. “keep talking, yeah?”

oliver aiku likes to loosen his necktie with one hand after a formal event.

neckties are the worst, an opinion oliver will stand by ‘til the end of time. he absolutely despises having to put one on for formal events, and he’ll do his best to charm his way out of having to wear one. it never works, so the second he puts it on, he’s already thinking of the moment he gets to pull it off of himself. he doesn’t think much of it when he does it— one finger looping in the space between his neck and necktie, and he’s pulling at it without care.

but recently, he’s started to notice how intently you’d been staring each time he did it.

oliver’s got a keen-eye; not even the smallest thing can get past him. he drinks in the sight of you when he does it, eyes fixed on you, and taking joy in the fact that you don’t even seem to notice. you’re too busy being fixated on his hand, and the way the vein on his hand becomes prominent when he flexes it to pull, or the way his fingers seem to play around with the fabric. your eyes are so sharp, but somehow so unfocused, all at the same time. he loves how it gets you worked up.

it’s entertaining, so he takes it up a notch.

he drags his fingers, slowly, down to the first button of his shirt. and then he’s unbuttoning it with one hand, putting in extra effort in exposing his collarbones. he can’t fight the grin that makes its way to his lips, at your reaction— your eyes are widening, and he can visibly see you gulp at the sight. and then your eyes are shooting up to meet his, and his grin becomes impossibly wider.

“like what you see?” the teasing and flirtatious lilt in his voice is unmistakable, and you can’t help but draw your eyes back down to where his hand is twirling the tie around his fingers. he makes you tick, but he’s also so attractive, and you hate that he can easily make you blush with his words.

“you wish.” you choose to look away with a scoff, crossing your arms over your chest. “it’s gonna take more than that.” that makes him oddly excited, brows raising in mild surprise, and you honestly should’ve known better. it’s like you’re offering up a new challenge to him, and he gladly accepts.

oliver still hates neckties; that’s an opinion that will never change. he still looks forward to the second he gets to pull it off. except now, he gets to play a little game with you while he does it.

yukimiya kenyu keeps a hand on your back at all times, in public.

it’s a habit formed purely from the fact that the streets of shibuya have the tendency to become really crowded, and yukimiya hates it when you get separated from him in such a crowd. he likes it when you’re right by his side— he can keep a close eye on you at all times and protect you from getting pushed around. and originally, it started off with holding your hands. it was fine during the colder seasons, providing the two of you with extra warmth. but you had both quickly realized that it could become quite uncomfortable during summer, making your hands all sweaty and sticky.

so he experimented. he let his arm drop from your shoulders to the small of your back, his palm hovering over your skin, initially unsure of how you would react.

“is this okay?” he would lean down to whisper in your ear, and his voice was so gentle and so concerned about you. even when he was the one getting shoved around by the crowd, with people constantly running into the sides of his shoulders, he was still only thinking about you. you and your comfort. “tell me if this is uncomfortable, and i’ll figure something else out. okay?”

it made you shiver— you felt a heat crawl up your spine, and your stomach was immediately fluttering with butterflies.

you nod, “no, this is okay.” more than okay, actually, but you keep that to yourself. “thank you for asking.” he flashes you one of his pretty smiles, and he leans up to look straight ahead in the crowd again. but this time, his touch is more present— his palm is now firmly planted onto your skin, and he’s actively weaving you through the crowded streets.

whenever someone would get too close to you, or if he anticipates that someone is about to crash into you, his hand would travel to the side of your waist. and yukimiya grips on it, pulling your body flush against his side, effectively pulling you out of the way. “sorry,” he’ll whisper an apology, not having intended to hold you so tightly. his hands will go right back to where they initially were, not without trailing his fingers on the way back, leaving sparks tingling across your skin where he touched. “did i hurt you?”

“no, i’m fine,” you can keep your hand there, you almost tell him. it drives you insane that everything he does is unintentional— but maybe, one day, you'll be able to tell him exactly what you’re thinking.

© rindreamery, 2024

tags. @choccorin @mininji

[ohmarjorie]

Wrapped is out, which song did you listen to the most?

It's sooooo good, it had me hooked for like a week

[commander-damneron]

Okay, this threw up so many red flag that I'm having to make an actual reblog since I don't want to write an entire fucking essay over about 20 replies.

First off, I grew up in that same community. Or at least, I'm assuming it's the same one, since no one, to my knowledge, has ever called it "the Irish Catholic community of Scotland". Most people just consider it the Scottish Catholic community. Which usually acknowledges that there's a lot of Irish influence and the vast majority of Scottish Catholics are of Irish immigrant descent, and when I say "descent" I mean within the past few generations. For context, when I was growing up, I was considered to be reeeaaally Scottish by the other Catholic kids because my last fully Irish ancestors were about 4 generations back. There's a lot of Irish grandparents and great-grandparents among Scottish Catholics my age. So I suppose the way she describes it isn't wrong, it's just deeply fuckin weird. I guess we can't blame her for twisting her words around like that though, I get that she doesn't want to lump herself in with us filthy Scots.

Which does bring me to the other thing this flagged up in my brain. Because describing Scottish Catholics like that conveniently cuts out the parts of the community that aren't Irish or of Irish descent. I know I just said a lot of Scottish Catholics I grew up with are, but that's because at the time I started primary school, the majority were. My mum went to high school with a lot of other parents of kids in my P1 Catholic primary school class. While I never went to that high school, by the time I stopped going to church at around 13, that ubiquitous Scots/Irish landscape had changed, because Scotland had a large influx of Polish Catholics immigrants.

To be clear, I am in no way saying that's a bad thing. I sat through my fair share of my grandparents complaining about all these Polish coming in to church and now they're even having a separate Polish mass some weeks and all the usual xenophobia, and going from confused (I was 8 and thought they were very nice) to angry (I was 13 and my grandparents were full of shit). The Polish priest who was the first to start holding mass in Polish in our church, and who I was an altar server for for about 4 years, was the loveliest wee man you could ever meet.

What I am saying is that it it's suspicious to me use a term to describe Catholics in Scotland that so clearly excludes that large part of the community, especially as someone on the east coast, which I'm assuming Laura is, given that she's apparently shortlisted for Livingston. To be clear, this matters because of Scottish Catholicism's Irish roots and also because Scottish Catholicism is a bit weird. They majority of Irish immigrants settled on the west coast, since that's where they arrived, and is why Catholics on the west coast and especially in Glasgow are so... let's say loud and leave it at that. That's where my grandparents are from and where my mum spent her early years. Over time, some of them moved east with their families, as did my grandparents, and they've been here ever since, up to and including me being born here. The most common pattern among kids in my P1 class was "Irish great-grandparents/grandparents moved to Glasgow, Glaswegian grandparents/parents moved here". Similarly, as far as I personally witnessed, Polish immigrants did something similar, in that they often settled near to where they arrived. The ferry arrived in Rosyth, back when we still had passenger ferries between Scotland and mainland Europe. A lot of flights landed in Edinburgh. By the time I left the church, there was a huge Polish community on the east coast of Scotland, which was also notably larger than its west coast counterpart.

All this is to say that I fully do not believe that Laura McConnell can be a Catholic living on the east coast of Scotland and only be familiar with Scots/Irish Catholics. She just can't. I grew up a half hours drive from the constituency she's running for, and, again, we had such a large and thriving Polish community that we ran mass in Polish. So I can't help but find it suspicious that she notably excludes them here, especially because it'd be very easy to use them to throw other Scots under the bus. I've already spoken about the xenophobia against them in my own family, and they weren't the only ones with those opinions in our church, I imagine the rest of the country was at peast similar. I'm not saying outright that this was an active choice in how she phrased an already ridiculous tweet, but I am saying that if one of her political stances is somewhere in the realm of "hard on (EU) immigration", I wouldn't exactly be surprised

Labour candidate Laura McConnell is unionist because apparently the UK has long been a defender of Irish Catholics???

