#any!reader

[hyuneskkami]

✮⋆˙ 𝐅𝐋𝐘 𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐇. 𝐈𝐈

⤷ hq boys x any!reader . . . pt. 2

masterlist

part 1 part 2

⊹ ࣪ ˖ fandom | haikyū!!

✧˖°. includes | shoyou hinata x reader headcannons, overall cuteness, fluff, established relationship, basically just hinata and reader having a happy week <3

⊹ ࣪ ˖ key | y/n: your name

✧˖°. in which | cutie patootie hinata is guaranteed a minute of volleyball with reader for every question he gets right, hinata being taught english by reader.

⊹ ࣪ ˖ a/n | my fav cutie baby of hq!!!! i’ve been so unmotivated this month, but mori’s tsukki hcs got to me, and now i’m writing for a bit again <33 everyone, say thanks to mori! and!! tysm to mori for helping me out with this fic + giving me most of the ideas I included <3

“sho, come on! it’s easy to understand if you really want to.”

he keeps grumbling about it, as you try and teach him.

“easy for you to say, your volleyball future isn’t depending on one test,” he frowns.

you chuckle, and give him a kiss on his cheek.

he usually settles down for a maximum of five minutes, before getting up to stretch or walk around. attention span? he’s never heard of those words before.

you randomly catch him staring at you, when you’re trying to teach him something.

“okay, what’s the answer to 9 then, since you’ve been paying so much attention?”

he snaps out of his reverie and scratches his head and squints his eyes at the paper, concentrating hard on the question.

“Is it ‘I would like some water?’”

and the second you tell him he answered a question correct, he slowly begins drifting off topic.

“mm, you know how they had no water in the hunger games? must’ve been hard.”

and then he yaps about the hunger games books for the next two hours, and you let him.

no matter how much you talk, he definitely does still study and loves that you’re there to encourage him and keep him on track!

he knows you, and he knows that you’re always going to be there to help him.

you promise him that for every question he gets right (which he makes a note of, by the way), he’ll earn a minute of volleyball-playing with you.

you’re a very good setter, but since there’s no girls club for volleyball, you don’t play at school.

a few days later, he gets a B on his english test!

he runs to your class during the next break (which is right beside his), and as you’re walking out, he tackles you with a hug.

“I got a B!”

“baby, that’s amazing!”

and to celebrate, you go to ukai’s shop to buy some of your favourite snacks. you head over to one of your houses and binge watch cheesy romcoms of both of your choices, and finish up all your snacks and drinks.

you end the night with cuddles on the couch, obviously <3

✰ hq taglist | @anyas-shitposting69 @serendipitous-girl @iheartgirlzn @fizzywashere87

kozumesphone © 2024 | don’t repost my works onto other platforms, or edit and post them even on tumblr, without asking me first • don’t steal my works, steal my heart instead • reblogs and comments are more than appreciated !

[arsensonfire]

Wedding Bells 🕊️ A Trevor Phillips Fanfic

｡ﾟﾟ･｡･ﾟﾟ｡

ﾟ。 𝒘𝒆𝒅𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒃𝒆𝒍𝒍𝒔

　ﾟ･｡･ 𝘢 𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘷𝘰𝘳 𝘱𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘱𝘴 𝘧𝘢𝘯𝘧𝘪𝘤

🤍 🕊️🖇️ any!reader x fluffy!trev

🤍 🕊️🖇️ no major TW (kinda horny lol)

No one thought they would see the day—-After months of seeing each other and spending time together, Trevor had finally done it. He proposed to you. It was a grueling process (Mikey and Franklin usually having to hear long rants about how badly he wanted to commit and he should finally just pop the question), but when the answer came it was no less than a ‘Fuck Yeah!’

Many days had passed of planning and discussing details—finding exactly what theme and colors you both wanted—It was really exciting going to different stores and watching Trevor try on different suits. You both decided on a pink wedding. There would be no fancy reception or anything like that (Trev had made it clear that it was the D train to pound town right after) but there was a nice venue by the beach that you picked.

It was happening, and the days that followed felt surreal as you clung to your fiance—fiance, it was fun to say and you used it as often as you could. Correcting those that didn't get the news, correcting yourself and when the day of the wedding finally turned up, it was like a dream.

You stumbled back in from your no-longer-not-married party at around 12am and found yourself crashed on the couch of your apartment around noon. Dehydrated but excited, you walked and stretched in your early state of wakefulness and opened to door too your bedroom, expecting to see a sleeping Trevor. Once the door finally opened, The bed laid empty with messy sheets.

