#anon answered

[pinkkkkat]

Hi!! Hope ur having a good day! Could I ask u to write something abt caitvi x fem!reader who forgets to take care of herself (bonus points if she's a workaholic)

hi i’m SO late i’m so sorry baby

(reader is a student because i’m an overworked student and this is self-indulgent like everything else i write also this is nsfw sorry if that’s not what you wanted anon! no use of y/n)

it’s not new for you to work yourself to the bone. whether it’s pulling more than one consecutive all nighter to get papers finished on time, or spending full twelve hour shifts in the library pouring over your books and notes, you slip easily into an all-work and absolutely no play mindset (not that showering or hey, eating, counts as ‘play,��� but anyways)

usually, nobody notices. so what, you disappear sometimes (for weeks), but you always pop back up looking normal, so it doesn’t draw attention. everyone knew that you were a dedicated student. the only reason caitlyn notices you’ve stopped caring for yourself is because she sees the trait of obsessively working until you drop reflected in herself

you started dating caitlyn and vi in the early summer, so they had ever seen you in your element. when the academy starts back up in the fall, your girlfriends are excited to see the sparkle in your eyes when you tell them about your passion, hands moving animatedly as you talk at a rapid pace. vi often teases you for being a nerd, but cait is much the same, so it’s two against one there

anyways

i think cait would bring it up to vi first, asking if she’s noticed how you’re starting to pull away a little, and when they do get to see you, you’re not yourself. usually, you keep your appearance well put together, hair down and outfit chosen to bolster your look-good feel-good attitude. lately though, the bags under your eyes have become prominent, and some nights you don’t come home, saying you’re gonna work late at the academy, but then not going home at all

at first, vi is just super proud of you, for working hard at what you love. she understands what it’s like to want something so bad that you can’t help but “stay in the grind.” she sends you texts in the group chat often throughout your busy days, pictures of her at the gym or a gif of little cat, always with a message saying she’s so proud of her girl, that she loves you

after cait mentions how worried she is, vi starts to notice that you’re not as cheery as before, on top of the eye bags an disheveled appearance that is starting to become your staple look. she’s frustrated with herself for not noticing and taking care of you, and with you a little for not taking care of yourself. cait convinces her to let her try and help first, as someone with a more similar academic experience

caitlyn starts showing up at the academy, at least once every day. she brings food, and coffee, and sometimes she gets jayce, but more often viktor, out of the lab to accompany you. she always takes your hand, dragging you from what you’re doing to sit with her and just talk. she’s subtle about her worry, not wanting you to feel guilty, but wanting to change your habits slowly without you noticing (cait is so conniving i love her)

as the semester continues, you only seem to get worse, despite cait’s best efforts. cait is consistently holding vi back from saying something blunt, because she doesn’t want to upset you, or to cause you to give up on what you love all together out of guilt. in the end, you end up coming to them, having completely exhausted yourself and tilting your last straw

it’s late when you get to the kirraman household, knowing you girlfriends are there. you don’t know what time it is, the sun having set some uncounted number of hours earlier. you knock on the door (even though you know you can just walk in), embarrassed about how bad you’ve let yourself get. cait opens the door and envelops you in a long hug after taking one look at you, standing on her porch in a big sweatshirt, sniffling a bit, unwashed hair piled onto the top of your head

“oh my darling, come inside”

she’s warm and so soft with you, and you’re already feeling better. cait shushes every attempt you make to apologize, for showing up out of nowhere after not really showing up at all for a little while. she brings you up into her room, where vi sits on the end of the bed

vi nearly knocks you to the floor with the force of her hug. she’s strong, and she’s whispering to you about how much she loves you, and how proud she is of you for coming to them for help when you need it, for recognizing that in yourself. her words bring you to tears, and her arms wrap tighter around your torso. you feel cait join in on the hug, tucking you and vi under her chin and squeezing her arms around you both

they bring you to take a bath, and vi gets in first, hissing at the hot temperature of the water. you sit between her thighs, and she wraps her arms around your torso, calloused hands covering your entire stomach. cait sits on the edge of the tub, asking you about your work, and sternly but lovingly detailing how much time you’re allowed to spend at the academy from now on, until you find an appropriate balance between your work and your life. vi hums in agreement with everything cait says, punctuating every particularly harsh sentence with a soft kiss to the juncture where your neck meets your shoulder

they leave you in the bathroom to wash your hair in he shower, and when you come out of the bathroom, you’re wearing one of vi’s hoodies from her gym, and cait’s too long pyjama pants, and you look more refreshed than you have since the summer. you look so cuddly and cute that cait starts cooing at you, and you giggle, batting her hands away when she squishes your face

vi is sitting on the bed, manspreading in that way that she does, and she’s smiling softly at her two girls

(NSFW NOW BTW)

“c’mere baby”

and you do, standing between vi’s legs as she wraps her hands around your waist. you lean down to kiss her, and soon enough her tongue is licking at our b otto’s lip, and you’re opening your mouth to let her in, your hands draped loosely around her neck. you sigh into the kiss when vi’s hands starting palming at your hips, your waist

vi pulls you into her, lifting you effortlessly into her lap so you’re straddling her. the kiss gets deeper, and you whine when vi pulls back. she smiles at you, and tilts her head towards the top of the bed

“how pretty is our girlfriend, huh baby?”

you turn to look, and there’s cait, wearing your favourite set of pink lingerie and sitting up against the headboard, hair down and legs spread open only slightly. you flush a bright red when you see her, mouthing parting slightly when you lick your lips. vi bounces you on her lap for a moment when you don’t say anything

“tell her baby”

“cait, you’re gorgeous”

vi leans into mouth at your neck, murmuring to you about keeping your eyes on caitlyn, and you do. you’re still blushing, silly in your position, but you can’t help it, with how caitlyn is staring at you while vi sucks marks into our soft skin. vi shimmies further onto the bed with you, and hooks her hands under your thigh to lay your down softly on the bed, your back pressed to cait’s chest

cait is immediately sweeping your hair to the side and digging her teeth into the side of your neck, causing a sweet little noise to slip out of your mouth. vi groans at the sound, pressing a strong thigh up against you as your hands make purchase on her biceps. cait’s mouth on your neck is teasing, a nip followed by soothing kitten lick, and vi is holding herself up above you, her free hand hooking under your knee to bring your leg up over her hip as she pushes her leg against you more firmly

eventually, you’re getting desperate and whiny, and vi gives in as soon as she hears the first “vi, please,” slip from your beautiful mouth. she pulls your (cait’s) pyjama pants down, panties too, and your immediately rucking your hips into nothing, searching for some friction to help you out. normally, vi is a lot more teasing, but not today

“vi is gonna take care of you, okay sweet girl?”

and vi does. she presses her hands onto the backs of your thighs, pushing them open and up. without any prelude, she gets to it, licking through your wetness and groaning at the taste. you’re arching away from cait, whose one hand has taken to holding your hips in place to help vi, the other tucking itself underneath your (vi’s) hoodie to pluck at your nipples

it takes no time at all for your girlfriends to have you a whimpering, squirming mess, begging to cum. cait is whispering softly to you, hot breath slipping over the shell of your ear, shushing you and telling you how good you’re being for them, how much you deserve to feel good, and could you cum for them, please?

you do, of course. it cracks through you, hips stuttering on vi’s mouth, legs trying to clamp shut but stopped by vi’s strong hands. vi works you through it until you’re whining and pushing at her head, overstimulated. you collapse in heavy breaths, thoroughly sated and exhausted

caitlyn is instantly tugging at you to turn around, head resting on her chest. she pulls you tight to her with a hand on your waist after readjusting your sweatshirt to be comfy. her spare hand comes up to run through your still-damp hair. vi slides your panties back on but abandons the pj pants, kissing her way up your bare legs and rewinding you of how well you’ve done, and again how proud she is

vi tucks herself up behind you, spooning you, arm thrown over both you and cait. that’s how you fall asleep, pressed tightly between the two of them. you drift off instantly, and over your head, vi and caitlyn smile at each other

you don’t overwork yourself again

[pukefactory]

PLEASE comfort with n murder drones Tumblr dot com with a s/o who is emotional and constantly thinks they’re not good enough for n whenever you can! /ref ^^

remember to dink warder and eat when u need to bestieeee <3

If there’s one thing I’m particularly good at, it’s drinking plenty of water (which isn’t very good when my bladder is as fragile as glass lol)—but I hope you’re taking care of yourself too, staying hydrated and eating when necessary. The same applies to anyone reading this! That aside, this is such a wholesome request, and I hope reading about N being an absolute sweetheart eases any troubles you might be facing.

˖⁺‧₊˚ ˚₊‧⁺˖✮ WARM THOUGHTS ✮˖⁺‧₊˚ ˚₊‧⁺˖

▷ Summary: A compilation of headcannons featuring N comforting an insecure reader.

▷ Character(s): Serial Designation N (Murder Drones)

▷ Genre: Headcanons, Fluff, SFW, Comfort

▷ Warning(s): None - Completely Safe!

✶ Despite his shortcomings, N is deeply in tune with your emotions—possibly even more than you are. He instantly picks up on your distress, much like an emotional support dog, and is by your side before you can even explain what’s bothering you. Once you open up to him, N is determined to do whatever it takes to show how important you are to him.

✶ The moment you begin doubting yourself in any way, N is quick to reassure you that you’re not a burden to him and that you’re the most important person in his life. He pulls you into a gentle embrace, wrapping you in his sturdy metal arms while offering heartfelt affirmations of love and support.

✶ To help you feel at ease when you’re feeling down, N wraps you in the softest, coziest blanket he can find and sits beside you, resting his head on your shoulder while holding your hand. Instinctively, he wraps his tail around you for added comfort and support. Whether you need someone to quietly sit with you or listen to your troubles, he’s always there, no matter what.

✶ N may not be the greatest at offering advice, but he always puts in his best effort. You can count on him to listen carefully and take everything you say to heart. He works tirelessly to help you overcome any self-worth struggles with his gentle smile and playful gestures of affection. When he tells you he loves you, he truly means it—and if you ever doubt it, he’ll make sure to remind you every chance he gets.

✶ Whenever you begin to relax, N does his best to provide a distraction. Whether it’s anime, drawing, or reading, he will try anything to ease your mind. Once the two of you discover an activity that truly soothes your nerves, he makes sure to always have the necessary materials readily available for any future emergencies.

✶ Forehead kisses are his go-to! He gently presses soft kisses against your head to comfort you, whether it’s after a difficult moment or an emotional outburst. The tenderness of his touch provides a calming presence, offering something reassuring to focus on during moments of panic—a sweet and affectionate distraction.

✶ If you feel drained after a panic attack, N will effortlessly pick you up and carry you wherever you need to go. He’ll often keep you close simply out of concern, refusing to let you out of his sight for a while. His default is to hold you in a gentle bridal carry, never showing any signs of strain, no matter how long he carries you. Your comfort is his priority, and as long as you’re at ease, so is he.

✶ Deep down, N is genuinely concerned for your well-being and simply wants to keep you safe by his side. At times, he may push himself too hard in an effort to improve your mental state and solve everything on his own. However, the moment you reassure him to slow down and just stay by your side, he quickly relaxes, realizing that his presence alone is more than enough for you.

[scribbly-artist]

I dont have any fic ideas but heres a headcanon:

Jinx found out Isha was ticklish while painting those blue cloud things on her arm (Isha kept giggling and pulling away) Jinx totally took her sweet time painting after noticing

AWWW THAT’S SO CUTE

I didn’t even think of that but YOU’RE RIGHT. Poor Isha would have been giggling her head off trying to stay still 🥺

[coffeebooksrain18]

Why is the fandom so obsessed with comparing Daenerys and Rhaenyra? They literally have zero similarities. Daenerys was a nobody before she became the mother of dragons etc. She was a princess in exile, she had no one except the crazy brother who sold her to Drogo. Rhaenyra was a rich and spoiled daddy's daughter who literally had everything from birth. Daenerys' story makes me feel sorry for her even though I'm not even her stan, while Rhaenyra just annoying.

I completely agree. I honestly feel like Rhaenyra is almost this apology for s8 Dany. They are nothing alike though.

While Dany has earned everything she has Rhaenyra was just handed it on a silver platter. While Dany had to prove herself and understood that Rhaenyra just expected everyone to bend the knee even though she isn't fit to rule and she has a brother and by Andal law and even Northern law he should be heir.

Also there is the fact Dany never forced anyone to fight for her, she let them choose. You are free and it you want to join me do it. Where as Rhaenyra expects everyone to fight for her as she sits back and does nothing (at least with book Rhaenyra and at times Show Rhaenyra).

They are VERY different characters. They have different outlooks on life. So when fans or even the Show runners try and make them the same or even similar it falls flat. We've had a Dany we know Dany, give me bratty, spoiled, mad Rhaenyra who wears pretty dresses as she threatens to kill you. That is what the fans wanted not this knock off Dany.

Thank you so much for the ask Anon!

[bunnis-monsters]

I saw your cow and bull hybrids post and it got me wondering. How would the hybrids take care of pregnant reader. [Both Cows and Bulls] Like during the pregnancy and after the baby/babies are born.

The bull hybrids are pretty much banned from handling you once you’re past 3 months. The cow hybrids will charge at them, stopping and huffing until they back off.

This is because the bulls are way too strong! They could end up hurting you unintentionally, which would put the calf in your belly in danger!

The cows and farmer are your main caretakers, with a doctor coming to check on you monthly. It’s not easy, the bulls are incredibly protective over you and will absolutely impale anyone that they deem suspicious or dangerous to you and the calf with their horns.