And she doesn’t trust those nasty Scots from Scotland (where she is a candidate).

[lvrspiastri]

PILLOWTALK. ˡˢ² ᵒᵖ⁸¹

reminder that requests are open just check out the guidelines :)

masterlist

✧. ┊    PAIRING: Oscar Piastri x Logan Sargeant x fem!reader

✧. ┊    SUMMARY: You celebrate a good race result with your boyfriend and his best friend. (NO USE OF Y/N)

✧. ┊    WORDS: 4k

✧. ┊    TAGS/WARNINGS: 18+, sex, smut, oral sex, vaginal fingering, semi-public sex, exhibitionism, threesome-f/m/m, lovebites, orgasm denial, blow jobs, hand jobs. FILTH. PURE FILTH. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK.

Logan wraps Oscar in a hug, patting his back. “A win, mate,” he beams, pulling away and ruffling his hair. “What an amazing result.” 

Oscar returns his smile with a calm one. “Great, indeed. I mean, you did out-qualify a Red Bull several times…” 

Logan shrugs. “Overall a pretty successful weekend.” He wraps his arm around your waist almost involuntarily, which causes Oscar’s eyes to flicker over to you. 

You embrace Oscar, moving to your tiptoes to fit in his arms. “You two were so busy gazing at each other, I was starting to think you didn’t notice me.” 

He crosses his arms after you pull away, his tone teasing. “You really think my eyes would scan the room and not linger on the prettiest girl to exist?” Your cheeks turn a red hue, partly from the compliment, partly from Oscar’s biceps stretching through his sleeves. Logan pulls you into his side tightly at the observation.

You started dating Logan before he went into F1, having supported him through his Prema days when the two of you were in your late teens, with your friendship starting out in your childhood. Naturally, with Logan, comes Oscar since the two have been inseparable after karting together, practically joined at the hip. 

Having been with him for over 5 years, you loved Logan more than life itself. He was the sweetest, kindest and most down-to-earth boy you’ve had the pleasure of meeting. You loved his American accent, messy hair, killer jawline, cute dimples and the crinkles by his eyes when he smiles. You loved him. 

But you found your gaze wandering to Oscar more than you’d ever admit. After a race, when he’d peel off his shirt and reveal his sweaty body, or when he’d hop out of the ice bath, dripping and soaked. There was no denying Oscar Piastri was an attractive man. But this’d be a secret not even a spirited game of truth or dare could pull out of you. 

You loosen Logan’s bruising hold and chirp. “Let’s celebrate!” Logan sighs, biting his lip. 

“Love, I’m not a party kind of guy. You know that.” 

You sigh, rolling your eyes. “That’s not what I meant. Why don’t the three of us go out for drinks? A beer and fries.” 

Running a hand through his sweaty hair, Oscar grins. “Sounds good.” Logan nods along, smiling at the idea of spending a quiet night with his two favourite people. “Although, we call ‘em chips.”

“That’s stupid.” Logan snorts. “Chips are chips. How can fries be chips?” 

“I dunno. That’s just how it is. Hot chips.” 

“Then what do you call actual chips?” 

“Chips.” There’s a brief silence before Logan mutters.

“Australians have no idea what they’re doing, do they?” 

Oscar scoffs. “We’re not the ones spelling ‘colour’ wrong.” 

“Well-” you drag Logan away before the two can wage a war between Australia and America. 

Come pub time, Logan cannot take his hands off you. He trails kisses all over your exposed shoulder and neck, biting occasionally as you get ready. You’re wearing a plain black top and skirt—an outfit you’ve worn many times before in front of the two but you’re not wasting good outfits on these buffoons. 

“Baby,” he whispers hotly against your skin, drawing circles with his tongue. “Let’s ditch Oscar. Come on, let me have you.” He’s making your mascara application increasingly hard, one hand wrapped around your hip, the other squeezing your ass. 

“No, you can’t ditch your friend after a maiden win.” He groans, mumbling incoherent curses. He settles for feasting on your shoulder, leaving hickeys every now and then. Nothing Oscar hasn’t seen before, though. Sometimes you wonder if he even notices. 

“You’re my favourite thing to taste,” he bites your neck gently. “So pretty. So gorgeous.” 

You snort. “That is such a lie. You once cried over a turkey.” 

“Fine, second favourite.” He chuckles low, spinning you around to face him. He leans in for a kiss on the lips, blocked by your hand. 

“Lipstick.” He shrugs and moves to your nose, blocked by a hand again. “Highlighter.” He sighs, ghosting your cheek. “Blush.”

With an overdramatised groan, he rests his head against your collarbone. “You’re killing me, baby.” He finds solace in running his lips over your neck. You swat off his pouty face, earning some freedom to reach the door before he slams your back against the wall. Smirking at your gasp, he gets on his knees, pushing up the hem of your skirt and kissing your thighs. “You think he can get rid of me that easily?”

You chuckle, resting your head against the wall. “And people say Oscar’s a koala.”

He stops his momentary assault, frowning. “Are you insinuating I’m clingy?”

“No.” You say simply.

“Good.”

“I’m downright saying it.” With a growl, he bites your inner thigh hard enough to leave a red mark, soothing with his tongue after. You stare at the new addition to bruises and marks on your skin. You sigh, tugging the blonde’s hair. “Alright, Lo, we’re gonna be late.”

He mutters a ‘stupid Oscar’ before standing up and offering you a hand, going from whore to gentleman really quick. “Shall we, m’lady?” You smile, slipping your hand in his. 

Oscar waits with a beer in his hand, seated at a table in the corner of the bar, aimlessly scrolling through his phone. “What took you so long?” The Aussie questions, putting his phone away. 

With a click of your tongue, you sit opposite him, with Logan taking his place next to you. “Someone here got distracted.” You shoot a glare at the Williams driver giving you a sheepish smile.  

“Ah.” Oscar remarks, his eyes flicking over your bare shoulders, assessing the hickeys that decorate the skin. “I can see that.” He licks his lips quickly enough to be mistaken for a trick of the light before initiating conversation with his best friend. An hour or two in, you feel Logan’s hand settle on your knee, gently drawing circles. You dismiss the action as affectionate until he trails it up slowly, reaching your inner thigh. The smallest hint of a smirk crosses his lips as his eyes are locked on Oscar yapping. 

You shift his fingers away, pushing them back down to your knee. He listens and manages to keep it there for a solid 10 seconds before he inches up again. He doesn’t have to even look at you to see your reaction. When Oscar gets distracted by his mum’s text message, you lean over to him and whisper. “Logan. No.”

He whines, giving you his brightest smile. “Pleeeaaaasseee? I’ll be gentle.” 

“No. Not in public.” 

“We did it in the driver's room on Friday and you didn’t seem to mind.”

“Well people are actively watching here.” 

“Relax,” he chuckles softly. “No one’s looking.” Your gesture to the McLaren driver seated before you two. “Then be quiet,” Logan dismisses, rolling his eyes. He moves his fingers a little too close to your centre, eyes fixed on you. “If you don’t want it, just say the word.” 

