#but oh i am so pore

[daftpatience]

computer. straight leg pants that are actually straight leg on fat people. affordable but not from garbage plastic stores like horrid

[mirkwood-trash]

LMAOOOOO NIGHTTIME DAN IS FEMALE WHAT A PLOT TWIST

[dordey]

mmmm (: rly need to stop watching ig reels

[endless-ineffabilities]

the only place (Ewan Mitchell x f!reader)

a/n: a purely self-indulgent little blurb inspired by the latest crumbs of our Iceberg! <3

main masterlist ▪︎ next part

Ewan attends the press night of The Other Place. As the audience is filing in, and the theatre is abuzz with excitement, he sees you.

Ewan could not stop looking at you.

It was almost silly, the way his head kept whipping back in your direction, as you stood a little distance away, talking to Bethany.

Harry and his friend were telling Ewan of their recent trip to Ibiza, and he didn't want to be rude, but their words were becoming muffled due to him straining to hear the sound of your voice. You gestured enthusiastically to Bethany as you regaled her with a story, and that smile – damn, that smile.

"So we ended up staying until 8 that morning, can you believe that?" Harry exclaimed, pausing to allow Ewan to react.

When he received no response, Harry trailed Ewan's gaze right to you.

"You smitten, mate?" Harry grinned. "Go say hi to her!"

"Wh-what?" Ewan stammered. Smooth. It wasn't an easy drop from high up in the clouds where his mind drifted. You drew him there, and he remained suspended in your allure.

"That's Beth's friend. She's really lovely, you know. You should introduce yourself," Harry said. When he sensed Ewan's hesitation, he pressed on, "Come on, you clearly want to."

Bethany was pulled aside by another friend, so Ewan took that as his cue, his legs moving as if on autopilot. A moth drawn to your flame.

He reached you, and your eyes widened slightly at his sudden appearance.

He had always thought himself a poet at heart, spending countless hours poring over complex books, but all he could muster in that instance was, "Hello."

But it apparently was enough, because you smiled brightly at him. You practically glowed in his eyes.

"Hi," you replied warmly. "Oh, I know who you are. I love Aemond Targaryen."

"Oh?" His heart jumped, pitter pattering in his ears. "Well, I'm flattered. Thank you."

"Yeah, I think you're a brilliant actor." You expressed genuinely, before offering your hand out and introducing yourself.

"That's a beautiful name," he remarked.

"Thanks," you mumbled shyly, looking down briefly. Was he getting to you? Was he having the same effect on you as you have on him? Impossible.

"You're friends with Bethany?" he asks.

"I am, for quite some time now. Ever since I moved to this city."

"Hmm." He smiled, his confidence gaining a much needed boost. He asked you a couple more questions, eager to hear every one of your responses. The attraction only deepened the more he found out about you.

At some point, he asked, "How are you finding the city? Has Bethany shown you around?"

"Well, the city's been amazing. You really can never run out of stuff to do, and Beth's been great at taking me to the best spots out there, you know?"

"Yeah, that's good. There's this... uhhh... indie cinema that I go to all the time. It's quite lowkey, very niche. Do you like watching movies?"

You beamed, shrugging as if to say obviously. "Movies are my bread and butter, Ewan."

"Mine too," he noted, before hitting home. It was now or never. "We should visit that cinema together sometime."

A beat passed. His throat tightened slightly in anticipation. He must have done something wrong. He forgot to say please. He forgot to add, if you want.

Was he coming on too strong?

"Are you asking me out?" You tilted your head at him, eyes narrowing. He took a mental picture, saving it for your grandkids.

Yours and his. He cringed inwardly. He severely needed to get a grip.

"Yes... I am."

"Well, then... I would love to."

He thanked his lucky stars. He thanked Emma in his mind for starring in that play and inviting him tonight.

That play – truly the best and most excellent that there ever was and ever will be. And it had not even started yet.

To Ewan, no other play will ever compare until the end of time.

