#big sexy brain idea

[rumble-bee-art]

Work-life balance definitely doesn’t exist in this time-binding job

[dickytwister]

if i made a taglist for my blorbo posting. would anyone be interested in that. maybe

[c0ffinrehearsal]

for the ask game 23, 48 & 62 for you wouldn't like me, pleaseee <3

23. Is writing the beginning, middle, or end of the story easiest? Hardest?

it really depends on the story, but for the most part endings are the hardest for me. it’s a combination of not wanting to let go of the universe i’m writing in, and having anxiety about tying up the loose ends. lately i’ve been less worried about that, and more comfortable just - leaving things up to reader’s interpretation, not spelling everything out. for every fic i’ve posted so far, i wrote one big scene and then worked the rest of the fic around that, so middles are the easiest.

48. Who is your favorite character to write for?  Has this changed since you’ve started writing for that fandom?

sirius, my love, my baby - writing him is my absolute favorite. when i started in this fandom, though, i initially thought i related to remus more and would mostly write from his pov but every time i tried it just didn’t feel right, so i’ve mostly avoided it since then. foxfire is gonna be remus pov though and i’m a little nervous about it, but it’ll be a fun change.

62. In [you wouldn’t like me], is there a deleted scene/idea you wish you could have included?  Why did it get cut?

oh there’s so many. literally every other day i think of things i want to add in but they just don’t make sense in the main fic. what’s where the b-sides come in - one-shots and drabbles of various scenarios for the gang that i’ll post here and there after the main fic is done! here are some examples of what i’ve already got planned for those:

* lily goes to the library with sirius and teaches him to make a myspace account * remus & sirius go to a concert together, maybe a music festival? * sirius attempts to take nudes with his flip phone *remus getting his knuckles tattooed and sirius being very into it *absolutely filthy smut in various settings, includingg sirius getting a new harness and strap and remus kindly letting them test it out on him <3

but if y’all have any requests or prompts for the b-sides, please let me know - i’d love to write them!

[vulpinesaint]

Also, please consider suicide. We don't need anymore gender confused people.✨

WE DID IT BOYS WE GOT A SUICIDE BAIT!!!!! i feel so proud of myself like i’ve really achieved something here. i’d like to thank all my incredibly hot transsexual mutuals for helping me get this far 🖤🖤 and to this terf and any terfs reading this, kill yourself. not an invitation

[russell-crowe]

loving russell in a mlm way really hits different

[boldlyexplorational]

Oh wow yes! Well said! I was thinking about how to respond to this and my train of thought ended up at "we'll that's just sort of the point "Arena" is trying to make, isn't it" (or one of the points). I think that the creators and writers actually did think that far about this: the man of the future fights with his mind, not his muscle. He takes advantage of the surroundings, studies enemies weakness and uses all resources at his disposal (be that his thick sexy thighs).

I really like how Kirk's fighting style is just throwing himself at the enemy, full body. Not only because it's adorable and hilarious. But hear me out, this is the connection my damaged brain made:

Using your full body weight to fight it's not a novelty, but it's usually associated with the idea that if you don't have a lot of muscle power, that's a way you can have more force when you hit.

For this reason (and I would like to specify that in no way I agree with this or think it is a reasonable conclusion to get to) this type of fighting technique is associated with women, especially in modern media (see black widow type characters).

I'm obsessed with the fact that the paragon of manliness of the future fights "like a girl" for modern standards (he literally did the tight choke and twist).

[mariasont]

My Boss Won't Be Happy About This - A.H

a/n: back to bimbo brain rot!!!! inspired by the first season that one episode (you know the one) where hotch is all macho man with elle in jamaica

masterlist

₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚₊‧

pairings: aaron hotchner x bimbo!assistant!reader

summary: you’re wrongfully arrested and hotch is not happy about it

warnings: creepy officer, inaccuracies of how law enforcement works, hotch being sexy

wc: 1.3k

"Listen I'm not the type of girl to tell someone how to do their job, but I just don't think you're doing it right."

You were speaking to an empty room, or at least, you were speaking to the mirror in front of you. It's the kind of mirror you had seen in countless interrogation scenes, the kind you usually image Hotch standing behind. You let your gaze linger, wondering if eyes are studying you from the other side, listening to your monologue.

"Well, that, and I also just don't think it's very nice." Your brand spanking new heels were tapping against the dirty floor. 

You weren't happy about that. You weren't happy about any of this. Your feet ache, but the fear of the germs lurking on the floor paralyzes any thoughts of relief by removing your shoes.

"And hey, shouldn't I get a phone call? That's a rule, I think," you mumble, lips turning downward in an unusual frown. It seems like the right time for it. "My boss is not going to take this well. I mean, he's got this look, you know? The kind that makes you want to apologize for things you didn't even do."

You conjured up his daunting expression and released a jittery laugh, all while striving to disregard the biting cold blasting from the AC vent, which seemed determine to freeze you into place. 

You were seriously out of your element, not just in surroundings but in dress--so form-fitting it left very little to the imagination. It seemed to be a good idea for a date. That was before you realized said date would be a complete disaster. Now, it felt like a trap. It had been a spectacle for a man unworthy of the effort, and as you sat in this rigid chair, you found yourself tugging at the hem every other moment, a futile attempt to preserve some semblance of modesty.

"So, when he hears about this little error... Well, let's just say I wouldn't want to be in your shoes." Six hours had passed in this dreary space, and you could feel your sanity fraying at the edges. You muttered, half to yourself, "Not that they're as cute as mine, but you get the point."

The door hinge's creak made you sit bolt upright, a silent supplication for Hotch's rescue echoing through your mind. But today, it seemed, the gods were indifferent. The officer who had arrested you stepped in.

"Having fun talking to yourself?"

You flashed your sweetest smile. "Oh, tons! But I'd have much more fun if you'd uncuff me."

He said nothing, folding his arms over his chest as he dragged his gaze up and down your body in a way that made your skin prickle in discomfort. You attempted to dispel the creeping dread, but it stubbornly lingered.

You did what you could to cover up, despite the awkward angle of your arms. "Listen, this is all just a big mistake. I work for the FBI," you insisted, though it was clear the officer's attention was fixated on your tits rather than your words. "Well, I mean, I'm an assistant for the unit chief of the BAU unit. You've heard of Aaron Hotchner, haven't you?"

The officer's mouth closed without a word, as the door was thrust open yet again, and this time, your heart leapt in recognition. Your knight in shining armor with a lethal expression.

His eyes instantly zeroed in on the officer with a look that could curdle blood, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of relief that you weren't the object of his anger. He approached you wordlessly, his every motion precise and determined.

He carefully shed his jacket, a gesture he seldom made, and draped it across your shoulders. The fleeting caress of his hand against your skin was enough to make you lean into his touch. You let out a breath that you had been unconsciously holding back. 

You watched as Hotch turned, his voice a low, steady force, his words carefully chosen and tinged with an unsettling peace. "Officer," he began, the title spoken almost as warning. "I believe there has been a grave misunderstanding. This woman is not only an esteemed member of the FBI, but she is also under my direct supervision."

He stepped closer, encroaching on the officer's personal space. You watched, almost in slow motion, as the officer's expression morphed into one of sheer terror, his earlier confidence dissolving like sugar in hot tea.

"Six hours," he continued, his voice never rising yet somehow it took up all the space in the confined room. "Six hours of unwarranted detention, without due process. I expect her immediate release. And make no mistake, this lapse in judgment will have its ramifications."

The officer was mute, his fingers clumsily unlocking the handcuffs, his movements hurried, his hands trembling. A twinge of pity flickered within you, but it was quickly overshadowed by the memory of considering the table as a makeshift blanket.

The moment the metal clicked open; you wasted no time. You flung your arms around Hotch, the pent relief and biting chill of the past few hours pouring out of you. You were desperate for warmth, specifically his warmth.

He stiffened, caught off guard by your actions. You feel the anger radiating through him, practically pulsing through his skin. As you clung to him, you felt the draft on your legs as your dress slid up, and without missing a beat Hotch's hand discreetly adjusted the fabric, all while keeping his eyes locked on the officer, a silent warning in his gaze.

Once he was certain you were decently covered, he allowed himself to draw him into his arms. One arm secured around your waist, the other weaving through your hair. You were cold. It renewed another tide of rage through his bloodstream.

With the officer's departure, the room's oppressive atmosphere lightened a touch, leaving you still latched onto your boss.

"Oh, sir, you wouldn't believe it," you started, his hands tracing up your spine and sparking a trail of goosebumps that had nothing to do with the chill. "They kept asking me about a heist, as if I'd know anything about that! And then they show me this picture, and I mean, sure, she had my hair, but that's about it."

You rambled on, and he let you, the absurdity of the situation pouring out in a stream of consciousness. Hotch's hold on you tightened. You could sense the coiled tension in him, a tempest of anger held a bay.

"And the room, it was so cold! I mean, I'm sure you can tell. My teeth were chattering, and all I could think of was how I'd rather be filing your paperwork or listening to Reid's factoids about the quantum mechanics of coffee beans."

You felt Hotch's breath on your hair as he let out a sigh. 

"I'm just glad you're here now," you whispered, finally allowing yourself to relax in his embrace.

Hotch gave a curt nod, his jaw set. He was itching to confront the officer, to unleash a tirade not meant for your ears. But he was well aware of how much you needed him right now, and that trumped everything in his book.

Hotch took a moment to compose himself before speaking. "This isn't just incompetence; it's negligence. I will have this place reevaluated for its standards, or lack thereof."

You took a step back, hands still resting on his arms, and he maintained his grip on your waist. "I bet this is the last time you'll let me go on a date without a full background check on the guy, huh, sir?"

Hotch's hold on your waist firmed just a fraction. "Maybe it's the last time I let you go on a date, period."

He was only half-joking.

"Not even with you?" You tilted your head to meet his gaze, drawing his jacket closer around you.

Hotch just simply gives you that look, the one that says a thousand words without a sound. He's telling you to tread lightly.

"Alright, I'll be good," you giggle, the tension easing from your shoulders. "Can you take me home now, please?"

He nods, "Yeah, let's get you home."

And then he leads you out, thinking to himself that the next person to take you out will be him, but that's for him to know and you to find out later.

taglist: @hotchhner @khxna

[ultravioletrayz]

I’m trying to get to sleep but now I am WIDE AWAKE WITH MIGGY IDEAS AAAAAH help 🙈 Miguel trying to sleep and his f!reader not being able to so she keeps ��bugging’ him with little kisses or fidgeting or nuzzling her soft curves into him - things keeping him awake until he can’t take it anymore and tries to ‘expel her energy’ one way or another 👀🤔 aaaaahhhhhh my heart ❤️

kikiiiii this is so sexy!!

Pairing: miguel o’hara x curvy!f!reader

Warnings: 18+, prone bone, lazy sex, unprotected p in v, hair pulling, miguel is a little bit mean but that's just because he's sleepy

Summary: a tired, frustrated miguel gets fed up with your restlessness and fucks you to sleep

A/N: just a little blurb because the idea short-circuited my brain and I can't write properly 😭

Those wandering hands that had been twirling and tickling at the curly hairs decorating Miguel's nape are now firmly gripping the sheets as your body rocks back and forth in tandem with the squeaking mattress.

You're lying on your tummy, ass cheeks held apart by big, rough hands so that the lewd squelching of your drenched pussy can't be muffled. Miguel's hips slam into the flesh of your ass with each of his deep, pacifying strokes, giving you everything you so clearly wanted from him a few moments ago.

Miguel is a groaning, sloppy mess against your back, hunched over you lethargically as he grinds his pelvis against you, his fat tip massaging your insides, making you whine against the pillows and sink further into the mattress, your body already tired as you close your eyes and take his big cock as well as you can.

Until one of his hands leaves your ass, reaching up to grab a fistful of your hair, long fingers getting tangled in the strands as he yanks your head upwards, leaning down to look at your fucked-out face, a cocky smirk gracing his own sweat-covered features.