Confused and starting to panic, you lightly sprinted back to the couch and fumbled for your phone. After finding it, you dialed Trevor. Getting no answer after calling and calling, you finally rang Michael, who picked up. Having no idea what to think, Michael answered.

“Hey, (Y/N), I, uhhh-... I got some bad news…”

His voice sounded more fearful than dooming. You took a deep sigh as frustration fell on you suddenly. It occurred to you what was going on instantly.

“Did you guys do a fucking Hangover?!” Irritation evident in your voice, Michael started defending himself immediately.

“Of course not! We just got fucked up and now we can't find … oh shit, that is a hangover. Fuck! Yeah we did a Hangover…”

Now pinching the bridge of you're nose, you heard Franklin's voice jump on the line. Reassurance washed over you, as you felt like you were about to hear something reasonable. “Look, (y/n) We’re sorry but we're still looking for him. We guarantee he'll be there by the start of the wedding.”

“Oh, God, I can't believe you guys are doing a Hangover to me- Fine! Okay, just make sure he's all in one piece please. Thank you.” With a click, you signed deeply and started getting ready yourself.

Within the span of four hours, guests and family pulled into their seats. It was small but Wade and Ron were there, even in actual formal attire!

You stood at the altar, looking out past the venue entry way as you grew more anxious than angry. A pair of headlights pulled into view and shut off once parked in the lot nearby. Watching closely, you saw a well dressed Michael and Franklin jumped out to retrieve a battered and bruised Trevor from the back.

Out of excitement and shock, you grabbed the arm of the officiant (Elvis, upon Trevor's request) and let go to rush to your soon-to-be-husbands side. “Trev, baby,” You cooed, getting a closer look at his injuries; minor cuts and littered small bruises but you were concerned no less.

“You look beautiful,” Trevor spoke seductively, pulling you closer by the waist to plant a long and deep kiss on you. The two of his friends both beside him, both looked away awkwardly until you both were done.

Taking you by the hand to lead you away and back to the altar, the rest of the wedding carried on with Elvis doing his best funky interpretation of the Officiant Script. During which, Trevor even shed a few tears.

With about as much if not more partying, he kissed you again, this time firmly squeezing your ass while he did it. You held his face and leaned into it, the small crowd writing in cheers and yelps of happiness.

“Now,” Trevor started, lifting you up in both arms. “Time for a little consummation.” He insisted, walking you both down the aisle again.

𝓯𝓲𝓷.

[stargildedskies]

Your fav military man, but this time he’s got you bent over his muscled leg, whimpering and pleading with your face smushed against the couch cushion as he rubs your plump pussy with his big, calloused fingers.

It’s almost unfair how he’s got you wound up enough to drool on the cushion. Your legs are spread apart for his complete convenience, and every stroke of his thick fingers against the sensitive, puffy skin has your cunt weeping for more.

You beg and plead for him to do something more- to shove those stupidly thick fingers inside where they belong, and he tuts once, gruffly. A mere second of silence passes, and your clit aches in silent protest of the missing stimulation before- oh.

Your no-nonsense lover’s hand firmly connects with your cunt with a sharp smack, and you see stars. A strangled, surprised moan falls from your lips, and he chuckles darkly, a soft, rasping sound that makes you whine again. “Oh, baby…. Did we learn something new today?”

[ayyy-pee]

waking up freezing and shivering, teeth chattering every night because your husband is a blanket hog. you know it's not on purpose. he just can't help it. doesn't even know he does it most times. you'd think after years together you'd be used to it, but waking up curled into the fetal position as you try to retain even a smidge of warmth is something you don't think you'll ever adjust to.

so you reach behind you, feeling your spouses large form wrapped snug as a bug in your shared blanket and you grip onto the fabric. you pull as hard as you can but you don't manage to move him even an inch. you try once more...same result.

"ken..." you whisper, wrapping your arms around yourself. no response. "kento..."

he doesn't budge. you're tempted to just get up and go grab another blanket, but your husband, despite his seriousness, can get quite pouty when you do that. so you tap him hard instead sure to jab him in the spot you know is his most sensitive. this seems to do the trick as he grunts in response.

"I'm cold," you tell nanami and he sits up quickly, realizing what he's done. his pajama top hangs off one shoulder. his blonde hair is pointing every which way and sleep is heavy on his eyelids, threatening to weigh him down again any minute.