Because it led him to you.

[poetsblvd]

SKINCARE BABE ꪆৎ CL16

“How do you not get confused at all?” Charles mumbles in awe of your skincare collection, staring at the jars and tubes of different sizes that sit prettily in organised containers on the large vanity of your bathroom.

You shrug, pulling him lightly by his knuckles towards a seat facing your bathroom mirror. “You get used to it, now sit!”

He smiles softly taking a seat on the cushioned stool next to yours, nodding as you pull out an array of different types of face masks to try with him.

“I have so many fun ones we can do! There’s this clay mask, this gel one, that’s a sheet mask, and then this one peels off.” A delicately manicured finger pulls out the containers and thin boxes from cabinets and lays them down in front of him.

He doesn’t quite know what you’re saying at all, the words mostly fly over his head and he doesn’t understand much of what you’re saying, except that maybe the world has far too many face masks to choose from, but he knows he can listen to you prattle on for hours on end about sheet masks, gel under eye patches, everything really, and never tire.

You hum in concentration, still looking through drawers for anything you may be missing to show him, completely unaware of your boyfriends’ attention being solely on you rather than your skincare.

“You’re so beautiful, you know?” He murmurs smiling up at you.

Your hands pause in their movements, a pretty flush creeping up your cheeks and down your neck, only endearing you more to him.

His hands come to rub at his chest unconsciously still staring at you in awe, a soft gooey feeling coating him turning his eyes into hearts and making his brain go almost numb.

‘’Tellement jolie.” He smiles, large hands carefully sliding around your waist and pulling you closer to stand in front of him, chin resting on the pretty pink silk robe that coats your body. ( so pretty )

“Mon belle amour, comment ai-je eu autant de chance?” He wonders, laughing softly when your hands bashfully come up to cover your face, french glossy nails shining in the light. ( my beautiful love, how did i get so lucky? )

“Charlie!” You whine, dragging out his name in exasperation mumbling a shy I love you, that’s incredibly well received if his ear splitting grin and giggle are anything to go by.

He tugs you onto his lap, making sure you’re comfortable, hands still woven tightly around your waist, his head in the crook of your neck, he smears a soft kiss on your shoulders and nudges you to the face masks again.

“Tell me what face mask you like the most mon beau.” You pull out a small glass pot labeled ‘volcanic clay mask’ and he fights all his inner questions down when you start rattling off its benefits of how it minimises pores and helps target fine lines?

“Okay amour, will you put it on for me?” He smiles cheesily, pushing his face forward and turning you around in his hold.

“We have to push your hair back first love.” You pull out a brand new headband from the drawer next to you and present it to him, grinning at his loud bark of laughter at the lightning mcqueen skincare headband in front of of him.

“Oh my God!”

“You like it?” You question, happiness bubbling inside you.

Nodding eagerly he lets you slip it onto his head and push back his hair “Love it! Love you, so much, Je t’aime mon coeur.”

“Je t’aime aussi Cha.”

“Wow, I am going to be the coolest in the paddock, Lightning mcqueen headband? Max is going to be so jealous.”

love note , hi i hope you guys liked this!! i’m not the most pleased with this but i had the teeniest crumb of inspo to write and it’s 4:20 am (again) so please bear with me!! but i found the idea cute and i was struggling to put it into words, but it is what it is! also i have a bunch of reqs in my inbox that i promos i’ll get to, but i’m recovering from the most disgusting flu and have the most awful writers block, so we’ll go slow and steady!! anyways happy reading mwah xx

[marvelfanfn2187a113]

My Angel

Sam and Dean & teen!reader, Castiel & teen!reader

Requested by Anonymous

Synopsis: you’re a daughter figure to team free will, and you have time/location travel powers. One time you accidentally time travel back too far, and you have to face TFW before they met you.