"Nuh uh, sweetheart. If I don't get to sleep, neither do you." He grumbles, both of his hands now reaching beneath your stomach to hoist you up slightly, his dick reaching impossibly deeper, spearing into you at the perfect angle, fucking you like he wants you to lose all of your energy but not giving you a single moment to catch your breath.

You may not be sleeping now, but it's obvious that you won't be able to get up for days after tonight.

this prompt is my new favourite bedtime story

[you-know-honey]

Hanging in Your Hands

Viktor x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 4k

←←←1/2

Viktor finds in you a love that subtly transforms him: without realizing it, he begins to take better care of himself, rest better and relieve his pain, all thanks to the peace you bring him. Finding a way to show you what he could never do with words.

N/A: English is not my native language, feel free to correct me in the comments and I will update it. Remember to share and comment if you liked it. Endnotes.

“Home sweet home…” you hum as Viktor opens the door, letting you in first like a true gentleman. You’re the first to leave your coat on the coat rack and throw your shoes somewhere in the room, walking now much more comfortably towards the kitchen.

Viktor’s home isn’t very big, but it had changed a lot since the first time you went there. Before, everything looked like a scene from the most godforsaken place, with almost no furniture and white morgue lighting. It was hard to convince him that to improve his health he also need to improve his environment. The living room was the largest room, with a functional fireplace, a second-hand coffee table and a sofa so soft it could be a piece stolen from heaven. The kitchen was the smallest, there was no table or chairs, instead there was a breakfast bar and some swivel chairs that you had taken from the academy and that Viktor had fixed. The bathroom started the hallway, followed by his office and finally his room. You had made sure that every room reflected something positive, watering plants or doing crafts like a comfort fairy. Viktor appreciated it, he had told you so many times, he didn't mind that you filled his house with your not so practical decorations, they were your personal brand and he liked it, besides spending all that time decorating, painting and remodeling gave him more reasons to love you, to get to know you perfectly and be fascinated by what he found in your being. Without you he wouldn't have managed to make his house feel and look like a real home in which to rest.

Viktor removes his jacket with precise movements. His long, deft fingers slide the dark fabric over his shoulders, revealing the impeccable shirt that sits tight against his slim figure. He folds the jacket carefully, as if he's in no hurry, and lays it over the back of the sofa. His hands move up to the knot of his tie. His fingers, always so precise, pull at the knot with ease, undoing the pressure around his neck. The gesture, so mundane to him, has a strange effect on you, an electric current running through your body. As if that weren't enough, the top button of his shirt unbuttons under his touch, revealing just a flash of skin on his pale neck. His breathing seems to relax instantly, as if the small adjustment brings him some comfort.

Viktor exhales softly, running a hand through his messy hair, unaware that this distracted gesture, combined with the shadow of exhaustion on his face, makes him look almost unattainable, like a work of art that doesn’t realize its own beauty. You feel trapped in a magnetic web that he doesn’t even know he possesses.

“That was sexy,” you mutter to yourself as you rummage through some food in the fridge.

“Excuse me?” His low voice echoes behind you, you have no idea how he moved so fast, his tone is incredulous, and his eyebrows arch slightly.

You shrug, trying to look casual as you turn to look at him, even though you know your face is probably burning. “What I said. You’re sexy. Especially when you do that without realizing it.”

His brain shuts down for a moment, processing the bold comment. “Don’t joke with me…” he finally says, leaning his cane against the fridge and trapping you in a bear hug, your hands quickly returning his, feeling the medical corset under his shirt.

“I’m not joking,” you insist, your words crashing against his bare torso, causing him to shiver slightly, which only makes his arms draw you closer to his body. “Is it so hard to believe?” you can hear his heartbeat quicken.

“Stop it…” he replies with his lips on your head.

“Too shy to receive compliments?” in his defense you are being a little more daring than usual.

His arms pull you closer to his body as if that were possible, it is clear that he wants you to stop talking, he laughs when he feels you squirm in his arms as if you are complaining.

“Y/N…” he tells you with that tone that you know is a warning, although it is not serious, you know he is having fun.

You sigh and he loosens his hug a little, enough so that you can rest your chin on his chest.

“Shall we make dinner together?” you ask, Viktor leaned in slightly, his eyes half-lidded in a warm gesture, and brushed the tip of his nose against Y/N’s in a gentle movement, barely a whisper of contact. It was an intimate exchange, full of affection and closeness, that spoke louder than any words. It was as if they shared a secret, a moment just for them, full of warmth and sweetness.

“Sure.”

Making dinner together is a very big word for what really happens in that kitchen, you prepare everything and force him to sit behind the breakfast bar to prove that everything is on point once you start the dinner. Viktor is not afraid to admit that he does not know how to cook anything other than toast and sandwiches. The kitchen is his war zone and the oven is the enemy he has yet to overcome, luckily he has you and by the time the timer in the shape of a pigeon reaches zero his stomach growls with eagerness.

“Taran!” you proudly take the lasagna out of the oven, the warm aroma fills the whole house and both of your stomachs growl desperate for food. “How is it?” you look at him expectantly.

Viktor runs his face over the steaming mold, it looks good and smells good “It’s perfect…” although he could perfectly refer to you instead of the lasagna.

“Go to the sofa, I’ll bring the dishes in a second.” still with your gloves on you push yourself over the breakfast bar to give him a chaste kiss on the lips. Cooking always puts you in a good mood, but seeing that he likes what you cook is a reward on another level.

As you serve the plates and accompany it with something to drink, you watch Viktor’s silhouette walk towards the sofa, he limps a little but that gives him a certain charm because he no longer does it in pain, the way he sits, the way he sighs as he leans his back against the back of the sofa, the way he tilts his head to look at the fire. Everything about him seems like a work of art to you, from the veins that run through his pale, thin hands, his moles that you’re sure must be a constellation in the sky, his eyes that remind you of fresh honey in a virgin forest, his laugh, secret but beautiful like the whistling of rivers in the distance. You love him like you have no idea. Thinking about him revives your spirit, releases unbridled currents of adrenaline that die for him, to reach him, to be in his arms and stay there forever.

“Enjoy” he says when he leaves the dinner on the coffee table, letting you fall on the sofa. Using a blanket to cover you both from the cold.

“Enjoy” he answers, using his arm to pull your figure closer to him and rests his head on yours.

You both eat in silence, not because you have nothing to talk about, just that your stomachs really need that lasagna, you are focused on Viktor’s plate, but this time it doesn’t seem like your tactics are needed to get him to finish eating, he really razes the plate with emotion, something that makes you feel proud. With a full stomach it’s easier to think of something to talk about.

“How about a plant?” You ask, resting your head on his chest, there’s something about his heartbeat that works better to relax you than the ocean sound records on the record players next to the window.

“A plant? Where?” he asks with a playful tone “There are already many at home.” he mentioned, pointing with his gaze to the shelf above the fireplace, full of cacti of different sizes.

“For the lab…something small with green leaves maybe with flowers...” He can hear the small tone of excitement in your voice.

Viktor looked at you curiously. “What do you want it for?”

“For you. The doctors say plants help reduce stress.”

He smiled, a wonderful expression on his face. “Do you think a plant can handle that place?”

“I have faith in it. Just like in you.”

He takes a few seconds to look at you, there is tenderness in his gaze. He is not good with plants, in fact he agreed to have cacti only because they were easy to take care of since basically nothing happened if he forgot about it for a few days, a plant like the one you wanted requires more care but… he is not willing to say no to you, if you want it that way that will be and he will take care of that plant better than anyone else.

“A plant it is then.” He sighs. His figure moves beside you, before you know it he’s picking up the plates.

“Leave the plates, I’ll wash them,” you say, quickly getting up from the couch as Viktor begins to stack the cups and plates on the coffee table.

“No need. I’ll do it,” he replies calmly, already focused on the task. His hands move with the same precision he uses in the lab, carefully stacking each plate to keep them from falling.

“Viktor, I’m your guest. You can’t wash the dishes,” you insist, stepping forward to take the plates from his hands.

He raises an eyebrow, his expression reflecting a mix of amusement and stubbornness. “Guest? You’ve been here so many times that I could claim my bedroom. There’s no point in arguing this.” You reach for the last plate, but Viktor pushes it away with a swift movement. “It’s just a small task. It’s nothing complicated.”

“But—”

“There are no ‘buts’.” He gives you a look, serious but not harsh. It’s more like a silent declaration of victory. “I’ll take care of it.”

Resigned, you sigh and cross your arms, watching him from the couch as he stacks the plates like a jenga and heads toward the kitchen. However, as he stands up with the stack of plates in his hands, he suddenly stops halfway.

For a moment, you don’t understand what’s going on. His back is slightly bent, his posture rigid. Then, he turns his face slightly toward you, his lips pressed into a tight line.

“What’s wrong?” you ask, moving closer with concern.

“A small… inconvenience,” he says in a tone that tries to sound calm, although you notice the stiffness in his voice.

You move closer and see the reason: one of the glasses is dangerously tilted, about to fall. His hands are too busy holding the others and holding onto the cane; moving just a millimeter could lead to disaster.

“Let me help you,” you offer with a smile you can’t help.

“No. It’s under control,” Viktor insists, although his tone lacks the firmness it had before.

“Sure? Because you look like you’re a second away from creating an experiment on the fragility of ceramics.”

His lips curve into a slight smile, but his attention remains fixed on the plates. With a quick but gentle movement, you slide your hands over to catch the wayward glass before it falls.

Viktor shoots you a look, his eyes shining with a mix of gratitude and resignation. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. Now, can you admit that you need help from time to time?”

He sighs, shaking his head as he continues on his way to the kitchen. “No. But I’ll let you believe it, this time.”

You roll your eyes in response.

“How about I wash them and you dry them?” he offers.

“Fine.”

You watch him sitting at the breakfast bar watching him thoroughly wash each plate, glass, and cutlery, drying his hands on a kitchen towel.

“All yours,” he says as he leaves the kitchen, which is too small for the two of them. “I’m going to go take a shower.”

“Do you want some company?” His figure tenses up like a cat, stopping only to turn around slightly to find a mischievous smile on your face.

“Nice try.” A stifled laugh escapes his lips before he disappears down the hall and it’s not long before you hear the sound of running water.

The dim light of the bathroom bathed the tense lines of Viktor's figure, reflecting his thinness and the sharp features that marked his skin. Viktor took off his shirt with slow, almost mechanical movements. He had always avoided looking at his nakedness in the mirror, the reflection of a weak man made him sick, but this time the mirror gave him a different image. When he took off his shirt he discovered that on his torso his ribs were barely noticeable, his abdomen was no longer sunken and even a tiny roll of fat had formed in the lower part. He was still thin, but when he touched him he felt muscles and not just his bones, his pale skin had taken on more softness and color. The wounds left by his corset had stopped being reddened furrows and were now barely noticeable.

He caressed his neck, slightly hunched, free of tension. The scars on his side, reminders of medical procedures, were no longer like cracks, but just soft marks.

As he unbuttoned his pants, he braced himself with one hand on the wall for balance. His outer brace trembled slightly. With a methodical movement, he removed the metal piece, carefully setting it aside, as if it were an extension of himself that he could not despise.

He felt like a different person, naked in front of the mirror, admiring a more vivid reflection of himself, his hands running over his muscles that were once tired and sore, now looking strong and energetic. He smiled a little, hesitantly. For the first time, he liked what he saw in the mirror and he knew who he had to thank for that.

Steam began to fill the room as he adjusted the water to hot for the comfort of his leg. Once naked, Viktor stood still for a moment, letting the moisture envelop his skin. His body, although marked by a certain fragility, radiated an unbreakable strength, feeling each scar with something other than disgust for the first time in a long time. His eyes closed, enjoying that shower like no other.

After finishing putting away the dishes, you peeked into the hallway. You found him sitting on the bed, wearing baggy pajama pants and his shirt covering his naked torso, his head in his hands and his eyes fixed on his leg. His posture was rigid, filled with a tension that you could almost feel in the air.

