#but also. no one is going to tell me what my brain is like when they dont live here!!

[witchslove]

Study Sessions

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Summary: You and Wanda have been best friends since your first semester of college. When you have to take a physics class, Wanda is more than happy to help you study, but your late night study sessions blur the lines between friendship and romance.

Warnings: 18+ nsfw content; bottom!wanda maximoff, top!reader, fingering (w receiving), oral (w receiving), wanda’s first time with a woman, slight angst, jealousy

A/N: Save me college Wanda, college Wanda save me…

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The sun beamed down on you as you walked across campus, sweat forming on the back of your neck from the heat.

You had just finished your first day of classes for the semester and you were feeling confident about all of them, except for one. Even as an English major, you were stuck taking a physics class to complete some general requirements for graduation.

You could handle the most complex forms of literature on a bad day, but when it came to math and science, you found yourself feeling a little lost.

The good news was that your roommate and best friend, Wanda Maximoff, was a physics major. Wanda was everything you wanted to be - naturally smart, driven, focused, and incredibly organized.

She was also the most beautiful person you had ever laid eyes on, long brown hair that was somehow even softer than it looked, stunning green eyes that sometimes made you nervous under her gaze, and the perfect body - since you shared a room, you’d seen her undress before, and you weren’t sure if you wanted to look like her or fuck her brains out.

You constantly pushed down any desires you felt towards Wanda since she was your best friend, telling yourself your friendship was far too valuable to risk just because you occasionally had confusing feelings towards her.

The two of you had known each other since you both started college. You were roommates your first semester and instantly became close, despite your contrasting personalities. Where you were more relaxed and laid back when it came to your studies, Wanda was very serious. It made sense though, her major was far more demanding than yours was and she always worked hard to maintain her perfect GPA.

You’d always admired Wanda and found that you could no longer envision your life without her by your side. She was easily the best friend you’d ever had; she was supportive when you needed it and stayed on top of you when you felt like slacking. Wanda was extremely likable and you felt honored that she considered you her closest friend as well.

When you finally made it back to your dorm, you sighed as you felt the cool air inside. You headed to your room and unlocked the door, stepping through the threshold to the familiar sight of Wanda studying. You smiled to yourself; it was only the first day of classes and she was already trying to learn as much as she could.

“Hey,” you greeted, setting your things down and plopping into your bed, taking a moment to relax.

“Hi,” Wanda said back, turning in her chair to face you. “How was your first day?”

“It was good,” you responded, looking over at her from your bed. “My professors seem cool, most of my classes don’t seem too hard. What about you?”

“Not too bad, although my nuclear and particle physics class might kick my ass this semester,” Wanda chuckled.

“Is that what you’re over there studying already?” You teased her, gesturing to the open books on her desk.

“Yeah, it’s actually pretty interesting. I want to get ahead this semester so I have more time to hang out with you and do fun stuff,” she explained.

“That’s good. I’ll remind you that you said that the next time you’re trying not to go to a party with me,” you joked, bringing a smile to her face. “Or maybe you could use some of that extra time to help me out, I’m stuck taking a physics class this semester and I have no idea what’s going on.”

“Oh, which one?” Wanda asked, her interest piqued.

“Classical mechanics I think,” you said, feeling slightly embarrassed at needing help with one of the most basic physics courses.

“That’s a fun one,” she commented. “I’d be glad to help detka.”

That was another thing about Wanda. She often called you pet names, in a friendly way of course, but it made your heart flutter every time she did it.

“Okay cool, thank you. Maybe we can have a study session at the library tomorrow if you’re not too busy with classes?” you asked, knowing you only had one class to worry about in the morning.

Wanda turned towards her desk to flip through a binder, checking her schedule. “I have a morning class and one in the afternoon, could we do 7pm?”

“Sounds like a plan,” you said, biting back a smile at the thought of Wanda tutoring you.

“Perfect! I’ll meet you there tomorrow.” She turned back to face you again, her expression becoming serious as she pointed a finger at you. “Ten minutes of bed-rotting time and then I want to see you reading or writing something,” she demanded, trying to motivate you to get ahead like she was.

“Okay mom,” you retorted, rolling your eyes playfully.

She went back to studying, taking notes as she flipped the pages of her nuclear physics textbook. You laid in bed for a few more moments, scrolling through Instagram reels, before getting up to join her in studying.

The next day, you attended your morning class and then grabbed a latte at the coffee shop on campus, deciding to review your notes as you sipped your drink, knowing it’s what Wanda would want you to do.

The rest of the day went by slowly but you managed to get some work done. You were eager for your study session with Wanda, excited to spend some time with her after the two of you had gone home for the summer and had barely seen each other.

You arrived at the library early, finding it to be relatively empty at this time of night. A few students were at the computers, but overall the library was quite vacant. You picked a spot in the corner, away from others, where you felt you’d have the most privacy and the least distractions.

You waited for Wanda, who came in a few minutes later, looking around the shelves before she spotted you.

“Hey,” she greeted as she sat down beside you, her thigh touching yours. She reached into her bag to pull out different colored pens, highlighters, sticky notes, and some of her old physics notes from when she took classical mechanics.

“Hi,” you breathed out, forcing yourself to ignore the feeling of her so close. “Someone came prepared,” you jested, making her laugh softly as she finished setting up.

“I’m here to help you, aren’t I? I have to make sure you have everything you need,” she quipped with a smile and the most adorable nose scrunch.

Your heart skipped a beat at the sight; you didn’t remember it being this hard to be around Wanda, but everything she was doing was driving you crazy in the best way. You watched her for a moment as she placed everything on the table in an organized fashion, biting her lip with a focused expression on her face. You wanted nothing more than to pull her bottom lip from between her teeth and capture it with your own.

“Let’s get started, shall we?” She broke the silence, bringing you back to reality. You blushed at what you were just thinking about, nodding in response.

“Sounds good,” you managed, opening your textbook to the first chapter.

Wanda reached over to move the textbook so it was centered between the two of you and as she did so, your fingers brushed against each other. You almost shivered at the act, the soft touch feeling like too much but not enough at the same time. Wanda didn’t seem affected as she began to dig into the material, asking you what the professor had already gone over.

She somehow kept finding ways to touch you, whether it was a hand on your shoulder or her fingers grazing your own over the textbook as she pointed to pictures and paragraphs. You could barely answer her questions, the close proximity and subtle touches making you yearn for her.

Unbeknownst to you, Wanda was just as affected; she was just better at hiding it. She couldn’t understand why but she kept intentionally finding ways to be closer to you. She didn’t notice the effect it was having on you, too preoccupied with steadying her own heart rate every time she felt your skin against hers.

She’d always thought you were beautiful, but this was something else. She didn’t know why she was struggling to keep her composure around you now. She’d always found comfort in your presence - you often studied together, came home drunk from parties and cuddled in the same bed, or watched movies together laying side by side, the computer across both of your laps.

Something about this study session felt weirdly intimate. She was enjoying teaching you about her passion, physics and science, and maybe that was part of it. She chalked it down to that and tried to push her feelings aside, focusing on helping you with your studies and being a good friend.

A friend - that’s what she was to you and that’s how it would stay. She couldn’t complicate something so perfect with these conflicting feelings of wanting more from you.

Despite both of you trying hard to ignore how you felt, the air was still charged, the tension still there. It wasn’t just this time either - it became a regular occurrence.

Wanda helped you with physics at least once a week and her eager guidance actually helped you grasp the subject more. You found yourself falling in love with the way her eyes would light up when you brought up a subject she knew a lot about. She was so excited every time you understood it too, feeling both accomplished that she could help and proud that you were getting it.

She found it adorable when you didn’t understand something and she loved the way your eyebrows furrowed as you tried to think harder about it. The two of you became closer than ever, which you didn’t think was possible. You and Wanda were already attached at the hip when she wasn’t deep in her studies and you never expected to feel like you were getting to know her better just from a few study sessions, but you loved it.

You found yourself wanting her, despite trying to repress those feelings. Sometimes when you got an answer right and Wanda beamed with excitement, you only wanted to break the distance and kiss her, to feel her lips against your own and wrap your arms around her neck as she kissed you back. You couldn’t help but look at her lips as she spoke, imagining how soft they’d be against your own. Whenever she bit her lip, you wished she was biting yours.

The thoughts weren’t always so innocent though. Yes, you wondered how she would taste as you kissed her, but you also wondered how she would taste with your head between her legs. You wanted to thank her for her help by making her cum on your fingers right there in the library, where anyone could see.

You tried to shake those kinds of thoughts, feeling guilty for thinking of your best friend that way, especially when she was being so kind as to tutor you on the subject you struggled with. She didn’t have a lot of free time to begin with, her workload keeping her fairly busy, and here she was making sure you could pass your physics class with flying colors.

And here you were, too distracted by thoughts of fucking her to pay attention to Newton’s law of attraction. The only law of attraction you could think about was how you felt about Wanda.

Wanda was in the same boat, cursing herself for threatening to ruin your friendship with this newfound attraction towards you. She wondered if her seemingly innocent thoughts about you in the past were actually just the seeds of this desire for you, only now flourishing the more time you spent alone with her.

Whenever she felt your gaze on her, it made her feel hot all over. She tried to ignore it and focus on the material, reminding herself that you just needed help with physics. That’s what she was there for, nothing else.

But sometimes, she wished it was more. When you weren’t looking, she’d rake her eyes over you, taking in the sight of you beside her, feeling her heart stop in her chest when you’d catch her staring. You convinced yourself she was just watching you to make sure you were immersed in the subject, when in reality she was most definitely checking you out.

Still, her eyes on you made you nervous and you brought your attention back to the textbook in front of you solely to rid your cheeks of the blush she caused.

One particular night in the library nearly changed everything.

You read Wanda’s notes about motion and energy, scanning the pages to better understand the concepts. While you admired her neat handwriting and the cute ways she annotated her own notes, Wanda admired the concentrated look on your face.

She was so lost in watching you that she barely noticed when you spoke.

“So special relativity is the exception to Newton’s laws when objects move at high speeds and general relativity is when objects are too massive, right?” You asked, looking up at her for confirmation as she stared at you intently, a slight smirk coming across your features when you caught her.

“Yes,” she choked out, looking away for a second to regain her composure. “And quantum mechanics?”

“That’s the exception when objects are very small,” you responded, feeling confident in your answer.

“Good job,” Wanda praised, making your heart flutter. “You’re really getting it.” She looked at you with nothing but pride and approval, smiling softly.

“Thank you,” you mumbled, feeling hot under her gaze. Despite how nervous she was making you, you didn’t break eye contact.

The two of you sat like that for a moment, just looking at each other, until Wanda’s eyes flicked down to your lips for a brief second. You almost thought you imagined it at first, but then she did it again. You mimicked her actions, looking down at those lips you wanted so desperately to capture with your own.

You swore Wanda was leaning in and you couldn’t stop yourself from doing the same. Your faces were mere inches apart now and you could feel Wanda’s warm breath against your lips.

Before you could close the gap, the door to the library opened and startled both of you. You turned to look at who came in, silently cursing them for ruining the moment as Wanda pulled back to look too.

There was an awkward silence before Wanda cleared her throat. “So now that you know what quantum mechanics is, let’s move on to the definitions of atomic and subatomic,” she said, her voice nearly trembling as she tried to recover from the heated moment you shared.

“Right,” you responded, turning your attention back to her notes, trying to calm your racing heart.

You and Wanda had almost kissed, everything suddenly felt very real. But instead of addressing what just happened, Wanda moved on, bringing the conversation back to the task at hand.

You played along, focusing on looking for the definitions she mentioned, finding it difficult to learn anything new when you had just come so close to kissing the brunette.

The rest of the study session felt tense and slightly awkward, but you made it through the last of the material without any hitches - or almost-kisses. Eventually, the two of you packed up your things and headed out, discussing projects and exams on the way back to your dorm.

A few days later, you were watching a movie in bed when Wanda came in, smiling brightly with a skip in her step.

“What’s got you so giddy today?” You asked, pausing your movie.

“Do you remember Vision, from my data analysis class?”

“Yeah,” you answered, nodding.

“He just asked me out,” she said excitedly. “I said yes of course. We’re going out on Friday, he’s taking me to dinner.”

Her words felt like a punch to the gut. You forced a smile, trying to be happy for her when all you could focus on was the feeling of your heart breaking.

“That’s great, Wands,” you muttered. “I’m happy for you.” The words felt fake coming out of your mouth but you kept up the act and tried to ignore the jealousy bubbling within you.

“He’s so sweet, he even used a silly joke about data to ask me out,” she went on, continuing to tell you about her day as you listened, your mind elsewhere the entire time.

All you could think about was the kiss you almost shared, how it meant everything to you and nothing to Wanda. Obviously she wasn’t interested in you like that and you wondered if you merely imagined the intimacy of the library study sessions. You had to come to terms with the fact that the tension you felt in the air when you were with Wanda lately was all in your head.

You thought when you almost kissed that maybe, just maybe, she felt the same way. Now, you realized you were horribly wrong, the harsh reality hitting you like a truck. Wanda was just being nice helping you study and you let yourself believe that it was more. You felt incredibly stupid, wishing the ground would swallow you whole so you didn’t have to hear any more about the date Vision was taking Wanda on.

What you didn’t know was that Wanda only said yes to Vision out of pure denial. She was having a hard time coping with her feelings for you and this seemed like a good way to move on, to try to save your friendship from her own selfish desires. She was excited for her date, hoping that it would take her mind off of you.

Maybe Vision would be the perfect guy for her and she could fall for him instead. He was handsome, slightly dorky, and very chivalrous, always holding the door open for her when they showed up to class at the same time. He was planning on taking her to a lovely restaurant near campus and Wanda was trying her best to look forward to it.

Friday rolled around and Wanda went on her date, which couldn’t have gone better. Vision greeted her at her dorm with flowers, walking her to his car and taking them to the restaurant. He listened intently while Wanda talked about herself and her passions, seeming genuinely interested. He paid at the end of dinner, leaving a generous tip for their server which Wanda found attractive. He asked politely to kiss her when he dropped her back off and didn’t pressure her for more.

Despite how wonderful the date was, Wanda was frustrated. She didn’t feel a spark with him like she did with you. She didn’t feel anything when they kissed, not even when he cupped her cheek in his hand as he moved his lips softly against her own.

Wanda felt more butterflies in her stomach from your hand brushing against hers during a study session than she did from kissing Vision at the end of their date and she hated it.

She figured it would take some time to get over you and continued to see Vision, going on a couple dates a week with him when she had the free time. She tried to continue your study sessions as well, but you told her you didn’t need the extra help and to just have fun with Vision. She felt slightly hurt - she didn’t like the idea of you not needing her anymore - but she was also proud of you for taking on the subject on your own.

You, on the other hand, were avoiding Wanda at all costs. You only came back to the dorm when she was in class or when she was already asleep, staying out late hanging around college parties that weren’t nearly as fun without your best friend.

You were in far too deep and came to the conclusion that you needed to move on in order to stay friends with Wanda. So you kept your distance, hoping that not seeing her or hearing from her would help you lose feelings for her.

You also couldn’t bear to see her with Vision; the sight of them together on campus made you feel sick to your stomach. You didn’t want to hear about their dates either, knowing it would destroy you. You couldn’t possibly listen to Wanda describe how he got to take her out and kiss her and hold her when it should’ve been you, not without revealing your true feelings to her.