The cows spend most of their time fussing over you, keeping you fed and warm at all times. The cows also like to keep you sat on their cocks, cooing and rubbing your belly and filling you up with lots of cum!

This makes the bulls very jealous… but it can’t be helped. Even at their most gentle, sex with the bulls is far rougher than sex with a human.

They’re all determined to keep you safe and content, and once they know you’re pregnant, you aren’t leaving the farm. Once you’re near the birth of the calf, they won’t even let you out of the barn! There’s always a hand on your belly, a cow nuzzling into you and mooing softly.

Once the calf is born, their protective nature only sky rockets. No one outside of the barn is allowed to touch the calf besides the farmer and doctor. If the bulls sense a threat, they deal with it immediately.

It’s not recommended to go near the barn after their mate has given birth… but with you being a fragile human, it’s even worse. They see you as a runt, a little thing in need of protecting.

The bulls are eager to start milking you after the birth, and become frustrated when you scold them and only want to feed the baby.

It’s not long before you’re knocked up again. Only a few months after giving birth, you’re getting stuffed full of cum front both bulls and hybrids, your pussy puffy and swollen from abuse. They just can’t help it, you’re so lovely and soft… you’re tight and warm and make them so horny!! They can’t resist your scent!

You should just get used to being their breeding cow… they’ll pamper you and treat you like a princess, all you have to do is be a good girl and let them fuck another calf into you.

———————

NSFW TAGLIST: @sunset-214 @screaming-crying-screamingagain @strawberrypoundtown @avalordream @icommitwarcrimes @bazpire @im-eating-rn @anglingforlevels @kinshenewa @pasteldaze @j3llyphisching @unforgettablewhvre @yoongiigolden @peachesdabunny @murder-hobo @leiselotte

[xotaemintol]

Which one of the dreamies is the most dominant iyo?

(Not you sending this anonymously after texting me about it girl lmfao 😭) but anyways, I’ve actually been thinking about this for a while now because I want to start doing NCT DREAM hc’s but I feel like it’ll definitely shock some people if I don’t put Jeno first buuuut…

My personal ranking would be: Jaemin, Jeno, Mark, Jisung, Haechan, Chenle, and Renjun.

Jaemin gives soft dom energy, like he’s rough but he’d also praise you and tell you that you’re doing a good job for him. He seems like he gets enjoyment out of you being embarrassed, covering your face, or doing anything that makes you look smaller than him. He seems like the type to have a size kink as well, so if you even utter the words “so big.” Or “too big.” He gets so turned on and will immediately tease you, he’ll ask you in soft coo’s if it feels good—telling you to take it as he thrusts into you with powerful movements. Luckily he’s not cruel enough to be so deep or so rough that he’ll bruise your cervix but it’s happened once or twice before. But like I said he gives soft dom energy, I just know that immediately after he’s clinging to you and kissing your face all over. “Oh baby you did such a good job!” He’s right back to giving you adorable words of encouragement while cleaning you up as you lie there in shambles.

Jeno seems like he’d be the most dominant but I beg to differ, he’s definitely a service dom. He wants to do anything to get you off but he’s not submissive, tell him where you want him to touch, tell him you want him to eat you out, ask him to finger you—your strong puppy boyfriend is there to please you right away “Like that baby? Does it feel good? Right there?” . Sometimes he’s a little strict on what he will and won’t do, once you asked him to fuck you in the bathroom of the restaurant you were in and he told you no three times before he basically dragged you there and fucked you like a wild man. But in general Jeno likes to be gentle with you, when he’s eating you out or fingering you he loves getting genuine reactions—he compliments you as he gives you soft kisses on your thighs with his fingers deep inside of you. When he fucks you (if he’s not feeling especially feral or punishing you.) he holds you close, he’ll hold your body tightly as his thick cock slides in and out of you—his praises are quiet and accompanied by gentle kisses all over your neck. He’s really into the sounds you make so he fucks you like he’s dying to hear you say his name. “Good girl. Good good girl..my pretty baby…pretty princess…say-say my name…say my name.” His words are both soft yet aggressive, and when he cums inside of you he holds you so tight you might pop.

Mark also gives soft dom energy, he’s more of a playful dom. He likes to keep things mostly vanilla and lead you calmly, he loves guided masturbation and he especially loves it when you touch yourself as if he’s not there. He’ll praise with in a low and steady voice, telling you to keep the same slow pace as you move your fingers in and out of you. it’s absolutely agonizing but the way he talks to you makes your whole body throb with desire. “Just like that baby, keep your eyes on me…now move your hand…just like that baby, that’s right…good girl.” He’s so good at praise, it’s literally insane how good he is at using his words—he’s almost too good. The moment he notices you getting impatient he starts teasing you, he’ll tell you to beg for him and trust if you don’t beg enough he’ll tell you to do it with more passion. “No no no baby, say it like you mean it; say please, please fuck me Mark.” The moment you give him what he wants he’ll fuck you like his life depends on it. You feel like you’re floating away from how good his stroke game is, while he’s fucking you he’s still talking to you—telling you how good you feel around him, how pretty you are and how much he loves fucking you.

Jisung is definitely more of a hard dom but he could pass as a switch but it’s only because hes extremely likely fuck himself dumb. Jisung is really really into seeing you beg, cry, cum, shake, scream—anything that indicates pleasure (or pain hes close to that line.) makes him go crazy. He absolutely loves to degrade you but with a healthy mixture of praise too, “You’re so pretty baby, my pretty girl…my pretty slut. Did my voice make you that horny? Did my slutty girl go dumb already?” He’s such a dirty talker, especially when you lose it. His fingers are enough to have you empty headed and desperate, his long slender fingers fuck you so good; but they also only make you want him more. Every whiny call of his name makes him sicker than the last. “Sung? Sungie? Jisung? What’s wrong baby? Is it too much? Are you trying to tell me that it’s too much?” It’s like his fingers shut your brain off through your pussy, and when he finally fucks you it’s so rough—he loves to kiss you while he’s deep inside of you, something about it turns him on so much more. And of course he has to cum inside of you, he just loves how it feels.

Haechan is more of a switch, a bratty one too. He enjoys doing things that’ll piss you off, if he’s feeling more dominate that day he’ll edge you for hours. He’s so set on seeing you cry and beg, if he’s fingering you and he notices you getting close he’ll stop right before you finish—he’ll do this for so long until you finally break. “You look so cute baby, are you gonna cry? Hm? You gonna cry baby?” He loves teasing you, he gets off to the way you whimper and call his name. “Hyuck? D-Do…you look so cute when you beg.” When he fucks you he absolutely loves to make you look at him; seeing your eyes roll as you struggle to keep them open makes his toes curl. But when he’s submissive, the shoe is completely on the other foot. He’s so sensitive, if you touch his nipples even a little his body flinches. “You’re so cute like this Hyuck…” When you praise him he melts into such a mess, his voice cracks as you ride him—he’s so sensitive, he can hardly even speak from the feeling of your walls around him. You’re so warm, so wet, and he fits so perfectly inside of you. He gets so drunk on you when he’s being subby, and when he cums he has to hold you and have your body as close to his as possible.

Chenle is also a bratty switch, when hes subbing he’s so difficult and disobedient and when he’s a dom he’s so cruel. “You look so pretty on your knees baby, do you think you’ve earned it yet?” He’ll tease you when you’re sucking his dick, complimenting how pretty your lips look around his cock and pulling your hair as you look him in his eyes. When he fucks you he’s so vocal and so rough, biting, scratching, hair pulling—he likes it all. Of course he has to cum inside of you, he fucks you as deep as humanly possible and when he’s close he’ll tease you about how he’s going to get your pregnant one of these times. “You ready to have my baby?” He’s such a kinky fuck. But when he’s subbing…it’s like what he did to you is only a projection of what he wants. Slap him, bite him, pull his hair and degrade him; sit on his face and make him eat you out till his jaw locks. “You’re such a good boy for me.” Even the most basic praise in between humiliating him will reduce him to a pathetic and desperate animal in heat. When you’ve finally had your fill of him eating you out and decide that he’s worthy of fucking you he’s so overstimulated that he can’t even speak; all that comes out of his mouth is gibberish. But even in that state he can still beg to cum inside of you—and if he’s been good enough you’ll let him.

Renjun gives me model sub energy, like he wants you to treat him like a prince—buy him sexy outfits to wear, worship his body, and spoil him with kisses and pleasure. He loves it when you suck his dick, he gets off to the feeling of your lips and tongue before he gets to fuck you—and of course it’s his right to fuck you; he’s your spoiled baby after all. “Mhmm…just like that, it feels so good.” His moans are so pretty, it’s such a show when fucking him—the way his back arches and how his heavy dick throbs and twitches is so lewd and beautiful. By the time he’s inside of you he’s already cum three times, but he can last for another because it means he finally gets to be deep inside of you. When he’s on top his stroke game is amazing, it’s like his brain has moved to his dick from how perfectly he fucks you. His lips are red and kiss swollen and his entire face is flushed—when you get on top you can fully appreciate how beautiful his face looks when you please him. “S-So good…” his voice drifts off as his eyes roll, his head falls back into the pillows and he goes silent from how good you feel. When he finally cums he gasps for air and looks you right in your eyes—he loves to look at you and watch your face as he cums, you’re just so pretty and he loves you so much; he has to burn the image of you in his mind as he cums inside of you.

[oizysian]

Can I request mommy!wanda x reader where Wanda uses a vibrator on reader for the first time?

Let Mommy Take Care of You | Wanda Maximoff

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!reader

Warnings: Pet names, vibrators, biting

Word count: ~800

•

“Mommy,” I whispered softly, looking up at her with wide, trusting eyes. “Is it going to hurt?”

“No, baby,” she spread my legs with her free hand, her other gripping at a pretty, pink vibrator. “It’ll be just like mommy’s fingers.”

Despite my nervousness, I was already wet for her, excited to try something new.

“Open your mouth,” she commanded softly. “Get it nice and wet for mommy.”

I looked up at her with innocent eyes, opening my mouth and sticking out my tongue slightly so I could lick the tip of the toy.

“That’s my good girl.” She smiled, bringing it up to my tongue and letting me get a feel for it. “Pretend it’s my fingers. Go ahead.”

I knew exactly what to do with mommy’s fingers. I swirled my tongue along the tip, then brought it into my mouth, making a show of sucking it, just how mommy liked.

She moaned lowly at the sight, her eyes never leaving the toy as it slipped in and out of my mouth.

“Good girl. Are you ready?”

I nodded and she slowly pulled it out from between my lips, biting her own lower lip with desire at the sight.

“You take it so well. I’m so proud of you, detka.”

“Thank you, mommy.” I said bashfully, licking the excess spit that fell from my lips.

She let the toy trail down my body, my skin rippling with excitement as she swirled it around my left nipple, then down my belly, and let it sit between my legs.

I twitched, my legs spreading wider for her as she let the toy slip between my folds, getting extra wet from my slick.

“I’m gonna turn it on now.” She said softly, pressing the button on the bottom, and it began to vibrate against me.

I let out a whine, grabbing onto her shoulder and pulling myself closer to her as the toy vibrated against my clit and slit.

“Mommy,” I looked into her eyes, then at her lips as she moved the vibe against me. “It f-feels funny.”

“I know, my sweet bunny. Wait until it’s inside you. I think you’re gonna like it.”

I panted softly, my hips rolling against it as she let me grind myself along its length. A few strokes against my clit and I felt her redirect it towards my aching cunt, the tip pushing into my hole.

“Mommy …” I whimpered nervously, the toy pressing into me, vibrating my whole body.

“Shh, dove. Let mommy take care of you.”

I nodded and she slid it inside of me. I gasped, burying my face in the crook of her neck as it fully entered, the vibrations almost too much for me. She used her free hand to hold me close, rubbing my back as she let the toy slide in and out of me.

I could feel myself drooling onto her as she fucked me, but I couldn’t do anything but moan. I squeezed my eyes tight and let my hips move on their own, her thrusts becoming more rapid as I became more accustomed to its length and girth.

“Mommy, it’s too much.” I whispered softly. I could almost feel it in my belly, and the vibrations were deliciously powerful.

“No, it’s not, bunny. Trust mommy.” She said breathlessly, her own slick covering her thighs as she watched herself fucking me.

“Mommy, please,” I cried, my body trembling with pleasure. “I-I’m gonna …”

“Cum for mommy, my precious bunny. Soak the bed for mommy.”

Tears built up in my eyes as I felt my orgasm approaching. I licked at the skin of her neck, burying my teeth gently into the sensitive spot I knew she had, drawing a long, low moan out of her.

I grunted, my hips following her speed and movements, which accelerated once I gave her that little love bite.

I knew I was going to cum. I was so close. I raised my head and grabbed her face, pulling her close to me so I could kiss her, taste her, and she wasted no time in swallowing my moans and slipping her tongue into my mouth to claim me.

I whimpered as I came, the sound muffled by her lips. My whole body felt as though it was on fire, my legs trembling as I rode out my high on her vibe.

She slowly pulled it out of me, letting it rest on my belly as it continued to vibrate. I moaned at the feel of it, wanting - no - needing more.

“Mommy, don’t stop.” I whispered, raising my hips towards her. “Don’t stop fucking me.”

“Relax, malyshka.” She pressed a kiss to my sweaty forehead. “I’m not done with you yet.”

[yandereunsolved]

Bae you know how Seasmoke claimed Addam? How about an isekai reader getting claimed by The Cannibal?

Targaryans to Cannibal: I shall claim you as my dragon!

Cannibal: *spits out fire at their direction in anger*

Reader getting their ass isekai'd to a very dangerous world that had their paranoia spill the chart with a dragon, Cannibal, claiming them: BACK! BACK I SAY YOU BEAST! BACK! I DON'T TASTE GOOD!