You didn't say anything at first, because you knew that what he needed wasn't words, but company. You approached silently, crossing the hallway and sat down next to him, placing a hand on his good knee.

"Does it hurt?" you finally asked, your voice barely a whisper.

Viktor nodded, not raising his head. "A little. There are times when... it feels like it's never going to go away." He internally cursed himself, the whole day had passed without problems, with barely any discomfort, he didn't understand why the pain decided to attack him right now, it was as if it was mocking him.

Your chest tightened at his vulnerability. You knew how much he hated showing weakness, even with you.

"Let me help…"

He stared at you for a moment, as if considering your words. He finally nodded with a sigh. You knelt in front of him, placing his leg over your lap, pushing his pajama bottoms up to his thigh, your cold fingers giving him goosebumps where you touched them. The internal mechanism of the device on his leg was simpler but no less aggressive, as you removed the straps you could hear small gasps coming from Viktor’s mouth, his hand crumpling the sheets beside him, his skin reddening as the pressure of the device disappeared. Once the device was off you followed the usual nightly ritual, sliding your hands up his leg, applying pressure to the right spot and massaging the tense muscles in his leg and foot, you were precise, almost surgical, as you moved your hands up his leg with extreme gentleness. At first his muscles were tense but slowly you felt them relax under your touch. Finally, the tense grimace changed to a placid, lazy expression of relief as the pain faded.

"Better…" he murmured after a while. His voice sounded calmer.

“See? I’m good at this.” you said as you stood up to sit beside him on his bed.

He laughed softly, his low, warm laugh filling the space. “Maybe I should hire you as my personal physical therapist.”

“You couldn’t pay me enough.” you teased, giving him a soft poke on his nose. “But lucky for you, I do this because I care about you.” Your hands slid down his back, taking the shirt with you, exposing his medical corset. It took you a little more technique to remove it, a couple of twists here and the movement of the levers on his shoulder blades were enough to make the heavy structure give way, pulling it over his head and leaving it on the floor under the nightstand. Your hands caressed his bare back, his skin pale as sweet milk and warm as the first rays of the sun in the day.

He took your hand then, bringing it to his lips to place a soft kiss on your fingers and murmur against them, “How lucky I am…”

“You have no idea…” you said, sliding your hand up his arm to his cheek. He looked totally sleepy but willing to simply adjust his posture and have your lips meet his in a slow, delicate brush, more sensation than intention. His messy hair falling over his forehead, tickling the bridge of your nose.

Without saying anything, his fingers slowly slide up your cheek, warm and a little clumsy, as if even in his sleepy state he wanted to make sure he touched you carefully. His thumb traces a small circle against your skin, and his lips, barely curved in a lazy smile, murmur your name, so low it almost seems like a sigh.

You lean into him, unable to resist the closeness he himself seeks. Viktor, so practical and rational during the day, now seems completely given over to the moment. The whole world had been reduced to that single point of contact.

There is no rush in the kiss, only a sweetness heavy with tiredness, as if sleep were pulling at him but he couldn’t help but stay with you a little longer. His lips are warm, soft, and his breathing, calm but irregular, mixes with yours.

When the kiss breaks you don’t know how, but you’ve ended up lying on the bed, his lips barely separating from yours, staying so close that you can feel the heat of his breath against your skin. His eyes half-closed, they look at you with a softness that melts any thought.

“I have a gift for you…” his voice is barely a whisper against your lips “Can you bring my bag please?” he asked, dragging one of your locks of hair behind your ear. You close your eyes, you're so comfortable that you don't want to separate from him. "Honey... please..." his words completely disarm you, the air leaves your lungs and you have to drag him back inside, it's the first time he calls you that...

You didn't expect it, you don't know what to do or say next. "I... amhmm... I... will go get your bag..." you murmur unsurely as you basically flee the room with your heart racing. You may have heard Viktor's giggle behind you but maybe it was just your nerves playing a bad joke on you.

When you returned with the bag to the room Viktor has lifted his torso from the bed and holds a small package wrapped excellently in ornate paper in his hands. You crawl to his side on the bed, cautiously dragging his bag, was sending you for it, a trick?

The air in the room is charged with a quiet expectation as Viktor leans forward slightly, holding a box wrapped in dark, elegant paper. His fingers, always careful, seem a little tenser than usual, as if the act of handing you the gift is more intimidating than he imagined.

“This is for you,” he says, his voice low but firm, though you notice the slight tremor in his words. He hands it to you, but doesn’t look directly at you; his eyes fixate on some indefinite spot, as if he’s not entirely sure how you’ll react.

You take the box, feeling the unexpected weight in your hands. You watch him, searching for some clue in his expression, but Viktor just crosses his arms, adopting a posture that could be interpreted as casual, though his slightly stiff shoulders give it away.

“Open it,” he murmurs, and his eyes finally meet yours, shining with a mix of nervousness and something deeper, something you can only describe as affection.

As you open the paper, you discover a retro-designed camera, impeccable, with a simple elegance that suits him perfectly. You blink, surprised, as he leans over to turn it on. Before you can ask, his hand rummages through his bag, showing you the small Hextech gem and to your utter astonishment he places it inside the camera mechanism. The room lights up for a moment before Viktor presses a button and the magic begins.

At first, music is the first thing you can hear, then like real magic you see a series of hologram images all around the room: you and him together at different moments, some captured in secret, others you remember clearly. Laughter, glances, small everyday gestures. Then, the photos change to your favorite things: books, landscapes, objects you love, letters you’ve never read written in his own handwriting, every detail carefully collected.

And then, his voice.

“My name is Viktor and…” he begins, his tone deep but soft, with that meticulous cadence that characterizes him. “This is for my dear Y/N. A record of shared moments, of laughter, of everything you represent to me, of everything she is and everything she have allowed me to be.”

Your eyes glaze over as the images continue: your first photo together, a romantic poem, even the portrait of you both that an artist had made on your first date after leaving the hospital, your favorite flowers, things only someone in love would choose.

“It’s an archive of memories,” his voice continues, “but also a reminder to me. That no matter how chaotic the world is, there’s always beauty in the small moments. And in all of these moments, there’s her.”

When the voice ends, the silence that remains is overwhelming, laden with emotions you can’t put into words. You look up at Viktor, who now seems unable to meet your gaze, his cheeks totally red.

“I wasn’t sure if it would be too much.." he admits, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “But I thought… maybe you’d like it. You’ve done so much for me…”

You lean into him, setting the camera aside, and wrap your hands around his neck. “Too much?” Viktor, this is perfect...”

His lips curve into a small but genuine smile, and even though he tries to hide it, you can see the relief and joy in his eyes. This gesture, so meticulous and full of love, is irrefutable proof of how much you mean to him.

The weight of what you just saw is still present in your chest, warm and overwhelming. The camera is off to the side, forgotten for the moment, because now all your attention is on him. Viktor is still in front of you, clearly nervous but trying to keep his composure, as if you don’t know how to handle your emotions at this moment.

“What’s wrong?” he asks quietly, with that analytical look that never seems to completely fade. But there’s something else in his eyes now: a mix of vulnerability and hope, as if he’s not sure if his gift had had the impact he expected.

You don’t need words to answer him.

You move toward him in one motion, your hands gripping the sides of his face before he can react. His skin is warm beneath your fingers, and for an instant, you can feel his breathing hitch, caught between wonder and anticipation.

“You’re amazing,” you murmur against his lips, and before he can process it, you kiss him.

The kiss is urgent, charged with everything you feel and everything you can’t put into words. It’s like you want to tear down any remaining doubts he might have about how much you love him. Your lips move with a desperate hunger, as if you’re seeking to etch into him every emotion he’s provoked in you.

It takes Viktor a second to react, but when he does, he kisses you back with equal intensity. His hands, ever careful, grip your waist, pulling you closer to him as if he needs to have you closer. There’s no longer any shyness in his movements, only the restrained passion of someone who’s been waiting for this moment without realizing it.

His breathing is fast, ragged, and you can feel his lips tremble slightly against yours, not out of insecurity, but from the torrent of emotions that overwhelms him. One of his arms wraps around you, while his other hand moves up to tangle in your hair, holding you with a firmness you’ve never felt from him before.

When you finally part, you’re both breathless. His eyes, normally calm and focused, now shine with a mix of wonder and devotion. His lips are red, and a smile, small but sincere, forms on his face.

“I wasn’t expecting that,” he says, his voice huskier than usual.

“Did it bother you?” you ask, still panting, your hands still on his face.

“Disturb me?..” Viktor lets out a soft laugh and shakes his head, his forehead touching yours. “I couldn’t. But… I might need another demonstration to be completely sure.”

His playful tone, combined with the way he looks at you, makes your heart race again. “Cheeky…” Without saying a word, your eyes drift to the camera still resting to the side. You take the camara with firm but hurried hands, turning it on as he looks at you with a mix of curiosity and confusion.

“What are you doing?” he asks softly, tilting his head.

“I want this saved too,” you reply with a mischievous smile, holding the camera in the air, above the both of you.

Before Viktor can react or say anything else, you lean towards him again on the bed, capturing his lips in a kiss filled with all the love you feel. This time, the kiss is more confident, more determined, as if you both know exactly what you mean to each other.

With the camera in one hand, you press the button, the click barely perceptible between the racing beat of your heart and the soft whisper of his breath against your lips.

When the kiss ends, you both stand there, foreheads together, sharing a soft laugh, as if the simple act of capturing that moment makes it even more special.

The photo joins the rest floating around the room, and you see the image: the two of you locked in a kiss, your hand holding the camera, his hair a little messy, and his face slightly tilted toward you, as if his entire world is contained in that instant.

“Perfect,” you say quietly, stroking your thumb along the edge of the camera before turning back to him.

Viktor looks at the photo, and though he doesn’t say anything, the soft smile on his face says it all. You grab the camera and add the image to the video, where that photo now sits as part of the collection. One more memory that encapsulates not only who you are, but what you mean to each other.

He looks at you once more, his golden eyes shining with something you could swear is pride. “I think this is my favorite memory so far,” he murmurs, taking your hand delicately, as if afraid the moment might fade away.

And in that instant, you know that no matter how much time passes, that photo—and this kiss—will always be unforgettable.

N/A: I'm sorry for the delay, my dog died and I didn't have the strength to do anything other than be in bed. I really hope you like it and it was what you expected.

[tiredmamaissy]

AHHH YOURE SO GOOD AT MAKING THESE PICS FUCK

Little Secret

Masterlist ; Rut/Heat/Knotting Info

🔞 minors, do not interact 🔞

Characters: jake sully x na’vi reader x lo’ak sully

Warnings: nsfw, explicit smut, profanity, dub-con(?), heat cycle, dark/mr.stealyourgirl Jake, poor clueless Lo’ak, fingering, ab riding, oral sex (f receiving), infidelity, p in v

Word Count: 4.6k

Requested: Yes || No

Author’s Note: I had to make it fair, you know, since Jake stole Neteyam’s mate. I’m just in my dark era, guys I’m sorry. Also, @jakexneytiri practically wrote this. This is for you, bestie. I love you and your big, juicy, sexy brain, I just wanna give it a big smooch.

Synopsis: Lo’ak is away on a two-day hunting trip, and you unexpectedly go into heat. Good thing the Olo’eyktan finds you before anyone else does.  

“Are you sure? I can stay back.” Lo’ak breaks the kiss, cupping your cheek.

“Yes, Lo’. My heat won’t come for a few more days.” you smile softly, hands resting on his chest.

Just a few more eclipses and your heat would be here. As much as you wanted your mate to stay with you, you knew it was important that he goes on this two-day hunting trip. Supplies were low and he was one of the few warriors in the clan equipped to travel far distances. You nudge him towards the door, but he stands firm, resisting your pushes.

“My love.” He rests his hands over yours, giving them a gentle squeeze.

“Ma’ Lo’ak.” you say, eyes of innocence peering up into his.

“I can smell you.” he growls, briefly holding his breath to savour your faint scent.