"I'm sorry, love," nanami speaks, voice rough and deep with exhaustion, but the sincerity in his apology clear.

then he's throwing the blanket back over you both. only he adds in a little extra warmth as he wraps his arm around your waist and throws a large leg over your body.

nanami buries his face in your neck, adjusting himself so that he can be as close to you as possible. only a few seconds pass before you hear his light snoring behind you. and you know the warmth you feel is from more than just his touch.

[priceoftheduchess]

i have baby fever so…

Single Dad!Simon Riley whose daughter is so sweet.

You, a sweet and humble hairdresser in your salon which you’ve bought and built from the ground yourself, having a walk-in appointment with a 6’4” hulking man, and his most precious angel. A black surgical mask covering his jaw, mouth and nose.

His little angel, who you learn to be Amelia, climbs into your chair with the cutest grunts of struggle and eventually a triumphant sigh. Her dad, in his effortlessly silky, gruff voice, explains that her hair is now down to her knees practically and he needs help. Her mother left when she was young and he’s only ever had one brother.

You chuckle softly and nod, and his daughter looks up at you after you explain that you’ll be trimming her gorgeous hair and demonstrating some simple braiding techniques to her father, and in the tiniest, cutest little Londoner accent:

“Thank you for helping my Daddy.” You nearly burst into tears at her shining hazel eyes and her big, toothy smile. You nod and begin sectioning her hair after placing a pink apron over her front. She beams to her Dad, “Look! She gave me pink!” He laughs and his eyes shine with pride. She’s so good at communicating, even though she barely looks five. She’s so adorably tiny, too.

At the end of the appointment, Simon has learned three different braid styles. He’s a natural, you assure him. You curl his daughter’s hair just before she leaves, and she does a little dance around the place in her princess dress. Her dad picks her up, and he smiles at you. Thanking you in that knee-weakening voice of his. He promises he’ll be back with any hair concerns, and he even tips you extra.

Before he leaves, his daughter points at you and asks if he can take you home. He responds, without missing a damn beat:

“Mm, only if she wants to come home with us.” He winks at you for good measure.

You think that maybe that idea isn’t so bad.

[vorbisx]

Replacing physical buttons and controls with touchscreens also means removing accessibility features. Physical buttons can be textured or have Braille and can be located by touch and don't need to be pressed with a bare finger. Touchscreens usually require precise taps and hand-eye coordination for the same task.

Many point-of-sale machines now are essentially just a smartphone with a card reader attached and the interface. The control layout can change at a moment's notice and there are no physical boundaries between buttons. With a keypad-style machine, the buttons are always in the same place and can be located by touch, especially since the middle button has a raised ridge on it.

Buttons can also be located by touch without activating them, which enables a "locate then press" style of interaction which is not possible on touchscreens, where even light touches will register as presses and the buttons must be located visually rather than by touch.

When elevator or door controls are replaced by touch screens, will existing accessibility features be preserved, or will some people no longer be able to use those controls?

Who is allowed to control the physical world, and who is making that decision?

[sai-int]

fwb!simon, reader catches feelings- NO. FWB!SIMON BUT SIMON CATCHES FEELINGS. [ pt 2 ]

--

it's quite simple.

simon comes home from a mission, he's restless, twitching, pacing, can't figure out what to do with his hands.

so what does he do? he knocks on your door, waiting anxiously until you open it and he's scooping you up, hauling you across the hall and into his basically empty apartment, and fucking you into the mattress for the night.

and you're just so good at taking it—whatever he gives you and whenever he gives it. you cry, whine, beg and plead for his cock in all the ways you know how—until you go blue in the face—and simon fucking revels in it. he's all harsh words and degrading names, calling you a filthy slut, his cocksleeve, a fucking cumdump—you name it, he's probably said it.

it's perfect, until it's not.

he's spent months fucking you stupid, night after night. he fucks you even when he's not restless. he fucks you when he's bored, when he's lonely. especially when he's lonely.

simon riley's a gridlocked man. hardly anything ever gets past him, but it didn't take many rendezvous between your thighs for him to forget that.

his mask would come fully off—not just above his lips—and you'd still kiss him breathless, still scream his name until your throat went hoarse. you weren't afraid of everything underneath. if anything, you liked it.