While you spent your days hiding from the brunette, Wanda was confused as to why you were avoiding her, not understanding that it was an act of self-preservation.

She had so many things she was excited to tell you about - being the top student in her relativity class, getting a perfect score on her nuclear and particle physics exam, and of course, her budding relationship with Vision. The opportunity to tell you never came, as you were gone until she went to sleep and out of the dorm before she woke up.

She missed your study sessions, even if not having those intimate moments with you was for the best. She missed your movie nights, your conversations, your presence in general - she missed everything about you. It frustrated her to no end that she could never seem to see you anymore and she wondered how you could possibly become so busy all of a sudden.

She only realized you were actively avoiding her one night when she stayed up late, waiting to see if you’d come back to the dorm.

When you entered, you were surprised to see her still awake.

“Hey,” she said, happy to see you for the first time in weeks. “Where were you?”

“At a party,” you said back coldly. You internally cursed yourself for not staying out later, unaware that Wanda would still be up when you came back. You looked around before grabbing some things from your dresser. “I need to shower,” you announced, leaving the room before Wanda could ask any more questions.

The brunette waited up for you, but you never came back. She waited hours before she finally succumbed to sleep, her thoughts a jumbled mess as she drifted away.

When she woke up the next morning and you were still gone, she knew you were actually making an effort not to see her and she could only wonder what she had done wrong. She mulled over it for a while but came up with nothing. She thought back to the almost-kiss and wondered if maybe she had made you uncomfortable that night.

Days went by and you continued to avoid her. Not knowing why you were staying away from her was driving her crazy. Her grades even began to suffer from how distracted she was in class, her mind consumed with thoughts of you.

She finally decided to confront you about it, but first she’d have to actually find you. She vaguely knew your class schedule but didn’t want to corner you in a public place, so she went to the one place she thought you might be late in the evening.

As soon as she entered the library after hours, she saw you in the corner at the same table the two of you used to sit at for your study sessions.

You were nose deep in your physics textbook, focusing intently as you tried to understand the topics without Wanda’s help. She walked over to you, mentally hyping herself up for the conversation she was both anticipating and dreading.

When you set the book down to take notes, you looked up and your eyes widened at the sight of Wanda approaching you.

Before you could say anything, she was taking a seat across from you. “Why are you avoiding me?” she demanded, raising an eyebrow and crossing her arms, her tilting to the side.

“I- I’m not, I-” you stuttered out.

“Don’t,” she interrupted. “Don’t lie to me. You’re never back at the dorm anymore, you stopped spending any time with me, you literally said you were going to shower and just never came back. So don’t you dare lie to me right now.”

“I’ve just been busy,” you said nonchalantly, not wanting to tell her the truth. “I have a life outside of you, you know.” You regretted the words as soon as you said them.

“Bullshit,” she responded, getting angry. “You’re avoiding me and I can’t for the life of me figure out why. What did I do to you?”

“Nothing, Wands,” you reassured her. “You didn’t do anything. I just- I need to be alone.”

“Why?” She didn’t let up. She came here to get answers and she would get them one way or another.

“It’s personal,” you tried, hoping she wouldn’t press any further.

She scoffed. “What’s so personal you can’t share it with your best friend?”

You were at a loss for words. You couldn’t tell her the truth and risk ruining your friendship, but at this point there was barely anything left to ruin. You hadn’t seen Wanda properly in weeks, your friendship with her was practically nonexistent at the moment.

When you didn’t respond, she spoke again, softer this time. “What’s going on? You can tell me anything,” she uttered, reaching out to place a hand over yours.

“I can’t tell you this,” you mumbled, feeling your resolve weakening.

“What could possibly be so bad you can’t tell me?” She asked, her heart falling at the sight of you looking so small under her gaze.

“I- I can’t stand to see you with him,” you whispered, your voice so low she almost didn’t hear you.

“With who? Vision?” she asked and you nodded, looking down at your lap. “I still have time for you too, I’m not choosing him over you,” she tried to dispel your worries, not yet understanding what you were implying with your confession.

“No, Wanda, I can’t stand to see him with you,” you said, avoiding eye contact. “You don’t get it, you are choosing him and it hurts too much to be around you.”

“What are you saying?” She questioned, feeling both confused and hurt.

“I’m saying that I like you, Wanda,” you started. “As more than a friend.”

Wanda was silent for a moment, processing what you were telling her. Could she really have been so oblivious that she didn’t notice you wanted her too? It all made sense now. You’d stopped hanging out with her right around the time Vision came into the picture and she couldn’t figure out why, but now she understood.

“Please say something,” you said, feeling nervous and vulnerable as you looked up at her, unable to read her expression.

“I- I didn’t know,” she managed to get out.

“That was kind of the point,” you retorted, half-smiling to alleviate some of the tension.

Wanda let out a suppressed laugh. “I only started seeing Vision because I like you too,” she began. “I thought if I could be with him, I wouldn’t have to worry about complicating things with my feelings.”

Your mouth fell open at her words; you weren’t expecting her to ever reciprocate how you felt about her. “You do?”

She nodded. “I didn’t want to ruin our friendship,” she said.

“Me neither,” you mumbled, looking down at her lips for a moment before making eye contact with her again.

She smirked when she noticed where your eyes went, making you blush. “I don’t think that’s a problem anymore,” she said, her eyes flicking down to your lips and back up.

“I think you may be right,” was all you could say before you stood up and walked around the table. Wanda stood up too, meeting you halfway as you pulled her in for a kiss that was long overdue.

You sighed against her lips, kissing her deeply the way you’d wanted to for so long. Your mouths moved together perfectly and it felt so right, you didn’t think you’d ever be able to stop.

This was what Wanda was waiting for.

The kiss she shared with you was everything her kiss with Vision wasn’t. It was electrifying in the best way, butterflies erupting in her stomach with every movement of your lips against hers.

When her tongue traced your bottom lip, you nearly moaned into the kiss, immediately granting her entry. Your tongue collided with hers and she whimpered, the sound going straight to your core. You brought a hand up to caress her cheek, your other hand going to the back of her head to play with her hair, causing her to let out a soft moan. This was everything you could’ve imagined and more.

Wanda’s hands came up to your face, cradling it as she deepened the kiss. Your lips and tongues moved in tandem, neither of you wanting to stop any time soon.

When you finally did detach from her, it was to catch your breath. You stayed close, your noses still touching as the two of you breathed against each other. You felt every breath from the brunette against your skin, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear as you finally opened your eyes.

You pulled back slightly to look at her, her eyes opening to meet your stare. Her pupils were dilated and you were sure yours looked similar. She looked so beautiful looking at you longingly, her lips swollen from the kiss and her breaths coming out labored, green eyes sparkling with lust and adoration.

“Wow,” you breathed out.

“Wow indeed,” she agreed, chuckling as she pulled you in for another kiss, this one much shorter than the first.

A comfortable silence fell over you, the two of you taking in the moment.

“So what now?” you asked, looking at her tenderly.

“I don’t know,” she answered, biting her lip. “It’s safe to say the friendship is ruined at this point, because I don’t want this to be the only time we do that.”

You nodded your agreement. “Me too,” you replied, your eyes falling to her lips once again. “I want you, Wanda. I have for so long.”

“I want you too,” she said without hesitation. “I’ll tell Vision it’s not working out. I want to see where this goes.”

You made a face at the mention of his name and Wanda chuckled. “Oh, you really don’t like him, huh?” She teased.

“Not one bit,” you murmured. “Not when he got to have what I wanted so badly.”

“Charmer.” She smiled at you, her cheeks turning red at your words.

“Can I kiss you again?” You blurted out, feeling your own cheeks redden at your neediness.

She responded by pressing her lips to yours once more and letting her tongue slide into your mouth, humming into the kiss contentedly.

The two of you stayed like that for a while, languidly kissing in the library after hours, catching up on lost time.

When you went back to your shared dorm for the night, you picked back up where you left off, this time with Wanda in your lap as you laid in your bed. Every once in a while, she’d grind her hips down against your lap just to hear you grunt in arousal against her lips.

You fell asleep together in your bed, Wanda’s head on your shoulder as her breathing evened out.

The following week, Wanda ended things with Vision and you took Wanda out on a proper date. Vision’s date paled in comparison to the one you took her on. This date was better simply because it was you and not him, but on top of that, you took her somewhere nice and treated her like a princess the whole night. She practically swooned every time you held the door for her, complimented her, or pulled out her chair for her.

By the end of the night, you were on cloud nine. It was just like spending time with your best friend, but this was infinitely better because you could kiss her whenever you wanted and tell her how beautiful she looked at any given moment.

You walked back to your dorm together, fingers interlocked as you listened to her talk about her dreams after college. When you made it back to the dorm, you opened the door to let her in first.

“Such a gentleman,” she joked, stepping in, and you followed.

“You wouldn’t be saying that if you knew what I wanted to do to you right now,” you said, pushing her against the door softly and looking at her for permission to kiss her.

A pang of arousal shot through her at your words. She wasn’t expecting you to be so bold, but she also wasn’t complaining. “Oh yeah?” she asked, playing along. “How about you show me?”

You didn’t hesitate as you kissed her hungrily, the feeling of her lips on yours making you feel dizzy with lust. You slipped your tongue into her mouth and she gasped at how eager you were, kissing you back with just as much fervor.

You trailed your kisses down to her neck, making her moan as you licked and sucked at the soft skin there. Her perfume invaded your senses and you groaned against her neck, her scent making your knees weak.

Her moans spurred you on as you sucked at her pulse point. She gripped your shoulders, her head thrown back against the door, eyes fluttering closed as you continued your assault on her neck.

She pulled you back up for another kiss, moaning into your mouth when you sunk your teeth into her bottom lip. When you finally pulled apart to catch your breath, you ran your thumb along her bottom lip, gazing into her lustful eyes.

“Are you sure about this?” You checked in with her, wanting to make sure she was really okay with what was about to happen.

“I’ve never been with a woman before,” she admitted, suddenly feeling shy. “But I want it to be you, please.”

You nearly groaned out loud hearing her beg for you, nodding as you lifted her up and carried her to your bed. You placed her down gently, crawling on top of her and kissing her again.

You once again began your descent, kissing her neck and sucking on her soft spots. She squirmed beneath you, feeling herself becoming wet under your touch.

Your fingers found the bottom of her shirt, playing with the fabric as you silently asked for permission to remove it. “Take it off,” Wanda whispered, starting to feel desperate from your slow teasing.

She sat up so you could pull the shirt off of her and reached back to unclasp her bra, letting the material fall from her shoulders. Your mouth fell open at the sight of her bare chest, nipples already hard. You’d seen her topless before while she was changing, but never like this. You’d never been allowed to look as much as you wanted, to admire her before you.

“Fuck, you’re perfect,” you said, bringing your hands up to her chest as she leaned back again. Your thumbs brushed over her nipples, causing her to let out a whimper that sent heat coursing through your body.

You leaned in to take one of her nipples in your mouth, licking it gently before sucking on the hardened bud. Wanda moaned at that, the sound making you even more aroused. She sounded so pretty moaning under your touch and you couldn’t wait to hear what she sounded like when she came undone for you.

You gave her other nipple the same attention before moving down, one hand finding its way under her skirt. Your fingers reached her center, feeling a wet spot on the front of her underwear.

“You’re so wet for me,” you mumbled, in awe of how turned on she was. It almost made you feel a bit cocky, knowing it was you who made her so wet she was soaking through her panties.

“Please,” the brunette gasped out, bucking her hips up against your fingers. “Need you.”

“Yeah? You need me, pretty girl?” You cooed, rubbing your fingers along her slit over her underwear.

She nodded frantically, her hips desperately trying to meet your hand for any sort of friction against her aching pussy. You pushed aside her panties to touch her without any barriers and you let out a moan of your own at the soft, slick feeling of her folds against your fingertips. She was dripping, her wetness clinging to your skin and the lace of her panties as you dragged your fingers through her folds teasingly.

All of a sudden, you pulled your hand back and she whined, already missing the contact. “Shh, I’m just gonna take these off, okay?” You asked, subtly making sure she was comfortable with you removing the last of her clothes.

“Yeah,” she responded, lifting her hips so you could pull her skirt and panties off in one motion.

Once she was rid of her clothes, you took a moment to appreciate the view before you. Wanda was gorgeous all over, you thought to yourself, admiring her underneath you. You raked your eyes over her, committing the sight to memory as she blushed against the covers of your bed, feeling hot under your gaze.

“You can stare all you want later, right now I need you,” she said breathily, grabbing your hand and bringing it to where she needed you most. Your fingers met her wet center once more and you immediately started rubbing her clit, making her moan and buck her hips.

You kissed her again, swallowing her moans as you picked up your pace, making tight circles on her sensitive bundle of nerves.

“Fuck, just like that,” she whimpered, her face contorted in pleasure, eyebrows furrowed, heavy breaths escaping her as you brought her pleasure.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” you mumbled, watching her throw her head back and close her eyes as she got lost in the feeling of your fingers against her.

You stopped your movements just long enough to tease her entrance and upon hearing another “please,” you slid a finger inside. You fucked her with one finger for a few moments before sliding another one in, causing her to let out a guttural moan at the feeling of you stretching her out.

You kissed down her body again, making your way down to where you desperately wanted to taste her. When your hot mouth met her clit, she let out another delicious sound, her hips starting to grind against you, chasing her pleasure. Her movements caused her clit to rub against your tongue while your fingers pumped inside of her and she felt herself becoming close already.

“You taste so good,” you praised, barely moving your mouth from her pussy to speak, before reattaching your lips to her clit and sucking hard. She moaned at your words and at the pressure building in her lower stomach, continuing to rut her hips against you.

“I’m gonna cum, fuck, I’m so close,” she moaned, one hand coming to the back of your head to keep you there, as if you would ever deny her anything.

With a few more thrusts of your fingers, she came undone, loud moans filling the room as she reached her peak. Her hips stuttered against your face, her clit pulsing under your tongue while her pussy clenched around your fingers.

You slowed your movements, helping her ride out the aftershocks, small whimpers and moans leaving her as she came down from her high. She sighed, all of the tension having left her body, before pulling you up for a kiss, tasting herself on your tongue.

“I could get used that,” she hummed, smiling up at you tiredly.

“Me too,” you panted out, still incredibly turned on from seeing her cum for you. “I kinda can’t wait to do it again.”

“You want me that bad?” She teased, smirking.

“Absolutely,” you replied genuinely, staring at her with so much love and lust in your eyes it made her heart flutter and her pussy throb.

“Go ahead baby, fuck me again,” she said, your own cunt clenching around nothing at her words. You returned to your new favorite spot between her legs and did exactly what she told you, her hand in your hair guiding you the whole time.

After three more rounds, Wanda was spent, and you joined her at the head of the bed, letting her turn towards you and rest her head on your shoulder. You held her close as she traced patterns on your arm, catching her breath after falling apart for you so many times.

“Do you still need help with physics?” She asked, breaking the silence.

You chuckled at that. “Yes, desperately,” you responded, letting a hand come up to play with her hair. “I have no idea what I’m doing.”

She laughed, finding it amusing that you’d needed her help the past few weeks but were too stubborn to ask for it. “Study session this week?” she suggested, her eyes falling closed at the feeling of your fingers on her scalp.