Warnings: panic attack, then pretty much fluff

“Hey Sam?” You knocked on Sam’s door softly—no answer. You slowly pressed the door open, peaking in and seeing Sam fast asleep on his bed. You took a step back, pulling the door closed as silently as possible; you’d wanted his help to study for your test, but he hadn’t been sleeping much lately while he dealt with all the hunters now living in the bunker, so you wanted to let him sleep.

Next stop was Dean—but he was out on a hunt with Mary. Finally, you wandered around looking for Cas. You found him in the library poring over lore.

“Cas?” You approached him hesitantly, a notebook hugged to your chest. “Do you think you could—“

“Not now, Y/N,” Cas huffed, rubbing a hand over his face. “I need to finish this.”

“Oh.” You bit your lip. “Do you think maybe later you could—“

“Not now!” He snapped. “I’m a little busy trying to keep your brother from dying!”

You snapped your mouth shut, turning on your heel and leaving without another word.

“No, wait…” Cas’s regret came a split second too late. “I’m sorry!”

…

You clicked the lock shut on your room door, tossing your notebook on your desk before dropping down on your bed.

“Calm down calm down calm down,” you whispered to yourself over and over, rubbing your face and a few stray tears. The pile of homework on your desk already had you panicked, and you hadn’t been prepared for Cas to yell at you like that. Not only that, but on top of the homework you had a huge test, and you knew you weren’t ready.

Your handle on your emotions had been slipping lately due to all the stress, and with that came a lack of control on your powers. That had led to a lot more “incidents” lately—usually you’d just get transported to a few minutes in the past, or a mile or two away, but you were always scared that if your emotions got big enough, there would be bigger jumps.

“Stop it,” you willed your pounding heart to no avail. Your breath was coming in quicker and quicker gasps, and it was all you could do to sit up and try to keep the room from spinning. “It’s ok, you’re fine you’re fine you’re fine…”

You closed your eyes tightly as the panic took over and your head started to pound—a sure sign that you were traveling.

“No no no,” you whimpered. “Not now, just stop, just stop!”

The pain grew and your breath still hadn’t returned. You opened your eyes, but everything was still spinning, and black spots were flying around the edges of your vision. You tried to stand, but something sharp smacked against your head. The darkness spread, faster and faster and—

And nothing.

…

“What the heck?”

A man’s voice was the first thing you heard as you tried to force your eyes open through the pain that pounded behind them.

“Sam! Dean! Get in here!”

You groaned, blinking your blurry vision away. Dark wood lined the floor, and as you forced yourself to sit up, a room came into focus—an old couch slumped in the corner, an oak desk sat right next to you. An old man was crouched in front of you, a gun in his hand—

“Bobby?” You breathed. You’d seen the man in pictures before, but you’d never met him.

The gun twitched.

“How do you know who I am?” Bobby demanded.

“What’s going on?” Dean’s voice caught your attention—he rushed through the doorway, followed by Sam, and both froze at the sight of you. “Who the heck is that?”

The boys were younger than you’d ever seen them, by a few years at least, and you knew from what they’d told you about Bobby’s death that you must have gone back at least six or seven years—long before you’d met the boys.

“That’s what I’d like to know,” Bobby insisted, cocking the gun in his hand. “And I’d better find out in the next five seconds.”

“Ok ok wait!” You insisted, holding up your hands. Your head was pounding—you’d probably hit it on the desk when you traveled, and you could swear that you felt blood running down the side of your face. “I’m…I’m from the future.”

Three blank stares.

“Right,” Bobby scoffed. “And I’m Bill Clinton.”

“It’s true!” You insisted. “I-I have powers, but I jumped back too far.”

“Do you expect us to believe—“

“It’s true.” Dean’s protest was cut off with a flutter of wings and the deep voice of Castiel. “She’s telling the truth, she’s from the future. I can sense it.”

“So what, she can just jump around time and—“

“No,” Castiel insisted. “No, no one should have that power.��� His eyes flashed blue. “I need to take care of this problem.” He took one step forwards, but Dean jumped over to block him.