It's not like the both of you frequently exchanged actual conversations, but he could tell by the way you dripped and soaked his sheets even more than you ever had.

after that, he even began to gather enough courtesy to let you get some rest after he fucks you, letting you stay wrapped in his sheets for whatever sliver of the night was left.

you never pushed, and that's what he liked most about you. you always went by his terms because you never really cared as long as you got fucked six ways from sunday.

so, you always left when he woke without a problem. that was the arrangement and you were more than fine with getting a good fuck only a few steps away from your own home.

then even you began to notice the shift.

simon could never fuck you badly, per se. but he began to fuck you more softly. tenderly, as if he was suddenly aware that humans shouldn't be bent in half as long he's had you pinned underneath him in the past. he'll rock his hips into you with similar fervor, but he'd caress you, rather than grab at you. hold your forehead to his, rather than choke you with his thick hands.

then came the praise. god, it's like fucking a completely different man. from one week to the next, you're no longer a slut or a hole, you're pretty girl and angel. it makes your head spin. you try to pinpoint the change and why it happened, but you can't. somehow, you cum twice as hard now.

it all came to an ugly head when he spent the better part of 2 hours between your thighs, moaning and groaning as if you were doing him a service.

now, you weren't going to complain, but love just wasn't in the cards for you right now, and the looks simon was giving you from where he lapped at your cunt were filled with adoration, like he was waiting for you to tell him how good he was doing.

hell, you could see a phantom tail wagging each time his eyes met your own. and after a session that felt more like making love than an explosion of pure lust, you could feel his eyes lingering on you as you slipped your panties back on.

"what?" you hum, not wanting to face him in fear you'd see that godforsaken look in his eyes again.

and you were right, because he's staring at you like he's about to drop to one knee. "nothin'."

you toss your shirt back over your head and steel yourself as you turn to face him.

"simon," you start and he's already hanging on your words, "what's going on with you lately? i don't mean to sound rude but—"

this is it, he thinks. it has to be now, or nothing will change. he's not a religious man, but if he's ever prayed to god for anything, it's for this to become something real.

"'m in love with ya."

one blink, then two. two to three, three to four. you stare at him as you try to piece together what he's saying.

"simon, i don't think you understand—"

"—i do. i do understand and i want ya, bad. so bad, i can't even stop thinkin' bout ya, sweetheart. even when y'not 'ere im thinkin' about ya. everything about y'is perfect, and i don't think i can function without y'with me."

this is the most emotion you've ever seen out of simon and it rocks you to your core. if you didn't know better—and if the lighting wasn't so dim—you'd think he was tearing up.

you didn't know how to break it to him.

[biggest-gaudiest-patronuses]

the fact that languages change over time is so funny to me. we have thousands of language that work perfectly well, but no that's not good enough, we need to keep fiddling with them. no not making them better, just making them different. why? well, humans enjoy making up words and phrases. for fun. enrichment activity

[cuntphoric]

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ masterlist

satoru gojo

big stretch spider!mangojo webs you up mwahs your tits video games after sex making out with rival!gojo gojo sucks tits when he's bored gojo and geto overstimming your tits desperate gojo deepthroating you wearing gojo's blindfold while he plays with your folds gojo masturbates over your photos overstimulation with gojo praise & degrade gojo loooves edging you just to see you beg shower sex

what a game threesome gojo's hands good kisser gojo gojo loves you and your dick sucking skills cumplay small or large he's good gojo misses your titties and fucks you later on softdom!gojo loves worshipping gojo IS the present male lactation LOL bad time? first time sucking him aftermath

happy trail gojo gojo's dick is pretty he knows how to use it gojo's dick hcs getting off to your reactions giving your bf gojo head gojo loves missionary bf gojo overstims you A LOT while eating you out tits, ass, or thighs? this man fucks hard aftercare with gojo making out & tits gojo loves getting praised so he'll do the favor right back gojo would not complain eating you out for a long time

bratty gojo mirror sex spooning sex late christmas shopping fucking i feel like gojo's top five positions on a certain day would be this p links #1 subby gojo handcuffed, laying on his back as you ride his face pegging gojo gojo with a pussy

suguru geto

gojo and geto overstimming your tits bad time? pegging geto

kiyotaka ijichi

dry humping & making out

hiromi higuruma

higurama loves you and your cum!

takuma ino

soft dom ino

events

smut-o-matic event

p links

gojo p links #1

[lost-in-fiction-like-ur-mom]

Nightmare

KANG DAE-HO X READER

Summary- Dae-ho wakes up from a nightmare, with you being the only one by his side to calm him down.

Warnings- Mentions of PTSD, Nightmare, ECT.

A/N- Thank you, @tomgregtruther101 @errruvande @momoko-world @thethreeeyed-raven for encouraging me to write this!