“I wouldn’t miss it,” you said, smiling happily, feeling at peace in the arms of the girl you loved.

You never would’ve thought you would be so grateful for having to take a physics course, but now you were certain it was the best thing that had ever happened to you.

[softly-faye]

Rafe x reader who never stops talking and actually gets made fun of and people are always annoyed with her cause she’s charge rbox and like smut where she won’t stop talking and Rafe likes it! Pls pls pls

𝐌𝐫𝐬 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫-𝐛𝐨𝐱 ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

(I could eat that girl for lunch - yeah she dances on my tongue, taste like she might be the one…)

⋆ ˚｡⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚｡˚ ⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚｡˚ ⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚｡˚ ⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚｡˚ ⋆ ⋆ ˚｡⋆ 𝜗𝜚˚

The sheets were cream colored and sun-warmed. The golden light slipping in from the window made everything feel like a dream. Dust floated lazily in the air like a slow dance and somewhere in the background a soft indie song played from a speaker that neither of them had touched in over an hour.

Rafe’s head was buried between her thighs and his hands were pressed snug around her waist, fingers curled possessively like she was the most precious thing he’d ever touched. She was half sprawled across the bed, her legs draped over his shoulders, her toes flexing every time he hit the spot just right. Which, to be fair, was basically every five seconds. He had studied her. He knew what made her sigh, what made her shiver, what made her melt into the mattress like sugar on a stove.

And yet.

“Do you think Anna’s boyfriend actually cheated on her? I mean like actually cheated. Like the bad kind. With touching. Because I feel like— oh— I feel like guys just get so weird when they’re guilty and he’s been acting so weird, like weird weird, not cute weird.”

Her voice was breathy but still going a mile a minute. Her fingers combed lazily through his hair, petting him like he was her therapy cat and not a man currently giving her his full devoted attention with his mouth.

Rafe didn’t lift his head, just huffed against her, warm breath making her twitch.

“Baby.”

“Hm?”

“I am literally tongue deep in your pretty little pussy and you wanna talk about Anna’s crusty man?”

She giggled. A soft, high pitched little sound that made his chest feel all gooey. Her hips squirmed and he tightened his grip, pressing her back down like she was a soft pillow he wanted to keep still.

“Well yeah, because I just remembered and it’s driving me crazy. Like, why else would he hide his location on Snap?”

“Maybe so he doesn’t get interrupted while trying to text back. Like me. Right now.”

Another laugh bubbled out of her and her thighs trembled. Rafe went right back in, licking her slowly, thoroughly, like he was tasting her for the first time and never wanted to stop. She tasted sweet, like heat and sugar and something almost citrusy. He moaned softly into her and she gasped, back arching ever so slightly.

“Mmm, Rafe,” she whispered, voice all soft and dreamy now. “Oh that… okay that’s… ohhhkay. Yeah. Just like that. Mmm.”

She was dazed for all of ten seconds.

Then.

“You know what’s underrated? Velvet cake. Like not red velvet, because duh, but like pink velvet or even blue velvet. I saw this girl on TikTok make a lavender velvet cake and it looked so good, I think it was lavender flavored too and— oh— oh my god that little swirl thing you just did, what even was that.”

Rafe chuckled against her again and looked up just enough to meet her eyes. They were wide and glossy, her mouth open in that soft ‘oh’ shape he loved. Her cheeks were flushed and glowing and her hair was all messed up around her like some kind of halo.

“Velvet cake. You’re really telling me about cake while I’m eating you out?”

“I can’t help it, my brain is just full of tabs,” she sighed, hips twitching when his tongue flicked at her again, slow and indulgent. “Like I’m here in the moment but I’m also like… what if I made velvet cupcakes with edible glitter?”

“Sweetheart.”

“Yes?”

“I love you but you gotta give me something to work with here.”

“You are working with something,” she teased, running her fingers down his jaw, tapping at his cheek playfully. “You’re doing such a good job. Gold star. Seriously. Five stars on Yelp. I’d leave a tip.”

He smirked, wicked and amused, then buried his face back into her without another word. This time he sucked gently at the spot he knew made her squirm and she let out the cutest sound he’d ever heard in his life. A little breathy moan, all soft and high and fluttery, followed by her thighs pressing around his ears like they were hugging him.

“Mmm, oh my god, okay… wait… Rafe… okay I think I might… yeah.”

“You think?” he teased, voice muffled against her. “You better be sure.”

She moaned again, one hand flying up to cover her eyes like she was overwhelmed. Her words came out in a jumble.

“I used to have such a crush on my math teacher in tenth grade, is that weird? I just remembered because you said sure and he always said sure in that same tone and oh my god Rafe I’m gonna—”

“Baby.”

“Mm?”

“Focus.”

She whimpered. She actually whimpered. Then nodded, brows scrunched like it physically hurt to keep her mouth shut.

He kept going, steady and gentle and firm, every stroke of his tongue drawing another cute sound out of her. She was trying so hard to stay quiet now, her bottom lip caught between her teeth, her hand fisting the sheets.

“I love you,” she blurted, eyes fluttering. “I love you so much. You’re so good to me. So good. Rafe. Rafe.”

Her legs were shaking now. Her whole body was glowing, the light from the window casting a golden shimmer over her flushed skin.

“I love you too, chatterbox,” he murmured against her. “Now let go for me.”

And she did.

Right there in the warm, soft sheets, with the music humming in the background and the scent of sun and skin and sweetness wrapping around them like a blanket. She moaned, high and soft and so pretty it made his chest ache. Her body trembled under his mouth and he held her close, riding it out with her, kissing her through every twitch and sigh.

When she finally melted into the bed, completely boneless and glowing, he crawled up beside her and kissed her forehead.

“So,” he whispered, brushing her hair back with a grin. “Still thinking about velvet cake?”

She giggled again, that soft airy giggle that made his heart squeeze.

“Maybe,” she whispered. “But mostly I’m thinking about how lucky I am.”

Rafe kissed her again, slow and warm, and pulled her close.

“I’m the lucky one, baby.”

[girl-lostconnection]

Long awaited continuation to this, let’s go while John Price’s multiverse spirit has me by my fucking hair

John is a man of many qualities.

Discipline, integrity, cold head and sharp mind.

Relatively stable code of ethics he tries to apply when it doesn’t cost him an arm and a leg in the process.

He likes staying this way and he likes how high he managed to climb given his absolute hatred of bureaucracy and strained relationship with higher ups in command.

And a general he once murdered in cold blood.

On the other hand, now he is able to add to his CV “efficient and quick thinker”, so if the day comes and army boots him out, he’d be able to get a job at a place that probably frowns upon on unnecessary murder and his choice of coping mechanisms.

John knows a tad more about self control than most people — the itch under his skin to fight and chase ever present, at times even more intensely than in Simon.

And Simon is a wolf, for fuck’s sake, man is a stalking predator through and through.

But it was always different for John, a deep seated hunger, a need to climb to the top and stay there no matter what it takes and no matter how many he’d need to send tumbling down.

After all, he just does what his gut tells him.

No one’s bloody business if his gut also has sharp teeth and heavy tail and less patience than he would have liked.

John drinks his whiskey until his head is blurry. He usually stops at the glass of two fingers and a wank, getting it out of his system before his systems decides to reboot itself by urging him to maul the first soldier that looks him in the eyes.

This time John finishes three glasses, scales rippling when he stretches out, his own smoke clouding his head.

Not a good look for a captain. But tonight he isn’t one.

Tonight he is just John. Just a man.

A man you seemingly don’t want, but at the same time can’t help but enjoy teasing.

Taunting him with the promise of intimacy that John cannot have, showing affections that aren’t for him. Kisses that he can’t get.

For one or another reason.

It’s been almost three months now since he has given up trying to figure out what was so wrong about him.

Why isn’t he good enough. Why don’t you like him.

On most days he doesn’t have some proper time to spiral into thinking about his own inadequacy or about you kissing him just as sweetly as you do kiss Johnny. As you kiss Kyle.

Bit unfair it all feels, if he’s being completely honest and a little selfish. Bit unfair and a whole lot less serious than his brain makes it out to be.

Unfortunately today is one of the few precious days when he has more than enough time to think or spiral or preferably finish his bloody paperwork because the thing has been mounting on his desk.

And people need these forms filled out yesterday.

John will probably fill them out tomorrow. Maybe.

Maybe not. He isn’t sure, as of right now, your frame pulling his whole focus off the necessary work.

You aren’t doing anything per se, you just write the reports he needed help with, you are being a good teammate, you are being useful. And yet, your presence there is enough to distract him.

Well, maybe not your presence exactly.

There’s something different about your scent today.

Not the regular salt and sweat, that he already got used to. That he had spent the last few months imagining himself licking it off your skin.

Its not even the faint sea smell you bring back in your hair after taking a swim for an hour or two.

Nothing about this scent is sharp or cloying,

This one is sweeter.

Practically tender, melting on John’s tongue.

Soft with something that makes him want to do things he can’t, wrapping around John’s head like a veil, coating his mouth with sheen of something he wants to lap up.

Drives him mad that he doesn’t know what it is he smells. His tongue darting out to taste air, to moisturise his dry lips, heavy head of his tilting to the side.

Something is different today with you, seal. Something has changed and it makes the wires in his head sparkle, buzzing him back to life.

Pulling him out of an ice bath of his self-control he painstakingly forces himself into.

Doesn’t help that your usual unfazed and unbothered demeanour is not with you (why is that, he wonders) — twitchy and antsy, your knee jerks up and down under the table, shaking it with how fast you do it.

Real pity there is no one else around, but John.

No Johnny to ‘check your vibes’, no Simon to settle you down, no Kyle to kiss it better.

Just him.

Just the leftovers you apparently don’t want and the captain you don’t like.

Thought scrapes the inner side of John’s throat, acid bubbling, poison spreading. Bitter taste in his mouth almost enough to make him scowl.

But the instinctual, subconscious urge to care for a distressed member of the team is stronger than his wounded pride and heavier than his stone heart.

So his whole body is angling towards you, voice a little softer when he tries to find out what has changed. What makes you so jittery, seal?

You tick like one of Soap’s favourite bombs, timer running down, quickly approaching zero and maybe you can feel that too.

Somewhere deep under your belly button, the pull that makes you try and get away from him.

Interesting reaction.

“Sergeant?”, John murmurs quietly, his voice snapping you out of whatever haze you were in, your head turning to him quickly.

You don’t stop jerking your knee. Almost like you don’t even realise that you are doing it.

“What’s wrong? You hurt?”, he gets to the point without tiptoeing around it, no use dancing in circles if he can shorten this whole thing, cornering you to your desk. Cutting the exit off.

No way out the corner but through him now.

“Nothing, sir. I’m sorry. Must be tired”, you murmur, throat working, ring finger of yours twitching to tap down on the wood of your desktop, your eyes as bright as ever.

Only the blunt and usually so casual tone of yours cracks when you try to change the topic and move on, when you shake your head at his questions, trying to dislodge John off the matter.

Like hell you would, he can smell that something is happening.

John tilts his head to the side when you are so close he can practically taste the sweat on your skin, his tongue flickering out to lick dry lips and hide back, eyes heavy with hunger you have been taunting for the last…how long has it been, love? Was running around plenty, didn’t you?

Alcohol stomps on the ice of his self-control, cracking it for you. Welcoming you in his deep waters.

He nuzzles in your neck, hands sliding under your sweater, groping the tummy of yours, fingers sinking into warm flesh.

Clicking his tongue at your shaky ‘captain, wait—‘ because there is no need for all of that. The chase and games, the play pretend and teasing. He can smell how much you need a hand right now.

How much you need him.

So it’s true that fortune favours the patient because John has had an angelic temper when it comes to you. And this is the result.

His fingers now fondling your tummy, lips finding the juncture between your neck and shoulder, his beard tickling the heated sensitive skin.

That must be the gift for all the time he had to wait for you to finally come around.

John already knows what it is that changed when he yanks your shirt up, when he pulls the cups of your bra down, when he gets handfuls of your fat tits, thick calloused fingers of his massaging the flesh.

Someone’s having a little problem, don’t you, love?

John already knows what it is that is wrong with your mood because he kisses your neck and you shiver, panting, still trying to whine something about people seeing or someone walking in.

No one will, love.

Don’t you know it?

Komodo dragons thrive on hierarchy. And there is not a person in the whole base who’d like to push him when he’s this fucking busy.

He kneads the flesh of yours, thumb rubbing the areola. Coaxing out what he smelled this whole fucking day, what almost drove him to eat you alive before your own control came apart at the seams.

Milk beads on your nipple, John’s fingers working more of it out, his disappointed ‘tsk’ in your ear makes your knees buckle when he props his chin on your shoulder to see it all better.

So full and so hot under his touch, you’ve been having trouble with getting it out on your own, haven’t you, sergeant?

John knows for a fact that Soap is away for at least two weeks now, John knows even better that you are just out of options.

There literally aren’t anyone else but him who can help. It’s not that he is special or loved or even reliable. It’s the lack of options better than him.

Good news is: John doesn’t care anyway.

You wouldn’t believe it if he told you from just how many hopeless pits he crawled out in his days.

A stacked seal with attachment issues who needs help milking is definitely not the worst of it, love.

He tuts at your attempt to cover up or apologise when his grip tightens and milk squirts out on the desk.

All over the documents he was supposed to pass on yesterday.

Now he will probably pass them on never.

He will either need to suck the milk of yours out of the paper or burn it the fuck down.

John just might burn the bloody forms and tell the administration that he lost them. After all, you aren’t going anywhere.

And no one is coming to save you back until the end of next week.

You have no choice but him, sergeant. No one else to gift your kisses to but your captain.

The bottom of the barrel that you just grazed.

You know, maybe you should have been more careful, sergeant. Maybe you shouldn’t have dived this deep in his waters.

Now you just might not come up back for air.

John rolls his hips into you, lazy, stretching out until he is fully in and then out he goes, his thumb drawling slow excruciating circles on your clit, his thumb patting it like you are a dog that earned a treat.

And not a seal hybrid big enough to curl John into a fucking pretzel.

Though how much good your size is now when John is drooling over the fat of your hips and rolls of your stomach?

How much good your big frame is when your captain is still on the top?

“Didn’t fuck you how they should’ave, eh, sweetheart?”, John rumbles, tongue licking his lips, his hips slotting against yours like he was made for you. Like this is how it was supposed to be from the very beginning. “Can’t sate this greedy hole, can they? Need something bigger, need someone older”, he braces on a forearm above your head, hips of his rolling into yours, his tail wrapping around your leg and pulling you back on his cock.

No running now, no slipping away.

But you whine, clamping down on him, your nipples swollen and sensitive when he cooes and licks one, not yet pulling it in his mouth, not yet giving you this relief.

Just a lick, aye? A taste for your captain, for all his troubles.

John licks off the bead of milk, his system rewiring as he rams back inside of you, his grip tightening because oh, this is so much better than he could have expected.

For one dangerous moment years of his discipline crack down so hard that he almost bottoms out in you, imagining you swollen with a baby. His baby. His seal.

“Wonder what face Simon would make if he finds out I knocked up his seal”, John rumbles, pressing his hips down on yours, feeding you every thick heavy inch of himself. Until you claw at his back, eyes rolling back in your skull.