You swallow thickly. Sure, it was risky. You were more concerned about Oscar than any of the other patrons, not wanting to embarrass yourself in front of him. But the heat of Logan’s hand had you clenching and aching. You nod, granting him consent. The boy beams, turning back to Oscar as he finishes responding to his supportive mum’s texts. 

Oscar’s eyes fly to you again, and his throat bobs for a split second before he registers Logan’s question and proceeds to answer. You’d known Oscar as long as you had Logan. Not to mention, you had the biggest crush on him growing up before realising Logan was the one. He took care of you and treated you with the utmost respect, even punched a boy in the stomach due to a distasteful nickname. Oscar wasn’t proud of acting violently but doesn’t regret standing up for you. You were his best friend too, after all. 

Too busy eyeing Oscar, you’re not prepared as Logan shoves his fingers inside your underwear and teases your clit with his middle and ring finger. You gasp a little, your body shivering, which catches Oscar’s attention. “You good? You can take my jumper if  you’re cold.” You clear your throat and shake your head to decline his sweet offer. You look at your boyfriend’s stupid face, seeing a full smirk adorning it.

His fingers slip lower, pushing his fingertips just inside your entrance. Your hips squirm beneath him but you bring your beer bottle to your mouth to silence your moan. With a fake cough, he fully rams his fingers inside you, making your eyes shut tight. You immediately compose yourself before Oscar has the chance to deduce what’s going on. 

Logan works with a steady pace, his fingers scissoring, his thumb brushing against your clit every now and then. A tear rolls down your eye from the toe-curling pleasure and the pressure of keeping it silent. You’re playing fairly well until Logan curls his fingers inside you and hits a spot that makes you see white. You let out a soft groan and Oscar’s smile disappears. 

“Quiet.” Logan’s whispered yet hostile voice addresses you. He curls them again, emanating an erotic moan. Oscar blushes violently, but his gaze doesn’t waver. He knows what’s going on and he wants more. 

“It’s getting pretty late. We should head to our rooms.” Logan states monotonously like everything was perfectly fine. 

Oscar nods, swallowing thickly and regaining his voice. “You’re right. It’s been a long day. I'll sort the bill out.” Logan winks at him in thanks before turning to you as Oscar leaves. He can tell you’re seconds away from falling apart and being the kind boyfriend that he is, he pulls out his fingers, denying you release. His tongue darts out to clean his fingers, groaning when he tastes your arousal. “Fuck. How sweet.” He sees your frown and pecks your lips. “You fail to be quiet…you don’t get to come” With that, he walks off, joining Oscar without even bothering to help you for your shaky knees. He glances back at you, smirking devilishly when you wobble over to the pair. 

Logan was the sweetest, kindest and most down-to-earth boy you’ve had the pleasure of meeting. But when he sexually frustrates you like this, you feel like throttling him. 

Oscar’s insistence to watch a movie before bed wears the two of you down and you reluctantly give in, following the boy to watch ‘Love Actually.’ To no one’s surprise, his hotel room is twice as messy as yours and Logan’s. Which is saying something. Clothes are scattered all over the floor and furniture, the sheets are ruffled, and cups make an alarming appearance on the tables. Oscar offers you two a seat on the bed but you opt for the couch instead. 

You catch a glimpse of a look shared between Oscar and Logan before you find yourself pinned to the couch by your boyfriend. “Logan!” You exclaim, about to tell him off before he roughly kisses you, hands firmly holding your arms in place on the couch. He starts attacking your neck, biting and nipping the spots he knew would have you screaming the loudest. You breathe out, “Logan, what the hell?! Oscar’s right there!” Logan pulls away with wet lips and flushed cheeks. 

“Oscar doesn’t mind.” He turns to the Australian. “Do you, Osc?” Oscar simply shakes his head, his eyes locked on your body as he gets comfy on the bed. He shamelessly takes in the scene before him like it’s some form of entertainment. “Come on, baby.” Logan whispers in your mouth. He peels off his shirt and strips off his pants until he’s left in boxers. You’ve seen him in all his glory countless times before but it’s always like the first. No one could compare to him.

His hands frantically tug on your top, nearly ripping it off your body and throwing it to the side before giving the same treatment to your skirt. His torso is hot against yours as he seals your lips in for another kiss- passionate, hot, and heavy. Although, you cannot give your best to the kiss, painfully aware of Oscar’s gaze. Meanwhile, his hand moves up to your inner thigh, then gradually ascends. He smirks when he hears your gasp. “You like that pretty girl?” He breathes in your neck, his thumb brushing over the waistline of your panties. The cool metal of his silver chain against your hot body makes you shudder. You nod simply and he runs his thumb back and forth across the hem. “Say it.” He knows he’s torturing you with all this teasing and he feels himself grow harder in response. 

“I want you.” He lets out a soft groan of arousal and slowly drags his finger up the front of your underwear, feeling the damp cloth. Oscar shifts a little closer on the bed. The ruffle of the sheets catches Logan’s attention. He lifts you up and throws you on the bed, right by Oscar. Logan slides his hand under the fabric of your panties and circles your clit before dipping his fingers in, moving them with purpose. “Oh, Lo!” you cry out, your hips squirming beneath him. 

Oscar’s breathing is stolen from him, his eyes laser-trained on your reactions as Logan thrusts his fingers into you. “Go, Logan,” Oscar’s voice comes out airy. “Show her how it’s done.” Knowing he's got a viewer, Logan moves his fingers even faster, making sure you feel it more now. You feel his ring nipping at your entrance as he shoves his fingers deeper, the coolness of the metal adding another layer of pleasure.

The pair hear your whimpers and moans as Logan curls up his fingers every now and then, fingering you just the way you like it. When your back arches and you announce you’re close, Logan moves the fastest he can go. “You like that?” His voice is throaty, full of need.

Oscar watches from the corner, looking turned on as well. You give him a curt nod. His voice gets rougher. “Beg.” He presses a thumb to your clit. “I’m close!” You almost scream.  That's enough for Logan to pull his hand away in an instant. He grins, hovering his fingers just above your center as he watches your reaction.

 “You didn't say the words I wanted to hear. Beg. Or the game stops here.” He smirks. Your eyebrows furrow, your heaving chest showing your obvious frustration. “You heard me. Beg, pretty girl.” 

You let out a quiet sigh. “Please, baby.”

“Louder. Say it louder. I want to hear it.” His hand rests right above you, his fingers just barely rubbing through the fabric of your underwear. He looks ready to tease, but not to stop. 

You speak louder, with a palpable desperation this time. “Please, baby. Please!”

“Please what?” His hand continues to move as he watches you. Oscar looks just as turned on as you are, leaning in closer to see you. Hearing your quiet whisper of ‘take me,’ Logan chuckles, sliding his hand away again. “How badly do you want it?” He begins to pull away. Oscar almost falls off the bed trying to get closer to you. 

“Really, really bad…” “Then you know what to do, my love.” Logan’s heart races faster as he sees your head spin to Oscar. “Please…” you whisper to Oscar, causing his eyes to widen as he turns and meets Logan’s gaze, unsure. “I need you.”

“You want him too?” Logan inquires as Oscar’s fingertips just graze up your side. You shudder and nod. “I don’t think that means anything, pretty girl. Ask him nicely.” Oscar slides a hand up to your chest, lightly squeezing but doesn’t say anything. 