Word Count- 1,223

A low mumble awoke you from your slumber. Typically you were a heavy sleeper, but when it came to Dae-ho it was different. You could have slept through a firework show. Though, the second your beloved got up to use the bathroom- you're up with him.

It bothered the sweet man at first, he hated waking you up. After some reassurance that you didn't mind, he warmed up to the idea. This night, however, was not like many.

It was not uncommon for Dae-Ho to wake up frazzled. He would get something warm to drink from the kitchen, and lay back down. (Praying he didn't wake you). On the much more common occurrence, you would awake with him. In turn, you'd be the one making him something warm to drink, possibly something sweet to snack on. Then the two of you would cuddle until he was fast asleep.

It was honestly comforting for you as well, being able to be his anchor was flattering. He trusted you like no other.

Dae-ho was not Frazzled though, and he didn't wake up to get a beverage.

He was thrashing, hard. His legs slightly kicking, arms jumping up every few seconds. With an impossibly scrunched face, he mumbled again.

"Dae?" You whispered out. The only response you received was a hit to the side, a stray flaring hand had got you.

The mumbling quickly turned louder, now sounding like a cry or groan. It worried you beyond recognition.

"Dae-ho." You pressed a gentle hand to his shoulder. His body jerked away from it. Very uncharacteristic.

A disfigured 'no' left his lips, a struggled sob escaped. He had managed to kick the comforter off of himself, and the bed.

You were now sat on your knees, looming over him. "Dae-ho!" You firmly grabbed both of his shoulders, shaking him.

A loud gasp erupted from both of you as his eyes shot open, you had no time to make a comment. His legs pushed and kicked, separating himself from you. At that singular moment, in his fear struck mind, he didn't seem to recognize you.

He had already found himself against the headboard of the bed, his hands pressing tight against his ears. You had barely blinked in all his movement.

With gaping eyes, a pounding chest, and heavy breathing he looked at you. Almost as if you were the one who hurt him.

"It just me, Dae-ho, its just me..." You spoke as soft and low as you could. You didn't approach any closer, but put your hands up to appear less intimidating.

His eyes just darted across the room in response, body curling further. His lip quivered, face and body drenched in sweat.

"You're okay, you're safe. Dae, you're safe. It's just me... It was just a nightmare, everything is okay..."

He swallowed thick, slowly nodding his head. His gaze now stuck on yours. His scared and nerve wrecked appearance crushed you. It was opposite of the man he appears to show to everyone, only you knew of his nightmares.

"I'm going to come closer, I promise I'm here, I'm real, you're at home. Safe in bed..." You shuffled over on your knees, hands starting at his forearm.

He slightly flinched at your touch, but made no attempt to move away. Your hand caressed across his arm, going to his own hand. You tenderly unravel his tight grip on his head, tangling your fingers in his.

A large sigh left him, his head falling back in frustration. He was now back to reality, though still beat and weary. Water glossed over his eyes. He bit his lip hard, trying to fight away any tears. He thought it would make him seem less of a man to cry in front of you. You couldn't disagree more.

"I'm so sor-" His voice cracked as he tried to speak, a couple tears has managed to escape. You didn't let him finish, his face was pressed deeply into your chest within seconds. He truly didn't know what he was apologizing for, for waking you? For having a nightmare? For his frequent PTSD attacks?

You had quickly taken his frame into your arms. He would have admitted that your knees pressing into his thighs was uncomfortable, but he didn't care right now. You were with him, holding him, and loving him. That's all he cared about.

"Don't you dare apologize, you've done nothing wrong." You cradled his head tight, pressing kisses to the top of his crown.

You managed to twist the two of you around, your back now against the headboard with him in your lap. He was quiet for awhile, you simply rocked him back and forth for a little bit.

His arms found themselves wrapped around your waist. He held onto you for dear life... Almost as if you'd fade away if he let go. You heard his breathing shake every few breaths, but he was calming down.

Continuing to rock, you reached your hands up to his hair. It was half up, half down. The hair tie pulled out of his hair easily enough. You were able to considerably comb through his hair with your fingers. A simple action you knew he loved.

While one hand worked at his soft black hair, another rubbed circles on his back. "Feeling better?"

He sniffled, leaning up to look at you. He couldn't meet your eyes, almost embarrassed. His meek, "Thank you." was accompanied by a nod.

You brushed through his hair, even with him sat up. "Want to talk about it?" You never wanted to pressure him into anything he wasn't comfortable with.

"Just the typical... but you were there, you were who I was shooting... It was like you were the enemy... I just- I can't describe it.. It made no sense-." His voice shook again, so you interrupted him.