Getting drunk on just the feel of his cock splitting you.

God, he should have taken you like that the moment you decided it’s a good idea to kiss his lieutenant in front of him.

Should have taken you to the office and should have given your ass a dozen stinging smacks.

Should have taught you some fucking manners, but he wanted to be nice, he wanted you to like him and come to him yourself.

He wanted you to give it to him voluntarily. Because maybe you didn’t actually think he was the worst of the pick. Because maybe you’d want him outside of his attempts to earn the trophy of your affection.

Well, too late for that now, isn’t it?

John clicks his tongue again when you try to crawl away — too overwhelmed to think clearly, too hungry for a thing you are too ashamed to ask for.

Just your luck that John isn’t used to asking anyway.

His lips wrapping around your nipple, sucking it in, lapping at the bud of it, milk of yours blooming on his tongue — rich and thick, dripping down his chin, staying in his beard.

You really are going to cover him all in yourself by the end of it, sergeant.

Might force the man to buy you a ring to lock you down for good.

John groans, his vision crumpling around the edges when you cunt spasms around him, your thighs tensing up, hips rolling into his.

Here comes the first one.

See how nice and easy it was?

If only you have admitted from the very beginning that you like your captain.

If only you stretched around him this nicely, whimpering ‘captain please’ like he is the only one who can give you what you want.

“You are the only or are you just one left?”, vicious voice at the back of his mind sneers and John has to pull his mouth off your tit, least he risks to bite through the tender skin, marking. Permanently.

It doesn’t matter why you let him do this for you.

‘Why’ has never mattered and he should have realised it a long time ago instead of sulking around and hissing at his own men.

What matters is that you let him spread you open and force you down.

What matters is that John’s jaws close on your neck and your pussy squelches so loudly it’s almost enough for him to let it get to his head.

John presses a palm on your back, pressing down until you arch for him, not taking your attempt to wiggle away for an answer.

Why would he when you haven’t been true about your needs ever since he met you?

Why would he when your body is so much more honest than you are — your pussy drools for him, back arches — tits now pressed to the bed, ass up in the air for him to feast.

John knows, sweetheart, your nipples are too sensitive to get rubbed like that.

He is being too rough, he is taking too much and he is too hungry.

All of these are true, sergeant, every single word you are right now choking out when he pulls you right back by the hips.

He slams into you from behind, humming when you cry out trying to get back up, because where do you think you are going? No, love, you’ve been teasing him for months now.

Naughty naughty seal, thought there wouldn’t be any consequences for a fit you threw? Thought that John wouldn’t get to have you one way or another?

Or maybe you hoped that someone else would be here with you now?

He clicks his tongue when you reach for your clit, his palm smacking yours away, pushing you face down in the mattress. No, sweetheart, bad seals don’t get to touch themselves.

If you can’t come from him fucking into you, pressing your heavy leaking tits into the bed then you aren’t coming at all.

See how unfair that sounds? See how mean he has to be with you now?

He wouldn’t have needed to do that if only you came sooner to him.

If you haven’t made him bite down on your throat instead of carefully eating from your open palm, accepting whatever you were willing to offer.

But you didn’t offer a single fucking thing so he had to take the matter in his own hands.

And look where it has gotten him.

Bouncing your ass down on his cock, your greedy fucking hole squeezing him so tightly it drives him half feral.

He’d need to train you proper, sweetheart, show you how to take your captain to the hilt like a good sergeant should.

John will show you, he’s only happy to teach.

And it’s only fair if he gives you an example by stretching out your favourite Johnny right in front of you.

Only fair he gives you a demonstration of how his team did some good seal to dragon communication before you came around.

[hyunjincanraptoo]

Hi ! Could I request for prompt 19 pls it sounds so fun 😊💜

Hi baby! I hope this makes you laugh 💜 I had this doe a few days already but I couldn't make a good header but today Pinterest sent those GORGEOUS pics to me

19. If I die, clear my search history. No questions

Word count: 0.5k

No warnings

Alexa, play LO$ER=LOVER by TOMORROW X TOGETHER

You get the text at 2 PM.

Hannie: idk if I’m gonna make it… tell my mom I loved her. Also clear my search history. No questions.

Naturally, you panic. Because what if he got hit by a bike again? Or fell off his dorm loft trying to hang LED lights like last time?

You burst into the campus clinic dramatically like a k-drama protagonist, only to find Han sprawled on the stretcher, dramatically clutching his stomach like he’s starring in a soap opera.

“Jisung!” you cry.

He lifts his head.

“Ynnie… you came”, he whispers like he only got minutes left, “Hey, listen. If I die…”

“You’re not dying”, the nurse mutters as she walks past with a clipboard“He’s dehydrated and had three energy drinks on an empty stomach”

“I might feel physically fine again, but emotionally? I’m on the edge”, he mumbles.

You walk over, hands on hips, “You made me run here because you chugged Monster and didn’t eat the whole damn day?”

He groans, “It was the pink one! It tasted like ambition”

You roll your eyes and hand him the water bottle from your bag, “Here. Drink this. And what the hell was that about your search history?”

He pauses mid sip, “No questions, remember?”

Later, when he’s dozing off under a blanket and drooling slightly, curiosity gets the best of you. You pick up his phone and try typing in “skrrrlord00” as a joke. But surprisingly, the screen unlocks.

“There is something deeply wrong with this man”, you whisper. Still you have a smile on your face.

You scroll through his recent searches, finding:

“how to impress your situationship without looking desperate”

“bad hair day hacks for short kings”

“flirty compliments that sound casual but aren’t’?”

“how to ask your situationship on a date without ruining everything forever”

You clap a hand over your mouth to keep from laughing or melting into a puddle.

Because, welll… you are the situationship.

You already knew he liked you, but seeing it spelled out in desperate, nervous Google searches? It's so Han coded.

The next morning, he stumbles out of the bed in the same clothes as yesterday, hair sticking up in every direction, eyes squinting like he’s been reborn.

“Good morning”, you say sweetly, sliding a starbucks cup toward him.

He groans, “I saw the light. It looked like a vending machine. I wasn’t ready”

You laugh, “Glad you pulled through. Oh, and by the way, don’t worry. I cleared your search history”

He freezes, mid sip, “You what?!”

“I’m glad to help” you say innocently

He pales, “You looked it?”

“You said no questions but you didn't say anything about not looking”

You grin, leaning on the table.

“So. Just out of curiosity… what’s the success rate on ‘flirty compliments that sound casual but aren’t’?”

He looks like he’s considering running out the door.

“You’re evil”, he groans, burying his face in his hands.

You reach over and tug his sleeve, “You could’ve just asked me out”

He peeks through his fingers, “And ruin the mystery? The thrill? The drama?!”

“You were one search away from a PowerPoint titled ‘How to Win Yn' "

He drops his head to the table, “You know what? I’m never drinking Monster again”

You smile, brushing your fingers against his

“Just ask me next time. No need to nearly die over it”

He peeks up, cheeks pink, “Wanna go out with me?”

You shrug, “Sure. But next time, try using your brain instead of a search bar”

“Impossible”, he says, “My brain was busy thinking about you”

If you enjoyed it please consider liking and reblogging. Feedbacks, loves notes and requests are very much appreciated 😊

taglist: @hyyunjinnn , @jehhskz , @mbioooo0000 , @nightmarenyxx , @rozsdascsaptelep, @thatonegirlonhere , @notmedina127, @sweetlifeofjoy , @jeonginsleftcheek , @yelhsaa, @my-neurodivergent-world , @hyunles , @lexlikesbts , @imagine-all-the-imagines , @mysterysold , @teenagepeterpan , @hangonhyunjin

[rosenclaws]

hi, rose!! i had an idea for the headcanon about logan seeing you in a sundress for the first time. maybe because you just aren't the type of person to wear dresses or skirts at all (totally not me... totally...)

hi!! im so sorry this took forever my brain isnt braining lately. Also so real im not a dress or skirt person so it feels so weird wearing one 😩 This gets a little…spicy but no smut lol.

Origins Logan -

Oh man he thinks he’s died and gone to heaven. I mean look Logan doesn’t care what you wear as long as like it. He thinks your attractive in 5 layers of clothes or nothing at all. But its a nice summer day and you planned a nice day out. Deciding its the perfect time to break out this old sundress you found at a thrift store a while back. He does silent when you walk out of the bedroom. Apart of him wants to stay home just so no one else gets the pleasure of seeing you in it but you’d never go for that. He’s following you like a love sick puppy around town. He’s obsessed with the way it swishes and how it looks on you. He can’t keep his hands off you. When you get home he begs you to wear it more often. Especially when you’re home with him. Preferably with no underwear if he had his way

Trilogy Logan -

Absolute menace. He will not be able to help himself. It’s a nice summer day at the mansion and Jean had given you a nice sundress for your birthday. Logan was lying on his bed, grumbling about the damn heat and the noisy kids outside. You knock on his door asking if he wants to come outside with you. He gets up ready to tell you not today but then he sees you in your dress and all thoughts go out the window. You just look so fucking cute. His hand rests at your waist the whole time he’s walking with you. Shooting daggers at anyone who even thinks about looking at you. His hand may slip down a couple times and you scold him for it but he’s never sorry.

He whispers a lot of dirty things in your ear. Asking why you never put this on before and how pretty you look. When he’s sure no one is looking he even lifts it up to catch a glimpse at your underwear. Like I said menace. He really likes it and makes it very known. In fact the next week you find a bag sitting on your bed with a shorter sundress in Logan’s favorite color.

DOFP Logan -

He swears you’re trying to kill him. Honestly you can’t just wear something like that and expect him to be normal. He’s grading papers when you stop by his classroom to kiss him goodbye. You’re taking some students to the mall and you’re wearing the most gorgeous sundress. He makes a comment about never seeing this get up before while checking at your ass. You just shrug and say it’s new.

Forget those damn papers he gets up pulls you into him. Kissing you messily until you’re whining for him. He doesn’t wanna let you go but you don’t wanna keep the kids waiting and so he reluctantly loosens his grip. But not before slapping your ass loudly as you leave. He also tells you to buy more of those kinds of dresses with a wink. You tease him a little by trying on a few more at the mall and sending him pictures. Poor guy, you’re really gonna send him into cardiac arrest with those.

Old Man Logan -

He’s slightly ashamed because of the absolutely filthy thoughts in his head. He wants to take you on a nice date. It’s been forever since you had quality time together. He’s waiting for you and nearly chokes on his own spit seeing you all dolled up for him. He can’t stop playing with the hem of your dress as he drives. He kisses your cheek telling you how cute you look. He can tell you’re a little nervous because you don’t wear dresses much. He struggles to keep his hands to himself at lunch and you can tell. Its adorable seeing the wolverine so flustered at the sight of a dress

On the ride back you tell him he’s always your perfect gentleman and he tells you that the dress is making him think thoughts that aren’t as polite as you make him out to be. That sundress gets ripped when he gets a little too excited and Logan promises to buy you a new one. Fuck he’ll buy you hundreds more if you asked.

Worst Logan -

He lets you know how much he likes it right from the start. A low purr in settles in his throat the moment he lays his eyes on you. He’s very handsy as he pulls you into his chest. You ask if he likes it and he tells you he fucking loves it. He sneaks a peak down your dress and slips his hand up it once or twice. You scold him and tell him to behave and he just grins. Wade tells him to stop eye fucking you so loudly and Logan doesn’t care.

As the sun sets and the weather turns colder he’s got you close to him. Your back pressed against his chest and his hand wrapped around your waist. He pops a claw and slowly lifts the back of your dress up so that you shiver. He coos and tells you he’ll help you get real warm. Total perv hehe

[nakylvr]

— GLOW ✧ D.A

summary: a short drabble with dealer!dani expressing her feelings and vulnerability for the first time

warnings/tags: fluff, established relationship, dealer!dani au, f!reader, mild language

part of the substance series

just a little something to expand a bit on dani's feelings 🤗

"dani?"

"hm?" daniela looks over at you from her spot in bed next to you, her eyes low lidded and slightly red.

"can i ask you something?" you ask.

"anything." she nods.

you roll onto your side, one of your arms draping over her torso as you rest your head on her shoulder. "do you...am i clingy?"

"what?" daniela lets out, glancing down at you. "what do you mean?"

"well," you pause. "i guess i just think i make you uncomfortable by being affectionate and stuff," you mumble. "you always kinda freeze, and you don't look like you're all the way there with me. i just don't want you to be uncomfortable."

the words take a moment to process in dani's brain. going through it all, she does notice she does freeze. panic, almost whenever you're close to her. even now, two years later her heart still beats rapidly out of her chest just being near you.

hesitantly, she grabs your hand and intertwines your fingers with hers, causing you to look up at her. "you could never make me uncomfortable, mi vida," she says softly, bringing your hand up and kissing your knuckles. "i just...have never felt like this with anyone before." she admits quietly.

you don't say anything, waiting for her to continue, so she does.

"in all of my relationships—if that's what you would even call them, i wouldn't let them really get close to me. and i don't mean just physically, but emotionally also," daniela starts, averting her eyes to look at the tv that wasn't on. "i haven't told you this but...that wasn't the first time i got arrested. one of the girls i was with basically sent me out to a fake deal so she could take the money while i ended up in jail for a month until manon managed to get me out." she takes a shaky breath. "and i didn't let anyone get close to me for a really long time. then manon told me about this really nice, beautiful girl who was looking to find some weed from someone who 'wasn't a creep'. that girl was you." looking down at you, you can see the tears forming in her eyes, but she keeps going before you can say anything.

"i hadn't let anyone get close to me in so long, that i was scared in the beginning. i knew i was in love with you and that scared the shit out of me because i have never really loved anyone like this before. it always went to shit. nothing ever worked out. but, i couldn't let this one not work out. i was in too deep by the night you stayed over. i knew that, and i knew that if i didn't try then nothing would work out, like always. i love you so much, and i'm never going to stop loving you even when i'm dead. you mean the world to me. you never make me uncomfortable, i love the affection and the way you are with me. i just am still getting used to it." she finishes, pressing another gentle kiss on your knuckles.

you move your hand to cup her cheek, looking back at her with softness and warmth in your eyes as you wipe away the stray tear that fell down her face with your thumb. "i didn't know that," you say quietly. "i'm so sorry, daniela."

daniela can spot the signs of guilt seeping through your expression realizing you essentially made her relive that experience, and she shakes her head. "it's okay, you don't have to apologize," she tells you.

"i love you," you whisper. "more than anything else."

"i love you too," she says in the same voice. "i always will."

[flvvffy]

. ۫ ꣑ৎ . ❝ 𝐈 𝐃𝐎𝐍'𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐘𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄...❞

wc: 1k. proofread this time. contains heavy angst, mentions of blood. thank you for 700!!

you loved your boyfriend satoru. i mean what was not to like. he had unrealistically beautiful blue eyes, his smile always made you feel some type of way, he was tall, ridiculously handsome and of course his muscles were to die for. he looked like every woman's dream man and what every man aspired to be.

he was incredibly nice and silly. always telling you whatever was on his mind, carrying you whenever he felt like it, biting your nose when you were acting cute. he was perfect. this relationship was everything to you.

you would always try to calm the argument before you said things that you would later regret. always making sure that he does not go a day without smiling especially if he's had a bad day. you were trying to be good to him the way he was always good to you.

and you managed to be together for three years. three solid years and you were the happiest. but satoru...satoru wasn't happy. not at all actually. the more time you spent together, the more he realized that he was wasting his time with you.

your voice that he used to love so much became so annoying. feeling like a thousand tiny men drilling holes in his brain. do not even get him started on your laugh. he actually had to reduce the number of jokes he would tell you so that he would not hear it at all.

he started coming up with excuses so that he wouldn't come home earlier. "are you gonna be home soon, baby", you asked with a pout and he could hear it in your voice which he absolutely despised.