You whisper to him, hand coming up to trail up his leg. “I want you, Osc. Please.” He registers your needy expression before nodding and sealing your lips in a kiss as Logan kisses from your clavicle to your hips, biting and sucking as he pleases. Oscar’s kiss is laced with care and precision, like you’re something to be savoured, something to be protected— a stark contrast to Logan’s passionate, sloppy ones. You gasp as Oscar pulls away and wraps his tongue around your nipple, sucking on the bud tenderly. Feeling left out, Logan decides to mirror his best friend’s actions, sucking on your other tit. You tangle each of your hands in the boys’ hair, tugging gently as you writhe beneath them. You feel like you could come right there and then at the feel of their warm, wet mouths on you. 

Oscar takes the initiative and begins to kiss down your stomach, his tongue flicking to tease you as he gets lower. “Like this, huh?” He whispers, his voice deeper than you’ve ever heard it. He slides further down when you nod, moving to your thigh, peppering chaste kisses on the flesh. He then shifts so he’s resting comfortably in between your thighs, his head hovering right above your stomach. He hooks his fingers in the waistband of your sticky panties and pulls them down, taking in the wonderful smell of sex. Oscar smirks up at you and presses a tender kiss to your centre. 

Examining the look of pleasure on your face, he dips his head, placing more kisses, using his mouth to engulf your clit. Logan watches on, enjoying how hot it is to see you two like that. He finally tugs his boxers off, moving to his knees right by your face. He grabs your hair, stroking it softly as you whimper. “You’re doing good, Osc,” he whispers. “She fucking loves it.” Oscar hums against your clit, smirking when you whine. “Take my cock, pretty girl.” You oblige your boyfriend’s command and open wide, letting him shove his hard length into your salivating mouth. 

Logan’s grip on your hair tightens as he begins to thrust his hips into your mouth. This gets Oscar harder and his mouth to work faster, flicking his tongue every now and then before moving in circles. You pull your mouth away, using your hands on Logan. 

“Oscar, I’m gonna-” you’re cut off by Logan ramming into your mouth, making sure you feel it.

“Didn’t quite hear you there,” chuckles Oscar slowly. His lips wrap around your bud and suck, causing your back to arch off the bed and you to orgasm for the first time that night. You shut your eyes tight, groaning into Logan. The vibrations send him over the edge too and he releases his seed into your mouth. He pulls out of your mouth, smiling wide as you swallow. Your gaze turns to the brunette raising his head from your thighs, his chin glistening. “Mm, you taste sweet. Can’t believe you’ve been hiding her from me this entire time, Lo.” 

“You never asked.” Logan chuckles, moving to Oscar. You feel a familiar heat pool up in your stomach when Logan’s head dips under Oscar’s jaw, licking your release off his chin. “Gets better every time.” He pulls his lips away with a smack, running his tongue over his lips. The boys turn to your twitching form on the bed. A shared glance is all they need to bend down to you and kiss you. At the same time. Your lips are never left alone as they both kiss hungrily, flicking their tongues out. Although, you can sense a little bit of competition between the two. After a free moment, Oscar pulls back, letting Logan have your mouth. He takes the chance to go to your neck, kissing and sucking the skin there. The minute Logan hears a moan from you, he moves to the bare side of your neck, trying to see who can get you to moan the loudest. Logan’s kisses are passionate and strong, starting to bite on your neck while Oscar’s are playful and loving, gently sucking on your skin. You groan, your hand flying to squeeze your breasts. But you don’t utter a name, frustrating the two boys. 

“You’ll tell us who’s better, right, baby?” Logan whispers in your ear, his hand replacing your own to massage your chest. 

“Yeah, you can’t stay neutral forever…” Oscar playfully bites your nipple, making you cry out his name. “Heard that, Logan?” He smirks. “She wants me.” 

Logan’s jaw clenches and he decides to run two of his fingers down your core teasingly, gathering the slick and rubbing it on one of your nipples. You whine, your hips squirming. 

“Not fair, man,” scoffs Oscar, leaning back and crossing his arms. 

Continuing his ministrations on your peak, Logan breathlessly teases the Australian. “I’m her boyfriend. She chose me. Of course she wants me more.”

“No, it doesn’t!” Oscar throws up his hands. “She only chose you because you asked her out first, even though you knew how I felt about her.” 

Logan stops, huffing. “You never had the balls to ask her out. I met her first, she was mine!” You look between the two boys, the tension in the air palpable. 

“Please…We all know she would’ve picked me if it were fair.” At his comment, Logan’s eyes widen and Oscar’s on his back on the bed in a flash. 

“Maybe,” Logan leans down, whispering huskily. “But it wasn’t. And she’s with me. And you…?” He runs his hands over Oscar’s shorts, sliding them down gently with the boxers. “Need to shut up.” To prove his point, Logan begins to work on Oscar with his hands, earning a sharp inhale from him. 

You just came but felt yourself growing slicker at the sight, Oscar’s delicious mounds teasing your ears in the right way. You crawl over to him on the bed, placing your knees on either side of his face, your behind facing Logan. Oscar takes in the sight of you above him, drawing in a deep breath as his hands hold your thighs firmly in place. You smile softly at him, stroking his hair gently. “You’re so pretty,” you whisper. 

Oscar grows bashful, groaning every now and then due to Logan as he leans in to your touch. He takes a deep breath of your skin, your scent filling his senses. “I always thought you were pretty…” Oscar breathes out, looking into your eyes with lust-hazed ones, like he’d never seen a sight more beautiful in his life. “But from underneath you like this…”

“Fantasised about your best friend’s girlfriend often, did you?” You chuckle lightly. 

“Hey, in my defence, I liked you before you were together.” He bites his lip to stifle a groan as Logan keeps working. His hands grip your thighs, pulling your core down to his mouth, hissing. “Oh….mmm…fuck.” He shuts his eyes as your taste fills his mouth again. His hands moving up and down your thighs, squeezing when Logan makes the boy feel good. He moans as he eagerly flicks his tongue against your core. You rock your hips into his mouth gently, careful not to hurt him. Meanwhile, Logan’s hand pumps Oscar in a languid movement, a technique he picked up from you during your adventures. Oscar’s licks eventually become inconsistent and light, his fingers digging hard into your thighs and judging by the boy’s breathing, he’s almost over the edge. You couldn’t miss the sight. You hop off Oscar, spreading yourself next to him, lazily tracing circles around your clit as Logan leans over Oscar, using both his hands to pleasure him. 

Oscar turns his head to see you touching yourself and his expression falters, his voice croaking out Logan’s name as he comes, his orgasm coating the blonde’s fingers. You don’t have to be asked twice when Logan brings his fingers to your mouth, eagerly licking Oscar’s release clean as he lies exhausted on the bed. 

Logan falls on the other side of Oscar, chuckling softly as he pulls you to be cradled in his arms. “That felt illegal.” 

“But good?” Oscar questions, his voice hoarse. 

“But good.” 

[lemonturquoise]

Midnight Antics

Sylus x Reader

Luke and Kieran swallowed hard, their nerves frayed as they faced their boss’s anger. The stern look in Sylus’s eyes was a clear sign of his disappointment, and the tension in the air was almost palpable. Although they were partly responsible for letting you go out with your friends, their main concern was the lateness of the hour. It was already midnight, and you still hadn't returned. Their anxiety had mounted with each unanswered call, making the waiting seem endless. When Sylus came down the stairs, his stern expression only heightened their dread.