His four words send shivers down your spine, hot breath prickling your skin. You could already feel your body’s arousal as the blood rushes to your cheeks, staining them a tinge of pink. You nibble on your bottom lip, chest tightening from the lustful eyes that bore into yours.

“Then you better hurry up and come back, alright?” you kiss him quickly and nudge him with shaky hands once more.

“So eager to get rid of me, huh? What? Have another na’vi coming to see you once I’m gone?” he chuckles, slowly retreating to the makeshift door.

“You know I don’t like when you make those jokes, Lo’ak.” you chide, offended that he thinks you’d do such a thing.

“Yeah, yeah. And what if I didn’t have anything against it?” he mumbles as you shove his shoulder, spinning him around to face the door. “Just as long as I get to remind you who’s really owns you after.”

Your tongue clicks in frustration. “Go, before the hunting party leaves you. Again.” you huff, giving him a final shove out the door.

----

Rousing from your deep slumber, you find that the dryness in your eyes makes it difficult to open them. You groan, not feeling nearly as rested as you should after such a long nap. The grogginess is so overwhelming that your eyelids feel like two bags of sand, weighing heavily on your face. Lethargy so potent it slumps you into a torpor trance, ebbing away whatever consciousness you have remaining.  

Just like that, you fall into yet another cycle of sleep.

A few more hours pass, the eclipse now in full bloom. A familiar dopiness washes over you, lips cracked and dry from hours and hours of no hydration. You attempt to swallow, only for you to struggle to gather any spit to wad together. That’s when another familiar sensation quickly sets in. One where your body heats up from the inside out, starting at the core of your being, radiating to your extremities. Accompanied by intense dizziness, you could barely piece together a coherent thought. Screams echo in your head, demanding for ‘water, water, water’. You try to shuffle to your feet, only for them to give out, causing you to tumble back onto the mat beneath you.

Sitting in an utter state of bewilderment, you force open your unfocused eyes, trying your best to scan your tent with blurred vision. “Lo’ak?” you croak out a dry throat, only to remember that he’s not here. “Ah. Right...” you think aloud, using the back of your hand to feel your forehead. “’s so hot.” you mumble to yourself, giving your forehead a quick swipe, beads of sweat now dripping down your forearm.

Do I have a fever? I don’t feel good.

A heaviness takes over your body, limbs growing weightier by the second. Soon you’re lying on your back, trying your best to wriggle out of whatever flimsy cloth you have plastered onto your skin. The knot on your loincloth is so tight, your fingers fumble around trying to untie it. Frustration brews deep in your chest, overflowing with nowhere else to go but up and out your throat in a loud grunt.

With sweat dripping in your eyes, you practically go blind – double vision now setting in. “Fuck.” you cry out, giving up on trying to untie the knot and just going for the easier route – pulling it down your legs. You hook your fingers under the band of your garments, pulling and tugging it to the best of your abilities. But your attempts prove to be futile, thanks to the heaviness of your body, you’re only able to get it about halfway down.

At this rate you’re panting and squirming around trying to get these soaked things off your hot body. You huff loudly, frustration only growing stronger by the second. Quickly moving up to your top, you slip it down your chest, exposing your breasts. A cool, refreshing breeze wafts through the flap of your tent, hardening your nipples into peaks. Eywa, did that feel good.

Your entire body prickles in fervour, heating up to a dangerous degree. You could no longer deny the way you feel – your arousal. The slick seeping from your folds is evidence of it. It coats your thighs the more you rub them together, making a mess on not only yourself but the woven mat beneath you. With your loincloth around your knees, you find it difficult to spread your legs. All you can manage to do is shove your shaky hand between your thighs to try and bring some sort of relief to yourself.

It's like an itch. An itch so deep that you can’t scratch it, no matter how hard you try – no matter how many fingers you use. Your digits fondle with your sensitive clit, doing their upmost best to establish some sort of rhythm in their strokes. The frustration boiling in your chest doesn’t help, it only makes it more difficult to do it properly – to make yourself cum. Your breaths turn raggedy, volume increasing with each swipe of your clit.

The pressure in your chest is immense. It’s like you’re about to implode if you don’t release the tension. Drool dribbling down your cheek, you curl into a ball for better access to your slit. All three fingers eagerly part your folds, prodding at your hole. You bundle them together, shifting your pelvis forward to sink them inside you.

“Ohh!” you let loose a loud, sudden moan, finally feeling some of the pressure release. With no strength to work your fingers, you lazily hump your hand, sliding them in and out of your cunt. You can’t help but let your heavy-lidded eyes close, allowing you to focus on the sensation budding in your womb. It feels so empty – so hollow. You just need to be stuffed to the brim and filled up.

All you can think about is your mate. The two braids that hang freely in front of his face, his brawny stature, his big hands, and lengthy fingers. The things you’d do to have them inside you right now, furling right into your g-spot, satiating that annoying itch deep inside you. Just the mere thought of it quickly turns your ragged breaths into lengthy whines and whimpers as you try to imitate your mate’s touches.

----

Jake dismounts his beast, stroking its tough exterior in efforts to calm him. He had just come back from a stressful meeting about the sky people and their upcoming agenda. With their return, things have become arduous; hunting parties have been targeted on a regular basis, making it difficult to hunt in familiar, well-known areas. Therefore, the stronger, more equipped warriors have been venturing farther out to hunt, typically for a few days at a time, leaving the clan under the protection of Olo’eyktan.

Making quick strides towards the tents, he overhears high-pitched noises. Ears perking up, his head turns to the source of the whimpering and whining. If anyone is in any sort of trouble, it is his duty as Olo’eyktan to help. He follows the noises, only to be led to his son’s tent. Three na’vi men surround the hut, all facing one another, seeing who will back down first. “Men.” the Olo’eyktan speaks, breaking the tension. Their heads snap towards Jake, acknowledging his presence by signing ‘I see you’. “What’s going on here?” Jake asks, hands resting on his hips.

“Someone has left their mate in heat, sir.” one of the men responds.

Jake’s heart skips a beat. If this is his son’s tent, then surely the na’vi in heat is...you.

Seeing these three men linger around you triggers his possessive instincts, or perhaps it was your pheromones wafting past his nose. Either way, he didn’t like the crowd around your tent. “Erm.” he clears his throat, “I will take it from here.” he mutters. The men hesitate to leave, all looking at one another like a new challenger has arrived. “Dismissed!” Jake shouts, startling the men.

“Yes, sir.” they say in unison, bowing their heads and retreating.

----

“Y/n?” Jake’s faint voice is muffled by your lengthy mewls and squelching noises you’re working out of your cunt. “Ah, shit.” he curses, hand flying up to cover his nose. “Y/n.” he calls out once more, approaching your trembling body with caution. “You in heat, sweetheart?”

“L-lo’ak? Is that y-you?” you pant, seeing a blurry tall figure approach you – eyelids too heavy to open fully. “I-I can’t take this anymore. I can’t – I can’t do it. ‘ts too much. too much. too much.” your teeth chatter as the words dislodge from your dry throat. “P-please. I-I... hah... ah - need help. Please. Please. Please.”, you desperately hump your slick coated hand. “Ngh - need... ugh – need w-water, lo’, please.”

Jake clicks his tongue at the sight of you squirming around with your loincloth halfway down your legs, trying to bring relief to yourself. “How long have you been like this, baby girl? Where is that boy? Hm?” he coos, fetching a cup of water.

He kneels beside you, feeling your sweaty forehead with the back of his hand. “You’re burnin’ up, look at ya. That boy leaving you in heat alone.” he mutters, shaking his head in disappointment. “C’mere, drink for me.” he hoists you into his lap, your fingers still hooked inside you as you nuzzle into him.

He perches your head in the dip of his arm and brings the cup to your chapped lips, watching you eagerly lap up the water. It feels so good, so refreshing – like putting ice on a burn. “M-more Lo’ak.” you mumble, clawing at the wrist holding the cup to your mouth, trying to tip more out of it.

“It’s not Lo’ak, baby girl. It’s Jake.” Jake speaks gently, pulling his hand from your grasp to get more water for you.

Jake? The – the Olo’eyktan? Oh Eywa.

“Here.” he tilts the cup to your lips once more, watching you quench your undying thirst. “Atta girl, y’must be hungry too.” he puts down the cup, “What do you need, hm?” he coos, swiping away the stands of hair stuck to your face.

“N-need. Need.” you blubber, hips spasming uncontrollably against your hand. “I-I need, m-my mate. Need. Ne – ngh! S-sir, ‘m so – oh! s-sorry.”

“It’s alright. You’re okay. ‘m gonna call for him now.” He presses the microphone on his throat comm, paging for his son.

“Boy. You really left your mate in heat? Get your ass here. Now.” He whispers harshly, lips curling over his teeth.

“She’s – what? Shit. Yes sir. Coming now.” Lo’ak responds.

Jake huffs out a sigh, eyes drawn to your sticky hand working at your pussy. He watches you struggle a little, fingers barely halfway inside you, covered in a glossy layer of slick. He could tell that the cloth binding your legs together is only making it more difficult for you to fuck yourself. Call it pity, or just plain corruption, but he wanted to help you so, so badly.

“Just gonna help you take this off, alright?” he hums, fiddling with the taut knot on your loincloth. Once the knot becomes undone, your legs snap open, aphrodisiac scent filling the tent. He couldn’t help himself, he had to look – to look at the soft flesh between your legs. It’s obvious his body is succumbing to the influence of your heat, warming up alongside you as you plunge your fingers deeper into yourself.

Meanwhile, you can’t help but whine and whimper, squirming around in his lap as you try to find a better position to hump at your hand. The frustration in your chest has budded into something else completely, something that’s making you feel feverish in your head. All you could think about was your desire, no– your need to be stuffed. You just needed to scratch that maddening itch, to put out that menacing flame.

Your fingers feel so raw and rubbed out, yet so numb at the same time. But you simply couldn’t bring yourself to take them out of you, to allow for the empty sensation to creep back in. Blood now simmering under your skin, you needed him to help you. Your free hand reaches out for his wrist, using it as leverage to place his hand onto your clammy chest. It snaps his gaze up to yours, searching your delirious, watery eyes.

“Hey, hey. No need to cry, alright? Try use your words, sweetheart. Tell me what ya need and I’ll get it for you.” he coos, face screwed with concern.

“Need – need help. Need help.” you repeat franticly, tugging his stiff hand down to your stomach. “’s not enough!” you blurt out, frustrated that he’s resisting your tugs.

“y’not yourself, y/n.” he even struggles to say the words, brows gathering to wrinkle his forehead. “’m not your mate, sweetheart.”

“Please.” you let out a pained whine, ignoring his warning as you tug even harder at his hand. “It – it hurts, sir.”  

He grimaces at your vulnerable, carnal state. Blood rushes to his face, flushing his cheeks the more your pheromones smother him. He tries to hold his breath – his poor attempt to maintain his composure, but your scent is too potent now that you’re in the thick of your heat. Unable to deny his own arousal, evident in the tautness of his loincloth, he finds himself giving in, taking long, deep breathes to savour your sweet, sweet scent.

“God. You smell so fuckin’ good.” Succumbing to the influence of your heat, he yields to your little tugs, allowing his hand to slowly slide down to your stomach.

“Sir. Sir, please. I-I can’t take it... anymore” you hiccup, fingernails digging into his skin. “I-I need... ngh... haah.” you struggle with your words, allowing for your tugs to speak on your behalf.

“Say it.” he growls, slipping his hand down your sticky pelvis, grasping your slender wrist. “Say it so I can help you, baby girl.” the eager words slip out just as his eyes meet yours, insisting you give your spoken consent first.

“I-I need them inside, sir... right here, please” you pant, spreading your trembling legs for him.

“Right here?” he utters innocently, gently pulling your fingers out of your cunt, exposing your slit.  

“Yes! Yes sir! H-hurry, please. ‘m so, so empty. It – it hurts.” you whine loudly, hips bucking on their own.

“Shh. Shh. ‘m gonna help you now.” he hushes you, sliding his palm over your pussy. “But we keep this our little secret, yeah?”