"sorry, i have a spontaneous mission tonight that'll take up almost my entire night", he would say no emotion on his face and he's so glad you're not on video call.

"alright. stay safe out there. love you"

"yeah...love you too...", he would immediately end the call and run his fingers through his hair. he didn't do this everytime. only at least twice a week, otherwise you would get suspicious.

he didn't like this. he didn't like the fact that he was betraying you like this, lying to you. but the thought of you crying after he reveals that he hates you, especially after such a long time, bothers him. one part of him despises it while the other just feels pity.

he would give you fake smiles and everytime you kissed, he prevented his hands from roaming around, otherwise he could just push you away. sex was also like a chore to him now. he would put you into positions where he wouldn't be able to see your face since he grew to hate it.

but one day, he decided enough was enough. he had to end it.

"i found this really cool spot where we can watch the sunset. wanna go?", he asked and almost jumped in joy when you said yes. you thought his smile was just him acting cute, but he had other sinister intentions.

you packed a picnic basket and got in his car. you stopped outside of an unfinished building and you looked at him kinda funny. "this is the place?"

"yup", he said and walked inside. you followed suit and walked up the stairs with him all the way to the roof. you set up the picnic and sat at the edge of the roof. you rested your head on his shoulder and help onto his arm.

before you knew it, the sun was setting. it really was beautiful. the pink orange and red hues mixing so well together. it was mesmerizing. you looked up at him and planted a kiss on his cheek and he gave you a small smile. you took out your phone and snapped a picture of the both of you. smile so bright looking as pretty as ever as satoru only looked at you.

you got up and so did he. once you cleaned up and put back everything into the basket he suddenly carried you into his strong arms princess style.

"toru! at least give me a warning next time", you giggled and dropped the basket. but he didn't say anything. he only looked ahead, his heart beating in his ears and you noticed.

"toru...are you alright?", you asked and than was when he started heading closer to the edge. your eyes widened. you looked into his and they were glassy. his jaw was clenched and his breathing was getting heavy.

"what are you doing?!", you asked shifting uncomfortable and looked down. you were pretty high up and all you could see were the cars zooming and people just walking by. you grabbed onto his shirt absolutely petrified.

"i...i'm sorry...", he whispered and your eyes started watering.

"no...no please gojo don't do this...PLEASE!", he only closed his eyes and whispered an apology again. and then he did it. he did what was on his mind for so long. he threw you off the building. the weight in his arms gone as you fell with a sharp scream of his name and before he knew it, he heard a splat and then another scream.

he fell down onto his ass and looked at his hands. he had actually thrown you off the building. he actually did it. his heart was beating so heard he barely heard anything else. his hands were trembling and his breathing laboured. he peeked down and saw your body in a pool of blood, limbs bent awkwardly as multiple people tried to help you, making phone calls for ambulances and the police. he turned back before anyone could see him and took in a deep breathe to calm himself down.

you were gone. you were finally gone. no more annoying voice, no more ear splitting laugh, no more...you. he got up and picked up the basket and turned around heading for the exit with a smile.

"finally...she's finally gone...i can breathe..."

taglist: @vegasbabyyyy @realalpacorn @rizzraa @mrsriddle13

. ۫ ꣑ৎ . 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐃 © 𝐅𝐋𝐕𝐕𝐅𝐅𝐘

[bella-rose29]

there is literally no reason to use ai

none at all

I'm going on a rant I'm sorry but it pains me so much to see people using it because where are your critical thinking skills??? this is the point of being human, is thinking and creating for ourselves so that we can also create joy. not just joy for us, but joy for others, because whatever work you put out someone out there will enjoy it.

as a writer and someone who dabbles in art it makes me so sad when I see ai based work, because these things are what make us human!!!!

we've been telling stories since the beginning of humanity!!! we've been creating art since then too!!! it's how we communicate and interact and express ourselves, and best of all it doesn't cost the planet.

there's one specific post that always comes to mind when ai is mentioned now, and it's someone saying "I will never understand how high schoolers managed before chat. your telling me you sat here and wrote a 600 word essay by yourself..."

yes, the wrong your was used. yes, the caption said "yet I'm still failing".

600 words is nothing. I can sit and write 600 words in about half an hour. yes okay I'm a fast writer and even faster typer, but 600 words is nothing, and the reason I can write it so fast is because I developed the skills for it. if people use ai for schoolwork then people will get dumber, because they won't develop the things they need to be able to write properly. and I don't just mean essays and stories (because yeah I'm predominantly a fic writer), but basic things like problem solving and writing a simple email.

my uni degree is classics so I have to write super long essays (6000 words is the longest I've done, the rest are between 2k and 3k words), and I have to use my brain for it. I can't just plug the question into chat gpt and hand that in, not just because we have ai checkers but because I need an opinion and I need to analyse and debate and think. 600 words of essay is nothing, but it sets you up for doing longer pieces like 2500 words of essay. I'm aware that not everyone will study a subject that needs essays, and not everyone will go to uni, but this stuff is important.

as an artist (ish) it upsets me because I know how much work and time and effort goes into creating a piece. my mum does a lot of painting and she spends hours and hours and hours on one piece, and feels so great about herself after because she can look at it and say wow, *I* did that. art has done wonders for all my family, and it does wonders for me. it doesn't have to be perfect but that's the whole point, because it shows that a human created it. by using ai it diminishes the artists who work so hard to get their pieces out there for people to see and enjoy

so yeah, there's no reason to use ai. not ever, not even a little bit. I have no idea how coherent any of this is, but oh well

[zepskies]

hiii lovely happy wednesday 🫶🏽:) random question while i’m on my 10 :D this kind of goes hand in hand with your coffee shop headcanons if you squint, but in your opinion what coffee shop pastry would the boys (your favorite jackles characters) choose? 🤎

if that makes sense, like I think beau would really like our dulce de leche cheese danish :p or like ben might like a jalapeño cheese bagel lmao

again I loveee your insights <3 it makes work more entertaining for sure cause then i’m thinking of your responses at random times lol 💗 + I hope you’re having a wonderful week !!🫂

Happy Wednesday, friend! 😘 Oh yay! I love your random questions, and I love coffee shop pastries. 🥐 ☕

Dulce de leche Danish sounds amaziiiiing. 😩 And thank you!! I'm flattered that you love my insights - and that my little rambles infiltrate your brain! lolol 🥰💜 Hope you're having a great week too, hun! Mine is ok so far. I have a lot coming up tomorrow, so this is a fun distraction until then! 😂

HEADCANON: Coffee Shop Pastry Orders

Dean Winchester

*snorts* You mean the human garbage disposal?

We all know Dean's not picky about food. Though since he's drinking an espresso in his coffee order headcanon, I think he'd go for something indulgent to fill his stomach, like a cheese Danish, a couple of donuts, or if they have it, a brookie. 😂

He's very happy to show it to you and Sam when he brings it over to your table, strolling over on those bowed legs. Sam, of course, wears that half amused, half judgy look of his.

"It's a cookie mashed up with a brownie, Sam. Best of both worlds."

Beau Arlen

Beau the basic latte guy needs a basic (but delicious) coffee shop confection to go with it, so I'm going to say he's into coffee cake.

He likes them crumblies on top and a nice, warm cinnamon swirl in his cake. 👌🏽

Just be warned. He's probably going to have you order him another slice of cake while he's still working on the first one.

Soldier Boy (Ben)

Like Dean, this guy's not all that picky about food post-captivity. Of course he likes good food, but he's also highly indulgent in most respects.

"I like what I fucking like," as he often tells you with a smirk. That goes for food, drugs, and frisky women (of almost all ages).

That being said, since we paired him with a cold brew, he'll probably want something classic, like himself: a glazed donut or a slice of marble pound cake with that thin strip of icing on top.

However, I think he could be persuaded (by you) to order something a little adventurous. He'd be game enough to try a jalapeño cheese bagel, with hash browns, and that donut and/or slice of pound cake on the side...

And he'll probably tell them to pack him up an extra bagel for the road. 😂 🥯

Russell Shaw

Russell's another one who's highly self-indulgent lol. He ain't picky about food, that's for sure. He'll eat junk food just as easily as a five-course meal from a Michelin star restaurant.

But since he got paired with a flat white, I think he'd get the biggest cinnamon roll he can find. He'd ask if they could warm it up for him, get that icing all warm and running down the sides, sticky and sweet.

And he looks at you mischievously while he licks his fingers afterward. ✌🏼

(He's only satisfied when he makes you blush.)

AN: Do you agree with these? Got other pastry orders for these guys? 💜

I love working on these HCs every time, no matter how simple or complex the prompt is. 😂

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⋆˙⟡ Get notified when more HCs drop! Follow my fic library blog - @zepskieswrites - with notifications on. 💜

Dean Winchester Imagines

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Beau Arlen Masterlist

Soldier Boy Masterlist

Russell Shaw Masterlist

Main Masterlist 

Dean, Beau, Soldier Boy + Russell Tag List (Part 1)

@kazsrm67 @foxyjwls007 @luci-in-trenchcoats @lamentationsofalonelypotato @waynes-multiverse

@mostlymarvelgirl @roseblue373 @this-is-me19 @emily-winchester

@deans-spinster-witch @sanscas @hobby27 @kaleldobrev @spnwoman

@samanddeaninatrenchcoat @pieandmonsters @globetrotter28 @midnightmadwoman @chevroletdean

@lyarr24 @ladysparkles78 @spnfamily-j2 @deansbbyx @chernayawidow

@mimaria420 @stoneyggirl2 @fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like @waywardxwords @twinkleinadiamondsky

@my-stories-vault @0ccvltism @rizlowwritessortof @cookiechipdough @mrsjenniferwinchester

@fromcaintodean @k-slla @jackles010378 @deanbrainrotwritings @alwaystiredandconfused

@mrlonelycat @deans-daydream @leigh70 @aylacavebear @kmc1989

@siampie @rubyvhs @winchestergirl2 @winchester-whiskey

[all-with-angel]

Tumblr BETTER NOT DELETE THIS AGAIN.

Anyhow, here are some smut prompts that have been rotting my brain so now I'm sharing them with all of you:

MDNI. NSFW under the cut

Magical girl!Gojo x injured civilian!reader

Uh oh! After getting hit by one of the villains attacks, you're left corrupted with a brain that'll turn into mush without the proper treatment! Making you one of the villains braindead lackeys! Lucky for you, Magical Girl!Gojo will heal you right up with his super rainbow healing cum beam 😍!!

Demon King!Sukuna x Hero's Sidekick!Reader

The 'hero' left you to die after months of not ever appreciating the work you put in for the entire party, with your life in the hands of the infamous demon king, he gives your life purpose again. With all the love, respect and mindblowing sex you deserve 👍

Sold off!Gojo x Mafia boss!Reader

Now hear me out. Hear me out. The classic "I was sold off to a mafia boss to pay my fathers debts" except the roles are reversed and your Gojo is WAYYYY too into it. Maybe not as smutty and maybe more on the rom-com way of things but hes a desperate guy and will pound you into the mattress till daylight comes (as a thank you for taking such great care of him)

Kraken!Toji x Lighthouse keeper!Reader

It's lonely being stuck in a lighthouse everyday, but it's honest work to lead every kind of ship to safety. One night, you seem to lure something that isn't a ship to your lighthouse. (And yeah this one is for the tentacles. What about it.)

Ghostface!Gojo + Ghostface!Geto x Detective!Reader

You're close to finding out who the killer is, only to find out that there were two all along. And they want to pay you back for being such a good detective and finding their hideout.. In a secluded area.. with no one around for miles.. with no signal.. Did I mention your radio was broken?

Dilf!Sukuna + Milf!Yorozu x Reader

Imagine bagging a (RICH) married couple by being a broke and stressed out uni student 🤩 What a dream. Anyway, you come over to your best friend's house while they're out and spend some time getting to know their parents. Personally.

Also theres not alot of Yorozu content and I kinda want to change that

Nerdjo x Playboy/Jock!Reader

Your parents signed you up for tutoring lessons you didn't really care about, but hey, at least your tutor was cute. But the usually timid and bashful guy was getting fed up with your dismissive and lazy attitude, deciding that this session, he'd teach you a lesson you wouldn't forget.

Sentient Robot!Uraume x Creator!Reader

You demonstrate to the board of directors just how efficient your creation can be- Cooking, cleaning, fucking and laundry, they can just about do anything! (Yes, you two fuck in front of a crowd. They're very impressed after so it's fine!!)

Scientist!Shoko x Creation!Reader

She's keeping you, much to the chagrin of the board who want you gone. But how could she get rid of you? Her perfect little creation, always at her beck and call, always ready to help her relieve some stress by putting your head between her legs <3

Clones!Sukuna x Reader

Idk much about this one, all I know is that all three of them fuck you silly

Puppyboy!Toji x Kitty!Reader

Not much to say either, mostly thought about this because i KNEW what title I'd give it if I ever did write it. But I'm thinking stray pup that you took in and showed sweet love n care to, now hes big and grown thanks to you. Hes at that phase where hes just so needy and doesnt know where else to go to feel good except you, so when you finally relent and help him release all that pent up frustration, he cant get enough.

Had to rewrite this so it's way shorter than what i first wrote but thats ok 🫶 (think 2-3 paragraphs condensed into 1)

These are all nasty smh 😔 If anyone at all likes the sound of these do tell me your thoughts 👀 if any of them gives you inspiration to write something, please tag me!!

I give you all FULL permission to take these ideas and roll with them🙏

[lazy-ahh]

﹌⋆｡𖦹 ˚ 𓇼 ˚｡⋆⊹ ﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ⋆｡𖦹 ˚ 𓇼 ˚｡⋆﹌

Have you ever thought how Mark would react if he had a boyfriend that's husband material? 🤔

Imagine the reader likes to help Debbie out whenever he feels like it, and Mark is watching him help Debbie and thinks to himself, " I NEED husband him up ASAP. "

﹌⋆｡𖦹 ˚ 𓇼 ˚｡⋆⊹ ﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ⋆｡𖦹 ˚ 𓇼 ˚｡⋆﹌

This is kinda related to the fic that was about my request but eh!!