Suddenly, the main door burst open with a loud crash. “Sylus!” You stumbled into the house, your movements unsteady as you clung to him. Your disheveled appearance and slurred speech made it evident you were quite drunk. Luke and Kieran let out a collective sigh of relief, their tension easing as they saw you finally home safe. "I miss you” you mumbled, your voice thick with intoxication. Sylus, trying to maintain his composure, gently but firmly grabbed your chin to make you look at him. "Where have you been?" he asked, his voice a mix of concern and frustration. Your gaze was unfocused as you struggled to respond. “I… hmm… went out with my friends” you replied with a giggly hiccup. Sylus’s irritation deepened. “And you didn’t even bother to let me know?” His tone was sharp, and his grip tightened slightly. “Ouch!” you exclaimed, pulling his hand away with a wince. “I told Luke and Kieran about it and thought you weren’t coming home tonight” you added, your laughter fading into another hiccup. Sylus lifted you into his arms and carried you to your room.

He threw you on the bed, and you swayed slightly, trying to steady yourself. “I need to change” you said, your voice slightly slurred. As you struggled to change out of your party clothes and into something more comfortable, Sylus watched with a mix of exasperation and concern. Your attempts were clumsy and slow, revealing just how drunk you were. After you managed to change, you stood on the bed, trying to balance as you almost reached Sylus's height. The sight of you struggling to stay upright while trying to look him in the eye softened his irritation. You started pinching both of his cheeks with a playful grin. “Come on, don’t be mad.” you laughed, though your laughter was somewhat incoherent. “You’ve surely had a lot to drink, huh?” Sylus tried to hold your hands to stop you from pinching his cheeks. “Sleep now. We’ll talk tomorrow.” he said in a cold tone.

As he walked to the door to leave, he heard the soft sound of crying. He turned around and saw you lying on the bed, tears streaming down your face. Your sobs were muffled, and Sylus felt a pang of guilt. He sighed deeply and approached you. “Why are you crying?” he asked, his voice softer now. “You’re mad and you don’t love me anymore.” your voice breaking with emotion. Sylus looked puzzled, but then his lips curved into a faint smile. He sat down beside you, his earlier frustration wearing away. “I’m not mad. Just don’t do it again.” he said, gently patting your back. “Really?” you asked, looking up at him with hopeful eyes. “Yeah, now go to sleep.” he reassured you. You suddenly threw yourself at him in a tight hug, nearly making him lose his balance. As you clung to him, Sylus found your state and the way you misinterpreted his feelings both warm and cute.

He was about to say something but was cut off by your playful pinching of his cheeks once more. Sylus managed to disentangle himself from your embrace with a tired smile. Despite the late hour and his earlier frustration, he found your antics charming. “Alright, enough.” he said with a small affectionate smile. “I’m going to my office for a bit. We’ll talk things through in the morning. Go to sleep now, kitten. I love you, okay?” as he kissed your forehead.

He settled you back into the bed, your crying subsiding as you relaxed into the blankets. “Goodnight, Sylus. I love you too.” you murmured, your voice now soft and content. Sylus left the room and headed back to his office, feeling a mix of relief and lingering fondness.

[bruisedboys]

hii!! if you’re taking requests still for the marvel event… could i request endgame with yelena and a fem reader with the prompt "five more minutes"? lena deserves some peaceful resting time : )

hi angel, thank u for your request!! hope u enjoy and sorry this is so short xx

yelena belova x fem!reader, 0.4k words

Yelena’s fast asleep next to you in the cab. You’d rather die than wake her — she rarely ever gets a good night's sleep, often plagued by nightmares, and she looks so peaceful like this, her features softened by sleep — but the driver is pulling up to your apartment now and you don't want to make him wait.

You jostle Yelena where she’s slouched into your side. “Lena,” you whisper. “We’re home.”

Yelena grumbles something incoherent and slouches further into your side, her cheek pressing into your shoulder. You huff. How she manages to be stubborn even while she’s asleep is beyond you.

The car stops next to your place. You twist in your seat and take Yelena’s face in your hand, slotting your fingers under her jaw gently. She’s unbelievably pretty like this, her lashes all fluttery and her lips pushed into a pout. You brush a short lock of blonde hair away from her face with your thumb.

“C’mon, wake up,” you murmur to her. “We're here.”

Yelena groans, blinking her eyes open, her movements languid. She meets your gaze sleepily. “Five more minutes?” She asks, voice scratchy from sleep.

You laugh softly and shake your head. “You can have five more hours once we get inside. Or more,” you say.

Yelena seems to like that promise. You get out of the car, tugging her with you, and thank the driver. He drives away and you attempt to get inside your front door with Yelena leaning half her weight on you. You manage to get her into your bedroom, before she completely collapses sideways on your bed.

You lean over her. “You’ve gotta take off your makeup, honey,” you remind her gently, hoping to soften the blow.

It doesn’t work. Yelena groans like you've stabbed her and covers her face with her hands.

You laugh, partly at her dramatics, and partly ‘cos you love her so much it makes you a bit giddy. “You want me to do it for you?”

It’s how you end up in Yelena’s lap, hands on her warm face, carefully rubbing the eyeliner from her eyes with a washcloth. She’s half asleep underneath you, her eyes shut to accommodate for your hands, and her chest heaving with soft, slow breaths. The only way you know she’s still awake is from her hands where they rest on your hips, one thumb drawing slow, lazy circles into the dip of your waist.

When you’re done she thanks you with a sleepy kiss, and the second her head hits the pillows she’s fast asleep. You spend a long while afterwards watching her and wondering how you got so lucky.

[revelboo]

Hey revel!! I love your stuff and you’re partly what inspired me to write my own transformers stuff. It’s actually my 26th birthday today (I’m getting so close to my thirties and I actually love it) and I was wondering if you could do something with the elite trine? Love those little fighter jets

Happy Birthday! That’s awesome that you’re writing your own stuff! The transformers community here is pretty great.

🔞 mass displaced mechs 🌶️

Interludes Pt 11

Seeker Trine x Reader

• Venting in exasperation, his wings tuck close at the noise and heat of the space. But when he glances at Thundercracker and sees the smile on the brother’s face, Starscream has to swallow his complaint. Because his trine deserves to relax, to work off the tension. And if Skywarp and Thundercracker want to do that by pinning some little, willing organic under them and rutting them into an incoherent mess, he’s going to support them. Besides, he can’t deny a curiosity about the humans. Or that he likes the idea of dominating one, being in complete control for a change.

• “Just pick one already,” Skywarp groans, grabbing onto Thundercracker’s wing and leaning his weight on it, to make him hiss in pain. “There’s a ton of them, they’re willing and ready right now. Who cares about their personality?” But he cares, isn’t trying to frag his way through every human that frequents Interludes like some mechs, Thundercracker’s looking for something real. A mate. What they’re supposed to be doing.

• “I care,” Thundercracker mutters and Skywarp lets go of his wing, watching his brother go approach another human and bend to talk to them and he shoots a look at Star to back him up, but his other brother just flicks his wings. Isn’t the point to frag as many squishies as possible until they find one they want to keep? Personally, he’s ready to do his part. Watching Thundercracker smile at whatever the human says, he can’t be too angry, though. When’s the last time Thundercracker smiled like that? When any of them were actually happy? Well, before the war. And Thundercracker offer a human his arm, gesturing with his other hand at them and Star clears his vents loudly as the human waves.

• Heart racing as you take Thundercracker’s arm and let him lead you to his two brothers, Skywarp and Starscream, you’d been trying to find one Cybertronian to hang out with. Three, though? Excitement making you struggle not to grin as people turn to watch and you’re getting some looks. And you heat when Thundercracker slides an arm around you, big hand on your hip. Deciding as you look them over, that the only thing better than twins is triplets. Because these guys have the same build, their faces are different and there’s subtle differences in their frames and not so subtle differences in their paint jobs, but they’re almost identical. “I can’t wait to get to know you all intimately.”