Cannibal: *choices the weirdly dressed human that appeared out of nowhere as its companion* *growls*

Reader in panic: Don't growl at me you overgrown lizard! My sleep schedule is fucked and I can't even take care of myself! What makes you think I can-

Short human and temperamental dragon in a nutshell

Sweetheart, yes.

The targaryens are just incredibly confused that such a gigantic dragon is following around a person they have never seen. The poor thing. Reader can't even get away from The Cannibal.

They just nudge reader and huff angrily, burning anyone who gets near reader.

Reader is just like: "No! We do not kill villagers. Bad Cannibal. >:("

The Cannibal is like "okay momma/poppa. 🥺"

Reader is now going to have to deal with a yandere Team Black & Green.

[awhoreintheory]

Circus Boy

Directly inspired by @erinwantstowrite 's art!!! post

Request from awesome amazing cool Anon

Over the years, circuses have lost their spark.

Dick would know— he’d literally grown up in one. Back then, the circus was a symphony of effort and artistry. Weeks, sometimes months, were spent perfecting routines. Performances were designed to dazzle, to inspire awe, no matter the country or culture of the audience. The comedy sketches weren’t just filler— they were genuinely funny, capable of drawing laughter even from the most reluctant parent dragged along by an excited child. Every act had a rhythm, a purpose, and above all, passion. The performers took pride in their craft, and the audience responded in kind, feeding off the energy, cheering and clapping until their hands were raw and their throats sore. 

Now? Now they were dull. Predictable routines recycled ad nauseam. Costumes that looked like they were bought in bulk from a clearance rack. Tents and stages slapped together with the barest effort to resemble grandeur. The magic, the joy—the soul of it all—had been replaced with a singular, glaring goal: profit. No one cared if the audience laughed, gasped, or even paid attention, so long as they paid their entrance fees.

But recently, whispers of something different had started making waves in Gotham: a circus gaining a reputation for being... well, different.

Dick’s curiosity was piqued. He hadn’t planned to go, at first. But the memories of his youth, of what the circus used to mean, stirred within him. Before he knew it, he’d wrangled (read: blackmailed) together as much of the family as he could to go see it. Which, wasn’t a whole lot considering quite a few were out of state currently, but it was enough to make him smile.

“Why must I come along? I do not see the point,” Damian groused, arms folded tightly across his chest as the group approached the circus grounds. Despite his protests, he made no move to make a stealthy exit.

“You’re coming because it’ll be good for you,” Dick said, ruffling Damian’s hair just to annoy him. Damian promptly swatted his hand away, glaring daggers at his adoptive brother.

“You don’t even know if it’ll be good,” Tim chimed in, hands shoved into his jacket pockets. “What if this thing is as boring as all the other ones you’ve complained about?”

“Then we’ll all get funnel cake and call it a night,” Stephanie said brightly, making it clear where her true excitement lay. “I’m in it for the food, anyway.”

Dick pouted. “You didn’t have to say the quiet part out loud!” 

“Don’t underestimate funnel cake,” Duke added with a smirk. “It might be the only thing saving this trip if the show’s a flop.”

Dick rolled his eyes, but his grin didn’t waver. “You’re all so cynical. Just... trust me, okay? I have a feeling about this one.”

Sure, a lot of the decorations seemed cheap thus far, but Dick can’t blame them. They’re clearly low budget, with only two shows a week, versus the seven to ten a week Dick was used to. The difference was the genuine passion and excitement in the eyes of the performers. And they were just doing pre-show stunts on the street to rouse excitement! 

Tim hummed thoughtfully. “This place has been gaining rapid popularity,” he said, the subtle edge in his tone making it clear he was already analyzing every detail. Dick saw his fingers twitch as if to take a picture. 

Dick glanced over at him but didn’t comment. He recognized that tone— Tim was in detective mode, quietly piecing together threads no one else could see yet. He did, however, take the opportunity at his siblings' distraction to subtly herd them in the direction of the tents, eager to get a good front-row seat. Damian noticed, but he didn’t do much more than roll his eyes.

Steph, however, rolled her eyes dramatically. At Tim, not Dick. “Can you just enjoy one thing without looking for a criminal conspiracy, Tim?”

Tim matched her with a roll of his own eyes, the two slipping into a bickering match that’d put an old married couple to shame if they weren’t so aggressively gay. Meanwhile, Dick let his attention wander to the stage, studying the equipment with the practiced eye of someone who’d lived this life.

Suspended high above was the trapeze rig, its bars wrapped in worn leather, the steel cables taut and secured to thick iron frames. The safety net below, while a little faded, looked sturdy enough to do its job. Not brand-new, but serviceable.

To one side, a highwire stretched across a dizzying height, its slim cable shimmering faintly under the tent lights. The rigging showed some signs of age— slightly dulled bolts and scuffed counterweights—but nothing that made Dick worry. It would hold, even if the daredevil walking it would need nerves of steel.

A teeterboard sat center stage on the ground, its spring mechanism ready to launch performers into flips and vaults. Nearby, a stack of brightly painted crates and barrels hinted at comedic skits. Clowns would probably tumble over them with exaggerated flair, while a sturdy seesaw-like prop suggested slapstick gags involving plenty of unintentional (and intentional) falls.

The whole setup had a charming scrappiness to it. The equipment could use a little TLC, sure, but Dick had no doubt it would hold up under pressure. He could tell the performers had put their trust in it, and that meant something.

For a moment, Dick felt a flicker of nostalgia. The way the crew moved, the crisp efficiency with which they handled the gear— it reminded him of home, of the way his parents had always treated the stage with reverence, as though it were sacred ground.

“Do you see how high that wire is?” Duke muttered, his voice tinged with a mix of awe and apprehension as he followed Dick’s gaze.

“I see it,” Dick replied softly, his heart tightening. He couldn’t help but wonder who had the guts to walk that cable, let alone pull off any stunts on it. He’d definitely have to stick around and chat them up, maybe have a little friendly competition. 

“Awe, man,” Duke sighed, visibly disappointed. “Guess we weren’t excited enough.”

Turns out “early” wasn’t early enough because the seating area was packed. The whole first three rows were aggressively claimed, forcing the group to settle for seats in the middle of the fourth row.

Steph and Duke promptly excused themselves to grab popcorn—or, more accurately, for Steph to scout for funnel cake. Dick had to respect the consistency.

Damian glanced at Dick, then at Tim with a withering look. “Drake, cease your ramblings. They sour my mood.”

Tim blinked, clearly taken aback. “Wait, just me? Steph was talking way more!”

Steph, who had been halfway out of earshot, whirled around with mock offense. “Excuse me? I wasn’t the one turning this into an episode of ‘True Crime: Circus Edition.’” 

“Yeah, because you’re too busy planning how to steal funnel cake from children,” Tim shot back, crossing his arms. Damian’s eyebrow twitched. Dick wondered why peace was but a mere illusion. 

“Oh, please,” Steph quipped. “You’d be the kid I steal it from, Drake.”

Before Tim could come up with a retort, and Damian became a convicted felon, the lights dimmed, cutting their bickering short. A hush fell over the crowd as the familiar low hum of a drumroll began to build.

The ringmaster strode into the center of the stage, clad in a dazzling coat of crimson and gold that shimmered under the spotlight. If you looked any closer than that, you’d see how tacky and cheap it was. His booming voice carried effortlessly across the tent.

“Ladies and gentlemen! Boys and girls! Welcome to a night of wonder, daring, and delight!” the ringmaster announced, his voice ringing through the tent as the steady drumroll built the tension. “Prepare yourselves for the extraordinary, the astonishing, the absolutely unbelievable! The show begins... now!”

The drumroll reached its peak, and with a dramatic flourish, the spotlight swept upward to reveal the first performer perched high above the stage. A man in a sparkling gold costume waved grandly to the crowd before swinging onto the trapeze. The audience clapped politely as he performed a few rudimentary tricks— basic flips and graceful swings that showcased control but lacked flair.

Two more performers joined him, each clad in similar glittering costumes. They moved with confidence, transitioning through formations and passing between trapezes, but the moves were predictable and lacked the edge Dick was hoping to see. Certainly, nothing that would make this rinky-dink circus as popular as it got so quickly. 

Tim leaned toward Dick, his tone flat. “You dragged us here for this?”

“Underwhelming,” Damian muttered, his expression neutral but his tone sharp.

Dick didn’t respond immediately, though he couldn’t disagree. The tricks were technically fine— safe, practiced, polished— but there was no spark, no passion. No magic. He resigned to going home disappointed and also to the inevitable flaming via siblings. 

But then, just as one of the performers finished an awkward landing on the platform, the ringmaster’s voice boomed again.

“And now, prepare yourselves for the prodigy of the skies, the one and only Amazing Arach-Kid!”

The spotlight shifted upward again, revealing a much smaller figure poised on a separate platform, high above the others. It was a boy— young and wiry, dressed in sleek crimson and black, his face obscured by a half-mask (not dissimilar to their domino masks, actually) that glimmered faintly in the light. For a moment, the crowd was silent, uncertain what to expect.

Without warning, the boy leaped.

The gasp from the audience was audible as the kid— Arach-Kid?— launched himself into a dramatic triple flip, his body twisting gracefully through the air before he caught the trapeze with flawless precision. The crowd erupted into applause, the energy in the tent shifting instantly.

He didn’t stop there. Swinging with a force that sent his trapeze soaring higher than any of the others had dared, he released at the peak of his arc and spun into a double somersault. Instead of catching the next trapeze, he landed neatly in the arms of one of the adult performers, who looked genuinely startled by the boy’s precision. He grinned, waving excitedly at the audience as they roared with applause. 

From there, the routine transformed. Arach-Kid became the centerpiece of the act, seamlessly incorporating daring flips, twists, and transitions between trapezes. He was passed between the adults with perfect timing, their previous mediocrity eclipsed by his sheer skill and energy.

“Whoa,” Duke murmured, leaning forward in his seat. “He’s... good.”

“Who is that kid?” Tim asked, his voice tinged with disbelief.

“Better than the rest of them combined,” Damian said bluntly, though his tone carried the faintest hint of approval.

The boy ended his routine with a jaw-dropping quadruple somersault, catching the final trapeze one-handed and hanging upside down with effortless control. Gasps and cheers erupted from the audience, their applause thunderous as he let himself swing for a moment, letting the crowd bask in his daring. Then, with a fluid motion, he swung back, releasing the trapeze bar for one final flourish.

Dick leaned forward, his breath catching as the kid’s body twisted into the unmistakable maneuver— the signature move of the Flying Graysons.

The crowd roared as he executed the technique perfectly, his form flawless, his timing impeccable. He landed with a clean dismount, arms raised triumphantly, and offered the crowd a playful bow before darting off to the wings. Even with the stage empty, shouts and applause echoed for a long time after the boy left. 

For a moment, Dick couldn’t move. His stomach churned as memories of his parents on that same trapeze flooded his mind. No one else knew that move. No one could. His parents had created it, and Dick had learned it from them. It was their legacy— his legacy.

So how, in the name of all that made sense, did this random kid just pull it off perfectly?

The lights shifted again, smoothly transitioning to the next act: a somewhat clumsy but undeniably entertaining tightrope routine. One performer started with a wobbling walk, arms flailing for comedic effect. Another joined, balancing precariously with a broomstick for support. The final performer added a unicycle to the mix, pedaling shakily across the thin wire as the audience laughed and clapped in delight.

It was… objectively funny.

But Dick barely noticed. His good mood had evaporated, replaced by a heavy knot of unease in his chest. At this point, they must have a hive mind with how they immediately filed out of the tent without a single word exchanged. 

“That was—” Tim started, breaking the tense silence.

“Dick,” Steph interrupted, her voice low, “did he just—?”

“That was your move,” Tim finished firmly, his eyes locked on Dick’s.

“It’s not possible,” Duke added, glancing at the now-empty trapeze rig. “Right? It’s your family’s thing. There’s no way some random kid from Gotham knows it.”

“I am more concerned with how he knows it,” Damian said, his voice cutting. His eyes darted to Dick. “This is your domain, Richard. You must have answers.”

Dick didn’t respond right away. He couldn’t. His hands were clenched into fists at his sides, his breathing shallow. In disbelief, he muttered, “I don’t.”

Steph frowned. “Okay, well... what do we do? Do we just ignore the fact that some kid pulled off your impossible secret family move?”

“No,” Dick said sharply, his voice colder than any of them expected. “We don’t ignore it. We find out who he is, how he learned it, and what the hell is going on.”

Tim’s brow furrowed. “Do you think someone’s trying to get your attention? Like, deliberately?”

Dick shook his head, though his face betrayed his uncertainty. “I don’t know. Maybe. I mean, it’s... it’s possible, but...” He exhaled through his nose, frustrated. “I need answers. This isn’t something you just pick up on YouTube.”

The group left the small but packed circus, their earlier excitement replaced by a shared tension. The cool night air did little to clear their heads as they walked in a tight huddle, glancing over their shoulders as if the boy would materialize out of the crowd.

“Something’s not right,” Tim said, breaking the silence.

“Obviously,” Damian muttered.

“I mean it,” Tim snapped. “Moves like that— you don’t just do them. It takes years to learn without a teacher.” He glanced at Dick. “You’re sure no one outside your family knew it? Like, absolutely sure?”

“Positive,” Dick said firmly. “The only people who knew it are gone. Except me.” His voice dropped as he added, “Or at least, they’re supposed to be.”

The group exchanged uneasy looks, about both the situation and Dick’s reaction to it. It takes quite a bit to rattle him, so to see him, well, rattled was weird. Beyond weird. It was downright wrong. 