– Number 1 fan!! 🌊 anon

HUSBAND MATERIAL

pairing mark grayson x male reader

in which mark grayson realizes two things: (1) his sharp-tongued, emotionally constipated boyfriend is absolutely husband material, and (2) he might actually combust if he doesn’t put a ring on it soon.

taglist @hhoneylemon , @queermaeda , @yujensstuff , @thebatsgreatestfailure , @roryroro , @cynvia

the first time you met debbie, mark was a mess. not because he thought you wouldn’t like her—no, he knew you’d love her, because debbie was impossible not to love—but because his brain kept conjuring up worst-case scenarios. what if she brought up that time he cried during titanic when he was twelve? what if she mentioned his weird phase where he tried to grow a mustache and failed spectacularly? what if she pulled out the baby photos?

he could already see it—debbie grinning, oblivious, while you slowly turned to him with that razor-sharp look of yours, the one that said "i will never let you live this down." your eyebrow would arch, just slightly, and mark would have to resist the urge to phase through the floor in embarrassment.

but instead, you surprised him. you shook her hand with that same quiet confidence you carried everywhere, offered her a rare, barely-there smile, and said, "it’s nice to finally meet you, mrs. grayson." your voice was even, polite, but there was something underneath it—respect, maybe even warmth.

and just like that, debbie’s eyes lit up. "oh, sweetheart, call me debbie," she said, already pulling you into a hug you didn’t stiffen away from (which, coming from you, was basically a declaration of love).

mark exhaled, watching as you let debbie fuss over you without so much as a sarcastic remark—which, coming from you, was also basically a miracle. there was something painfully tender about the way you tolerated her motherly instincts, how you didn’t pull away when she fixed your collar or how you actually listened when she started rambling about mark’s childhood like it wasn’t the most embarrassing thing in the world.

his chest felt too tight. you were always so guarded with everyone else, all sharp edges and dry comebacks, but here you were—letting his mom drag you into the kitchen to "help" (which really meant her talking your ear off while you chopped vegetables with terrifying precision). and the worst part? you liked her. he could tell by the way your shoulders relaxed just a fraction, by the barely-there quirk of your lips when she laughed.

god, you were going to be insufferable about this later. not because you’d tease him (though you definitely would), but because now you had leverage. now you knew exactly how to make him melt—just by being nice to his mom, of all things.

mark was so, so screwed.

mark leans against the doorway, watching the way your hands move with knife-sharp efficiency against the cutting board. the afternoon light catches the silver band of your watch—the one debbie gave you for your birthday—as your wrists flick in perfect rhythm. there's something intimate about seeing you like this, sleeves pushed up to reveal those faint scars across your forearms, the ones you never explain but he's traced with his lips countless times. your brows knit together in concentration, but your mouth is softer than usual, not quite smiling but... settled. at peace. it's a good look on you, mark thinks.

debbie bumps her shoulder against yours, flour-dusted fingers gesturing wildly as she recounts mark's pancake disaster. "the smoke alarm went off three times," she giggles, and you make that sound—not quite a laugh, just air rushing through your nose as you keep chopping carrots with military precision. but then you surprise mark by muttering, "he still burns toast at least twice a week," without even looking up, and debbie gasps like you've just handed her classified information.

mark's mouth falls open. you're gossiping. with his mom. the same you who usually communicates in grunts before coffee is now quietly adding, "last tuesday he tried to make grilled cheese in the microwave," and debbie leans in closer as if you were whispering the secrets of the universe. "let's just say i have to buy a new one."

"markus sebastian grayson!" she shrieks, while you finally glance up just to shoot him that smug, knowing look—the one that should annoy him but just makes his pulse stutter instead.

it's terrifying how easily you fit here, between the chipped tiles and his mom's laughter. the same way you fit into mark's life without him even realizing—leaving his favorite energy drinks in the door pocket of the fridge where he always looks first, or how you "accidentally" buy too many of those awful snacks he likes whenever you grocery shop. you pretend it's coincidence when you throw his wrinkled shirts in the dryer before school the next day, when you leave ibuprofen and water on his nightstand after particularly rough patrols.

and god, the way you take care of his mom too—replacing her favorite spatula when it breaks before she even notices, memorizing how she takes her tea (two sugars, splash of milk, in the robin egg blue mug because it "tastes better" that way). you roll your eyes when she hugs you but never actually dodge it, and mark's pretty sure you've developed some kind of silent communication system where you just know when the other needs coffee or space or someone to listen.

your knife hits the cutting board with steady thunks, the rhythm syncopated with debbie's laughter as she dramatically recounts more of mark's childhood failures. you're not smiling, not really, but there's something unbearably soft in the way your shoulders relax, in the quiet "tch" you make when she tries to sneak more vegetables onto your cutting board. mark presses his temple against the doorframe, overwhelmed by how badly he wants to freeze this moment—you in his mother's kitchen, sunlight catching the silver in your watch, looking for all the world like you belong here.

mark presses a palm to his sternum like he can physically hold in the swell of emotion threatening to crack him open. it's too much. you're too much. this version of you that exists between the space of his childhood home and his mother's affection, this you that lets yourself be soft in ways no one else gets to see. it makes him want to fold you into his arms and never let go, makes him want to kiss the frown lines between your brows until they smooth out forever.

debbie wipes her hands on her apron, glancing at the clock. "oh! i almost forgot! i need to send some documents to a client," she says, already moving toward the stairs. "don't burn the kitchen down while i'm gone." the wooden steps creak under her hurried footsteps, leaving just the two of you in the warm, spice-scented kitchen.

the rhythmic tap of your knife against the cutting board fills the silence. mark watches the way your fingers curl protectively around the onion, how your wrist flicks with each precise slice. he pushes off the doorway and drifts closer, drawn to you like gravity. when he reaches to steal a piece of carrot from your neat little piles, you smack his hand away without even looking.

"you're staring," you mutter, the knife flashing as you dice the onion into perfect slices. your tone is flat, but mark doesn't miss the way your ears have gone slightly pink.

"can't help it," he grins, crowding into your space anyway. his chest presses against your back as he peers over your shoulder. "you're cute when you're all domestic. look at you, so caring and nurturing."

you elbow him in the ribs, but there's no real force behind it. "shut up. if you're just going to stand there, make yourself useful." you jerk your head toward the pile of unpeeled potatoes in the sink.

mark makes a show of sighing dramatically but grabs the peeler anyway. he bumps his hip against yours as he takes up position at your side, close enough that your sleeves brush with every movement. "so," he says, scraping at a stubborn potato eye, "you and my mom, huh? trading my deepest secrets even though i'm right here?"

you huff, but he sees the corner of your mouth twitch. "she started it." the admission comes grudgingly, like you're confessing to a crime. your knife stills for just a second before you add, quieter, "she's... nice."

the simple words make mark's chest go tight. he watches the way your shoulders relax when you think no one's looking, the careful attention you pay to making each vegetable slice even. when he bumps your shoulder gently, you don't pull away—just grumble something about "personal space" while continuing to let him lean against you.

the potato peelings pile up in the sink as mark works, his movements slower than yours but just as focused. every so often, he'll "accidentally" flick water at you, grinning when you scowl but don't actually move away. the kitchen fills with the sounds of sizzling oil, the scrape of knives, and the quiet, comfortable silence that only comes when two people know each other down to their bones.

mark's voice comes out softer than he means it to, fingers stilling against the half-peeled potato in his hands. "i wasn't lying though," he murmurs, letting his temple rest against the curve of your shoulder. he can feel the warmth of you through the fabric of your turtleneck, can smell that stupidly expensive cologne you pretend you don't care about. when he tilts his head up, you're already looking down at him—and there it is. that fleeting, unguarded expression you only ever wear when you think no one's watching, all quiet wonder and something painfully tender. your knife has stopped mid-chop, fingers frozen around the handle.

"you look relaxed and handsome like this," mark whispers, watching with delight as your ears go pink. you open your mouth, no doubt to deliver some scathing remark, but all that comes out is a flustered huff before you pointedly return to decimating the vegetables. mark doesn't miss how your shoulders hunch slightly, how you're suddenly very invested in making sure each carrot slice is perfectly even. he grins, pressing a quick kiss to your flushed cheek before going back to his potatoes, cheeks warm.

the moment shatters when debbie sighs dramatically from the doorway, arms crossed over. "look at the two of you," she coos, leaning against the counter with a smirk that spells trouble. "peeling potatoes together like some old married couple. should i start calling you my son-in-law now, [y/n], or do i have to wait for the official paperwork?"

you nearly slice your finger clean off. "mrs. grayson," you hiss, voice strangled, while mark chokes on his own spit. but debbie just waves a hand, eyes sparkling as she takes in the way you're both flushed to the tips of your ears, how mark's fingers have tangled unconsciously in the hem of your shirt.

"i'll be looking forward to the day you two get married," she continues breezily, nudging mark with her hip as she steals a slice of cucumber. "that way [y/n] can't make any more excuses as to why he can't call me mom." she pops the vegetable in her mouth with a wink, utterly pleased with herself when you make a noise like a deflating balloon.

mark watches, equal parts horrified and endeared, as you stare at debbie with wide eyes, knife dangling limply from your fingers. your mouth opens and closes several times before you finally manage a strangled, "that's—you can't just—" before giving up entirely, turning back to the cutting board with enough force to worry about the structural integrity of the vegetables.

"mark," you finally grit out after a long pause, shoulders tense, "control your mother."

but mark's too busy pressing his face into your back to muffle his laughter, arms wrapping around your waist as debbie cackles in the background. he can feel your heartbeat rabbiting against his cheek, can feel the way you're trying (and failing) to suppress your own smile. and when you eventually elbow him halfheartedly, muttering something about "insufferable graysons," it's with the same careful gentleness you reserve just for them.

his mom's words echo in mark’s head long after she’s left the kitchen to relax and drink wine. married. son-in-law. the concepts should feel too big, too soon, but they slot into his chest like they’ve always belonged there. the knife slips in his grip, nicking his thumb—invincible, brought to his knees by the mental image of you rolling your eyes at him over shared tax documents.

and that’s when it hits him, sudden and certain as sunrise:

i need to husband him up asap.

because you’re it for him. the way you patch up his wounds after missions with clinical precision but trembling fingers, how you always know exactly where to aim your grapple hook to catch him when he’s falling. the way you pretend to hate his terrible jokes but he’s seen the way you scribble them down later in that little black notebook of yours. you fit against his life like a puzzle piece he didn’t know was missing—grumbling through morning patrols together, bickering over takeout containers in the fridge, your pinky secretly linking with his under movie theater armrests.

mark wants it all. wants to memorize the exact shade of your scowls and loving looks at 6 AM, wants to keep finding your bobby pins (for emergencies like picking a lock according to you) mixed in with his spare change, wants to grow old—

the thought stutters like a skipped record.

because he can't.

you can. you're human—all fragile bones and fleeting heartbeats, temporary in ways that make his ribs ache. the knife slips again, drawing a thin red line across his knuckle, but he barely registers the sting. not when the realization crashes over him like a tidal wave: he'll still look like this when time etches silver into your hair, when laugh lines frame your mouth like parentheses around all your secret smiles. he'll order your stupidly complicated coffee (double shot, chocolate dusting, exactly three ice cubes) for centuries after you're gone, and the weight of that knowledge leaves him breathless.

but then your hands are there—always there—pressing a bandage over his careless wound with that familiar scowl. "idiot," you mutter, but your fingers linger against his pulse point a second too long. and mark thinks—if forever isn't written in the stars for them, he'll carve it into every moment you share. he'll love you with the desperation of a sunflower clinging to sunlight, memorizing the way your eyelashes cast shadows at noon and how your throat moves when you swallow your too-sweet tea.

"what's that look for?" you grumble, swiping a thumb across his cheekbone. there's flour in your hair (from you helping with baking dessert earlier), he notices, dusting your strands like premature gray, and the sight punches a wounded noise from his chest.

mark catches your wrist, pressing his lips to the delicate bones beneath your skin. "nothing," he murmurs against your knuckles, tasting salt and dish soap. "just thinking about how much i love you."

you make that tch sound he adores, but your fingers slot between his like they were made to fit there. "sentimental fool," you mutter, but the way your thumb strokes absent circles against his wrist betrays you.

he chuckles, nosing at the sensitive spot behind your ear—the one that makes you shiver—and you immediately shove at his face with your free hand. "don't you dare—" but it's too late; he's already mouthing at your jugular, teeth scraping just hard enough to make your breath hitch. you taste like home and that bergamot shampoo you pretend you don't carefully select. when he soothes the bite with his tongue, you groan but tilt your head to give him better access, fingers tightening in his hair like you can't decide whether to push or pull. good thing for you (and for him or else you would've kicked his ass), your turtleneck can hide the love bite that was forming.

"asshole," you mutter halfheartedly, but you're leaning into him anyway, the side of your head resting against his when he finally settles for wrapping his arms around your waist and his chin on your shoulder. he can feel your heartbeat against his chest, steady and alive and here.

after a quiet moment, you clear your throat awkwardly. "i... reserved that table at le bernardin. tomorrow. seven sharp." you won't meet his eyes, focusing very intently on rearranging the chopped vegetables into unnecessarily precise lines. "don't be late. again." the unspoken 'i know you've been stressed lately so i got us a table at your current favourite restaurant' hangs between you, soft and vulnerable in ways you rarely allow. good thing mark's good at speaking your language.

mark's throat tightens. this is how you love—in practical gestures and gruff concern, in remembering his favorite comics and hyper fixations and pretending it's no big deal. he presses his smile into your shoulder, inhaling the familiar scent of your detergent and that faint metallic hint from your throwing knives. "yes, dear," he teases, just to watch your ears turn pink. now he's thinking if gold would look good on you. of course it would, everything would look good on you. he just needs to find out which one you'd prefer.

and as he watches you meticulously wipe down the counter—always cleaning up his messes, always staying—mark thinks, yeah. he's definitely going to put a ring on it.

heyyy 🌊 anon! finally got to your request and i’m so glad you asked for this because god, we all need more of this soft, domestic fluff in our lives. spent two hours pouring my soul into this 2.8k one-shot and loved every second of it—like, please, i need this. i need markus sebastian grayson’s dumb ahh in my life. and debbie?? absolute queen. would let her adopt me in a heartbeat. would literally lover her as a mother-in-law :']

[keepingitformyself]

nothing gentle lives here

A/N: shauna shipman fic BOOYAAAA!!!! also first time writing smut pls go easy on me guys.

synopsis: she’s blood, ash and girlhood burnt at the altar.

pairings: shauna shipman x reader

genre: fluff in not its usual fluff form but more rough edged and dangerous.

warnings: typical yellowjackets violence, smut, sexual themes, sadist sex kinda, cannibalism, shauna shipman being shauna shipman. cutting people open, vegans/vegetarians dni tbh.

please do not repost my work anywhere for any reason at all. if you do see this happen to any of my stories, please let me know. thank you x.

you were all just girls before this. so, what are you now?

you find yourself asking this same question over and over again. constantly racking through your brain how you’ve all become so unapologetically mad, and cruel. if what you’ve done has crossed some invisible line of morality that you can no longer go back. if you can even go back.

shauna still kisses you with a fire you’ve never known before. something you’re sure would have never existed to you had you ever been on that plane. she touches you like she’s never been more sure of something in her whole life.

like, she’s never actually existed until now. as if being out here is the best thing that could have happened to some of you.

you hate to say that there’s some truth in that. in some twisted and haunted way.

when she decided that everyone must stay behind, instead of accepting rescue, she left no room for argument. you watched in disbelief, the grief slowly flowing through you as it’s decided that, no, you won’t go home. not today.

shauna finds you crying in front of the small lake, just a few hours later.

she pulls you in as if she isn’t the reason why you’re hurting. she kisses all your tears away, shushes you, tells you it’s okay. it isn’t.