“Y-yes sir!” you sob, rolling your hips against his hand, coating it with a thick layer of your slick.

“Call me Jake.” he breathes, sliding two fingers inside of you. “Shit. So tight. So wet. Jesus, you’re soaked. You’re really in heat, aren’t you?” he fingers you roughly, furling and unfurling his digits into your sweet spot, expertly working out sloppy, squelching noises from your cunt.

“Oh fuck – Jake!” a loud, needy moan splits your lips. Fuck, did it feel so good. You’ve been unintentionally edging yourself this entire time, unable to reach this part of yourself with your own fingers. Not to mention the fact that Jake’s fingers are much, much thicker, and lengthier than yours. You couldn’t hold back the lewd noises evading your mouth.

“Yeah, right there? Look at you, making a mess on my fingers.” he chuckles, forearm becoming veiny from how roughly he’s fingering you. Your hips rolled against his hand, rubbing your clit against his callused palm as you chased your fast approaching climax. You yearned for it so badly that you allowed your body to take over for you, fucking his fingers as if it were his Lo’ak’s cock.

Oh, Lo’ak.

“i-is Lo’ak coming?” you barely get out, feeling your walls flutter around his fingers.

“Yeah, he’s coming, but I think you are too.” Jake smirks, feeling your heat spasm around his digits. “Go on, cum f’me.” Just like that, your sweet nectar coats his fingers, body convulsing uncontrollably in his lap as you release silent screams into the air. “Juust like that, good girl.” he hums, quickly pulling his fingers out of you to have his taste of you. “Jesus, you taste just how you smell.”

All you can feel is the ache of your womb, craving to be filled to the brim – the throb of your clit, begging to be stroked. Thick of your heat clouding your head, the emptiness creeps back in tenfold. Still having no control over your own body, you find yourself mounting Jake. Everything feels like a blur, hazy vision and dizziness take over, and before you know it you’ve knocked him onto his back.

“’m s-sorry” you hiccup, hips situating themselves on his stomach.

“Don’t be sorry. Do whatever you need, baby girl.” he reassures you, watching as your hands settle on his chest, supporting your heavy body as you grind into him.

At every rock, you coat his abs with your slick, and soon you were gliding back and forth on his stomach with ease. Each bump from his abs was hitting your clit just right, making you press yourself further onto him, pulsing clit desperate for the friction. “Want some help, sweetheart?” he asks, voice feigned with innocence.

You nod in a frantic manner, brows pinched as you hold your breath. He slides his hand up to grip your thigh, thumb lightly drawing tight circles into your clit. The little shocks shooting through your clit wind you, leaving you breathless. Your eyes slam shut, as you focus on the feeling budding in your womb once more and fuck, you just couldn’t stop the buck of your hips. Tiny, sweet mewls evade your lips as you grind into him once more. “Breathe f’me, y/n.”

Hearing the Olo’eyktan say your name in that way brings you back momentarily, eyes snapping open as a breath of air fills your lungs. “There you go. Don’t want you passin’ out on me.” he chuckles breathily, pressing his thumb into your clit a little harder. Jake’s eyes widen as he watches you leak all over him, slick dripping down the sides of his stomach. “Fuck. Gonna have to rehydrate you if you keep making a mess on me like that, sweet girl.”

“’m sorry, s-sir, mmn Jake.” you moan breathlessly, so, so close to cumming all over his stomach.

Jake hears a buzz of static in his right ear. “Dad? How is she? I’ll be there when the sun comes out.” Lo’ak chimes in through Jake’s earpiece.

“Need you to be quiet f’me, alright sweetheart?” he coos, edging you by slowing the pace of his strokes, only making you rock into him harder.

“She’s doing so well.” he praises you, voice bouncing with every thrust of your hips.

“Okay, dad. T-tell her I love her and that I’m sorry.” Lo’ak’s voice cracks.

“Alright, son. I will.” Jake utters under the trance of your heat, removing his hand from the microphone to place it on your other hip.

“Look at you, squirming around tryna make yourself cum. Want my help?” he asks, already manhandling your hips to yank you up to sit on his face. You look down through blurry vision as he situates his face between your thighs. His warm tongue feels so good that you can’t help but wiggle your hips down onto him, grinding into him. He takes every hump with fervour, lapping up whatever sweet nectar leaks into his mouth.

“S-top.” your breath hitches, word slipping out broken and hoarse. “m’gonna cum in your mm-mouth.” Jake squeezes your hips tighter and shoves your cunt further into his face, silently encouraging you to just do it already.

So, you do.

“Jake.” a little whimper parts your lips, “J-jake. ‘s c-coming.” your breath hitches, “Jake!” you cry out, feeling your walls clench around nothingness as the coil in your abdomen suddenly snaps in two. A pleased hum vibrates low in his chest as he follows each thrust of your hips, letting you ride out your orgasm on his face. Slumping over, you hold on to his hair, thighs closing around his face.

He couldn’t take it anymore. His cock throbbed so painfully in his loincloth he really felt like he was about to cum just from hearing you cry his name. The taut material was slick from his own arousal as precum oozed from his tip. He begins to thrust into the air, each squeeze of his hips rubbed his cock just right against his loincloth. He grunts into your cunt, hands sliding their way up your hips to your waist, using it as leverage to pull you off his face with a -pwah-. He gasps for air as he lies you flat on your back, positioning his covered crotch right at the swell of your ass.

All this rubbing just wasn’t enough, you needed something inside you – something to stuff you until you feel queasily full. But all you can think about is your Lo’ak. How you want his cock. How you wish the hardened bulge pressing firmly against your pussy lips was his, and not his fathers. But, oh fuck did his fathers cock feel so good, nestling itself between your plump folds. You just wanted him to fuck into you, right now. Your body wanted it more – it was evident in the way that your hips spasmed against him, trying their best to burrow this clothed bulge inside you.

“Whatcha doing, sweetheart? Tryna fuck me through my loincloth?” he chuckles, pushing back your legs until your knees brush against your flushed cheeks – exposing your glistening, soft pussy. “God. So fuckin’ pretty.” he swipes all four fingertips from your hole up to your clit, rubbing the bundle of nerves just right. “Hah. ‘m kinda jealous.” he admits, your heat heightening his territorial instincts.

Oddly, your body only seems to be growing hotter. It feels as if your skin is sizzling under his cool, sensual touches, making the tears stream down your face at a faster rate, “’s not enough... not enough... really – ugh! pleasee” you beg through a whine, not even knowing what for.

Jake knows. He knows exactly what you want – what you need. But he needs you to say the words first – to give him your permission to sink his cock inside you. And until you said those words, he’d continue to restrain himself from doing anything you didn’t outwardly beg for. He wraps your legs around his hips before wiping away your tears with his thumbs.

“Oh, sweetheart. No need for those. Tell daddy what you need. C’mon, use your words.” he huffs, his own hips moving on their own accord – grinding into the softness of your pussy.

“Need you.” you pant, tugging at the band of his loincloth.

“Need me where, baby girl?”

“Inside! Need y-you inside me!” you blurt out, frustration so thick in your chest.

He didn’t even have the willpower to respond to you, as he finds himself franticly slipping down his loincloth just enough for his painfully hard cock to spring out, his tip swiping between your pussy lips before slapping against his belly. Holding the base of his length, he lines himself up with your entrance.

“Our little secret, right?”

“Yes” you pant, pelvis shifting to desperately sink down onto his length.

“Oh, fuck. So fuckin’ tight.” he groans lowly, head slumping forward the second his tip kisses your cervix. The more your walls clench around him, the more his restraint dissipates. His hips begin to move on their own, sticky pelvises languidly smacking into one another. Eyes glancing up to yours, he notices the sheer desperation in your eyes and quickly picks up the pace – fucking into you like an animal.

Your filthy moans catch in your throat, mouth agape as your brows gather. He’s so big, bigger than Lo’ak, touching parts of you that have never been touched before. It’s what you’ve been wanting, no – needing, to be stuffed like this, filled to the brim that you could feel it in your stomach. He angles his hips, jamming his swollen tip right into your swelling g-spot. It heavenly – so blissful that you could already feel that coil in your abdomen twist so tightly it’ll snap in two once more.

He can feel it too, the tightening of his core – the swift approach of his own climax. He ruts into you faster, focus shifting from your pleasure to his. He’s so overcome by the influence of your heat that the only thing echoing in his mind is to breed you. He just wants to flood your insides with his hot seed so badly, to mark you as his. It’s silly really, he had Neytiri in his tent waiting for his arrival, yet here he was thinking about knocking up his son’s mate.

“Want me to cum inside you? Get you pregnant, my little secret?”  he pants heavily, thrusts becoming shorter yet deeper, and soon he’s grinding into your cunt, rubbing his pelvic bone against your clit.

“N-no, no. Don’t.” you mumble, yet your hips push back into his thrusts, trying to drill his cock into your womb so he could empty himself inside you.

“But your body is tellin’ me otherwise, baby girl.” he chuckles breathily, feeling your walls heat up around his cock. “You better cum before I do.” he huffs, giving your clit a single swipe – sending you over the edge. You gush all over his stomach, walls pulsating feverishly around his cock, doing their best to milk his seed into your womb as your body shudders underneath him.

You shake your head from side to side, haziness of your heat finally lifting from feeling so full. “Don’t c-cum in me, sir. Please” you hiccup, consciousness slipping away as he grinds into you.

“Jesus, fuck. You’re squeezin’ me just right. Gonna breed this little fucking pussy of yours. Make you mine.” he gives you a deep thrust, before barely pulling out of you in time to spill his warm seed all over your stomach. He rides out the last lap of his high in his hand as guttural, lengthy groans evade his lips. His head snaps up to see the sun’s rays shine through the cracks of the tent – Lo’ak would be here any minute.

He quickly fixes his loincloth before tying yours back around you. Going for a bucket of clean water and a cloth, he starts cleaning off your stomach. He tries to keep a straight face, pretending to cool you off with the cloth as he hears rustling behind him – the flap of the tent opening. He tries not the budge when he hears his son’s voice pierce the air.

“Thank you... for taking care of her, dad.” Lo’ak’s hushes his voice, realizing that you’re sleeping.  

“It was no problem at all, she was a good girl. Handled it very well.” Jake mutters, plopping the cloth back into the water as he stands up. “I’ll leave ya to it, son.” he pats Lo’ak’s shoulder as he walks past him.  

--

Tags:@jakexneytiri @sweethoneycn @deadgirl02 @keijis-wifey @pandorxx @swiftielivvie @teyamfangirl @avatar-lover @sooebear @vanillawhale @bxnnywriting @athenachu @trashboat-the-raccoon @avaixe @qweq-6802 @rodeosayu @girlpostingsposts @erinloversworld @agelsully @zetey @raaaaainn  @eywascall @yawneneteyam @weirdomcu @pandxrastars @eichenhouseproperty @camgod78 @kibiscribbles @bedofpearls @kurtsworld096 @audrinawf @otukirey @deexdeez @c78r @bby-bo @neteyamsmate4life @wheniseeyouigogonutz @sullymenrhot @jakescumdump @erenjaegerwifee @eywaheardyou @saturnheartz @lovekeeho @afro-hispwriter @lovemyavatar @rainbowsocks @eddiesluvt @etherialblackrose @sleepilysworld @fezandashgirlfriend @kahlowy @babyymeme @lovekeeho @ilove444sworld @kaixiio @becksimagination @ameliestsblog @theycallmesia @boooogieman @fanboyluvr @boohoobaby @that-one-lightskin @st-cass @jakesully-sbabygirl @urfavgirlmakenna @zaddyskye69 @doggyteam2028 @iikatsukii @netemoon @onmyknees4loak @1-800-not-simping @khamaniix @littlelilies

[endlessthxxghts]

Do You Like It Here?

Joel Miller x afab!Reader || W/C: 2k

Summary: Joel contemplates shaving his beard. You are absolutely against that idea, and he makes you explain why.