“Either way,” Duke said cautiously, “we’re going to figure this out. Right?”

“Oh, we will,” Dick said, his voice grim. “We don’t leave things like this unanswered.”

As they disappeared into the Gotham night, paranoia settled over them like a second skin. Whatever was going on, it wasn’t going to stay a mystery for long. 

[vidals-harkness]

ok hear me out…R is Agatha’s daughter…Nick’s (younger) twin sister. Growing up she helped her mother try to find the darkhold so they could bring Nick back but after failing and seeing what it was doing to agatha she placed a protection spell on herself and ran so her mother couldn’t find her.

She ends up dating Alice after meeting at one of Lorna’s concerts and Lorna taking her in and helping her expand her powers, they got closer and eventually started dating. But have an on/off relationship after Lorna dies…

She only sees agatha again when she gets a call from Alice’s boss- cuz as her ex gfs ‘parol officer’ she obviously gets notified by these things- and goes to pick her up, only to see her mother waiting for her and Alice when they leave the store and Alice is rambling and explaining that it wasn’t her fault…

POV: the black heart actually was for R because while helping agatha try and get nick back something happened to her (and this is the part where you make up something cool like she had to trade half her heart with his dead one but the dark magic used consumed hers instead and she uses so many names that lilia couldn’t just see one name but a bunch of different ones all being carved into a black heart)

fly away, little bird (agatha harkness)

summary: agatha’s little bird flies away after she gets the darkhold. after a rocky relationship with alice wu-gulliver, just when little bird’s life seemed to have been on track, what happens when she reunites with her less-than sane mother?

fic type: angst

pairings: agatha x daughter!reader, alice wu-gulliver x reader

word count: 1.8k

The Darkhold ruined your life. It took the picket fence around your mothers, your brother, and you, and smashed it to bits before burning it down to the ground.

The Darkhold left your heart in tatters, or rather the half that was left.

“A small price to pay, little bird,” Agatha had said. “Just one small payment, and we get Nicky back,”

How small was half a heart? Small as half a fist? Or small as half your soul?

It was the latter, it seemed. As Agatha descended into the depths of dark magic, you realised just how blind you had been to the Darkhold’s grip on mortal desire. Or rather, in this case, immortal desire.

Nicholas was your everything. Your best friend, partner in crime. The one who slapped a boy for snatching your pencil in kindergarten, the one who took the blame for smearing peanut butter all over Señor Scratchy, the one who made you feel safe all those thunderous nights, the one who annoyed you to bits but loved you the same.

You wanted him back, but not like this.

You wanted the picket fence to be remade, wanted the perfect life you had back when you were five.

You wanted him back, but with your mother sane and safe from the claws of dark magic.

But fate plays a cruel game of chance.

So there you were, your life packed into a small backpack, shuffling oracle cards in your hands as you waited at the bus station. There you were, sixteen, lost, and alone, with only your cards, your bag, and Lorna Wu blasting in your ears.

All because of the Darkhold.

The sound of the singing was, unironically, music to your ears. It was calming despite the decibel level. It was despite the fact you had none.

“Hi,” a girl with almond eyes, dark curly hair that had the orange of fire within them said, approaching you after the concert.

“Hi,” you smiled, your gaze meeting hers shyly.

Lorna Wu was a force to be reckoned with, but gentle all the same. You spent hours with her, simply because she knew how to teach you. No screaming, no fighting, no breaking down. Just her hands guiding yours as the magic came from inside you, as the soft wisps danced over your fingertips, weaving wonders you had lost after Nick.

Alice and you were an adventure of secrets swapped under the sheets, gentle touches and sinful moments ensued in the two years after that concert. Of shared happiness and sadness, but as all good things did, it came to an end.

Alice was not a rule-follower, you were. She and you were yin and yang but with a gaping distance in between. Where the darkness of your heart overpowered hers, where arguments ended in slammed doors and couches for the night.

Lorna's death only made things worse.

Alice pulled away, like the tide from the shoreline before a tsunami. She pulled away and went so far, you couldn’t hold on. The huge wave that came crashing down tore your heart, your lifeboat that was your relationship with her, to pieces, leaving you stranded and alone again, like driftwood from the aftermath.

Brick by brick you rebuilt yourself, with every step being painful and tiring. As long hours and terrible coffee consumed you, as the days turned to nights, infinite and endless, it reaped rewards in the end. Rewards like a small apartment you could call your own, like a working day that lasted only eight hours that left you tired but satisfied.

But it was one phone call that destroyed it all.

“Good afternoon, is this Y/n Vidal?” The caller asked. You had changed your last name, it was easier on you to carry the burden of your second mother rather than the one who screwed you over in the first place.

“Yes, this is she,” you said, concerned.

“I’m Alice Wu-Gulliver’s boss, you number is listed in her emergency contacts,” he said. “If you could please come on down to the store, that would be great,”

You felt your world tilt, barely keeping your mind from collapsing in on itself. That irresponsible child, that girl, that woman who left you stranded…had you on her emergency contact? Still? Strange.

A normal day turned nightmare, when you arrived at the store she worked at.

Your eyes met the familiar blue of Agatha Harkness’. There she stood in her fucked-up glory, with some sort of emo boy by her side, grinning smugly.

“Hiya, hon,” she giggled, waving at you with a graceful wiggle of her fingers.

“Seriously,” you sighed, ignoring her and looking at Alice. “Come on, you idiot,”

“It wasn’t my fault!” She protested as you led her out the door. “That lady talked about the witch’s road and all of that shit Mom talked about and—“

“So you assaulted her?”

“No, I didn’t!”

You groaned. “Look, Alice, we are way past me saving your ass constantly,”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to drag you back into my shit,” she said, grabbing her bike. “I’m really sorry,”

“All good, just…remove me from your emergency contacts, that gives very… ‘I know I’m your ex but this is part of my elaborate plan to get you to take me back’ vibes,” you sighed.

"Yeah, I see that, now," she nodded, shrugging awkwardly. "Look, you're an amazing woman, and I wish you the best. And thank you, for bailing me out,"

You nodded in return, bidding her a hasty, clipped goodbye before you bumped into her.

“Okay, I don’t have the spiritual energy to fucking deal with this,” you scoffed, crossing your arms.

“Aw, you’re not even gonna say hi, little bird?” She asked in that tone. That sickly sweet tone which pissed you off.

“No,” you said plainly. “No, I’m not,”

“You got soft,” Agatha admitted as Alice’s bike drove away.

“I got smart,” you countered. “Unlike you. Dark magic has really aged you up a century,”

“Don’t be petty,” she laughed. “You wanted him back just as much as I did,”

“Yeah. I wanted him back. But I also wanted my mother,” you seethed. “I wanted my mother but where was she…oh yes, chasing ancient magic that she knew would leave her less than sane,”

“How long had you been holding that one under the rug?” She asked, smile vanishing.

“Long enough to know that it’ll take me time to forgive you,” you scoffed.

“Aw, but I’m your mama, little bird…” she giggled, patting your head. The touch stung, it truly did.

“Still bitter?”

“Still recovering,”

You sighed softly, looking down. “You know, I thought I mattered more than your dark magic. Turns out you wanted power all along,”

“Who doesn’t like power, silly little bird?” She laughed evilly. “Power is always better than any little wish,”

“It’s better than your sixteen year old daughter, I see,” you scoffed. “Don’t talk to me, Agatha. I don’t want you back in my life,”

She chuckled darkly as you turned around to walk off. “Fly away little bird,” she grinned. “I’ll catch you soon enough,”

ohh, i loved writing this one! i hope you enjoyed it, bao buns! requests are open!

[sizzleissues]

ok hi so I saw emonette on my dash and when I saw her in fingerless gloves it made me think of those black & pink prom tulle dresses that had spaghetti straps/were strapless from the 2000s/2010s or like an Avril Lavigne type dress with a long torso that has like tool underneath

I agree. I’m lucky that I was a kid during the 2000s so this type of fashion only exists in bad photos and has like a smudge on my memory but honestly. It slays

Is this what you were thinking? She’s my little princess of darkness you guys don’t know how much I love her and I’ve only known her a day

[neowinestainedress]

IM BEGGING ABT SUB!JISUNG WHO IS VERY PASSIVE AND RECEPTIVE PLEASEEE 😭😭😭

w!: femdom, orgasm control/denial, pegging, overstimulation, dom!reader, sub!jisung. no use of y/n, no physical description (no body type, hair, skin color etc)

a/n: if last year someone told me that my first writing post of 2024 would've been a jisung “drabble” i would've laughed at their face but here we are. i'm struggling to write lately so PLEASE please if you liked it let me know and reblog so more people can read it. enjoy!

Jisung would do anything for you. Or, well, to be more accurate, he would do anything to please you. 

You can’t name what you two share; if you did, you’d probably call it a tangle of messy bedsheets, wet lip kisses, and whispered moans. But there is something holding you two together. 

“Please, please, you can’t,” he stutters through gritted teeth. His head is rolled back, resting against the bedframe, damp hair sticks to his handsome face that’s tinted a bright red, and his hips jerk uncontrollably against your hand. 

“I can’t, what? Jisung,” you reply with a slight stern edge in your voice. Your hand stops at the base of his throbbing dick, leaking a copious amount of pre-cum, rolling down his length until it meets your palm. 

“No-nothing, I’m – I’m sorry, ma’am, I’m sorry,” he mumbles shaking his head. 

“Good,” you smile smugly. “Cause you don’t make the rules here, I do.” 

“Yes, yes, you do,” he hums closing his eyes as he tries to concentrate on his breathing. 

“And I don’t see why I should let you come so soon when you look so pretty for me,” you tease and notice how he almost glares at you before he quickly turns his disappointment into a frown. 

So soon. 

You’ve been edging him for at least 30 minutes; chasing his build-up just to crash it, ruining every chance of an orgasm right in front of his face, the promise of being pegged slipping more and more away. 

It’s not a punishment. You know it, and he knows it, too. He loves this. He loves when you’re all over him, your soft left hand crazing his skin while the right one moves with quick motions on his hard dick. Your lips leaving kisses like brushes of a feather on his sensible neck. The strong tug of your fingers in his black, long hair, making him hiss. 

And you love this, too. Jisung reacts perfectly at each snap of your finger. He’s so delicate as soon as you enter your private bubble and leave the world outside, crumbling at your feet like a sandcastle. His clothes are quickly on the floor as he lets you guide you to the bed where he lets you do anything you please. And all it takes to make him fall apart is you touching him. Your hands on his burning skin set him on fire, and elicit raspy begs for “more” following calls of your name as his pleading eyes look into yours. 

“You’re so pretty, you know?” You will never get tired of reminding him that when his eyes light up at each compliment. “My pretty boy.” 

“Yeah, yours,” he replies, voice slurred. You’re sure by the end of the night it will be completely hoarse. 

He’s doing everything he can to hold the nth orgasm in. He hates to fail, especially with you. He has to keep it together. But you’re not doing anything to help him. 

You lean over, pressing your arms together, pushing your boobs closer, the soft curves bulging out of your skin-tight top. Jisung wants to die. He needs to touch you, but you don’t let him, not now. It’s your turn to have fun, he’s just a toy in your hands right now, he has to watch and take. But he can’t endure it any longer. 

“You’re making a mess, babe,” you pout, looking between his legs. “I can’t let you come or else you’ll make even worse.” 

“No, no, please, I – I won’t, it’s too much,” he cries out. 

“Okay, then,” you say. You watch his eyes light up, a sigh of relief bolt over his face, just for it to drop as soon as your hand leaves his body. His eyes panic, he doesn’t even dare to look down to confirm your hand is not there anymore. You’ve done it again. 

“No, please,” Jisung whines. This time he can’t hide his annoyance. 

“I thought you wanted my dick,” you say, tilting your head to the side. 

“Yes but,” he almost sobs, “that will make me come as soon as… you know…” he whispers, too shy to say it loud, looking away. 

“Mhh, no, I fear I don’t know.” 

“God, why are you like this?” 

“Excuse me?” You scold. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, but… I, I need to come. You’ve edged me for so long, I will… I will come as soon as you enter me if I don’t, and you won’t let me come that easily.” 

This is not a punishment. So, yes, he has a point. You do have a lot of fun doing this, watching him struggle to keep it together as you fuck into him. However, today is not the day. 

Without adding a word, your hand is back around his dick, moving up and down quickly. The sudden movement makes him gasp and he has to contain himself to don’t squeal in exactment. 

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” he mumbles before the only things coming out of his mouth are moans. His hips buckle against you, desperately chasing the long awaited high. 

“Come on, let go,” you order, and before his brain can even register the sound, he comes undone in your hands. White cum spurts over your hand, arms and his abs, making a mess like predicted, but you don’t stop, milking him until there’s nothing left behind and he has to beg you to stop. 

“Good boy,” you praise, stopping your movements before leaning close. “Calm down, you did great.” Your words make him smile, but he still leans in for a kiss. “You can touch me,” you mumble in the kiss when you notice his hesitating hands lingering close to your body, and you don’t need to repeat yourself. 

Jisung pulls you closer, kneading the skin of your hips, long fingers pressing into your skin. He’s a bit aggressive sometimes without noticing, his eagerness makes him clumsy, but you don’t care, that’s another thing you like about him. 

“Do you still want me to fuck you?” You ask when you pull away, reaching for the bedside table to grab a napkin and clean yourself. 

“Yes, please, I wanted you all day, you’ve been driving me crazy,” he says, getting ready to lay on his back. 

He didn’t lie, you did tease him all day long. You were quite surprised you made it home and didn’t end up doing it in the car. 