“Whoa whoa, hey, easy,” Dean insisted. “She’s just a kid, what are you gonna do?”

“She shouldn’t exist,” Castiel argued. “She’s dangerous.”

“Cas?” You whimpered, backing away from him.

“How do you know me?” Cas demanded, stiffening.

“We…you…” you swallowed. “We met…or, I guess, we will meet…in a few years. You try to help me control my powers. All three of you do.”

“Three?” Bobby asked, but you kept your mouth shut.

“That doesn’t make sense,” Castiel continued. “I would’ve killed you—I should’ve—you’re dangerous.”

“And-and you’re a lot different here than you are in the future.” Your lip quivered as you spoke, still keeping as much distance from Cas as you could. He wasn’t the gentle, caring Cas that you knew—he truly looked like the dangerous angel you knew he could be.

“What are we gonna do with her?” Sam spoke up. “Shouldn’t she go back to her own time?”

“I still don’t think she should be in any time,” Cas argued, his hand twitching—probably for his angel blade.

“Please.” A tear dripped onto your hand, and you wrapped your arms around yourself—despite the familiar faces, you felt surrounded by strangers. “Please, I-I just want to go home. I didn’t mean to come here, I didn’t mean to—“ you noticed Castiel’s hand relaxing slightly, and you took a deep breath. “Cas, you…in the future, you’re like a father to me. And I just want to get back to my Cas, I just…please help me get home.”

Cas took another step forward, and Dean didn’t stop him. You flinched when Cas lifted his hand, but he just placed it gently on your shoulder.

“I…I think maybe I can get you home,” Cas said slowly. “But you need to be more careful. If you jump like this again, you could disrupt the flow of time.”

You nodded. “I understand.”

“Ok.” Cas’s eyes softened. “Then let’s get you home.” He pressed two fingers to your forehead. There was a faint pulse of blue before your world went dark.

…

“Y/N? Y/N!”

You jerked upright to the sound of a harsh knock at your door. You blinked hard, rubbing your eyes, then your face—the cut on your head was healed.

You got to unsteady feet before unlocking your door and swinging it open to see Cas, looking frazzled and worried.

“Cas!” Cas staggered back in surprise when you through yourself into his arms.

“Are you ok?” He demanded, holding you close.

“I missed this you.” Your voice came out muffled against Cas’s trench coat.

“I…you what?” Cas asked.

“Never mind.” You sniffled, pulling away. “I’m just glad to see you.”

“N/N, I’m sorry,” Cas insisted. “I-I didn’t mean to yell at you earlier, I just…I guess I was feeling stressed.”

“It’s ok,” you insisted.

“No it wasn’t,” Cas argued. “I’m here for you, for whatever you need.”

“I think maybe school needs to take a back burner,” you said slowly. “Can you help me…with my powers?”

“I did say whatever.” Cas smiled. “So let’s get started.”

Taglist:

@nyotamalfoy @mrvlxgrl @chocorade @aestheticdaisies @inlovewhithafairytale @that-wannabe-vangoghgurl @casmustdiee @987coley @deadlymistletoe @wayward-impala83 @whump-loverz @johannelis2302nely

[wordbunch]

oh, how unreasonable [Halbrand]

LONG A/N: I hope yall have lots of fun and feels while reading this, and I am living for any comments and impressions ♡ if it is slight ooc, I really don't care. If you don't consider Halbrand a warning in itself, then the only warning I have is occasionally suggestive conversation.

❗️this is essentialy Halbrand x my OC Díorien (she), who is a half-elf with the other half of her roots unknown, but there are no physical descriptions - feel free to consider it a reader insert. The only extra bit of knowledge is that she can use fire magic (hence multiple fire references), she is more-less one of the elves but not fully, and is very much on the fence about who to side with. A girl is struggling

I wholeheartedly recommend these 2 songs for the mood ♡

“So it is true.” 

“What is?”

“That evil never sleeps?” Díorien’s face appeared in warm candlelight amid the dark room. Her eyes scanned the figure in front of her with equal parts disdain and intrigue.