• You’re bold, he’ll give you that. Daring to meet his optics as Thundercracker’s servos rub against your hip. “Shall we?” Starscream asks and he vents when Skywarp impatiently shoves past a couple of Autobots to get a room token for them. Watches Thundercracker guide you toward a door and he falls into step behind you both, momentarily distracted by how small you are tucked against Thundercracker. Fragile.

• Leading you inside, Thundercracker’s wings lift when Skywarp immediately pulls you into his frame, dragging you up against him as his mouth covers yours and your back hits the wall. Wasting no time to start trying to unwrap you as you laugh, his hips rocking against you. “Too many layers,” Skywarp groans in frustration, hiking your lower covering up to reveal bare skin underneath. “Thank Primus,” his brother snarls, releasing his spike against you and shifting. And your laughter cuts off on a startled moan as Skywarp fills you and Thundercracker smiles. Knew he’d chosen right, looking for someone who can handle all of them.

• Head back as one of them, Skywarp, you’re pretty sure pins you to the wall, hips pumping urgently. Can’t even be annoyed that there’s a perfectly good bed right there going to waste as you hook your legs around his waist. “Just like that, please,” you moan, aware of the other two watching you both. But then, they’ve probably done this before if they’re down with sharing and you’re winding up fast at the feel of him stretching you, his every ridge on his spike hitting just right.

• You’re so tight and slick around his spike, like you’re made just to take him. And the way you’re moving against him, your breath hitching on those little sounds as his fans kick on? “We’re keeping this one,” he groans against your skin and you find and dig your nails into a seam in his plating as you come apart fisting his spike and he groans, overloading.

• “Star,” Thundercracker says, gesturing and Starscream’s wings flare slightly in annoyance. Doesn’t need his brother’s pity or want his compassion. He’s fine. He’s always been fine. Dimly aware of Skywarp slipping free of you and setting you on your little feet, he’s about to say something. And he freezes when you slide a warm hand over the plating of his arm, the fingers of the other hand tracing the edge of a wing. ‘Let me take care of you?’ You ask and he stiffens, except, it doesn’t sound condescending when you say it. Letting you pull him to the bed and you lay down, thighs spread.

• Servos slide against your jaw, one brushing your bottom lip, pressing down gently like he’s not sure what to make of your softness, but he’s hard, living metal. And his wings flare out when you nip at his servo, those red optics flashing in amusement before he palms your hips, releasing his spike and you arch when it slides against you. Finds and stretches you slowly as his jaw clenches. You’re still wound up from his brother when he begins moving against you. Unable to tear your eyes from the need on his too-human face or the way his body moves against yours. Still fascinated with the way your bodies fit together so well as he finds a rhythm. Hear his venting get louder as your own breathing quickens on a moan, his hips snapping urgently against you. Setting a demanding pace as he ruts against you and his servos dig into your hips hard enough there will probably be bruises. Rushing for that finish line, and you get left behind when he groans and shudders against you with his overload.

• Smiling indulgently as Star slips free of you and Thundercracker moves closer, sliding a palm against the outside of one of your trembling thighs. His own spike stirring at the sight of you slick with their releases and thoroughly claimed. Shifting against you, he buries himself inside you and you moan, arching, little hands clinging to him. “So, what do you think of my trine?” Thundercracker asks, nuzzling against your neck as his hips curl and lazily rock in no real hurry. Enjoying the warmth and softness of you, your slick heat wrapped around his spike. Risking a glance at his brothers and wondering if they need more convincing to keep you. They have the room for the night. Plenty of time.

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[anticanonsposts]

y/n's feral week

hi this is just a little sm about y/n being horny as hell and König eating it up

nsfw under the cut so MDNI!!!!

König keeps track of your cycle on a calendar... 

Partly to be a good boyfriend but also for his own benefit. 

Your cycle is a very interesting thing. Because obviously there are parts of it that make you feel gross, bloated, bleeding, etc. But what people often forget is that a menstrual cycle is 28 days and for some people there are ups and downs throughout. 

For you specifically, you had about one and a half to two weeks when you go absolutely feral. 

During this time, you jump him at any opportunity, you send sexy pictures throughout the day, you’re on him the moment you are home from work. (Obviously with consent of course) his dick does not know a moment of peace. 

He fears for the safety of his balls during this time, with you constantly emptying them. Bro gets so sore when this happens, and always knows once it starts you will drag every. Single. Drop. of cum out of him. (he fucking loves it tho, whenever you go nuts and just use his body for hours on end). 

Usually you can go for several rounds, but during this time you are unbelievable. As soon as König thinks you are on your last round, you whip out 3 more on the poor man. And it's not even like you are completely in control. He is not the only one blubbering and whimpering incoherently. When you guys are several rounds in, it's basically just you endlessly riding his dick until he’s under you seeing stars and you can barely keep yourself upright. Whining his name over and over again while he stares up at you half lidded in complete awe. 

Watching you bounce up and down on his completely spent dick, your tits in his face, your face flushed, working your tired body against him is quite literally a glimpse into heaven for him. 

At the end of this time period, his balls feel an overwhelming sense of relief. And he is just amazed at how 180 your libido can be. One day you are jumping at him at every opportunity, multiple times a day. And the next you are bundled up in your bed, bloated and upset, wanting him as a giant, human heating pad rather than a sex toy. 

This is just one of the many reasons he loves you. 

p.s. : pls pls pls request things!!!!!

[iwrite0]

Katsuki Bakugou x Reader "Warm Hands". Period comfort!

I died today exams are coming up and my body decided that I must suffer, endometriosis is no joke. PERIOD COMFORT.

Katsuki was never one for comfort, partly because he never really got it himself so giving it was like standing in cold water. The first time you and Katsuki were together during your period you kept to yourself not wanting to bother him with your mood swings.

He quickly caught on blowing it off as you having an off week. The second time around he was a little more observant noticing how you got more upset over simple work and how you seemed to always have a stomach ache in class.

One Ill fated day you ran out of pads quickly running to Momo giving her a knowing look, she handed you her bag as you ran off. That was only the start of your shitty day. The pills you took to kill your cramps had worn off so now you're suffering in class. Things took a turn for the worse after lunch when whatever the cafeteria food seemed to kill your stomach.

Back in class holding your stomach you left for the bathroom holding your stomach as your lunch betrayed you. After a few minutes of suffering on the bathroom floor, apparently Aizawa felt the need to send Momo to check on you. She helped you up and to recovery girl, not that she could do much but let you rest.

After class Katsuki made his way to the nurses office, seeing you curled in a ball with a bottle of pain killers next to you "The hell happened to you?" He spoke in a rather mean tone but you could still feel the sincerity of his words "Cramps" you said sitting up wrapping your hands around his waist. After a few minutes you grab his hand and get up.

He walks you back to your dorm letting you lean most of your body weight on him most the walk there. Not having any food in your system you felt your body weaken using what little energy you had to lay down. Katsuki watches you curl in a ball a soft yet concerning look still ligers. "I'll make you some soup. Don't die while I'm gone" he says gruffly placing a kiss on your head

When he returns he has a tray with soup, some warm tea and chocolate? You look up at him a bit confused "Why the chocolate?" You say still slightly dazed. "Im not a complete moron.. plus I ran into Momo and she told me" he says the second half is almost incoherent.