His hungry eyes burn on you as you undress and slip in the strap-on. It makes you feel so powerful as you stare down at his bare figure, laying powerless on the mattress. 

“You’re so hot,” Jisung whispers, face catching fire as soon as you look at him and smile. He’s so shy and embarrassed; your favorite type to mess with. 

When your lube-covered fingers slip into his tight hole, his head rolls back as he traps his lower lip between his teeth to not let out pathetic moans. 

“Is this all you need? My fingers?” 

“You’re good,” he stutters. “You’re too good.” 

You grin. You know you are. 

As you get him ready to take your dick, you let your fingers slide deep inside and curl up just as he likes it, slow and nice, to let him feel everything. 

You get drunk in his low moans, muffled by the arm he put on top of his mouth to don’t sound so desperate, and the way his dick is hardening again, slowly throbbing on his defined abs. 

“You think you’re ready for me?” 

Jisung nods enthusiastically. “Yes, I always am. Please, fuck me,” he begs, hands reaching out to touch you. 

“If you say so,” you smile, pulling your fingers out of him, making him groan in disappointment. 

You pour a generous amount of lube on your strap and push it against his entrance. One hand runs under the back of his thigh to pull him closer as the other grabs the base of the dildo to start pushing into him. 

As you slide inside, your eyes don’t leave his. Your heart races as you watch him fight to keep his eyes open (you want him to look at you when you do this) but he succeed, cause he’s just too good. 

“Touch me,” you order when you bottom in. He’s tired, completely consumed by lust, but he listens without wasting a second. His hands cup your boobs, starting to pleasure you as you slowly move out of him. He knows how much you love his hands, and he does all the tricks he knows you love; playing with your nipples, squeezing them, cupping the soft flesh. “Good boy,” you praise. 

But it’s hard to be so good when you pick up a steady rhythm. 

“You’re big,” he cries out as his head rolls back and his lips part to let out louder moans. 

“But you can take me, can’t you?” You tease, but behind your words hides genuine concern. He has this habit of rushing into things because he’s greedy. 

“Yes, yes, I can do anything for you,” he replies, nodding swiftly. 

“Good,” you hum. When you lean closer to kiss him, his hands wrap around your shoulders to pull you closer. His hips roll against you, messily trying to meet you halfway, and before you realize, his legs wrap around your body. 

“Somebody’s more eager than usual today,” you grin, brushing his wet black hair behind. 

“I’m – I’m sorry, I want you so bad.” 

“I’m right here,” you assure, kissing his cheek. “Do you want it harder?” 

Words struggle to come out and the only thing he can do is nod quickly. You straighten your back and then your hands grab his waist to pull him closer to you. The new position allows you to fuck faster into him, the harsh slam of your hips against his soft legs creating the vulgar sounds of skin loudly resonating in the room. 

“Please, please,” he moans, his voice so deep and hoarse it hits you straight to the core. “Wanna come, please, please, I’ll be good.” 

You quirk a brow. “Will you?” 

“Yes,” he nods enthusiastically. “I’ll take another one, I’ll take – I’ll take everything you have to give me, but please, let me come,” he begs. His eyes stare into yours, and your heart skips a bit at his clumped wet lashes, tears are pooled at the corner and you know with this orgasm they will flow like rivers on his cheeks. 

“Fine, you can come,” you say. Your hands clench harder around his waist, causing his skin to redden, but he barely feels it, too concentrated on the pleasure your fast thrusts are giving him. You don’t even need to touch his dick before he comes undone for the second time, shaking uncontrollably in your hands as the cum covers his lower abdomen. 

But this time you don’t slow down when he’s done, your movements are steady and leave him breathless. 

“Fuck,” he screams, fingers desperately reaching for you, and one of your hands intertwines with his fingers. But the soft gesture doesn’t match the ruthlessness of your movements. 

“You’re a mess,” you point out, kissing him. The tears are streaming down his face, his lips are plump from the torture he applied with his teeth, his hair is a mess, and his chest is rising fast. 

“But – but you like me,” he struggles to say, “you still like me, right? Please, tell me —fuck— tell me you still like me.” 

You smile, caressing his burning cheek. “Of course, I do. You’re my beautiful mess, right?” 

“Yes, yeah, I’m yours, I’m yours, I’m only —mmph— only yours,” he mutters. 

“Yeah, mine,” you say, cupping his face before pulling him into a deep, long kiss. 

Jisung’s hands run on your back, his short nails scratch your skin but you don’t mind, instead, you start moving even faster, pushing him close to the edge again. 

“Not again,” he cries, pleading eyes looking up at you. 

“You promised,” you remind him. 

He sniffles, trying to clean up the mess on his face with the palm of his hand but only makes it worse. “But – but it’s too much, I can’t last long– longer.” 

“We better make it quick, then.” 

His eyes light up. “Wa-wait, I can – I can come again?” 

You nod. 

“Ca-can you help – help me?” 

“Nope, no hands, babe. Don’t act like it’s hard for you.” 

“But –” 

Your stern gaze stops him in his tracks, and he simply nods. His eyes widen when you start teasing his nipples, and you both know it’s going to be even easier for him to come this time. And as expected in a few seconds he’s making a mess again. His moans are so messy and loud you’re surprised the neighbor didn’t come knock on your door yet. 

“Fuck, fuck, God,” he cries loudly, hiding his face with the pillow that he’s holding so tight his knuckles are going white. “Please, please, I – I, fuck, fuck.” His words are an incoherent mess, and more and more strings of white lay where the others are dried up by now. “Too much, too much, ma’am, can’t, no more.” 

You slow down while your hands caress his waist to soothe him, but his breathing is still frenetic and mumbles are coming out of his mouth. 

“You did great, you did such a good job,” you whisper, moving the corner of the pillow out of his face, forcing him to let go, and caressing his burning face. “Let me kiss you.” 

After the kiss you slip out of him completely and the emptiness makes him whine loudly. Once you’re out of the strap, you reach him with a glass of water and watch as he gulps it quickly. 

“Color?” You ask. You still haven’t come, and you need it. But he has already done so much you don’t want to push him over the edge. 

He slumps back on the bed, and you’re ready to hear a “red” but he surprises you. “Green, but I – I need just a few seconds to calm down. You’re too – too good at this,” he chuckles, blushing bright red. 

You smile, caressing his face. “You can use your fingers if you’re too stimulated.” 

He shakes his head. “No, I – I want you to feel you, please.” 

You chuckle at how he’s already in that mood again, ready to beg and do anything to make you feel good and make you proud of him. 

“Are you ready?” You ask as you straddle his lap. 

Jisung gulps and then nods, letting his hands rest on your hips. “I just – I can’t promise I’ll last long.” 

“It’s alright. Touch yourself, get yourself hard for me.” 

His right hand leaves your side to wrap around his soft dick, and as soon as his fingers come in contact with his skin he jerks up. He’s so fucking sensitive. And he knows he might’ve flown too close to the sun, but he doesn’t want to back down. 

He rarely gets to be inside of you, and he loves it, especially when he’s so stimulated. Will he turn into a mess in two seconds again? Yes. Does he care? No.

“Go slowly,” you say, watching as his big hand slides up and down his length. His long fingers shake every time he comes close to the sensitive tip and a strangled moan gets trapped in his throat. 

“Do – do you like this? Am I being good for you?” He asks with a shaking voice, eyes desperately seeking your validation. 

You nod. “So good. Just a few more, babe.” 

He hums, swallowing again as he tries to fight himself to not get close to another orgasm. But you’re not cruel, you just need him to get hard again. 

“Enough,” you order, making him stop immediately. His hand goes back on your body and his hard dick throbs against his abs. “Are you ready for me?” 

“Yes, I am, please, fuck me,” Jisung begs, grinding his hips against you. 

You snicker, shaking your head. “So greedy. After everything we did, you still want more.” 

“Yes, I need you. And I – I want you to feel good.” 

You need that too. Seeing him fall apart on your strap got you weak in your knees, and now you need to come. You know you won’t last long either when you’ve been on the edge all night. 

When you slide on top of him, his hips buck up, making you choke on a moan. “Jisung,” you scold. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he apologizes. “Please, use me.” 

And you do. You start to move up and down, feeling him fill you up, reaching so deep inside of you.  

“Touch me,” you order. “You know how I like it.” 

Jisung is lost in his haze, the afterglow of before mixing with the lust of this moment is getting completely in his head and this simple task seems impossible, but he always gives you what you want and ask for. 

So, even if not so quickly, his fingers reach your clit. When he starts rubbing it in swift circles, you see stars, and you know it won’t take long to fall apart. 

“You’re so wet, and feel so – so good,” he cries out. The way you squeeze around him is driving him insane, stimulating him like never before. “I need you, can you – can you kiss me? I won’t – I won’t stop I promise.” 

You don’t reply, and simply lean in to give him what he wants. His movements stop for a brief second but restart shortly after. Your moans blend in the kiss as your hand reaches his hair to tug on it, earning a low grunt from him. 

“You like it when I treat you roughly, don’t you?” You pull away just enough to get a glimpse of his face before tugging again, watching as his lips part to set free an even deeper moan. 

“Ye-yes, you can – you can do whatever you want with me,” he mumbles. 

“I know, honey, I know,” you grin before kissing him again. This time it’s rough and desperate, taking his breath away. 

When you pull away to have more room to move on top of him, your hand places on his chest before running up to reach his neck. Your thumb runs over his neck, caressing his adam’s apple as it bobs in his throat. He reached the limit. He’s holding on to make you feel good but you can see he’s pushing himself for you. There’s nothing in his eyes, just lust and need to release. His moans are loud and incoherent, and his hips pathetically try to meet you halfway. And when your hand wraps around his neck, he loses it. 

“Mhh, please, please,” he starts begging, his words sounding even more embarrassing muffled by your hand restricting the flow of air in his lung. The hand that is not working on you clenches hard around your waist, his nails leaving marks on your skin. “Need you, please.” 

“I’m right here.” 

Jisung cries, shaking his head. “Need you to – to come. Please, come with me. I’m – I’m good, right? You – you are close.” 

“You think so?” You tease. 

And he almost starts sobbing. “Yeah,” he cries in a snarl. “I know I – I make you feel good. I’m good for you, I know I am, please, tell me I’m – I’m your good toy.” 

You’d love to play with him more, but he’s at his breaking point, and even if all of this is playful you can see he’s far too deep in subspace and any degrading word might hit him too close. 

“You are,” you whisper, letting go of his neck to kiss him. “You’re my good boy. And since you’re my good boy —fuck— you will come with me, right?” 

“Yes, yes, I – I will, please, yes, yes,” he replies, reaching for your lips again. 

“Come with me.” 

“Oh, fuck,” he moans. “Thank you, thank you, fuck, thank you so – so much,” he mumbles breathlessly, words mixing with groans and whimpers as both of your orgasm break through. Your movements falter as the pleasure gets to your head and you finally let go of the built-up pressure, but you still ride him until you make sure you’re both done. 

And when you’re sure there’s nothing more to take and give, you collapse on his body. 

“Stay,” Jisung murmurs, wrapping his arms around your back when you try to roll to the side. “Please, stay,” his voice shakes, and a sob rolls from his tongue. 

“Jisung?” You ask worriedly, lifting your head to look at him. 

“I’m fine, I just…” he sniffles, “I… I want to feel you, and…cuddle some more.” 

You smile, letting out a sigh of relief. “Can I at least slip out of you?” 

He nods, and you slowly get off him. “You have cum everywhere, can I clean you up?” 

“No. I mean, yes, but not now, can we… can we just cuddle? I need you.” 

He’s still into his subspace and you won’t pull him out of there. You know he will fall asleep in that mess, but you can take care of that later. 

“Come here, rest your head against my chest,” you say, laying at his side, opening your arms so he can cuddle between them. “Is this alright?” 

“Perfect,” he mutters, nuzzling against your bare chest. “You smell good.” 

“Well, thanks, but I’d say I smell like sex.” 

“Mhh,” he whispers. “Thank you for taking care of me.” 

“It’s nothing, I have fun with you, and I like you.” 

He hums, and then some seconds of silence follow before the loudest thing he can say slips from his lips. “I love you.” 

You still, body stiffening, and look down. “You… what?” 

“I think I love you,” he replies nonchalantly, voice muffled by your chest. 

You can’t find the words to reply and, in your heart, you don’t know. “I don’t… I don’t know how to react. I think you’re confused.” 

You feel him shake his head, and you wonder how conscious he is. 

“I think we should… mhh, maybe talk about this tomorrow,” you say, trying to keep it cool, but you know he can feel your heart beating an abnormal amount inside your rib. 

“Fine,” he whispers, holding you closer. “Just don’t leave.” 

You gulp and look down. And as you watch Jisung’s body relax as he succumbs to sleep; his long lashes sitting on his rosy cheeks, his long hair framing his handsome face, his plump lips slightly parted puffing hair, you think to yourself you’re screwed. 

“Don’t worry, I won’t leave.” 

© neowinestaindress; all rights reserved. do NOT repost, modify, or translate any work from this blog on any other platform and claim it as yours. you can find my works on ao3 (neowinestaindress) and wattpad (winestaintedress_; currently inactive).

[emeritusemeritus]

Ok so I was wondering if you could write a Fred Weasley X sarcastic hufflepuff reader and everyone kinda wonders how shes a hufflepuff because she comes off as bitchy but like she super caring with Fred and he’s like the only one that really sees that side of her

Hi Anon! I have to admit I got a little carried away with this one (what’s new). I started writing just a normal fic but it grew beyond measure because I fell in love with the snarky little Hufflepuff I was writing. I hope you enjoy! 🖤

**Part 2 is is HERE**

**important: I wrote this in mind following a masquerade ball that had already happened within the story to mark the anniversary of Hogwarts. **

Warnings: Unrequited love, idiots in love, friends to lovers all the usual divine tropes. Happy ending I promise. Minor sexual references, 1 mention of masturbation, George fancies Angelina. Slight angst? We have a massive crush on Freddie. Bonus points for anyone who knows where the title is from.