“we can’t go back, baby,” she whispers into your hair. her words make you cry even harder into the warmth of her neck. “we’re better off here,” you think, maybe that’s okay.

maybe it is fine. because truly, something this ugly, this violent, and beautiful doesn’t belong in the world out there, anyway. that maybe the wilderness is where you’re meant to be.

because even if you’re scared to admit it to yourself, a world outside of this place is just a thin guise you’re all pretending isn’t close to cracking.

and you love her. you love shauna. every dangerous, violent, grief-ridden side of her. you’ve seen her kill, seen the way she doesn’t even flinch at the sight of barbarity anymore. she smiles at it instead.

she’s kissed you with the blood of others on her lips, and you loved the taste of it. she’s handed you her blade and led you through skinning the fur off of animals you’d later eat. you’d see the way her eyes would gleam at the sight of your innocence being continuously stripped away. she loves that she’s the reason for how you unravel.

you used to only be able to cut through meat with your eyes closed. used to cover your ears so you wouldn’t hear a deer cry as it took its last breath. only able to feel the way the muscles spasm beneath your fingers. you never looked, never listened.

now, your hand no longer shakes at the weight of her knife in your hands. now, you meet shauna’s eyes as blood pools out.

but you still let out shaky breaths when she licks the blood off your fingers.

“you’re getting better and better,” she murmurs, taking the blade from your hands and finishing off the dead carcass in front of you. “i’m proud.”

you smile at her words.

you were all just girls before. you know that. you think you’re something more now. maybe worse. you don’t know. you don’t really care.

because you’re feral, you’re violent, you’re messy, but you’re loved.

and shauna loves you in ways that couldn’t exist back home.

she loves you roughly, madly, and on purpose. like everything only exists for both of you. like you’re the only thing that exists to her.

and that version of you that existed before her? the one before the crash. she’s gone now.

sometimes you hate her for it. but you love her for it more.

because being with shauna feels like you’re finally real. and whatever is left of you is hers.

even now, as you watch with your mouth agape, natalie is forced to slash open the corpse of your dead friend. mari. you’re scared. grief-stricken. you want to cry. but you want to feel shauna’s cold hands in yours more.

she watches as you stare at the way mari’s blood pools onto the snow-covered ground. you’re breath is shaky.

she doesn’t say anything. she wears a proud smile and lets you exist in the moment instead.

later, when she’s in her antler queen cloak and has finished leading everyone through a feast, she catches your wrist as you return to camp.

“say something,” you think she’s pleading for it. like she wants the reassurance that this is what she’s like now, and if you still want her this way. it hits you all then. mari. your teammate. your friend. is dead. and you ate her.

the hot tears in your eyes feel good against the cold of the air. you still don’t say anything. shauna lunges forward and kisses you. your eyes well up again at the taste of iron and meat on her lips.

her hand grips the back of your neck, her fingers tighten in your hair. she pulls back again, breathless, eyes wide and blown.

“this is the only way love can exist for me,” she breathes. “can you live with that?”

you nod. and kiss her back again. all teeth and bite.

shauna leads you back to your hut, and you let her stake her claim. she deserves it, after all. she’s your queen now.

you let her press you into your cot on the floor.

she drinks in your sighs, and you feel your body burn up at having her breathless on top of you.

you give her exactly what she wants when you feel her fingers press crescents into the inside of your thighs.

you spread yourself, soft and obedient, not because she asks you to or because she expects it, but because you want to.

and you smile at her sadisticness when she bites down on your neck, and praises you when you let out sounds for her. you revel in the feel of her. you try to ignore the biting cold just beyond the thin fur that covers the entrance.

it’s easy to when every time she touches you it burns. and it feels fucking amazing.

you gasp when she gets down to that spot right at the apex of your thighs. you try to trap her there. like if you close your thighs, maybe she’d listen.

she does. thank god, she does.

she laughs at your neediness. and pulls you open wider, rougher. like you’re hers to claim, to shape, to ruin.

“i love you like this,” she says fondly. you think, i do too.

you whimper immediately when her mouth finds you. it’s obscene the way you buck into her, the way you ground yourself by threading your fingers into her tangled hair.

there’s only her now. her mouth. her hands. the burn of her name caught in your throat as she pushes you closer and closer to unraveling.

she holds you steady when you start to shake, groaning into you like she’s starving and you’re her salvation. like you’re the last good thing left in this godforsaken wilderness, and she intends to consume every part of you.

then, just as you’re about to, she replaces her mouth with her fingers. and pushes her lips towards yours as she swallows your moans.

“you know, if you died out here,” she pants against your lips. “i’d eat your heart first.”

maybe you should be scared, or turned off at the kind of joke she’d make in such a crude moment, with her hands between your legs. but you’re too gone to care. too blissed out. even if you know she means it.

“you’d keep it safe?”

she smiles wicked and beautifully. the kind of smile you know you’d never forget. the kind of smile that brings you that much closer to the edge. “i’d keep it in me forever.”

and at her words, at the terrible truth in them, you let out one final shriek. your body arches, and you let out a silent scream, anchoring yourself on shaua’s shoulders.

she watches you with that same look she wears whenever she’s cutting into flesh and meat. the one that’s all teeth and grin. you hear the trees start to howl, the cold starts to bite, but she still doesn’t move. she’s still inside you, palm pressed to your chest.

and you let her take from you again.

[xaythefreak]

Hey, its me the "old man bots yaoi couples" enjoyer the one who sent to you. Im here to bring me more because im quite normal about drift and ratchet. Very normal...

(Why have one bot, when you can have two?.. heh.. it's a package deal. Im so sigma/hj/silly)

Anyway-!! AHEM burps this at u:

Drift truly believes you’re the missing third spark to his and Ratchet’s bond— that Primus wants the three of you to be together. Every word, glance, or moment of kindness from you is a sign. Even your fear? Drift chalks it up to being overwhelmed by fate.

Drift constantly calls you little one, starlight, or our spark. Yes, our. He already sees you as part of the bond. (Sweetspark, sparkmate..... we need more nicknames, like- "my sweet discord kitten e-liaison. Our darling mate human-") gets shot 98 times

He tells Ratchet every night how lucky they are to have "found you".

Ratchet isn’t delusional— he knows you didn’t agree to any of this. But that doesn’t matter. You’re his patient, his responsibility. His.

He monitors your vitals 24/7, programs the doors to restrict your movement, and disables any datapad you try to send out.

Ratchet is sharper, more grounded— he knows your relationship isn’t real… yet. But that doesn’t stop him from locking down your access routes and tracking your vitals obsessively. (Him and the other scientists bots or smth. A working together. Brainstorm and percy is right at his back yayaya)

He rationalizes his obsession as safety: the Lost Light is dangerous, and your body is too fragile for normal routines. (Be so fr like, imagine if we sneeze or crack our fingers infront of him and he's go haywire and panic mode, thinking if we're terribly ill or sick or smth.)

He controls what you eat, where you sleep, and who you talk to— because no one else is qualified to handle a human. (I like to see other bots fighting for our reader ass smh. Its like watching a cat fight/j..)

He sometimes argues with Drift about being too fast or too gentle, but they always circle back to the same thing:

“We love them. We’re the only ones who do.”

You are now the squishy center of one very obsessed, very in-sync, very delusional mech-marriage. (Time to sign the marriage papers or sparkbond or smth.. idk)

(Look at this old ass love sickfools... they make me SICK/ affectionately)

Something about drift being delusional and ratchet being possessive and protective towards reader, scratches my brain right and flip my the switch very good.... oh my primus, they're so overbearing perhaps overwhelming— i migjt explode right here, right now!!!!!! /hj.... (I migjt send this more in your inbox if thats okay w yoi. In honesty i was nervous to send this at you 😭😭😭)

from this day fourth you shall be called "old man yaoi anon" /j

but AAAAAAAA jumping around shaking the bars of my enclosure /pos

save me old man yaoi save me,,,

doing kinky medical shit with ratchet as Drift praises us as he jorks it woah what was that must've been the wind /j

BUT this is so cute,,, both of them being delusional ass old men who just wants to keep their precious lil human safe <33

Imagine if Ratchet finds a way to you pregnant w/ him and Drifts sparkling,,,, oooohhh,, oughhhh,,,,

also PLEASE send more stuff in my inbox if you want!! i LOVE YAPPING!!!!!! /gen /nf

[hettyoon]

❥︎ Character; Rafayel Game; Love and deepspace

❥︎ Genre; fluff !! || established relationship || 2nd pov

❥︎ Warnings; rafayel may be ooc here I'm honestly too tired to tell lmao

❥︎ Notes; this has been in my drafts for god knows how long, and of course I had the great idea to polish this up right when I have an exam I haven't studied for in a couple hours (watch me regret this later). Also is it clear that I did not know how to end this 🧍‍♀️

❥︎ 𝐑𝐀𝐅𝐀𝐘𝐄𝐋;

You were currently at Rafayel's house, chilling down on the sofa in his living room while scrolling through your phone. As for him, he sat down cross-legged in front of his canvas, trying to find inspiration for his next art piece. A number of painting tools and colours were scattered around on the carpet floor in a messily order. He had been staring at the plain drawing board for a solid ten minutes now, one of his hands placed on his chin in deep thought.

With nothing interesting happening on your phone, you decided to set the device down to admire the focused look on your lover's face. His cheeks slightly puffed out, and his eyebrows furrowed as he struggled to find an answer to whatever artistic dilemma he was facing.

Honestly, he appeared so cute with that expression that you just felt the sudden urge to wrap your arms around him and give his cheeks a good pinch between your fingers. He somehow had this great ability to awaken some kind of cuteness aggression in you thay you couldn't subdue, and right now unfortunately for him, you were already in the process of finding out how to act on these intrusive thoughts that were circling around in your head.

It's not like you had anything stopping you. In fact, you were pretty sure he was so deep in thought right now that he probably wouldn't even notice you creeping up on him all of a sudden. Especially since he didn't even comment on you just blatantly staring at him for the past couple minutes. You were one hundred percent certain he would've done so if he had noticed, probably teasing you about how oh so good looking he is that you can't even avert your eyes away from his face in his presence, or something along those lines.

And so with that, your new thought out plan was now in action. Placing your hands flat against the sofa's handlss on your side, you lowered down your feet to the fluffy carpet, standing up and making sure you had nothing on you that would make any noise while you walked towards him.

Step by step, you made your way to where the lemurian man was sitting. He wasn't that far away from you to begin with so it wasn't long before you were looming right above his figure. Right before he could notice the sudden shadow that had fell upon him, you swiftly maneuvered your way to quickly plop down onto his lap, your hands shooting up to grab a good hold of his cheeks, pinching the soft skin between your fingers.

There was a brief moment of silence between you two as the Rafayel's brain tried to comprehend what had just happened over the past few seconds. His eyebrows were slightly lifted in surprise, and pride filled your chest, knowing you had successfully caught him off guard. Your eyes were locked with his, and you could see a soft hue of pink dusting the apples of his cheeks. It made his expression somehow even cuter than before, if that was even possible.

No need for him to know that though, his ego is already too big as it is.

Bringing your attention back to the situation at hand, a grin spread across your face as you gave his cheeks that you still held hostage between your fingers, a light pinch. That seemed to do the trick to snap him out of his trance, the light blush on his face slowly fading away as he reached up and, to your surprise, did not pull your hands away from his face, but instead counter-attack by grabbing hold of your cheeks instead.

"Hey!" You narrowed your eyes pointedly at him. This was not how this was supposed to go.

"What?" His eyebrow raised up in a questioning manner. "It's okay if you come and attack my harmless self for no reason but I can't even defend myself by attacking back?"

A light chuckle escaped your lips following his words, which were obviously not serious in the slightest, but your chuckle made his pout deepen even more. "Okay, okay, you drama queen. Also, this isn't me attacking you, this is just a new way of showing my love."

"Is it now?" He shot a questioning look at you, not quite believing your words. Which, you're not gonna lie, he has every right to after the bunch of small harmless pranks you pulled on him the past couple weeks. But hey, he kept teasing you back as well so it's not like he's completely innocent.

"Of course. See," You released your hold on his cheeks flattening your hand to gently cup his face instead. Leaning forward, you gave a quick kiss to his right cheek before turning the other way and doing the same action to his left. Lastly, you placed your third kiss right on the tip of his nose to seal the deal. "you're getting free kisses out of this."

He huffed back as a reply, but you could clearly see his cheeks taking colour in that reddish tint again at your actions. "How cruel of you taking advantage of me like that. I guess I have no choice but to accept it if this is the only way I'm gonna get affection from you."

"Oh, stop it." A giggle left your mouth as you gave a light tap to his nose. "You act like you don't snuggle up to me to sleep every single night."

His blush darkened even more at your words, although you could see in his expression his attempts to try and fight it back down. "You're the one who said you wanted to hold me!" He huffed.

"Yes, because you looked like you wanted to be held."

"Nonsense." Was his response, but you knew he'd still be cuddling up to you as usual once night falls. Not like you minded at all. You were both well aware that those moments of silently holding each other underneath the sheets was your favourite part of your daily routine, and you honestly wouldn't have it any other way.

Hetty

[puppysuh]

POSITIONS 4 U .ᐟ ( nct 127 )

synopsis. different positions 127 guys would love to see you in. (featuring. johnny, yuta, jaehyun, mark, haechan)

rating. mature (minors + ageless blogs dni)

warnings. multiple positions, dirty talk (all), semi-choking (johnny), mentions of anal (haechan), religious imagery(?) (mark), oral sex, overstimulation (jaehyun), dubcon, rough sex (yuta)

author’s note. my first proper… thing (?) on tumblr. sorry if the formatting’s a little off, i’ve only ever been on freaky anime tumblr and they layouts are… very different. enjoy, and my ask box is always open if anyone wants to talk! also, thanks for the love on my first post 😓😓 that was my first time posting and i was #MegaNervous so i’m glad it was well liked! :)

ﾞ ʾ ╳ ˚ ˖ ࣪ JOHNNY ☆ #PRONEBONE

it just makes him feel so… powerful. he likes giving, so what better way to give to you than let you lay there on your tummy, completely helpless whilst he cages you in between his massive arms, keeping you trapped whilst he has his fun with your oh so needy pussy? 

“i know you like it, sweet girl,” he’d whisper in your ear, hips pistoning in and out of you at pace which can be described as nothing short of ruthless. “you like it when i rail you like this, princess?”

you can barely respond, not with the way his bicep is wrapped around your neck, cutting off your airflow and rendering you utterly helpless to him. “‘s good,” you gurgle, eyes flickering into the back of your head as you feel that all too familiar coil start to wind in your belly.

another thing johnny likes about this position is that he can feel all of you, including the way your gummy walls begin to spasm around his cock as you rapidly approach your orgasm. and because he’s the one in control, he won’t give it to you just yet, instead deciding to slow his harsh thrusts down into sensual grinds against the flesh of your ass. 

“not yet,” he whispers in your ear before leaving a fleeting kiss on the crown of your head. “‘m not done with this pussy just yet, princess.” 