"Exactly, baby. It was a nightmare that will never happen... Because I know you would never hurt me, that you would do anything to protect me?" Your tone implied a question.

He nodded furiously, now making direct eye contact. There wasn't a phrase he agreed more with. He looked at you like a loyal puppy.

"See? It was your sweet little mind playing mean tricks on you..." You rested a flat palm to his cheek. Taking in how handsome he looked in the moonlight.

He puffed, now more light hearted, and fell back onto your chest.

"I promise I will keep you safe from all the nightmares and mind games." He was frustrated at your words.

"But that's supposed to be my job..." He said, face conveniently still upon your breast.

You smiled warmly, "Yes, it is. And you fulfill it perfectly. I couldn't be happier. But, you must let me take care of you as well..."

He didn't respond, his internal monologue had a million points to argue back. But he didn't. He embasked in the moment, squeezing you tight again.

You took the silent request, resuming your back rubbing and head scratching.

From experience, you knew he would not fall asleep any time soon. That you'd probably fall asleep before him, no matter how hard you tried to stay up. All you could do for now was whisper how much you love him, play with his hair, and hum silly melodies.

And he was content with that.

A/N- Okay, so erm. I feel like it was rushed (it was), but I also feel that way about all my works. So... Please let me know how I can improve. Also this is my first time writing something like this, so I hope it wasn't terrible. XOXOXOX LOVE YALL

[slasherfantasy]

Fuck-or-die sex pollen fic, where Ghost insists on being the one to fuck you and help you through the toxin.

The others think it's because he has a thing for you (he does), but only Price really understands why Ghost is volunteering. Because there was a time where Ghost also didn't have a say in whether or not someone was inside him, where his choice was also 'be fucked, or die'.

And at least if it's Ghost fucking you, he can make sure that it's as gentle and kind as you deserve. He can make sure it doesn't hurt, that it feels good, that you're given all the respect and dignity possible. You can't consent right now, but he's going to ensure you aren't traumatized like he was

And if he can do this for you, and be gentle, and kind, it proves that he really hasn't become who Roba wanted him to be, right?

[robinsgrl]

rafe with a weird and clingy girl pt. 2 y’all i have a lot of these you don’t even know how weird of a gf i can be.

weird girl masterlist

main masterlist

it’s not just cute aggression. although that is a main factor. you need to be touching him at aalllll times. like all the time.

you’re both in bed, the night a cold one for the outer banks. he’s on his side of the bed reading a lame book that you can’t care for. and despite being under the same blanket as him, he feels warmer.

you place your cold hands on his abs and he lets out a tiny yelp and shoves you away. “god, why are you so cold?”

“as my boyfriend it’s your job to warm me up!”

“no way, then i quit”

you put your hands back on him and despite how he tenses from the cold, he doesn’t push you away again. this gives you to the idea to trail your hand down and put them in his shorts.

“what the hell are you doing?”

“that’s the warmest part of you”

“what?”

“it’s like when i put my hands in my bra cause it’s really warm”

“you put your hands in your bra?”

“shut up, you put your hands in my bra all the time”

“to cop a feel not to get warm”

“don’t move my hands!” because he’s trying to get your hands out of his shorts

“baby, you cant grip on me because you want to warm up”

“okay then pretend im coping a feel!”

“get off of me weirdo!” he laughs, attention now on you as you practically wrestle

you like to slap his ass. it’s hard not to. he’s so tantalizing. even when he isn’t trying. you go to the gym with him once and he’s lifting weights as you drool behind him. up and down. up and down. You let out a wolf whistle as you watch him and he tries and hold back his smile.

“just like that” you coo

“you sound like a pervert”

“im a pervert for you”

“that’s not as romantic as you think it is”

“what would you do if i squished a cheek right now?”

this alarms him and he drops the weights, giving you a scolding look. “you can’t squish a guys cheek while he’s lifting”

“im not going to.” you scoff, rolling your eyes at him. you were definitely going to.

he gives you a careful side eye, making sure you’re on your best behavior. a few minutes later and he’s back at his task. you sit, bored, still just watching him. you sigh loudly as you get up off the machine you were sitting on. “you’re boring. im leaving”

“wait for me, angel, im almost—“

you giggle and run away as you send a smack to his ass, “sorry! i had to!”