Content/Warnings: Pics above are for aesthetic purposes only. Neutral descriptions of an AFAB reader (“your top”, “your shorts”, “your breast”, etc.). No use of “y/n”. Joel can carry you but there are no other descriptions of reader. Implied age gap if you squint. Joel being big and burly. SMUT 18+ MDNI. Joel being a menace. Hints of body worship. Dirty talk. Reader liking facial hair for dirty reasons🤷🏻. Joel on his knees for you…. ✨Bathroom counter✨ Cunnilingus. Tongue fucking. Face grinding. Hair pulling (m receiving). Joel’s fucking nose deserves a warning😵‍💫 Allusions to further sexual activity. As always, let me know if I’ve missed anything!

A/N: Can we tell how much I think about Joel eating pussy?💚 My sweet sweet Roman Empire. Enjoy. :-)

MASTERLIST || NOTIF BLOG -> @endlessnotifs

“Should I shave it off?” 

You choke on your own spit, eyebrows hitting the ceiling. “What?”

“My beard. All this scruff. Should I shave it?” Joel asks you, his thumb and forefinger rubbing against his jaw, his eyes surfing his jawline in the mirror much too critically for your liking. 

“Do you want to?” You reply back, curious to understand what is going on in that chaotic mind of his. 

“No? Yeah? I mean,” he breathes. “I dunno. A lotta white is startin’ to come through, ‘n I feel like it makes me look… raggedy.” 

You frown. “Baby,” you say softly. 

You woke up before Joel, last night’s activities knocking him out cold right after you two cleaned each other up. Unfortunately for you, no matter how hard you fell into your slumber, your body always woke you no later than 7am. It was a blessing and a curse. You decided a shower was in order. 

As soon as you finished and got dressed, your burly, grumpy and sleepy baby of a man stumbled into the bathroom. Wanting his presence always, you hopped up on the bathroom counter, your legs hanging off the edge, and stayed with him as he continued his morning routine. It was after he brushed his teeth and washed his face that he posed his question to you. 

You place your hand on his jaw and pull him closer so he’s standing in between your legs. The light press of your fingertips never leave his face. “You don’t look raggedy,” you scold. “You look… well, you look fuckin’ sexy, for one. I love this look on you,” you admit, a little sheepish. Your eyes scan his facial hair once more before you glance at his eyes, then to his lips. Your finger traces his bottom lip. “So fuckin’ sexy,” you mutter, emphasizing your claim.

You don’t have to look into his eyes to know his demeanor shifted. You can feel the way his gaze darkened. He pulls himself closer to you, his knees knocking the cabinets. His hand starts on your knee, dragging it up your thigh and up your side until it settles on your jaw, his fingers grasping your chin to make you meet his eye. “Oh, is that so, darlin’?”

You gulp, your head softly nodding at his words; unable to speak as your eyes gloss over. “What else d’ya love about it, darlin’?” He pushes, his fingers tightening on your chin—words, he’s telling you. 

You can feel every part of your body heat up. “It…it…” you stutter. His eyebrow flicks up with a faintness only you’d catch. You clear your throat in hopes it makes you speak up. “You- you’re already so big ‘n broad, ‘n this… the scruff… it just adds to- to you,” you tell him shakily, your brain starting to flood with just how much you love his facial hair. “P-plus, it- oh my god,” you whine, unable to stop the spew of shit that’s about to fly out of your mouth. “It feels so good when it rubs against my thighs ‘n my-” you gasp. You don’t remember when it got there, but his other hand is gripping your thigh, his strength tightening at the last words that fell from your lips.

Slow, tantalizingly slow, he leans in. He places a lengthy kiss to your lips; your eagerness gets the best of you as you try and deepen it, but he’s already breaking away—moving down. His lips grace your jaw, your neck—more open-mouthed and needy these ones are, and he pauses. “Ya like how it feels here?” He says against your neck. Then he’s moving lower. 

He peppers kisses along your shoulder and the exposed parts of your chest your top shows. He licks and sucks at a particular sweet spot atop your breast. A breathy little moan escapes you, your arms falling limp to your sides—and out of his way. He pauses his kiss to breathe you in. Lavender. Vanilla. The shower you just finished still clinging deliciously to your skin. “Ya like it here, too, don’tcha?” He places one more kiss on the mark he just gave you, not giving you a moment to respond. 

Then. He’s falling to his knees. Today was supposed to be a lazy day for you two, so you settled on solely a pair of sleep shorts. Nothing more. His hands settle themselves underneath your thighs, scooting you as close to the edge as possible without making you off balance. He’s so tall that on his knees, his nose is belly button level with you. 

He pushes your thighs open. Starting at your knee, he places a swift kiss there. The higher he goes, the wetter and slower they become. A drop of sweat beads down your neck. His hands make their way to your sides, fingers dancing along the waistband. He meets your eyes for a silent confirmation. Planting your hands behind you for stability, you lift your hips for him, a whimpered please leaves your mouth. 

He pulls your shorts off slowly—the wetness staining the center of your shorts peels off of you, the cold air interacting with your slick sends a shiver down your spine. Joel lets your shorts fall to the floor beside him, his eyes darting to your glistening sex. “Fuckin’ wet,” he growls. “All worked up from my white beard? My old age?”

“‘S not what I meant,” you sputter, the kiss he places to your mound throwing you off-kilter. His hands grab onto your waist and he’s angling your hips forward, giving himself a full view of you. He does it again—kisses your sex—but this time, he puts his whole face into you as he uses his tongue to aid him, his scruff tickling all around, on your thighs, your clit. Your hips buck into his face at the sensation, a louder moan reverberating against the bathroom walls. 

“Oh,” Joel smirks. “Right there, huh. Ya like the way it feels right there? Right there on that sweet, perfect fuckin’ cunt, huh? Drives you mad? Wild?” He teases. 

You lament at his words, conflicted between which you want more—hearing his mouth or feeling his mouth? You're pulled from your internal battle when you feel yourself become impossibly wetter: a glob of warm spit lands right where you need him most. Fuck, fuck, fuck, yeah okay, you want to feel him. 

One hand behind you leaves from its place and reaches for his curls in an attempt to pull him into you. “Joel, baby, please,” you cry. 

His head doesn’t budge no matter how strong you are. “Nuh uh,” he tuts. “Tell me what I wanna hear,” he tells you. “Tell me what I wanna hear first, and then I’ll give it t’ya exactly, baby. Just be the good girl I know y’are f’me.”

“F-fuck. Fuck. Please, Joel, please-” you say impatiently. “I love the way it feels when I grind my fuckin’ pussy all over your face, baby, I love how it feels when it starts to burn against my thigh, the way it nudges and scrapes every part of me- it makes me feel like I’m on fuckin’ fire, baby, please,” you rasp.

“Atta girl, darlin’,” he coos, licking his lips before his hands pull you flush against his face, his tongue flying straight to your seam, licking a messy path that sends your slick and his spit everywhere. Instantly your head flies back, your hand curls into the roots of his hair once more as you moan and squirm against his grasp. 

Joel loves spending his time down there, but regardless of the fact, you’ll never get used to how fucking good he makes you feel. Joel is ruthless when it comes to eating you out—always making you see stars even in the light of day. 

“F-fuck, j-just like that, baby,” you pant, your one arm keeping you up threatening to lose balance at the greedy touch of his skillful tongue. He drags his muscle from your entrance and up to your clit, running circles and figure eights on it for a moment before he latches onto you—his lips completely wrapped as he suckles and continues to flick where you’re most sensitive. His dominant hand leaves your hip and he drags his fingers to your opening, his middle finger sliding in with ease—the sensation sending you to the edge of something white, hot, and all-consuming. 

“I’m- I’m gonna cum, Joel, shit, I’m gonna cum-” you squeak, your entire body feeling flushed at his actions. 

He pulls his finger out of you, his hand finding its rightful place perched against your hip as he pulls you impossibly closer once again, your ass nearly hanging off the bathroom counter, his grip the only thing keeping you up. Your arm loses its strength and you fall limp, your head thumping against the bathroom mirror, completely at the disposal of your man as he ravishes your sobbing pussy.

He lifts off your clit momentarily. “Give it t’me, sweet girl,” he tells you in a frenzy. His mouth is on you again, his tongue going straight to your hole—his tongue pushes inside of you as much as he can, his face pulled tightly against you. He begins moving, advancing his tongue in and out as you mindlessly begin grinding against face. With every upward push of your hip, his nose nudges at your clit and the pure ecstasy that washes through you is evident in the way you’re practically mewling above him, your obscene moans and gasps enough to make Joel’s hips thrust into nothing on their own accord in an attempt to seek some kind of relief. 

More arousal pours from you, and Joel is quick to drink it up. You can feel the way his tongue flexes as he gulps, and fuck, that is what sends you reeling. You yank onto his hair tighter, driving your hips into his face at a ravenous pace—practically fucking his face—and then it hits you. Eyes rolling to the back of your head as your back arches in this awkward angle, your orgasm hits you hard. It’s without warning, heart-pounding, toe-curling, addicting, and everything Joel. 

Your lips are babbling nothing coherent, the occasional drop of his name escaping your mouth as he continues to fuck you through your high. He’s moving much slower now, much more precise—as if he’s doing this solely for his benefit now, not yours. Which, you don’t mind. Even as you start to slip into overstimulating territory, you don’t want him to stop. 

You’d lay at his mercy for him to use you in any way he pleases if it meant you got to experience what it means to be loved by a man like Joel. With him, it’s all or none—none of that half in, half out bullshit. No, when Joel loves, he loves hard, and it’s evident in everything he does for you. Especially when it comes to your pleasure. 

A particular lick to your clit causes you to yelp out in a pleasurable pain, so Joel finally rises again, kissing your spent cunt one last time before he pulls you up, rubbing up and down your spine to ease the uncomfortable position you were in. 

“You okay?” Joel asks, slight concern and slight amusement on his features as he looks at your face. Pure bliss and contentment fills your features; he can still see the fog clearing from your head. 

“Yeah,” you mutter softly, a lazy grin plastered on your cheeks as you look up at his shiny face. Weakly, you bring your arms up and wrap them around his neck, pulling him in to kiss you. He takes the hint, and he bends down, letting your lips meet in a soft yet enthusiastic embrace. You love the way you taste, especially when it comes from his mouth. 

Pulling away breathless, both your and Joel’s eyes are aflame again. 

“Don’t shave, baby.”

“I won’t, darlin’.” 

You kiss him once more before he wraps your legs around his waist and carries you back to bed. 

You were wrong. It’s going to be a busy day after all.

A/N: Thank you so much for reading, and I hope it made your private parts tingle you enjoyed💚 If you’d like to be notified for upcoming fics, follow my notif blog!

@pedrostories

[all-purpose-dish-soap]

TF141 & sexy clothes

Gaz absolutely supports you wearing whatever you feel sexy in. however, in his heart of hearts, he believes the sexiest thing you can wear around him is your pjs, your ratty old tees, your sleep shirts, your big hoodies, your slouchy garbage clothes. he just wants to know you're comfortable. not to mention the idea of you letting him see you the way nobody else gets to... letting yourself be totally vulnerable around him... that lights up a certain (slightly needy) (slightly possessive) part of his brain. interesting how easily his hands can slide past the hem of your clothes when they're bigger and slouchier, too.

Ghost loves lingerie, though. like wrapping a present just for him. it's less about the lace (or the bows, or the straps, or the leather, whatever you prefer) and more about the time and attention you're expending to make yourself look all sexy. all this work? for him? even if his usual compulsion is to act aloof and pretend it's no big deal, he can't hide the greedy way his eyes devour you--for me? don't mind if i do. it's a toss-up whether he decides to unwrap you completely or just push his calloused hands into your lil outfit and muss you up until it's not covering anything anymore. or maybe he'll just leave the wrapping on so he can keep admiring all your hard work while he pumps into you.