You look up at him with a smile holding his rather warm hands to your cold ones. The blissful moment is rudely interrupted by the feeling of a cramp in your lower stomach. Clenching your stomach holding back the tears that had been compiled caused by the many cramps and stress of the day.

A slight groan manages to escape your lips as you feel the side if you bed sink in next to you. Not saying anything you feel your boyfriend pull you towards him. "Where does it hurt" he says avoiding your slightly confused gaze you place his hands on your lower stomach leaning into his touch.

One main up side of Katsuki's quirk was his body radiated more heat then the average person, more so in his hands. "Thank you" you say slowly dozing off.

When you awake you feel your boyfriend's hands still wrapped around you. You walk to the bathroom taking care of yourself. When you come back Katsuki is still asleep so you crawl back on the bed laying in his lap.

The day continues with one similar to the one before.

Sorry this one was a little weird and shorter than I wanted. I'm tired, sick and sleepy but wanted to write this.

Requests are open!

[vnyne]

This one's for @madam8 thank you for the idea 🤭

--

Sylus pulls away from the kiss, cupping your face into his comparatively large palms.

"i can't believe you're pregnant, kitten. We're gonna be parents?", he smiles at you, genuinely believing your prank.

You giggle teasingly, grabbing his hands. "Sylus, it was a prank"

Sylus immediately paused, smile dropping instantly from his face.

"prank?" His voice came out low, brows pulling together into a mild scowl.

You looked at him, realising it wasn't a good decision to pull such a prank on him despite knowing he gets a little sensitive over these topics.

"yeah, I just... wanted to see how you'd react."

He scoffed, partly annoyed at how excited he got thinking they were going to be parents. His hands slide down to your hips, pulling you close before he lunged forward to effortlessly pick you up and throw you over his shoulder, trudging to the bedroom.

"you're gonna regret pranking me, kitten."

Your heart raced in your chest as you hung upside down on his shoulder. Upon reaching the bedroom he practically throws you down on the bed and you start to realise how a single blow from this man could kill you in a heartbeat.

He unbuttons the first few buttons of his shirt before crawling up to settle between your spread legs, using his knees to push them even wider apart. The tension between you both so thick that it was eating away at the your guts, driving you insane with the idea of what he could do.

His hand moved down confidently, thumb already finding your throbbing clit as if he knew every nook and corner of your body better than yourself. You both were still fully clothed when his hand reached between your legs, not moving or trying to pleasure you, but just staying pressed at one place, making you squirm impatiently.

The sensation was maddening— delicate and shameless all at once. Your face flushed in vibrant red, hot breathes and eyes brimmed with ardour and carnality. Sylus' touch was threatening to some extent, reminding you that the power is all on him, and your prank— which was supposed to end in laughs and silly tantrums (maybe) had taken a sharp turn into Sylus being all riled up because of it. Although, the abominable lust in his pupils wasn't letting you shake off the shiver up your spine, if anything, it only fueled your excitement.

As if sensing your nerves, sylus pressed down even more firmly on your button, gauging your response to the malevolent stimuli. He was peculiarly calm for someone who saw red out of frustration moments ago. He pulls back, before hooking his fingers into the elastic of your shorts to pull it, and then letting it go, making it snap sharply against your hipbone, instigating an agonizing pain on your skin.

"did that hurt kitten?" His voice was creamy, despite his opposing actions. Before he could allow you some minutes to answer, his lips conceal yours, capturing them into a delicate yet dominating kiss. You try to muffle out incoherent protests when he digs his sharp teeth into your bottom lip, precisely drawing out blood and licking it off immediately, savouring the metallic taste on his tongue.

Your eyes widen, so he was planning on torturing you sensually all night without giving you a chance to complain about it. He knew you were desperate— desperate enough to let him do anything to your body and use it anyhow if it meant your pleasure.

His hand slides down under the elastic of your shorts, fingers already finding your delicate clit to rub it gently before his touch turns into something more devilish and rough. He plays around for a moment, rubbing your slick all over your folds and clit, daring eyes sharply calculating every moan and breath you let out, how your head tips back slightly, hands trying to clutch onto something firm.

He pushes in two fingers without any warning, and curls them up into your velvently insides, not bothering to wait to let you adjust. He seemed determined to make you climax first, skilled fingers rubbing and pressing into your g-spot without any restrictions, making your eyes roll back into oblivion. He snickered to himself, pressing his thumb on your button when your muscular walls tightened around his digits, right at the edge of an intense orgasm.

Right when you're about to slip, he fingers pull out, leaving you disheveled and whimpering from the sudden lack of pleasure.

"Sylus—" you cry softly, almost breaking the rough demeanor of your boyfriend who just left your pussy unattended and throbbing. He always does this to tease you and as masochistic as it sounds, you couldn't help but like this side of him.

Beginning to unbuckle his belt, Sylus looked down on you, eyes almost pitiful— God knows what he was planning on doing to you tonight. He looked like he was going to torment your body until you screamed and begged for him.

Or so you thought.

He was leaking profusely when his thumbs curl into the waistband of his dark coloured Calvin Kleins, pulling down the fabric to show off the flushed tip of his length. Everytime you looked at it, you'd wonder how you ever took that thing inside you all the way. Sylus grabs the base, nudging the leaking head into your folds, and pushed forward to slip only the head, his rough palms holding your thighs apart.

He could sense your urgency in the way you tried to buck your hips to get him deeper but he held you down with no problem.

"do you wanna cum, kitten?" His voice comes out smug and low, knowing you had nothing in your favour tonight. if only your begging could you out of such a situation.

Without having to wait for a response, he thrusts forward to bury himself deeper within you, grunting as a result of your tight walls clamping down around his cock as if trying to suck him in deeper. Your eyes roll back, fingers trembling as they dug into the mattress, heels digging into his back when you wrap your legs around his hips to keep him from backing away.

"Sylus—" Your languid cries reach his ear all the while he keeps teasing you, subtly rolling his hips back and forth to try and get you more aroused and impatient. he loved seeing you like that.

Suddenly, he thrusts deeply, making you arch your back like cat into a perfect semi-circle, mouth wide open into a choked moan. Tears well up in the corners of your eyes as a result of sylus' hips thrusting hard enough to make your vision go blank. More, more, more, was all your mind could think of.

Up until now you have never realised how hard sylus could actually go on you, maybe he never fully went wild when you two did it before but this time, maybe he was so pissed at your little prank that he just couldn't bring himself to concern over your wellbeing. For once, he didn't care if you broke into a fit of tears because how painful it was or scratched away at his back or even hit him. All he knew was how to make you beg him to let you come because he sure as hell was not going to let you relieve yourself that easily.

His thrusts picked up the speed, the lewd, obscene sound of skin slapping against skin, and your languid, pornographic cries were enough fuel for him to keep wrecking your pussy. He was already close, and as much as he would hate to admit, your pussy clenching and throbbing around his dick, sucking him in deeper than he has ever been, was the closest to heaven he's ever going to be.

You could feel his seed spill into you, filling you up so deep that you almost felt it choke you. Your sight was blurry with tears, and with each rough thrust of sylus' hips you could only feel your own orgasm building. Right when you feel your toes curl and walls clench around his dick tightly, he pulls out, malevolent eyes watching you quiver and whimper around from the orgasm denial.

Sylus leans down just enough to brush his lips against your ear in a lewd whisper, "That's what you get from pranking me, kitten." and pushed himself off the bed, leaving you with his seed dripping down your thigh.