Word count: 3.8k (Oops I did it again)

But who can name the face?

"Nerds," you nod in greeting, a wide grin plastered on your face as you barge through their dorm room door, smirking to the two twins who sit hunched over their creations, trying to perfect a new product. George's nose was almost pressed into the book he was reading and Fred was tinkering with something you couldn't make out, probably an explosive of some sort. You jump onto George's bed, the closest one to you and kick off your shoes.

"Make yourself at home," George snarks, shooting a playful glance to you.

"Thanks Georgie I will," you beam, purposefully ignoring the sarcasm dripping from his words. He rolls his eyes with a smile before focusing back on the page.

"Earth to Fred?" You say, noticing a few moments later that he hadn't greeted you. You frown, hearing nothing back and George shoots a glance to you again before turning to his twin, kicking him swiftly in the shin.

"Git," Fred mutters, rubbing his shin and finally noticing that you were here.

"Hello to you too," you snark, watching as his eyes squint mockingly at you.

"Sorry your ladyship, didn't realise you required my full attention," he snarks, expecting a reaction that he doesn't get.

"Well I do," you nod, your voice and face completely blank until you erupt in a smirk that he mirrors.

"What are you working on?"

"Wait how did you get in here? You're a Hufflepuff!" George gestures to the Gryffindor boys dormitory you're sat in, but your face reveals nothing. Fred knows because of course he does, you've been here more times than you can count but George is usually not here when you sneak in.

"I believe I asked a question first, but if you must know," you lean in towards George, acting as if you were going to reveal an entire catalogue of secrets to him. "I'm a witch."

The deep sigh that George lets out only increases your devilish smile that you share with Fred, widening still when you hear him burst with laughter, the sound of his boisterous laugh filling your body with warmth. He had the most gorgeous laugh and you couldn't help but admire how handsome he looked when he laughed, eyes shining.

"Sodding woman," George mutters under his breath as he picks up the book again, pretending to read. You don't miss the smirk that's threatening to slip from his lips that he's trying so hard to conceal, making you feel a little victorious.

"So back to me, what are you working on?"

"Love potions," Fred says absently, as if it wasn't a big deal.

Your stomach roils dangerously, a sinking feeling settling in your lower tummy as Fred's words.

"Love potions?" You repeat, hardly hiding the frown on your face. You look between the twins but they offer nothing in the way of clues. Fred finally looks up to you again, shrugging slightly as he explains.

"Figured we could start selling them at the shop, break into the girly market. These are just drafts, we realised early on we don't have a bloody clue what we're doing with them."

"Draft draughts?" You joke, squashing down any uneasy feelings you felt. George snorts and Fred chuckles at your words as he nods, enjoying the stupid pun.

"Fancy helping a mate out?" He asks, trying to reel you into helping with whatever he was tinkering with, holding his hand out for you to take. "Could do with your expertise little badger."

You roll your eyes at the nickname but hop off George's bed to grab his hand, letting him lead you over to look at his little experiment, seeing a kind of heart shaped bottle that he was trying to transfigure. You offer to help him transfigure it into more of a heart and somehow manage to tint the glass pink which they both like.

"So why the sudden need to break into the girly market?" You ask, head cocked slightly as you look upon the bottle that you're quite proud of.

"Got love on the brain doesn't he," George says with a laugh, only to duck a moment later when Fred lobs a book at his head.

"What?" You ask, trying to sound neutral but fearing you were failing miserably.

"Met a girl the other night didn't he, hasn't shut up about her since," George adds, clearly unbothered by Fred's reaction as he ducks another flying object thrown by his bemused twin.

"You wouldn't shut up about her if you met her," he grumbles, cheeks filling with a vibrant blush. "Didn't even know girls could be that attractive, she was perfect mate."

"What from the half of her face that you saw?" George snarks, a loud 'ow' echoing through the room as he fails to duck this time.

You don't hear anymore, your heart pounding in your chest and you feel sick almost instantly, the room seeming to spin around you. Fred had met someone at the masquerade ball.

The Masquerade Ball was an extravagant affair marking the one thousandth year of Hogwarts since the founding of the school in 996AD. In honour of the ancient traditions, a masquerade ball had been held which would bring all the students together regardless of their assorted houses. You could be as anonymous as you wished, no need to disclose your house or your name and dates were not permitted in an effort to unite the school free from the usual restrictions that naturally came from house only events. Due to the enchantments upon the school, the masks were implemented to hide your identity for the night with made everything even more magical. You'd had a wonderful night, second only to the Yule ball though you really couldn't compare them.

You remembered now that you hadn't seen Fred all night, not for your lack of trying and now it all makes sense why. You need to get out before the tears really start, your world feeling like it was crumbling around you.

"Sorry, forgot about my potions work," you say quickly, reaching for your shoes and rushing out of the door before either of them could notice your tears.

You barely make it out of Gryffindor tower when your tears begin to stream down your face, lip wobbling as their words echo through your mind. You run to the nearest bathroom, praying that it's empty and rush into a cubicle to allow yourself some privacy in your heartbroken state.

You'd had a crush of Fred Weasley forever. The unlikely pair that you were, the hufflepuff and the Gryffindor brought together by mischief. You'd started falling for him in your second year but managed to keep it quiet, to push it away and keep it hidden in the hopes that it would fade over time... but it didn't. By your fourth year you had a full blown crush and by your fifth you were convinced you loved him. Every summer you wished that upon your return to school that your feelings would have disappeared or at least faded but the second that he'd smile at you, throwing his arm around you in a warm greeting you knew that your hoping was pointless. You'd spent years perfecting your ability to hide your feelings from him, torturing yourself in private to allow you to keep feelings-free around him. You reasoned that it was better to have him in your life as a best friend than to be without him completely and you were fine with that, at least until now. There's never been another girl as far as you remembered. Sure his friendship with Angelina sometimes made you jealous but you were sure that George fancied her and Fred was just trying to rile him up most of the time to get a reaction. But this mystery girl, he'd fallen for him without even knowing her, without even seeing her full face. She's stolen him away from you without a single thought and you didn't even know who she was to hate her.

Once you'd gotten most of your feelings out, you thought of the one thing that had kept you going all week. The irony of the situation wasn't lost on you, but it was different for you.

You'd also met someone at the ball, the masked man with the black hair and robes so entrancing that he'd actually made you forget about Fred entirely for the short time you spent together. He had a magic laugh, magnetic really that made you feel drawn to him even without knowing anything about him. You'd felt connected to him instantly, even as your eyes searched for Fred in the crowd of people but finding nothing. At least now you knew where he was.

You let out a sigh, wiping your last couple of tears with the sleeve of your robe as you took deep breaths to steady yourself. How could you go on from this? The masked man had been your dirty little secret that you'd never intended to go anywhere, as much as he kept sneaking into your mind.

Fred Weasley would never be yours. It was a fact, as excruciating as it was to admit. Someone else had turned his head, not that he was ever really looking at you and all you could do is sit back and watch with thoughts of your mystery man to keep you company.

You managed to avoid Fred and George for the next two days pretty successfully. You weren't as popular as them but you had some good friends in Hufflepuff that you chose to sit with at meal times and stayed within the common room for most of your free time, knowing that Fred and George couldn't find you there.

"Are you coming to dinner?" One of your friends asks, waiting for you in the common room as you finish up the chapter of the book you were reading.

"Yeah sure," you say, placing in your bookmark and casting your book onto the side.

You follow her out of the common room past the barrels into the dark corridor and scream as you're dragged away by two strong figures. You look back to your friend in alarm seeing her mouth a half-hearted 'sorry' and try to fight off your attackers, quickly getting the sense of who was manhandling you.

"Put me down, idiots!" You say struggling against their weirdly strong grasps, not stopping until you were placed onto a bench in the next corridor. You look up and see Fred and George towering over you, their eyes fixed into hard stares as they look at you, Fred with his arms crossed and George with his hands in his pockets, shoulders stiff.

"You've been avoiding us," George accuses, openly saying the words that you knew were true. You can't bring yourself to deny it, or avoid the question, all you can think is how to make an excuse that would explain it all.

"No excuses," Fred says, clearly reading your face. Damn him for knowing you so bloody well.

"I've been busy," you say, lifting an eyebrow at them.

"Yeah, busy avoiding us," Fred says, his lips pursing a little as he looks down at you.

"Busy doing school work," you counter.

"Oh yeah what class?" George asks, though you can tell in his void that he's not falling for it one bit.

"All of them," you say, quickly adding, "you know I get surprisingly little work done when I'm with you two, funny that."

"Yeah nice one, tell it to my mother," Fred says completely deadpan. You sigh, knowing you're not going to get out of this one alive.

"I've just been busy," you say, lowering your barriers a little but keeping that little confession of love stored neatly tucked away where it would never come out no matter how open you were being. "Needed a couple of days to myself... people were starting to think I was a Gryffindor."

Fred's face remains unchanged but you can see the ghost of a smile pulling at George's face.

"It wasn't you, I just had a lot going on," you say with complete honesty, well maybe not complete.

"Needed a couple of days to get my head together, I've been drowning in homework and I'm think I'm failing charms. I honestly just needed a couple of days to sort myself out before they send an owl home and my parents would know how much in disappointing them."

Okay so not a complete lie, but not the complete truth either.

"Why didn't you tell us?" Fred says, his harsh glaze slipping from his face as he crouched down beside the bench you're sat on, his head still inline with yours at his astronomical height. George relaxes in front of you, scooting you across so he can sit on the other side of the bench. You feel awful essentially lying to them, though it was more altered truth but you could face them knowing, especially Fred.

"Embarrassed, mortified, horrified, you choose."

"It's us, you don't need to be embarrassed with us," George says softly. Usually your relationship was filled with vicious banter so seeing him so soft and kind with you was nice if not a little off putting.

"Anyway, now I have you back," Fred says with a smirk blooming on his face.

"We," George adds, shooting a look to his twin.

"Eh? Oh yeah... how come you never told us your common room was down here?! You could have been sneaking us treats this whole time!"

"Would have saved our legs many a trip to the kitchens!"

"Length of your legs it only takes three steps," you quip back to George who smiles widely.

"There she is," Fred says smiling at you. It's a beaming smile, eyes glimmering and it makes your heart burst to know that it's all for you. Fred suddenly stands, holding out his hand for you to take as you hop off the bench but to your surprise he doesn't let go and instead pulls you away, still holding your hand as you walk around the corner to the kitchen corridor, passing the painting of the silver fruit bowl that conceals the entrance to the kitchens.

"See all those times you've apparently come up to our room, could have brought the snacks," george says, bumping your shoulder as he nods to the door as you make your way past it. "All you have to do is," George says, walking in sync and surprisingly saying nothing at his brother's hand in yours.

"If you think I'm going to stop and tickle the pear every time I come to see you," you begin to say, only to be cut off by Fred.

"You can tickle my pair anytime, babe."

"Shove off Weasley," you say with a bite, trying to recover from his words quickly and fight off the blush that threatens your heating cheeks as they laugh amongst themselves.

"Well if you're offering," George says from the other side, to which you side step and hold out your foot, causing him to trip. He catches himself quickly before he falls but it's still pretty funny, as made apparent by yours and Fred's laughter.

"Thought you Hufflepuffs were supposed to be nice!"

"Coming from you?" You counter, sending a frown towards him, able to list off the top of your head a multitude of times he'd pranked someone, caused damage or injury and that was mainly just to yourself.

"She is nice," Fred quickly defends, shooting his brother a dung-eating grin, "to me at least."

You chuckle and carry on walking, watching out for George's revenge.

"Hold up, wait here," Fred suddenly says, coming to an abrupt halt near the main atrium. He grabs your arm to stop you, his hand breaking free from yours as he holds up a finger and runs back down the corridor.

You watch his figure disappear and squeeze your now unoccupied hand, your body already missing his touch. Truthfully the past few days had been torture being away from them, namely Fred, but it was necessary to contain the feelings that has threatened to burst out of you like a broken remembrall.

Suddenly there's a gasp to your side and you spin around quickly on your heel to face George, who is looking at you with wide eyes and a Zouwu like grin etched upon his face. You frown in confusion, not knowing what he's looking at until your entire body fills with dread with his next words.

"You're in love with him!"

You panic, not knowing what to do with the information. You can hardly deny it, it would be impossible to hide from George now he knew and you're certain that your reaction has given you away, so you go to the next default setting: threats.

"One word comes out of your mouth to anyone and I'll tell Angelina that I walked in on you wanking over her!"

George faces pales for a second before his cheeks heat up with a vivid red blush that spreads the full length of his face.

"But that didn't."

"Your old friend... Angelina Johnson... the Qudditch team captain," you say, ignoring his looks as you tilt your voice to sound more and more disgusted at his behaviour with every passing word.

"What? You can't."

"Naked on a broom, George Weasley! Could you be any more depraved?"

"Alright fine!" He says, holding his hands up in surrender, not wanting to push you further and find out that you weren't bluffing.

"I won't say anything to Fred," he promises, looking genuine in his agreement.

It's awkward now, the silence that follows as you come to terms that George is in on your secret now.

You don't look at him any longer, instead fixing your gaze to the stone floor as you consider the implications. Had you looked at George, you'd have noticed him battling with himself, fighting over what to say next. It wasn't his secret to tell, he shouldn't even be considering breaking him twin's confidence but the look on your face right now was enough to break whatever morality he had.