“jesus, you’re an animal!” he calls out after you.

you don’t even stop at family events. cameron events are usually stuffy. you hate them. but you do what you can for rafe. it’s the end of the awkward dinner and you two are washing dishes. “surprised you didn’t make the help do this”

“we gave him the day off”

“spoiled brat” you tease him as he rinses a dish under the water. you finish drying off the plate and put it in the cabinet, eyes trailing over him. his ass looks good in his dress pants.

with a hop to your step, you stand behind him and wrap your arms around his waist. “what are you up to?”

you scoff, “can’t a girl hug her man?”

“you’re hugging me like a broke boyfriend. you only do that when you’re up to something”

“would it surprise you if i said im trying to cop a feel?”

“nothing about you surprises me anymore”

“so you won’t be mad?”

“i’ll be pissed.”

“too late” you bring your hands behind him and give his ass a squeeze. he tenses at this, pushing himself forward to get away from you.

“you’re perverted!”

“you have cake! i can’t help it!”

“cake? god, you gross me out”

“stop running away!”

he’s threatening you with a wet hand towel but you dodge him as you keep chasing after him. dinners at this house are always the worst but not as the two of you run around the kitchen, laughter filling the air.

“uh, what’s happening?” wheezie’s voice cuts the two of you off.

rafe’s got you draped on his shoulder, your hands on his ass from the upside down angle you’re in. you both pause. “we’re touching butts.”

“jesus, baby, don’t tell my sister that”

[cream1111]

🍎 weird dream . . .ᐟᅟ

⠀⎯⎯⠀⠀caleb/mc!reader, 1.5k, somno, noncon, fingering, dry humping. ao3 ! part 2

it's not uncommon for you to burst into caleb's room without knocking. it was the same no matter where he was, you'd walk straight to his bed, already talking, as if all his attention was yours to command the second you entered his periphery, as if it was your own room. sometimes he'd be by his desk, perking up at the sound of the door being opened and turning to face you, sometimes he's already in bed reading, scooting over to make room as he continues his book, not even having to look at you. you'd snuggle in, making yourself comfortable.

"you know you got your own bed, right?" he'd tease, as if he'd have it any other way.

"yeah, but yours is waaay more comfortable" you'd feign a pout. he never pushes, and you never expect him to.

you'd talk and talk, and he'd listen happily. and sometimes, you'd fall asleep in his bed, never asking, never thinking to. it had always been like this.

even after he moved out for school, summers still gave you the chance to live together once again. you'd seamlessly slip back into the routine, as if no time had passed.

tonight was no different.

you were snuggled up against him, you had been telling him about some gossip from school, some text conversation with a friend. using his outstretched arm as a pillow as you looked up at the ceiling, gesturing at nothing, looking over at him occasionally, catching his eye every time. his eyes never strayed from you. you were used to his gaze, the feeling was constant when he was around.

your story slowed, yawns every few minutes became every few words. until finally a comfortable silence filled the room. he let's out a little laugh. rubbing your shoulder to help ease you into a nice dream.

"must've been really sleepy, huh" he mutters into your hair, petting you, you offer a sleepy groan as a response. he can't help but smile, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head as you hum happily. it's not long before your breathing slows into that familiar pattern. your chest rising and falling evenly, you were sound asleep.

"there you go," caleb coos softly, shifting to be behind you, wrapping his arms around your middle. slowly, so slowly, he moves his hand to rub your stomach. small soothing circles, testing the waters. you've never woken up so far, but he doesn't want to push his luck.

his fingers drift lower, silk soft touches along the exposed skin between your slightly shifted top and the hem of your shorts. he could do this forever, feeling you under his hands, in between his arms, against his chest. he loved having you so close like this, he doesn't know if he could go without it. he knows you feel the same, you might not know it entirely, maybe you don't think about it too much, but he sees the way you look at him, the way you blush, the way you tease. you feel it too, you just aren't ready to act on it yet, you wanna keep the charade going. and that's fine, he's a patient man.

for the most part.

his fingers grow restless, sliding under the waistband of your shorts, under your panties, trailing lower and lower, slow and steady. he hovers over your clit, your breathing remains even.

he waits a second, just to be sure.

and he softly presses down. you don't stir at all. he begins to move in easy little circles, just the right amount of pressure. he thinks he's perfected it. he got a bit too eager with you once, and you almost woke up. you like soft touches, he knows that, for now at least.

he uses his arm around your waist to pull you closer, pressing your ass flush against his growing hard on. he has to bite back a moan, letting out a deep breath instead. he wants to grind into you so bad, but this isn't about him, it's all about you. he remains still, cock twitching against the layers that separate your skin.

he knows one day you'll be together. he can wait until then, but in the meantime, he just wants to open you up a bit. get you ready for him. he thinks it's sweet even, he knows you don't have any experience. he doesn't want you to feel embarrassed or scared he won't fit. he'll be able to assure you and mean it, he'll know your body so well already, you'll have nothing to worry about.

his finger against your clit presses harder, just a touch. your thighs shift, pressing into his bulge harder. he slows, not yet stopping. waiting, checking for any tell tale signs of you waking up.