Price says he loves you in lingerie, and he does. he doesn't tell you how fucking crazy you drive him when you're dressed for business. that might mean the clothes you wear into the office every day; it might mean fatigues; it might mean a particular uniform; it might be sportswear. he's big into seeing you focused and in your element--your competence is sexy--while also knowing there are so few layers he'd need to peel off before he could have you completely forgetting yourself if he wanted. and hey! if the lace at the top of your thigh-highs happens to be peeking out from under your pencil skirt, or if your ass fills out your uniform just right? that's just fine with him. you do you. (for now. he'll do you later.)

Soap's preferences are simple. he likes access. skirts. dresses. obviously, if he could convince you to be naked 100% of the time, he would. sundresses are pretty, though. so are your studded black skirts if you're gothy. or your sharp, practical, form-fitting pencil skirts if you're professional. you can even wear a kilt if you'd like. his kilt. he doesn't mind. (he only asks that you wear it as it's meant to be worn--without a thing underneath.) on days you do wear a dress or skirt, you're lucky to make it out of the house without him darting after you, pulling the hem up your thighs, and wondering aloud how you managed to find any undergarments at all; he'd swear he hid every last pair. he peels your underwear off--don't protest, hen; you know how this works--and after that, your chances of getting out the door are slim to none.

...

more multi-141 and poly 141 / masterlist tag

[mishellii]

♢ᴘᴇᴛ ɴᴀᴍᴇꜱ ʜᴇᴀᴅᴄᴀɴᴏɴꜱ♢

naruto, sasuke, shikamaru, kiba, shino, neji, iruka & kakashi

a/n: sooo,, i SHOUld be working on my uni essays and on the bf!neji texts BUT this had been sitting in my notes app for a while so i decided to post it ;D (the neji texts will come soon i promise). some are longer, some are shorter for which i apologise,,,,,, please ignore typos, i can't spell & enjoy MWUAH

likes & reblogs appreciated <3

warnings: some NSFW parts! MINORS DO NOT INTERACT! :) also not proofread as usual

masterlist

♢ɴᴀʀᴜᴛᴏ ᴜᴢᴜᴍᴀᴋɪ♢

✿oh my baby boy

❀first off: angel. 100%.

✿because u are his angel u feel me

❀he can't go a day without telling u

✿then also just the basic baby

❀but mostly when he wants something from u or he's apologising for dumb stuff he's done

✿puppy eyes and all

❀and also during sexy time

✿it's his most used name for u there

✿fight me on this

❀big on his own self made nicknames for u

✿for instance: u fell down the stairs once?

❀"hey, stairs, how you doin'"

✿and just silly ones like: boo, pookie, apple of my eye

❀he's weird like that c'mon we been knew

♢ꜱᴀꜱᴜᴋᴇ ᴜᴄʜɪʜᴀ♢

✿now this guy is a wild card

❀he'd prefer ur name through & through

✿but he'd slip in a casual babe sometimes which makes ur knees weak obviously

❀because he barely ever calls u that

✿if ur married he'd only call you his wife

❀doesn't even let you answer questions on your own sometimes just so he can hit them with

❀"well, MY WIFE, thinks you suck ass, so.."

✿during sex he can be quiet mean 

❀I DONT THINK in the derogatory way but more in a teasing way

✿"c'mon, sweetheart, look at me."

❀when ur just about to black out??

✿but like i said 

❀not big on pet names but he'll use them more often if he knows u enjoy it <3

♢ꜱʜɪᴋᴀᴍᴀʀᴜ ɴᴀʀᴀ♢

✿pretty

❀just pretty bro.

✿not ALL THE TIME, especially not in public as i don't think he's big on PDA

❀but in the comfort of ur own 4 walls? definitely

✿now don't HATE ME for this but,,,

❀woman. and brat.

✿but only in petty situations, like when ur scolding his lazy ass and he hits u with a "go easy on me, woman, i just woke up."

❀or u've been going on his nerves while he's working

✿,,i'm busy, brat.''

❀in bed tho???

✿love or doll

❀i'm almost CERTAIN.

✿like,, can u imagine?? in his dumb fucking charming voice ???

❀PFFF i'm on my knees 

♢ᴋɪʙᴀ ɪɴᴜᴢᴜᴋᴀ♢

✿now this fucker

❀teasing names through & through

✿ur shorter than him? 

❀"hey, shortie, need help?"

✿ur taller than him?

❀"hey, giant, how's the weather up there?"

✿he's a DICK ok (affectionately ofc)

❀but he can be sweet too i promise

✿he's having fun with calling u bunny during sex or simply baby 

❀also ???? "okay, boss." when he's been annoying u all day and u finally snap at him?

✿he's a menace with nicknames i'm telling u

♢ꜱʜɪɴᴏ ᴀʙᴜʀᴀᴍᴇ♢

✿you probably guessed it and bully me if you'd like but,,,

❀bug or lovebug

✿come oooon he loves his bugs AND he loves you?? it fits PERFECTLY

❀not one to do it infront of other people either but in your private space he just wouldn't stop calling you one of these

✿i also see him using the regular honey but the abbreviation so hun because it's short and sweet and he doesn't like those long ass names

❀apologies if ur name is long LMAO mine is too tho

✿takes the hun into the bedroom but prefers a gentle love while having sex

❀shino's not a sweet talker in my mind, but the pet names make up for it FOSHOU

✿ALSO big brain idea i just had:

❀i think shino can't fully express his emotions verbally so before going on missions he definitely writes u letters and that's where he's blooming

✿''u keep me going everyday, sunshine.''

❀and it doesn't even matter if you have a bubbly personality or not

✿UGH lovesick fr

♢ɴᴇᴊɪ ʜʏᴜɢᴀ♢

❀this pretty princess doesn't even know ur name when ur alone with him 

✿ESPECIALLY when ur texting

❀sweetheart, love & darling

✿he'd make u fall in love over again whenever he calls u one of those i'm just saying

❀because he's always so sincere when he's talking to u it drives me crazy just thinking about it 

✿during sexy time too, he would NEVER

❀& i will die on this hill 

✿NEVER use any degrading names for u

❀ur his baby don't make him do that

✿even when ur fighting, he'd always address u in such a kind way i'm actually going insane

❀"have you had dinner yet, dear?"

✿ sedate me pls

♢ɪʀᴜᴋᴀ ᴜᴍɪɴᴏ♢

✿AAA this guy

❀soo,, like father like son,,, angel

✿u can't change my mind

❀being the kind hearted person he is, it just fits u can't tell me off

✿but i will also say he'd use some funny ones in private because we all know he's just a silly lil guy deep inside

❀i'm thinking toots & peach

✿especially when greeting u !! like ''ey, toots, how's it going?''

❀during sex he will be quiet awkward at the start of ur relationship, settling in angel as he's most familiar with it at first

✿but after some time he'd pull a babydoll or gorgeous on u

❀i mean,,, i'd cry but idk about y'all

✿oVERALL he loves using pet names and wouldn't be opossed to u calling him some sweet ones as well <3

❀call him handsome and he'll go through the roof

♢ᴋᴀᴋᴀꜱʜɪ ʜᴀᴛᴀᴋᴇ♢

✿AHEM

❀so this man,,

✿at the start of ur relationship he's such a shy lil bean so he'll only use your first name

❀but once he's been with you long enough he gets so so comfortable

✿starts of with the regular baby because u are his baby aight.

❀his most frequently used one too i'd say

✿but then he'd go like 

❀"hey, beautiful." "y'alright, sweetheart?"

✿and idk about u but i'd faint

❀HE KNOWS ABOUT HIS AFFECT ON U TOO

✿uses it against u during sex SO OFTEN

❀grunting a "there y'go, darling." into your ear with a sly smirk on his lips 

✿i'm (s)creaming

❀but he's a very private person so don't expect too much of that in public !!

✿a side from a "yes, ma'am" when u tell him not to die on a mission <3

a/n: i hope this doesn't SUCK ahemm,,, and i'll see you beans next time bye bye x

devider by @enchanthings

[starboye]

Kinktober Day 22

starring: ross lynch x male reader

request: ross lynch x onlyfans creator!reader, reader is recording himself for his only fans and as he is fingering himself ross walks in to his room and sees his roommate knuckles deep so reader gets an idea and stands up invites ross to come join and ross jumps on to the bed and start rimming him and fucks him like a slut and after they finish ross puts a cute little diamond butt plug

warnings: smut, cursing, fingering, rimming, ass eating, rough sex, butt plug, sucking fingers???, slight degrading, fucked silly

with the way rent was rising in you apartment it was no surprise you got into the onlyfans business when you saw how much money it brought you and how many people enjoyed you content, and with living with ross being a singer and all it got the bills paid.

and with any other day like today you had to record some sexy stuff to post, so what better content then you fingering yourself, little did you know ross would be coming home early from the recording studio, ross knew what you did but never questioned it because as long as you were paying your half of the rent it was fine with him.

but imagine his surprise when he walked in on you fucking yourself with your fingers, moaning out like a slut as you went deeper and deeper with your fingers, he immediately feels a boner come on as you lean up and see him.

gasping in shock and wrapping yourself in a blanket "fuck hey ross" you try to play it cool but the shock on his face says anything but cool "h-hey y/n" he stammers covering his slightly big cock with his hands, striking and idea in your mind.

"you don't have to stand there you can come closer" you say in a sultry tone dropping the blanket and laying back on the bed, your hole out in full view for ross too see, the way it pulses open and closes was driving him insane, he wants to fuck you so bad now.

after a little battling in his mind he walks forward and lays his head in between your thighs, his breath fanning over your hole making you let out a tiny whimper that his ear catches, wanting to hear more of it he shoves his tongue into your hole.

you back arching in surprise as he works his tongue expertly inside you, your moans becoming louder and louder while the camera caught every moment of the sexy actions, your hand instinctively rushing to grip his hair tightly.

the more you pulled at his curls the rougher he ate you out which pleased you more and more, but just as you were about to cum he pulled away from you addicting but tasty hole "what the fuck ross i was right there" you complain but are immediately quiet when he pulls out his cock.

it was the size of your forearm and it was pulsing with veins "i have something so much better for you" you spread your legs wider as ross climbs up and puts himself in between them, he shifts your legs onto your chest and pin them against you.

he rubs his tip against your hole, even after the fingering and rimming you were still tight as a virgin, ross was going to have some fun with you "you ready" he asks and you shyly nod before he deeply thrusts into you making you cry out loudly, you could feel him in your guts.

"f-fuckkk ross it's to big" you moan gripping the sheets around you as ross pounded into you deeper and deeper, only thing leaving his mouth were moans and some heavy grunts while his fingers dug into your meaty thighs, trying to go deeper than he already was.

"do me a favor and shut up, im not leaving till you take my load" he shoved his fingers down your throat to which you eagerly drooled and sucked on like a lollipop, the more he fucked you the more brain cells you lost, slowly but surely drifting down a road to pure ecstasy.

"you like that huh, i bet your fans are gonna love this video" ross laughed at your dumb look, your tongue lolling out but still slightly sucking his fingers while your eyes rolled to the back of your head and your legs somehow now wrapped around ross's waist.

you wanted his cum bad and he could tell "you want me to fill you up" he asked but all you could get out were a bunch of sloppy mhm's and a lazy nod of your head which was enough to convince ross you wanted his warm load swimming in your stomach.

so with a couple more thrusts of his hips snapping into your ass he came in you with a drawled out groan, you were to fucked out to even tell what was happening, just whining out as you felt ross pull out of you before quickly returning with something in hand.

you felt him shove a butt plug in you before he grabs the camera to show the view he gets to see, your beautiful ass slightly swollen from the rough fucking with a nice diamond butt plug to keep his load snug in you, maybe even for him to fuck you later.

taglist:@mailmango@spermeboy@ghostking4m@gayaristocrat@addictedtomalepits@staarb0y@crispysoup318@its-ares@gargoylesworld09@kadenvatsune@fuckshft@wompwomp-1mh3re

[heldbykento]

⊹₊ ⋆ ㅤ— “FEEL YOU FROM THE INSIDE . .ᐟᅟ ”

part 1 | part 2

wrd count: 1304

warnings: smut, fem!reader x josh, dry-humping, drinking, josh is a pervert, semi-plot, make out, drunk reader, smutty indications, aggressive teasing

a/n : my bi-monthly drop!!!! wrote this for my dear friend adri, and me :3 but also because i just finished until dawn and this sexy man is EVERYWHERE… will be writing more of him soon. stay tuned ! ;)

you knew your limits when it came to alcohol, what you could handle and what you couldn’t.

but joshua washington had to be the world's best sweet talker. because you’d convinced everyone at the lodge you’d be the most sober.

now you were the only one slurring out a random song with an empty bottle of expensive vodka wrapped around your perfectly jeweled up and manicured hand.