"You know... he's," George begins to say, your gaze drifting up towards him as you look into his eyes, expecting laughter or mocking but finding none.

"He's what?" You ask, confused about his sudden stop, eyes widening.

"He's coming."

"I was only gone for a minute, you two haven't fallen out already have you?" Fred jokes, his pockets clearly stuffed with treats that he'd acquired from the kitchens.

"No," you and George say at precisely the same time. So much for not looking suspicious. Fred trots off ahead urging you both to follow and you do so willingly and silently, hardly trusting yourself to speak in that moment as you feel George's eyes on you.

"Everything alright with y/n earlier? She seemed upset when I got back. Are you sure you didn't say anything to her?" Fred asks, taking off his tie and his school shirt as he undresses for bed, calling to George who's doing the same on the other side of the room.

"I didn't say anything mate," George says, "reckon you're thinking about her too much."

"Just being a friend," Fred says, perhaps a little too quickly.

"Well between 'being a friend' to y/n and your mystery woman, you certainly are doing a lot of thinking... reckon if you ignore one of them you might finally figure out that love potion," George says grinning as he climbs into bed.

"Shove off," Fred says, climbing into his own bed and pulling the curtain across with a harsh shove. He lays in bed unsettled for what seems like hours, his mind spinning between his friend and his mystery woman, realising with a sad conclusion that he'd gotten absolutely nowhere with either one of them.

♡

Fred Weasley was certain that his eyes had never been blessed enough to look upon something so captivating, so enchanting that it made his mouth dry. There was a sea of people around dressed in their fanciest clothes, an opulent symphony of colour and glitter, yet she stood out amongst the crowd like a singular lighthouse in a vast, dark ocean.

He was enthralled by the way her dress moved, clinging perfectly to her figure, highlighting the delicate curves and lines of her body whilst staying modest. It was arousing, the way her dress offered so much but showed so little, Fred's imagination running wild of what lay underneath.

She was beautiful, the most beautiful woman Fred had even laid eyes upon, he was certain. Her dress shining under the twinkling lights, her seductive smile and those eyes that seemed to twinkle all on their own even without the glistening reflection of the lights above her.

He was certain that he was the luckiest bloke in the room; that every other male was envious of the way his hand was wrapped tightly around her waist. But he didn't care what anyone thought or of their jealousy in the moment, he just couldn't believe his luck. They were pulled together as if my an invisible string, finding each other quickly as the music played around them, the soft lights acting like a runway between them both, eyes connecting almost immediately.

"Are you going to tell me your name?" He asks with a smirk, losing himself in her eyes as they seem to glimmer even more at his words.

"I don't think that's how masquerade balls work," she says with a laugh, earning a chuckle from him.

"What about your house?" He follows up, needing to know something about her even if it's tangible evidence.

The smile she flashes him makes him almost dizzy, sparkling eyes peering up at him from beneath her mask.

"Only if you can guess it," she counters, leading him down a dark path of guessing who she might be.

"Sorry I think you've hit your limit on questions," she says as the song changes. "Perhaps I could ask you some?"

"You can ask me anything... except my name," he smirks from under his mask, his tongue peeking out to wet his lips briefly under your gaze.

"Are you single?"

His laughter is contagious and she finds herself chuckling along with him as his hand at her waist squeezes her tighter momentarily for her cheekiness.

"Definitely," he replies softly, though he can't help but feel a little stab at the thought of his best friend, wishing for years that he could say that he wasn't single in the slightest.

♡

Fred wakes with a start, confused for a moment as to his whereabouts having jumped so quickly from his dream to reality. He was back there again, his mind so fixed on his mystery woman that every dream was a recollection of that night, though this time he was certain that there was something different. Had his mystery date always sounded so much like y/n?

Part 2 anyone?

[v3nusxsky]

Can you please do write dom! Emily finds out that sub!reader gets turned on when Emily gets bossy and Emily's uses it to her advantage to fuck reader senseless in Emily's office.

So bossy…. I like it 18+

*Authors note~ another break from sinful souls to bring you Emily prentiss. I’m not sure how I feel about this one :( I’m going to take this opportunity to wish my lovely girlfriend @just-your-casual-nerd a very happy one year anniversary ♥️criminal minds (and our love for incredibly talented beautiful attractive women such as prentiss JJ and Larissa Weems ) brought us together and I’ve never been more grateful for anything in my life. I love you*

Trigger warnings~ sub r mommy dom! Emily strap warming, praise kink overstimulation for reader, oral on strap em loves Rs boobs more than life office sex, bossy Emily sort of free use reader oral fixation mentions

Prompt~ see ask^^^^

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Your wife becoming the chief of the BAU was certainly an achievement, one you are incredibly proud of her for, but litre did you know, the change in job would do more than add to her pay packet. Being an assistant of Penelope Garcia is how you met your wife, at first you thought Emily Prentiss hated you, but after some time with JJ and Garcia convincing you to join them on girls night, you soon found out that was not the case. She wanted you, too much, and that scared the raven haired profiler. Now her wife, you can look back and laugh at how awkward you both were dancing around the attraction.

The power that woman holds not only as your wife, your dominant but now your boss too, turns out it’s a massive turn on for you. Seeing the way she commands the room had you soaking your panties embarrassingly quickly. It happened so much these days you just always packed a few pairs spare for the work day. It wasn’t your fault, she’s incredibly sexy. But you were growing tired of finding excuses to tell Garcia about why you are always running to the ladies room. But your wife, she had caught on to your extra items in your work bag, the way your pupils would dilate at team meetings and even the slight heat that would cover your cheeks and the tops of your breasts every time she was more stern. Dominance clearly did it for you no matter the context, something she could use to her advantage.

To say you and Em experiment in the bedroom would be putting it lightly, you are both kinky people with needs after all. One of your wife’s kinks happened to be free use, something you turned out to love, this kink being relatively new for you, it hadn’t came into play outside the house. Until today. Being called to her office was a usual occurrence, sometimes genuinely needing your skills, others a lunch date and even on occasions comfort after a rough meeting or case.

“Honey?” You murmured quietly as you entered her office, closing the door behind you. “Lock it” came the first demand, her stern tone sending a wave of arousal straight to your stomach, causing you to jump into action and obey. “Good girl, here now” she demanded in her authoritative tone, loving how you instantly seemed to slip into your submissive state. “Mommy?” You mumbled shyly, avoiding eye contact with her and awaited the next command.

A verbal command never came, she knew you’d safe word If you felt the need to, her strong hand came to push down on your shoulders causing you to kneel in front of the woman. “Under the desk bunny, mommy needs to use that pretty mouth of yours” the raven haired chief murmured to you, a smirk plastering itself on her lips at your enthusiastic gasp. Of course it took some effort to get in the right position, Emily utilising your distracted state to lose her trousers and free a girthy looking six inch dildo that was now strapped to her hips. Where had she hidden that this morning?

“Em” you started only be cut off by your wife, “poor girl, being all turned on at work, good job mommy noticed and can now finally put your skills to use hmm?” It sounded like a question, but you knew it wasn’t, being good for Emily meant waiting for permission to speak. Something you haven’t been given. “Now bunny, you will be my good girl and let mommy fuck your pretty mouth and then maybe I’ll take pitty on you and sort out your messy cunt” the raven haired woman commanded as she settled back in her chair allowing you access to her shaft while remaining hidden from any potential praying eyes.

Aches radiated their way through your cramped body, limbs fallen asleep as you remained pliant for your mommy. God knows how long she’d been lazily fucking your throat but it was starting to become raw with every deep thrust of her hips. Only when Emily decided she was satisfied with how far down into your submissive haze you were did she pull back smirking at your glazed over eyes and a string of spit that attached to the head of her cock and your now swollen mouth. “Oh good girl” she murmured appreciatively as she lent down to rip open your shirt, “god your beautiful baby girl, so good for me. So pretty.”

Her words seemed to muffle as you allowed her to pull you up from the desk shredding your poor excuse for tights and lace underwear exposing your cunt. The heat radiating from your core had your wife moaning happily and you gasping as the cold air hit your sensitive slit. “Mommy” you whined as you subconsciously tried to find the friction your body craved. “Shush sweet girl, I know, mommy knows. Precious bunny, you’re soaked. Warming mommys cock should be no problem right?” Her murmurs seeming to not register as she manipulated your body to the exact position she desired.

Straddling Emily Prentiss’s lap, her faux dick nestled tightly between your sopping walls, head nuzzled into her neck and breasts on full display was definitely not how you expected when you walked in here. Not that you were complaining. No. You were far too down in your subby haze to even care where you are. The only thought on your mind being to please mommy. It doesn’t matter if you cum you just want mommy satisfied. It’s one of the many things Emily adores about you.

Quite truthfully, it was a slow paperwork day in the bureau which allowed for her plan to unfold. Having you on her lap, soaking your thighs as well as hers, desperate to keep your moans quiet and not expose your situation was definitely a way to make the day more pleasant. “Pretty bunny and such a good cock warmer too. Sit up bun, mommy wants to look at these perfect tits” the way her words seem to reek of dominance caused you to whimper as you sat up. “Oh, mommy’s favourite white lace bra today hmm? Gods bunny you’re so perfect for me. Prettiest thing for mommy to use.”

Less than thirty minutes in, you were rocking your hips into hers, lips lazily sucking on the junction between her neck and shoulder. Needy. You’d definitely marked your mommy, not that she minded at all, but getting you off was not the main purpose of this. A slap the tops of your breasts seemed to halt any movement, “behave bunny, mommys working now.” If you were more coherent you wouldn’t protested, but your body is beginning to lose the fight against exhaustion and need. “Please mommy, so sticky! Please help me mommy. I need you to.” You whimpered pathetically causing the other woman to grab your hair into a make shift ponytail before yanking you off the faux cock and throwing you over her desk.

“Just couldn’t behave and wait could you? Never seem to follow mommys orders so I guess you need a lesson. I don’t want to hear a peep out of you unless it’s checking in or safewords. Do you understand little girl” she practically snarled at you while teasing your messy cunt with the soaked strap. A hard smack to the globes of your arse remind you that you hadn’t replied. “I understand” you mumbled guilt soaking the words, you’d failed to make mommy happy, “I’m sorry.”

You couldn’t help the squeak of protest as you felt her enter your red puffy pussy, with how oversensitive your poor abused hole was feeling you knew staying quiet would be extremely difficult. “Shut up and take what mommy gives you. My own personal bunny to fuck whenever I want. However I want.” She grunted in between harsh thrusts of her hips, causing your body to slam into her desk repeatedly. You’d definitely have bruises.

As predicted with her spewing words in between her thrusts you were struggling to keep quiet, frantically searching through bleary eyes for something to put in your mouth. Obviously the profiler part of your wife noticed and ever so kindly lent over your body to shove her fingers into your awaiting mouth. “Pretty girl just needs to suckle on mommys fingers hmm? God I love your pretty pussy baby. Mommy loves you so much baby girl” she groaned as she came again causing you to also come with her. You’d be lying if you said you kept track of how many orgasms she’d given you over the table as well as warming her strap before she finally gentled pulled out and started aftercare.

The strap now hidden in her draw she yanked the blanket off the back of her chair, gently settled you In the chair before unlocking the door and setting you on her lap. Instantly your body turned to snuggle into the older woman, blanket wrapped around you causing you to sigh contentedly. “So good for me sweet girl, rest my love, I’m right here then we will go clean up and head home to have a nice bath hmm?” She whispered before trailing off to hum the same tune she did when your nightmares plagued your sleep. You drifted off to your slumber in the arms of the woman you love, safe and content and throughly satisfied.

Word count~ 1970

[ghostgirl-22]

Somehow the conversation coming up that art doesnt know what he likes or knowing his own body because he always did what he was supposed to and no girl has felt the need or want to touch him because "hes the man and shouldnt need all that" "guys take care of the girl not the other way around" iykwim so patrick decides to help him figure it all out

How much pressure he likes, how wet he likes it, if he like gentle or nipping, gripping or biting.. where his erogenous zones are... kissing the sensitive parts of his inner thighs, what roles he likes to take, how he likes to be spoken to...?

U can ignore this part but Maybe pat asks "You never even tried doing it yourself? Like taken your time and see where your hands go?"

art says how would i be able to figure it out when i dont know where to start or what to do. Pat understands there probably a repression aspect to it aswell aand so they discover art together with pat guiding him through this new world/exploration

Omg! Your ask is literally ten times better than what I wrote but I love you for letting me try it dear nonnie <3

CW: 18+ !NSFW! Explicit

Basically this is just yearning and longing and porn with the thinnest of plots. So Artrick core.

——

It all comes out over holiday break. Art is staying with Patrick, it’s a few days after Christmas and Art’s parents are already busy with fundraisers and meetings. To them it doesn’t matter how Art gets back to Stanford, as long as he gets back so they could care less that Patrick keeps him for a few days.

They’re up too late. Patrick is lying on the floor with his laptop, looking up the scheduled matches for this season and who he’ll likely be playing. Art has taken over his bed, flipping channels on the television, going back and forth between American Pie on TBS and ESPN. Patrick is certain the sex conversation starts because they’re watching American Pie but what starts out as Art trying to get more information about Patrick’s sex life with Tashi leads to Art admitting he’s never really explored what he likes in bed.

“What do you even mean, explore?” Art asks, suddenly self conscious. He’s such a little perfectionist, checked off all the boxes, straight As, Ivy League college, division one tennis player, first girlfriend at the “right” age, lost it (many times) before high school finished. Patrick can tell it’s frustrating him to feel like he missed something. “Do you mean… touching myself?”