"mm..." you let out a tiny moan, still asleep. caleb can't help but let his eyes flutter closed at the sound. letting his face nuzzle deeper into your hair, peppering encouraging kisses against your head as he breathes in your scent.

"feels good?" he mutters, barely audible. "let's see..." his hand stills, moving lower, dipping between your lips towards your opening. he has to bite his lip again to hold back the low moan that almost escaped.

you're soaked.

he has a habit of giving you what you want. now is no exception, he won't make you wait.

he circles your opening, before slowly inching in. his cock twitches again, head weeping, wanting nothing more than to be buried inside you. he pushes in deeper and deeper.

"nngh⎯" you let out a soft groan, and he freezes. he's unsure if it's discomfort or pleasure. you're tense around him.

"i know, i know, it's why we're opening you up." he whispers in his most reassuring tone, hoping it'll reach you in your dreams and put you at ease. and it seems to work, you relax, sinking deeper into the bed, soft walls welcoming his finger.

"mhm, just like that..." he presses into you, his finger is as deep as it could go. he angles his wrist so the meat of his palm presses into your clit as he slips a second finger in.

"hah," you sigh sweetly. caleb takes a deep breath, trying to keep his desire in check. maybe, maybe you've done this enough times, maybe you can take a little more now. he justifies it to himself as he curls his fingers out just to push it back inside, a little harsher now, causing you to press harder against his needy cock. you tense again, but relax before he even has a chance to comfort you.

he's losing all composure now.

he repeats the motion, harder, grinding against you. and again, and again, falling into a steady rhythm.

"mmph!" the sweet sounds seem to pour out of your lips. he takes them as encouragement, moving his head lower to brush his lips against your neck. your body sways with each thrust from his fingers, pliant and so accepting of everything he's giving.

he's moving you so much he doesn't notice as you shift more against him.

you feel the pleasure bubbling within you first. it pulls you close to waking. you've had this dream before. being fondled and fucked. your eyes squeeze shut tighter, but it starts to sting, it feels real, you feel the pressure of your eyes against your skull. you twitch, and you suddenly become acutely aware of the ache in your core.

your eyes flutter, half lidded as you take in your surroundings. caleb, he's behind you, and he's ... his ⎯ you can't think straight. he's still moving. you're moving, he's moving your body along with his.

he's pressed against you, he's huffing in your ear, and his hand is in your panties.you try to keep your breathing in check, you want to pant, you feel so overwhelmed all over, you feel surrounded, filled.

right before you can fully acknowledge what is happening, you feel it, your peak is approaching, fast. it's all too much, all of it, his thrusts, his breath against you, his hard cock grinding on your ass, his fingers so, so deep. you try to stop it, whimpers tumble out, you try to speak, but it comes out as a lewd moan.

"w-wai⎯" but it's too late. it all comes crashing down, you come onto his fingers. he feels it, shoving his fingers deep and then holding them still, letting your walls milk him, fruitlessly.

"fuck, yeah, that's it," he whispers, kissing your neck. he was trembling, "mmm, yes."

as you come down you realize he's stopped moving as well, as he shifts you feel the cold air hit a fresh damp spot against your ass. he gently removes his hand for your panties, you crack your eye open as he raises it, past your face and out of sight. you hear him behind you, his lips part and he's sucking his fingers. he let's out a soft groan at your taste. you shudder.

"sooo good, you did so good." he murmurs into your hair. moving his arms to surround you again. you feel unsure, maybe, you're still dreaming. it's hard to tell, you feel so sleepy again. you lean further into him. he's so warm. it just feels right. and it's not unlike dreams you've had before. maybe, you liked it more than you're willing to admit.

you could worry about this in the morning.

[petrichormuse]

practicin drawing them closer to canon bc the only reason i draw them in the more cartoon style is bc i couldn't do this in the beginning

look at them go guys

look at how hot cute they are

[elucubrare]

i firmly hold that it's my duty as a reader to believe it when an author tells me at the beginning of the series that the dragons are gone forever and never coming back. but god it's a struggle sometimes.