“jooooosssshhhhh…” you slurred to him, clinging onto his bicep that felt oddly larger than usual. all he could do was give that signature sexy laugh and shake his head at you.

he was gentle with you, still obviously teasing but not to an extent.

the boy knew you weren’t 100% yourself when you got this drunk.

“mhm, that’s my name.” he said to you, the two of you weren’t necessarily separated from the group, but you weren’t close enough to be in their conversations.

that was always the case when the two of you were together.

but to him, close was never close enough.

you were rubbing your face all on his flannel, cheek chubbying up and only looking up at him through your eyelids.

eyes big and full of drunken content.

to him, you were just so pretty vulnerable.

the way he was looking down at you was almost straight out of a cheap porno.

his wide eyes, now low and full of an extreme emotion that your weak brain couldn’t understand.

but you had an idea that it was what you were wearing, not to toot your own horn.

soft layers: a tight white tank top stacked with a hot pink zip-up that had fur on the hood and graphics on the back, your tight denim shorts and fleece tights that were meant to keep you warm, but anyone with a right mind knew they were just for show.

technically… you had packed more outfits like this for the trip, but that’s because you weren’t expecting the cabin to be so bitterly cold.

so it wasn’t really even your fault.

in reality, you were dressing this way on purpose.

okay maybe you were dressed like this because you loved the attention.

the peering looks he gave you anytime you walked by, the snarky comments that left his perfect mouth.

who were you to blame? look at that man.

“feelin’ clingy tonight, huh?” he taunted, laughing in your face at the way you were holding onto him and gawking.

“me—? clingy? y’r funny, washington…” all you could do was stutter and stumble on your words.

he made you nervous and you were so intoxicated you could barely think before speaking.

holding him like this made you imagine all the possibilities. all the things you could be doing to each other right now.

and it almost felt like he was thinking the same, like you were always riding on the same wavelength.

you know something else you could ride on.

it was stupid to imagine but there’s always been a tension between you two, so thick and palpable that it left you knees-weak every time he flirted with you.

“let’s just cut the bullshit. c’mon.” before you could even process that he was talking to you, a rough set of calluses were wrapped around your forearm, tugging you somewhere in the lodge that you couldn’t quite comprehend.

the second you heard a door close behind you two, you realized you were in the master bedroom,

only knowing this due to the sudden change of temperature in the room compared to the living room.

“wha- aren’t they gonna n— notice that we’re gone?” you were confused, but you trusted him.

despite the evident look of hunger and lust in his eyes. you trusted yourself in his hands.

“i don’t care. i just needed to get you alone.” his mouth made its way to your ear, slowly, as his warm breath came to touch with your skin,

your body froze up at the sudden attention, making you feel warm. “y/n. almost years i’ve been fantasizing about you, ever since we met,” he paused and cautiously reached for your hips.

his hands were warm and you felt safe, once you processed his words you became putty in them.

“huh?”

was all you could mutter out, keeping yourself in place by grabbing onto his triceps, looking up at him through your full and wispy eyelashes.

“i’m sayin’ i wanna fuck you, pornstar. your skin is so soft and warm. i wanna know,” he paused to straighten himself up and look at you.

“i wanna know what it feels like inside that pussy of yours.”

drunk, he was drunk this had to be the drinks talking. there was no way this was real.

even if he was intoxicated, that didn’t stop his words from going straight in between your legs. arousal pooling onto your lacy panties.

could’ve sworn your eyes started to roll back at the dirty talk, he was so good at it too.

“y’don’t mean that—“ he quickly cut you off, pulling you in nice and personal and grabbing at the plush skin that was covered by tight denim. “i do. with every fiber in me, i swear i do.”

the physical attention was overwhelming, and the verbal one was even more intense. you didn’t know what else to do but to give in to something you’ve been praying for for so long.

you couldn’t even suck in a breath before he was crashing his lips onto yours.

it was a kiss that made you dizzy, you melted into it though, wrapping yourself onto him.

he led you backwards, kissing you still while he was walking, pressing your back against whatever wall was close; stabilizing you with his knee between your legs.

you were holding onto the hair on the back of his head for dear life, loving the hot and messy kiss so much that it turned you on.

all the sexual frustration of not getting any in almost a year turned you into some horn dog.

your head was spinning, you could barely make out a thought. josh’s hand began to unzip your jacket, sliding it off your body while his lips started roaming down your neck.

“i ca— can’t take it,” a whine slipped out of your lips, head turned to face away from him to hide away your embarrassment.

this didn’t stop him though, you felt him smile against your skin and only itch on more.

rutting your hips for you against his clothed leg while he started sucking ravishingly against your neck, josh himself could barely keep himself from grinning at how much he’s won.

josh was the type for messy and quick sex. but when he thinks of having it with you, he wants it hard and slow.

painfully slow. so he can make you take in everything, make you feel everything all at once.

his fingers started sliding off the straps of your tight shirt, lips starting to make contact with the plush skin of your breasts.

“so fuckin’ sexy. just like i imagined. you g’nna let me give it to you? hm?” he was teasing, words muffled by the way he had his lips wrapped around your nipple.

“god i can’t wait to fill you up. gonna tell chris how good this pussy is.” josh snickered, grinning at the mess he was making of you.

and he hadn’t even fucked you yet.

he brought himself up to bite on your ear, hands teasing your breasts as your hips (which had minds of their own) kept grinding on his knee, the friction making your brain go into mush.

your mind was completely blown, blank and empty.

fingers were digging and wrinkling up his flannel as your mouth was agape.

you were all hot and bothered, needing and yearning for more.

if you felt this good only from foreplay, imagine how good being so full of his dick was gonna be.

you couldn’t wait.

you were letting out noises you didn’t even know you could make,

and he was barely getting started.

[heychan1ee]

Grey Sweatpants

Your Bestfriend Jaehyun decides to wear grey sweatpants over to your dorm and just the outline of his cock makes your brain go mushy

Warnings!! Bestfriend!Jaehyun , Fem!Reader , vaginal sex , unprotected sex , pussy drunk Jaehyun , fucking your Bestfriend

Your Bestfriend, laying on your couch manspreading like his life depended on it didn’t help your pervy mind. You and Jaehyun had been friends since elementary school, now both in college. Which means you had your fair share of people thinking you guys were dating and honestly, you aren’t completely against the idea. Just two very attractive people being friends…right?

You could see the outline of his soft cock in his sweatpants, even when soft he was still bigger than most, which made your brain go all mushy and cock drunk. And while in this mindset, Jaehyun notices you staring at him, but not in the eyes. He traces your sight of vision and his ears went red when he realized WHAT you were staring at. He smirked slightly and cleared his throat “you okay?”. You got knocked out of your little trance and nodded “oh-Uhm, yeah I’m okay”.

“I know what you were staring at y/n…big huh?” Jaehyun said in a cocky little attitude, you just wanted to fuck it out of him. “Hey! You don’t think I was staring at your dick!” You quickly defended yourself, lying right through your teeth. “I KNOW you were staring at my junk, I’m not stupid”. You huffed and crossed your arms “am I not allowed to look?”. Jaehyun smirked more as he thought of his response “only if you ride it…”. Your eyes widened and you looked at him surprised. “Are you serious? You want me to ride you?”. Jaehyun nodded in response, that was all he did as he crossed his arms like he was mocking your current pose.

You couldn’t have been more excited, trying to hide it. Quickly you crawled into his lap as he sat on the couch. Jaehyun smirked and rested his hands on your thighs, his hands nice and warm against your bare thighs as you were wearing shorts. “I’m already hard baby, just get undressed…I know your turned on already” he said cockily, and god dammit he was right, every.single.word. You crawled off of him and stood up as you slipped your shorts off and your shirt, no bra or panties. “Hmmm, nothing under your clothes?” He asked and smiled. “Shut up Jae” you said as you crawled back into his lap.

Jaehyun slowly ran his fingers through your soaking folds, digging a moan from your lips as his fingers ran over your clit. “I was right” he said and smirked. You rolled your eyes “don’t be so cocky, your going to turn me off”. Jaehyun chuckled “so sorry baby” he said and slowly dipped two fingers into you, his palm rubbing against your clit. The nickname made you even more wet than before, Jaehyun feeling the gushing of more slick coming from your pussy.

He leaned in and slowly took one of your nipples into his mouth as he was slowly fingering you open to take his large cock later on. Slick shockwaves ran through you as his thick finger stretched you open, moans pouring from your parted lips. He moaned softly in pleasure as you slowly grinding against him, leaving a wet spot on his grey sweats. He pulled away from your nipple and looked up at you seductively, his lips wet from wrapping around your breast tissue.

You looked down at Jaehyun with the same look, smiling softly at him. He smiled “Hhmm, you are so sexy y/n…all for me”. Jaehyun then pulled his fingers out and he pulled his sweatpants down just enough for his hard cock to spring free, it was angry and red as he was turned on for way to long without doing anything. He slowly ran the tip of his cock through your wet folds, groaning softly at the feeling already. You felt your whole body tingle at the feeling of his touch, wanting it for years and years.

“C’mon put it in already” you whined in pleasure as the tip of his cock ran along your clit. He hummed and smiled “will do baby” he agreed and he slowly let you sink down onto his cock, your eyes nearly crossing at the feeling of the burning stretching. He groaned and his head fell back against the couch, you whimpered and your hips trembled slightly. You wanted more and more as the seconds went by, the burning pleasure in between your thighs made your brain go fuzzy.

Slowly Jaehyun started to thrust up into you, while you bounced on his cock. You moaned out in pleasure, eyes rolling back at the stretch. Your whole body slipped into euphoria, brain going all mushy and wild just from your best friends cock. “You feel so good baby, bouncing on my cock so well” Jaehyun yapped and whined under his breath, going all numb with pleasure. The longer you rode him, the fuzzier your brain got. The way he stretched you out, the way he held your hips and guided your body to move with him. It was like a perfect dance, bodies moving together like you had done this a million times.

“I’m g-gonna c-cum Jae” You whimpered in pleasure, thighs burning from bouncing up and down onto his cock. Jaehyun groaned and nodded “me t-too” he grumbled under his moans. You trembled and stopped moving, moans getting louder, eyes rolled back, thighs trembled shut, moaning Jaehyun’s name like it was the only word you knew. Fireworks exploded in your abdomen and you came all over Jaehyun’s cock. And with that, Jaehyun groaned deeply snd came right into you, your cum and his mixing inside of you. He panted and moaned as he slowly pulled out of you.

You panted and looked down at his cock, it covered in cum. “Fuck…we need to go to the pharmacy for plan B” you said out of breath. Jaehyun nodded and helped your get up, quickly grabbing a wet cloth and cleaning you up and helping you get dressed again. He grabbed his keys and then your hand as he nearly dragged you out of your dorm room. “I’m not ready for kids yet” Jaehyun said with you in his hand as he walked down the hallway with you. You giggled and nodded in agreement. “Me too”.

“But I would have them with you…” you said and it made Jaehyun stop walking. He looked at you and smiled shyly “me too…” he said and leaned in, kissing your lips softly, your first kiss with him…it was so soft and sweet, despite what had just happened between you two. You pulled away and looked up at Jaehyun for a couple seconds before letting out a giggle “okay, let’s go”. And this was how nights for the next couple months went, Jaehyun cumming inside of you and both of you running to the pharmacy to grab Plan B, taking turns buying it.