That’s really all it takes to divert Patrick’s attention. He shuts his laptop and sits up, gazing at Art. “Yeah jerking off is one part,” Patrick says, “But I meant what do you like?”

“I like having sex,” Art shrugs, “it’s simple. What else is there to explore?”

“Oh come on,” Patrick smirks. “It’s anything but simple. Do you even know your favorite position?”

Art rubs his arm, its so obvious he’s never even thought about it. “I don’t really… I mean um… I like… you know… the usual way.”

“Yeah that checks out,” Patrick says teasingly and Art’s gaze darkens.

”Why? How do you fuck Tashi?”

Patrick grins because he knew it was coming. “Nice try.”

Art huffs an irritated sigh. “Whatever man. Just because I’m not trying every position or whatever. I mean what difference does it make? She still…everybody still leaves happy.” Art picks up the remote and switches channels again like he’s done with the conversation but his skin is starting to flush.

He’s so easy. Patrick decides to push a little more. He shoves Art’s legs over and settles next to him on the full sized bed. Art just sits up, crossing his legs, he rests back on his palms.

Maybe it’s because Patrick helped him with his first sexual experience or maybe it’s because he has some kind of corruption kink but he loves whenever their relationship shifts back around to this show-me-how dynamic.

Art is so good at walking this line of self delusion that he’s this perfectly good straight boy… but when he needs something from Patrick. Usually experience. That’s when the lines start to blur. It’s a fucking mess but that’s exactly where Patrick lives.

“Look dude it’s not even about that.” Patrick continues. “It’s about… you remember when we were kids. You were so scared you’d suck at kissing so I—”

“Yeah I was a dumb kid,” Art interrupts quickly.

“Sure but you practiced…” Patrick points out. “And you’re a really good kisser now,” he says, smirking. Art looks away.

Patrick sighs. “I’m just saying if you play around… and learn what you really like. Sex can be really, really fucking good. Besides that’s half the fun of it anyway, right?”

Art chews his bottom lip and then he sighs. “It’s just… I mean I’m a guy… I thought I was supposed to look things up. I didn’t want to look like I didn’t know what I was doing.”

“What did you look up?”

“I don’t know, how to put on a condom? Only the first time. And like there was this article about unhooking different types of bra straps. Shut up,” he adds, shoving Patrick gently because he can’t help laughing at that.

“Okay how about this?” Patrick says, the ghost of a smile still on his lips. He leans back against the headboard, “Do you like it slow? Or do you prefer going fast?”

”Both,” Art says. “I like whatever she likes to do.”

“You don’t have a preference? What about when you’re touching yourself?”

Art plays with his tongue, rolls it back and forth in his mouth as he’s thinking. “Slower.” He says after a while. “Like… when I get the chance I like it…” He glances at Patrick and then looks determinedly back at the tv. “Slower.”

Patrick takes a breath and tries to slow himself down too but he can already feel his cock starting to fill up. “Okay what about touch? What makes you feel good? What gets you up?”

Art frowns. “I um… I don’t—- what about you? Where do you—” he sighs and then shakes his head. “Patrick, this is ridiculous.”

“No it isn’t, what’s ridiculous is you really don’t know what you like.”

Art is gripping the remote too tightly. “I know what I like,” he says.

“What?” Patrick gazes at him.

“Lots of stuff,” Art says.

“Like?”

Art rubs his thighs, Patrick looks down, following the anxious movement.

“I know something you like,” Patrick says after Art doesn’t say anything for a minute. “You want me to show you?”

Art starts playing with his tongue again, he takes a deep breath and nods and Patrick sits up so he’s close.

“You like it when someone kisses you here,” he brushes his knuckles along the junction between Art’s neck and collar bone and he shivers, pulling his shoulder up towards his ear. Patrick considers going in for the kiss but getting Art in a headspace is a delicate thing. It can lead everywhere and nowhere depending on how Patrick handles him.

And he knows Art… fuck… apparently he knows things about Art’s body that he’s not even aware of. This messy little “friendship” is gonna drive him crazy.

“Can I—“ Patrick lets his fingertips settle along the nape of Art’s neck where his curly hair is fine and baby soft. Art closes his eyes momentarily and takes a little breath.

”You like that too,” Patrick says.

“Yeah,” Art says softly.

Patrick licks his bottom lip to keep himself from licking at the flush on Art’s throat. “Do you like being on top? Or on the bottom?” Patrick asks, carefully.

Art opens his eyes and bites his lip again before taking a deep breath. “I think I prefer it when she… when she’s on top.”

“What do you like about it?”

“I don’t know… it’s hot. I mean…” he looks at Patrick. “I like looking at her tits when she….” He looks down shyly. Such a stupidly, pretty boy.

Patrick smirks. “So you're a boob guy.”

“So are you,” Art says, like he’s been caught doing something bad and doesn’t want to be the only one to get in trouble.

Patrick shrugs. “I love everything. I’m more of an ass man. But if you want to kill me show me a great pair of legs… I mean… fuck.”

Art rubs his thighs again. “I really like Tashi’s legs.”

“I bet you do,” Patrick smirks, leaning in. “What about you? You ever let her touch your chest?” He teases his fingers over Art’s t-shirt where his pecs are. Art gasps lightly as Patrick pinches just the right spot and the nipple starts to harden immediately. Patrick circles it lightly and Art shifts on the bed, pressing one hand into his lap and pushing Patrick away with the other. “Fuck no. That’s weird right?” Art asks, his voice a little pitchy.

God he fucking loves it. Patrick wants to push him down on the bed. But he sits on his hands to make himself behave. “What’s weird about it?” Patrick asks.

“I mean… I’m a guy. Why would she want to touch my… my nipples.” Art huffs a nervous little laugh.

“To make you feel good,” Patrick says softly.

Art licks his lips idly and lets out another breath.

“What about grip… do you like it soft?” Patrick asks.

Art nods. “Yeah.”

“This?” Patrick grips his wrist gently. “Or this?” He asks gripping a little tighter. “Or?” He grips tighter still, until Art squeezes his eyes shut.

“The… the middle… the second one.”

“Just right,” Patrick lets up on his grip. “What about here?” Patrick trails his fingertips…slowly… down Arts tummy.

“Stop,” Art breathes as Patrick’s fingers reach the elastic of his boxers.

Patrick shrugs, letting go of the elastic and smirking. He could do this all night. Touch and poke and prod and feel. He knows it’s turning Art on. He’s flushed so fucking beautifully, worrying his lips all red, squirming on the mattress.

“What about…” Patrick sits up on his knees and plays his fingers into Art's hair. Art looks up at him eagerly. Eyes fully dilated, lips parted, breathing shallow.

God.

Such a fucking pretty, pretty boy.

All Patrick wants now is whatever the fuck he can get away with. “Can I kiss you soft?” He asks as he presses his lips to Art’s mouth. Art nods and opens up, sliding his tongue into Patrick’s mouth right away, wanting it. Even though they’d only ever kissed a handful of times, ever since the first time their lips touched Patrick could tell that for Art kissing would be a Thing with a capital T. Patrick caresses the side of Art’s throat and feels it as he shivers. He listens to the way Art’s breathing. So aware of how Art’s body is moving. He’s opening up, he’s uncrossed his legs, knees pulled up, he’s grabbing at Patrick’s t-shirt trying to pull him closer as Patrick starts to deepen the kiss. Pressing his tongue more firmly into Art’s mouth. Art really likes that. He starts gasping, nibbling on Patrick’s lip before pushing his own tongue back in. When he starts moaning Patrick pulls back. His heart is railing against his ribcage and he’s losing himself. His hips are pressed in between Art’s legs feeling everything. Certain Art is feeling everything.

”Fuuckk,” Patrick breathes. He flops onto the bed resting his head on his pillow. If he were with Tashi right now he’d probably be halfway inside her already. Everything with her is impatient, horny and desperate. Everything with Art is pleading, anxious and pretending he doesn’t want it as badly as he fucking does.

Art is breathless, lips kiss swollen, he scoots back to get distance. “This is… so…”

“You like dirty talk?” Patrick interrupts.

Art smiles a bit and shrugs. “Kinda.”

“What’s kinda?” Patrick asks.

Art kicks his legs, lightly. “I like… I like when she tells me how she can’t wait for me to fuck her…”

Patrick sits up on his elbows. “Like I’m so wet for you baby, can’t wait to feel that big dick inside me?” Patrick says softly.

”Jesus Patrick,” Art says, covering his face.

“What?” Patrick says, smiling slightly at the reaction.

“You don’t have to say it like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you're wet,” Art whispers.

“So what do you want me to say?” Patrick says, he gets up again, abruptly crawling back into Art’s personal space. Art reacts at the sudden movement by opening his mouth… Patrick can see his little pink tongue, desperate for another kiss.

Art is gazing at him, pupils so large the rings of blue are barely visible. They’re so close, their lips are almost touching when Art licks his mouth. A horny little mess, if Patrick tried it now he thinks Art might let him fuck.

Patrick smiles and then leans against Art’s ear. “Can’t wait till you fill me up and fuck me good baby…” he murmurs softly.

“Yeah,” Art says quietly. “I can fuck you good.”

Patrick thinks he’s gonna go insane.

Art’s breathing starts to pick up again.

“Can you fill me up and stretch me… fuck me so hard I can feel you for days…” Patrick whispers.

“Mmhm,” Art hums eagerly, he starts lapping and sucking along Patrick’s throat, it’s so fucking yummy.

Patrick rubs his hand lightly along the inside of Arts thigh, trying to graze his knuckles along Arts cock. Art hitches another breath.

“That feel good?” Patrick asks gently.

“Yeah,” Art says breathlessly.

“You like it when she goes down on you before you fuck her?” Patrick asks.

“Yes, mm, yes,” Art says eagerly, shifting on the bed so Patrick can get between his legs. It’s so slutty the way he opens up so quickly, knowing what Patrick wants to do. Patrick presses a kiss along the inside of his upper thigh.

“Mm,” Art whines, and Patrick’s sure he’s just found another sensitive spot. He kisses it again, this time sucking at the skin there and Art moans properly. Patrick grins and starts palming him through his shorts. His own cock feels so fucking heavy. He’s thought about fucking Art since the first time he watched him nut all over himself but right now he feels like he’ll die if he doesn’t get this.

“You gotta tell me how you want it to feel,” Patrick says looking up at him. “Can you talk me through it?”

“What if your… what if we get caught?” Art whispers.

“Everyone is asleep by now I promise,” Patrick says.

”Are you sure?”

“Fucking yes.” Patrick says impatiently, though if he’s honest he wouldn’t give a fuck at this point if they were all right outside his bedroom door. He can’t help himself, he tugs Art’s shorts down to see it.

He’s still barely got any hair there and he’s definitely still blonde everywhere. He’s so hard, his cock is so pretty and pink and full to the tip, pearls of cum dripping. Patrick laps it up and Art hisses.

“Talk to me,” Patrick whispers. “You like it wet?”

“Fuck,” Art breathes. “I mean yes. Yeah I want it wet. Oh god.”

Patrick fills his mouth.

“Oh— oh— fuck—-“ Art groans, he’s so loud. His hips stutter but Patrick holds him down, swirls his tongue around, doesn’t swallow anything, just drools all over it. Arts toeing the bed, trying to push up. “Mm fuck your tongue can you… can you do it faster…” Art moans. So Patrick moves his tongue faster.

He doesn’t ask, maybe because he’s too far gone but he teases his fingertips up along Art’s entrance and the sounds that Art makes in response, make Patrick shiver.

“Patrick,” Art gasps, his body is practically vibrating. Patrick presses his fingers in a little deeper and he moans like the boys do when Patrick’s on those websites in the middle of the night with the volume down low. But Art can’t be quiet… and Patrick doesn’t want him to stop.

“Patrick! Patrick I can’t—- I think I’m gonna—I’m gonna fucking cum— holy shit—“ Art wasn’t even done saying Patrick’s name when Patrick’s mouth started filling up. And boy does it fucking fill up. Patrick’s swallowing, and swallowing and swallowing. He’s so greedy he doesn’t want to waste a single drop of it. Art is whining breathlessly when Patrick finally lets it drop from his mouth, still so shiny and red and wet, twitching helplessly. Patrick just stares at it, dizzy for a minute before he drops onto the bed next to Art and reaches between his legs and starts touching himself.

Art sighs and pulls his shorts up properly before rolling over. He puts his hand where Patrick’s is and starts helping. “What about you? Art asks softly. “What do you like?”

A/N: Sorry this took hundreds of years my love. I wanted to do better but unfortunately got lots to catch up on so it shall be good enough <3

[bunnis-monsters]

thinking bout a needy little fairy who's the size of your palm.. He wants to be able to please you so bad, to fuck you on his cock but he's just way too small to do so, it almost beings him to tears.... poor baby

And he’s just so frustrated! He wants to satisfy you, but usually all he’s can do is lick and suck on your clit and nipples…

If only he could stretch you out on his cock, push his tip against your cervix and make you scream his name…

But for now he’s only able to shove his arm into your cunt, trying his best to make you feel good!

He gets so overstimulated when you hold him in your palm, your tongue wrapped around his little cock as he cries and begs for you to give him a break. He’s been cumming every few minutes for an hour now, and his tip was red from abuse.

But to you, it was only a few drops on your tongue worth of cum, and you promised to milk him dry.

He flutters his wings, sniffling shyly as he watches you play with his cock and tease him. You’re just so mean, making him cum until he passes out!

That’s why when he does end up getting a growth potion he gets his revenge and fucks you until you can’t think straight. At least, that’s what he wants to do…