--

sorry babies, the ending was a little rushed T_T

[puripurin]

— Dance Partner!Yan, who was the embodiment of child star when he was 9 with his flexibility and incredible dance skills at such a young age, made him a little— scratch that, a massive little shit from the numerous praises he was showered with. That was until you stepped foot into the studio he was practicing at with your parents.

You, back then as a 9 year old child, didn't come from a wealthy family, but that didn't stop your parents from saving up until they could afford 2 months of dance practice lessons. It wasn't cheap either as the dance studio became popular from just him alone, but it was worth it for your safety as a child.

Almost immediately, he was infatuated with you. Talking with you, helping you, and just being overly friendly towards you. There was no doubt he was never going to let you go, even as a 9 year old. That's why he volunteered (well closer to asking his parents to threaten his dance coach) to be your one and olny dance partner.

You were ecstatic until you realized that you only had a week left of your dance lessons. Of course, you were sad and kind of embarrassed, but you wanted your parents to spend the money on other things other than something so frivolous, so you never said anything.

That first day when he found out that you weren't coming back was a nightmare. He was screaming and crying for you to come back, and he even lost his voice, so he resorted to isolating himself.

When you eventually came back later that day because of the frantic calls that your parents had gotten, he held on to you tight for hours and was only babbling incoherent sentences. From that day onwards, his parents were paying for you to go to the dance studio so that something like that never happens. Which leads you to the current day him.

Dance Partner! Yan was heavily affected by that incident, so now you and him were together for almost everything. Sleeping, bathing, cooking, and, obviously, dance performances. He always knows where you are, and you always know where he is.

He thinks that you are his one and only and will die on that hill forever. He's even made sure that you and him lost your virginity to one another.

Along with never allowing anyone to be your dance partner. If there was a new person who hadn't been informed of your relationship with one another and insisted on talking to you, his touchiness blows through the roof. He'll start groping you and making you flushed more obviously to deter that person away.

"Now, now, stop getting feisty. You don't think I'm tired of making sure people know that you are mine?"

Awoop, art jumscare that is partly finished. Ofc its Cecil and Clear. Some parts look bad, but idc. Im not planning for art to be my main hobbie, and i rarely draw.

Also, here's some more images? Imagines?? Ummm, whichever one is the corect one.

Also another character added to my ever so slightly increasing roster of ocs. I was gonna write the the other charas but this was siting in my head rent free like, I let you come and live her for free and I don't even charge you rent?? The disrespect i just underwent.

Anyways, it was originally going to be a dance instructor slowly getting possessvie over you and only teaching you lewd dances then it actually became dance partner yan. So un yeah wwoop.

Noy preoofread

[prettygirl-gabi]

Chocolate-Covered Strawberries

Rating: Mature

Warning: Vinnie being a munch..oral (fem receiving), reader has some thicc thighs MDNI!!

I repeat MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!!!!

Category: F/M

Fandom: Vinnie hacker...

Relationships: Vinnie Hacker x black f reader

Summary: Vinnie being a munch before his stream...

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Vinnie’s POV

It’s not often I get the luxury of waking up before her, but when I do, I make the most of it. The early morning light spills through the blinds, casting a soft glow on her smooth brown skin. She’s curled up on her side, her chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. Her hair is freshly done—a crown of thick, shiny braids that she got done yesterday. She looks like a goddess.

But that’s not why I’m awake. No, I’ve been staring at her thick thighs peeking out from under the covers for the past five minutes. Those thighs that drive me insane every single time. I swallow hard, knowing I have a full day ahead of me—a 24-hour stream I promised my fans—but before I let the day steal me away from her, I have to make this moment ours.

I shift carefully, peeling the blankets off her without waking her. She stirs, mumbling something incoherent, and I freeze. Once I’m sure she’s still asleep, I get to work, kissing the inside of her thighs and trailing upward.

“Mmm... Vinnie?” Her voice is groggy, but there’s a hint of amusement laced in her tone.

“Morning, baby,” I mumble against her skin.

“Vinnie, what are you—” Her words cut off into a soft gasp as I slide her legs apart gently.

“Just let me take care of you,” I whisper, already lost in her scent, her warmth.

She moans softly, and I swear, it’s the best sound in the world. I take my time, savoring every second, every taste, every reaction. She tries to push my head away at one point, half-heartedly, but I grip her thighs firmly, holding her in place.

“Vinnie, you’re such a—”

“A munch?” I finish for her, grinning against her.

Her laughter is breathy and light. “Yes. A damn munch.”

I don’t argue. She’s not wrong. I keep going until she’s trembling beneath me, her hands clawing at my shoulders and back. She leaves marks—I know she does—but I can’t bring myself to care. She tastes like chocolate-covered strawberries, and I tell her as much when she finally catches her breath.

“You’re insane,” she says, panting as she pulls the covers back over her.

“Insanely in love with you,” I counter, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. Her braids smell like coconut oil and heaven.

“You’re lucky I love you too,” she mutters, but I catch the small smile tugging at her lips.

Fast forward two hours later, and I’m sitting in front of my PC, logging into my stream. I decided to stream shirtless today—partly because it’s comfortable, but mostly because she stole my shirt after I showered. Seeing her tiny frame swallowed up in my oversized shirt did things to me, but I had a schedule to keep.

“Yo, what’s up, chat?” I greet my viewers, running a hand through my hair. Comments flood in immediately, the chat scrolling so fast I can barely keep up.

“Bro, why are you shirtless?”

“Vinnie, what happened to your back??”

“Why are your lips so swollen???”

I chuckle, shaking my head. “Man, y’all are nosy today.”

The questions keep coming, though.

“Did you get in a fight?”

“Did you fall or something?”

I glance over at her sitting on the couch behind me, still wearing my shirt, her thick thighs on full display. She’s scrolling through her phone, pretending not to notice me staring.

“Nah,” I say, smirking. “No fight. No fall. Just... let’s call it ‘relationship perks.’”

Chat explodes.

“WHAT???”

“VINNIE EXPLAIN.”

“PERKS???”

She looks up from her phone and arches an eyebrow at me. “Relationship perks, huh?”

“What?” I shoot back, grinning. “It’s true.”

She rolls her eyes but doesn’t argue, and that only makes me laugh harder.

About halfway through the stream, I’m taking a break to grab water when she wanders into the kitchen. She’s still wearing my shirt, and it’s slipping off one shoulder, exposing her soft, brown skin. She’s so tiny—barely reaching my chest, but she packs enough attitude for someone twice her size.

“Hey,” I call out, pulling her into my arms before she can escape.

“Vinnie, you’re live,” she says, swatting at my hands, though she doesn’t pull away.

“They can wait,” I murmur, pressing a kiss to her forehead. Then, because I can’t help myself, I add, “God, your thighs drive me insane, you know that?”

Her cheeks flush, and she smacks my chest lightly. “Shut up!”

“What?” I tease, spinning her around and planting her on the counter. “It’s true. You’re so beautiful, baby. I can’t get enough of you.”

She bites her lip, trying to hide her smile, but I catch it anyway. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

“And you’re lucky I love you,” I shoot back, leaning in to kiss her again.

By the end of the stream, the chat is still buzzing with questions about my lips, my back, and my overall mood. I ignore most of them, but when someone asks why I’m grinning so much, I can’t help but answer.

“Because life’s good,” I say simply. “And my girl’s even better.”

She throws a pillow at me from across the room, and I laugh so hard I almost fall out of my chair.

Life really is good.

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-Thank You For Reading!🩵🩶

-prettygirl-gabi🎀✨️