ﾞ ʾ ╳ ˚ ˖ ࣪ YUTA ☆ #MATINGPRESS

yuta doesn’t have the highest sex drive. well, you don’t think he does; he rarely initiates, and whilst you don’t mind that, you just wished he’d be a little less reserved.

he has his moments, sure. a kiss that lingers a little too long, a hand creeping up your back whilst you’re pottering about in the kitchen, the sharp feeling of his chin on your shoulder and a warm kiss on your neck. it’s loving, but it’s not sexual, and you feel stuck. 

stuck, that is, until you change your approach. 

all yuta needed was a little push, a little bit of motivation to finally let his true feelings show. all you had to do was act like he didn’t exist, and suddenly, he’s all over you, trapping you so you can’t escape his undivided attention. 

“ignoring me was a bad idea.” his voice is level, but is actions are anything but. he has your ankles propped up onto his shoulders, arms braced on either side of your head as he ruthlessly thrusts into you. “is this what you wanted?”

you smile weakly, but as quickly as it appears, it’s immediately wiped off your face by yuta bending you even further. “‘m sorry, yuta-” 

“you’re not,” he grunts, eyes glued to the way your pussy swallows his agitated length. “you’re enjoying this.” 

you can’t reply to him, because the burn in your pelvis is damn near excruciating, and you can only whine out in jumbled pain and pleasure, your eyes crossing as you feel your brain begin to go fuzzy.

“yuta…” 

“don’t do it again.” you feel a small relief as he takes one ankle off of his shoulder and kisses it, a harsh juxtaposition to the way he relentlessly drills your pussy. “got it?” 

you sniff pathetically. “got it.”

ﾞ ʾ ╳ ˚ ˖ ࣪ JAEHYUN ☆ #69

jaehyun is the best eater he knows. his source? well, you of course. 

the man has nothing short of an oral fixation. you remember him telling you that he had a penchant for all things sweet, and whilst you thought he meant desserts, he was really talking about his sexual preferences. 

a good day for jaehyun is a day spent in between your legs, fingers and tongue glued to your pussy as they pull orgasm after orgasm out of you. it’s the epitome of everything he loves and believes in, and when you suggest a new way to rouse his oral fixation through a video you find on twitter one day, he’s totally down. 

he might not be able to breathe, but he likes it that way. the fact that you’re sucking him off at the same time makes it even better; every time his tip touches the back of your throat, he can feel you tighten up around his tongue, and it drives him crazy. 

“sit on me,” jaehyun groans, fingers digging into the meat of your thighs as if they were his lifeline. “c’mon baby, do it.” 

jaehyun truly believes he could die right here, with your thighs cutting off his airflow whilst your tongue teases his cock, brain too muddled to focus on getting him off. it’s cute, honestly. 

it’s even cuter when he relentlessly forces your orgasm onto you, pulling your hips down harshly and sucking on your clit like a lollipop. you gag on his cock when you feel the orgasm crash onto you like a wave, and he’s painting your throat white, eyes flickering as your thighs squeeze his cheeks. 

jaehyun smiles to himself. he really is the best eater.

ﾞ ʾ ╳ ˚ ˖ ࣪ HAECHAN ☆ #DOGGYSTYLE

haechan is an ass man. it’s an indisputable fact; he’d rather you wear a pair of jeans or sports leggings than a skirt any day of the week. it’s not a style preference but more of an ass preference, because in sports leggings and jeans, he can walk behind you and abuse the blessing of sight all he god-damn wants. 

his alarming love of the plump flesh of your cheeks is what leads him to taking you from behind, on all fours, hands clasped around your hips as he pistons in and out of your cunt like a man on a mission. 

“fuck,” he groans, head tipping back and chocolate brown hair falling into his face as his hands slide down and grip the meat of your ass with a force rivaled by none. “fucking hell, baby. this ass is driving me crazy.” 

“why don’t you- hah- why don’t you fuck it then?” with what little strength you have, you turn your head to face him, drool pooling in your mouth as you take in the sight of your spent boyfriend, thrusting in and out of your heat like a man possessed. “‘s yours for the taking.” 

“ah- for real?” his mouth hangs open as he spreads your cheeks apart, eyes locking on the clenched ring of muscle winking back at him. “but we’ve never-” 

“i don’t care,” you whisper, groaning when one of his hands travels in between your legs to tease your clit. “don’t care when it’s you.”

ﾞ ʾ ╳ ˚ ˖ ࣪ MARK ☆ #COWGIRL

much like his best friend, mark just loves looking at you. unlike haechan, however, he tries his best not to look at you sexually; no, he looks at you purely because you’re beautiful. to him, it’s like your face was sculpted by the gods themselves, and he feels borderline blessed to have a girlfriend as pretty as you. 

so, when you suggest getting on top, mark can’t think of anything more perfect. 

sex is messy. it’s loud and vulgar, but when you’re riding him, mark thinks sex is the most angelic thing to have ever been created. you look almost ethereal as you grind your hips down onto his cock, hair in your face and a perky tits bouncing as you press your hands down onto his chest. 

“enjoying the view?” your chest heaves, breathless as you smile at your boyfriend, who seems to be cemented in a state of complete awe and bliss. 

“y-yeah,” he gasps, trembling hands resting on your thighs. “you look so pretty up there.” 

“thank you.” you smile down at him, and he swears he can feel the sun’s rays kiss his sweat cast skin. “you look so hot down there.” 

“m’not doin’ anything though.” 

“you don’t have to.” you grind your hips particularly harshly, and mark is as good as gone. “just sit there and let me make you feel good.” 

and he will. he’ll sit there as long as you damn well please, as long as you’re happy, and as long as he can keep watching your beautiful body use the living hell out of him.

© PUPPYSUH 2025 — do not copy, repost or translate my works without permission.

[jezabelle9299]

First Time(s)

Overture-- Light angst, light smut. These two virgin losers are in LOVE and I've been meaning to post this for like months. Also also it's a while into their relationship but there's no excessive meaning put on sex in particular, it's more of an insecurity thing.

A/N-This part is like 2k words already so I'll do a second part for this around tomorrow I think? Also this is my first time writing anything sexual, and my first time writing anything in like 4 months so lmk if you have any critique, but go a little easy on me. And again please let me know if you have any ideas or requests because I'm trying to get back into writing more consistently.

CWs-- SEXUAL CONTENT-- No penetration but almost everything leading up to it (it just got so so long I'll do the next part soon I swear). No mention of birth control or condoms (that comes later). Loss of virginity but no mention of hymens because I hate that imagery.

It was a beautiful date. Spencer was such a gentleman, you both had a great time, and now on top of it all he was driving you home. One hand on the steering wheel and one hand on your thigh, but you couldn’t help the nagging feeling in your brain at the end of every date since the first. The what would happen next decision. The way he looked at you like you were the world.

“Hey, can we talk when we get back to my apartment?” you rushed out, and his eyes narrowed as his brow furrowed in confusion. Then his hand immediately tensed on your thigh. and you knew what he was thinking. He thought this was a breakup conversation, when it was quite the opposite. You and Spencer had done some things, but they were pretty PG. You hadn’t gone out with anyone before Spencer, let alone done anything. The guys you liked were shy, and since you were too, you were out of luck on the dating front. Until Spencer, who was absolutely perfect, and absolutely freaking out. 

“Nothing’s wrong, I promise you’ve been perfect.”  He relaxes a little, but you could see the confusion still etched on his face even though his eyes were on the road. 

Luckily you brought this up when you were close so he didn’t have to sit in anticipation long. When he pulled into the same spot he always parked in, he immediately jumped up to open the door for you. Obviously, he’s opened every door for you since you started dating almost 2 months ago. You made an attempt to reassure him by holding his hand on the walk up to your apartment, but he was still worrying. After locking the door behind you, you lead him to the couch, before sitting next to him and turning to face him. 

“So-uh what did you want to talk about?”  Well now you can’t hide the embarrassment on your face at having this conversation. You may have initiated it, but actually doing it is way harder than expected. I mean you’d never done this. And you may not have any experience but you’re sure he has. I mean he’s an FBI agent, he’s so smart, and sweet, and handsome, he must have done this before. He’s been panicking about this conversation for like 10 minutes now so you have to tell him, there’s no going back now. 

“So-um- I really like you, and we’ve been dating for a– for a bit, so maybe the–um sexual stuff will come up soon. So I thought that I should probably tell you, that I haven’t–really…uh” And while you were floundering by the mercy of god he interjected, and for the first time since you asked him to talk recognition filled his eyes. He realized what you meant, or at least thought he did.

“Oh. Oh. You’re a virgin?” While relief painted your features at him guessing half of it, you still had a bit to get through, so you bit the inside of your cheek and looked down to gather your courage. 

“Well, yes, but also I’ve never done… any of it.” He’s confused again. Full head tilt, furrowed brow, confused. You had to continue. 

“I’ve never gone out with anyone else, I guess no one’s really ever liked me like that, and um before our first date I had never– kissed anyone else.” 

“Oh.”  realization dawned on him and you were ready for him to run for the hills. He didn’t though. He was as nervous as you, but he just leaned forward, elbows on his knees, so he could look you in the eye.

 “Did I do anything that made you uncomfortable?” Oh no. No. You needed to correct him. Fast.

“No! No, everything’s perfect. I just thought that I should tell you. I mean I get if it makes you uncomfortable, especially since I’m sure you’ve had experience and I really like you, but I know there’s pressure from that, and I didn’t want to put that on you. And I also don’t know how–uh, how good that would be.” He moved closer and a wave of relief washed over you when he grabbed your hand. 

“Hey, I don’t you know, have experience that is. I mean I’ve done some things but not–not all of them. That’s why I hadn’t really brought it up, I was a little nervous because–” his cheeks were probably as red as yours by now, and he couldn’t look you in the eyes for more than half a second at a time. 

“Because I really like you too and you're really, really hot.”

“The entire time we’ve been dating I don’t think you’ve ever described me as hot before.” That was exactly what both of you needed to undercut the tension of the moment, dissolving into small fits of laughter that sent you leaning into each other. 

When you sat back up you moved the hair that had fallen in your face behind your shoulder and looked at where your hands were joined. You couldn’t look him in the eyes for this part. 

“Would you like to try?” He looked shocked, as if you hadn’t just been talking about it. But he gave a rushed nod, and you leaned over to kiss him. His perfect lips. His hands ran across your body, before landing firmly on your waist. He hesitantly pulled you onto his lap and you squealed, surprised by the graceful show of strength from him. He started to kiss down your jaw, and you giggled as he moved down your neck. Partly because you were just so happy, and also because his hair was tickling your shoulder.

He loved the sound of your laugh. It was his favorite sound, he couldn’t help but smile into your neck as he kissed you– god he could stay like this forever. The close second to your laugh was the sound that came after. He sucked on your neck, right on the pulse point and you moaned. He needed you, more than anything or anyone ever had. The couch however, wasn’t exactly the most romantic place. This was your first time too, and he had to make sure you were ok to keep going.

“Do you want to–” He let out a shaky exhale, almost like a laugh, and not quite a moan. “Bedroom?” He finally spoke into your neck, before pulling away to look at you, with those big brown puppy dog eyes, hair all tousled from you running your hands through it. You couldn’t say yes fast enough. 

You held onto his broad shoulders to move off his lap before running your hands down his arms until your hands joined again. You pulled him off the couch and down the hall before arriving at your room. 

As soon as you were in there you were back on each other, clumsily unbuttoning his shirt while trying not to break the kiss, until he pulled back. His hands found the hem of your shirt, and paused, waiting for you to indicate it was ok to remove. When you nodded, he smiled. That nervous, perfect, smile you saw for the first time when he asked you out for your first date, and you said yes. 

When you’d both managed to pull your shirts off, he laid you down on the bed. He knelt beside you, arms on either side of your body as he kissed down your torso, muttering compliments into your skin all the time. “Is this ok?” he asked when he got to your waistband. You nodded, immediately replying with a breathy “Yes, Spencer, please.” 

He was still flushed, and he nodded, his eyes looking up at you and they were practically glazed over. He looked perfect like this. When he slid his hands down, he removed your underwear with your pants. Then he moaned. You hadn’t even really gotten to touch him yet and he was the one moaning.

“You’re so perfect.” He placed an open mouthed kiss to your hip bone. “There’s something I–really want to try, can I? It might not be very good, but I really–please?” You had a guess as to what he was wanting and you were nervous. You were sure he’d take care of you though, and you could never say no to him. You never even wanted to try. 

“Anything Spence, just please touch me?” His eyes lit up, he still couldn’t believe this was happening. You, amazing, beautiful, you, wanted this. Wanted him. He kissed up your inner thighs, savoring every second, until he got where you really needed him. 

He was…ambitious, and surprisingly good. Especially since he was as new to this as you were. When he brought you to your breaking point, sucking on your clit after what felt like hours of sweet torture, but was realistically only minutes. he held your thighs apart as they shook, his touch equal parts reassuring as it was firm. With your head lolled back and eyes closed you didn’t see him as he started to stick one of his fingers inside you. The sensation caught you off guard, and all you could think was Spencer, Yes, and Please? 

The sound that snapped you back to reality was his voice, as he moaned more praise into you. “Oh my god you’re so perfect, feels so good.” Your eyes snapped back down to him. He was enjoying this as much as you were, he was grinding down on the bed. His eyes met yours as he curled his finger inside you, hitting a spot you couldn’t reach if you tried, and you had tried. The sensation wasn’t what pushed you over the edge for the second time, it was the image of him. 

His eyes were all pupils, his hair a mess, and squirming against the bed just from touching you. But he didn’t stop after you came back down, not until he cleaned you up. When you started wincing away from overstimulation, he moved back up your stomach, leaving open mouth kisses all the way. 

“Do you want to keep going? I know you just–, if you want to be done we can be.” 

You were not ready to be done. You pulled his lips back to yours, then let your hands move down his chest to unbutton and unzip his pants. When he pulled away to catch his breath, you decided to tell him you wanted him one more time for safety. 

“Please, Spencer, I just need you ok?” His eyes were already wide as saucers, but they somehow got even bigger. In one motion he was as bare and vulnerable as you were. You looked down, and he was–big. You were as ready as ever, especially after the last few minutes, but this was still not going to be without difficulty. But you wanted to try, you wanted this. When he looked into your eyes though he didn’t see the overwhelming love and desire you had for him though, he saw the flash of hesitancy. In his worst nightmare he thought he saw fear. 

“What’s wrong, did I do something? We can stop anytime, I promise. What can I do?” You knew it would crush him if he thought for one minute you didn’t want this, want him, but were continuing anyway. You were quick to correct him. 

“No! No– it’s just that you’re bigger than I had expected and I wanted this to be perfect and I’m worried I’ll ruin it.” His eyes went from panicked to full of empathy. 

“You are perfect. You could never be anything less than wonderful, we can try, if you want and if it gets to be too much just let me know and I’ll stop that very second. Does that sound alright?” He was perfect.

“That sounds good” You breathed a sigh of relief, but Spencer still had a flash of hesitance on his face. When you asked him if he still wanted to, he nodded immediately, but he needed to gather his courage for this.

“Could you just. If you hate it, could you promise you’ll tell me? I don’t want you to do anything you don’t want to.” He knew that right now you wanted it as much as he did, but he also knew you’d do things you hate for the sake of another person’s feelings. His greatest fear was you doing something to spare his feelings, laying yourself down on the altar, suffering for his benefit. 

“I don’t think I could ever not love it when it’s with you. I have very good taste.” With that you pulled him down to you by the shoulders, kissing him and starting again in earnest.