“Ever so witty, my queen,” Halbrand cackled, positioned in front of the door of Díorien’s private chambers. “How could I sleep, knowing you are here, and not by my side in a realm of our own creation?”

Cautiously he began to approach her bed, thick darkness everywhere except for the cool glow of the moon through the large window above her headboard, and the candle in her hand she had lit seconds ago. Fitting. 

“What brings you here?” she inquired dryly, pretending with all her might that his presence in the dead of night wasn’t making her shiver from head to toe. Having just awoken abruptly, she needed a few moments to wrap her head around the situation and realize she was dressed only in a delicate, sheer nightgown with sheets bunched up around her waist and legs. Swallowing thickly, Díorien decided to just pretend she was dressed properly - however, she was convinced Halbrand could see right through her anyway. Somehow he was always able to. 

“What brings me here is…” he began, voice heavy with something inexplicable, “the fact that the most enchanting, strong, passionate woman in the world, does not want to partake in that world with me.”

“But how could I, Halbrand?” She defended herself, not fully convinced she stood behind her own words. The way his eyes pored over her vulnerable form in the candlelight pulled the very ground from beneath her feet. “Y-you want me to-”

“I want you to rule with me, I want you to be my other half, I want you to come with me somewhere you will be not cast aside, but worshipped.” All decorum aside, Halbrand sat on the edge of her bed, and he could see her swallow thickly. If he said that heat wasn’t overcoming his whole body in her presence, that would be a very transparent lie, since that usually was the effect that she had on him. And he knew that she knew about it very well. “They do not understand you. They do not drive you to grow greater, to aim for more - they do not see you the way that I see you, Díor.” He was sliding one hand slowly over the mattress towards Díorien’s hand which was tightly clutching the silky sheets. “I know how that feels, my starlight, because that is how they are to me as well. But not you. Not you. You know my mind like you have walked the very steps inside of it. And I - I see the greatness that burns within you, the flame that terrifies everyone else, except someone who has walked through fire before.” His voice was quiet and gruff, but with an edge of persistence.

“Halbrand-” she whispered, furrowed eyebrows reflecting her inner turmoil.

“When you say my name like that, I am willing to throw the rest of the world away and just live in you instead.” He interrupted her eagerly, but she cleared her throat, determined to continue.

but you’ve come to offer, i’m here to receive / your face is my gospel, your body my creed / bring me to your altar, drop me to my knees / the more i worship, the more i believe 

“You are asking me to betray my own kin-”

“And you would betray your own heart.”

His calloused hand found his way to her closed fist and wrapped around it. Had the windows not been open and graciously letting in a light breeze, Díorien would have combusted then and there. In spite of that, she allowed him to touch her. 

“Do I not make you feel better than any of them, my queen? Do I not make you feel euphoric, boundless? I find it hard to believe you have already forgotten how we relished in each other, away from any judgemental glare,” he pressed with a deceitful pout. His other hand found its way to her bare shoulder, his touch almost scathing in the crackling air.

“Even when I try to bury those memories, they come back all the stronger, and I tremble every time I feel the ghost of your lips on my body” she admitted earnestly, her eyes bearing a striking vulnerability. “I feel you even when I least wish to do so, but I do not believe you and your proposals and schemes.”

it’s not fair, oh, it’s not fair how much i love you / it’s not fair ‘cause you make me ache, you bastard

Halbrand sighed away a self-satisfied smile, composing himself before speaking up once again. “You would not be betraying any of them - I need you to establish a new order with me, I need you to save your beloved world with me. You would not be betraying anyone, quite the contrary, you would be their savior, and nobody would have any right to pass you any judgment.”

There were a few steady beats of silence, the only moving thing the meek, flickering flame of a single candle on the windowsill, and the light that it cast on all around it. 

“Do you speak of betrayal because you were conditioned to do so, or because you feel that way truly? You speak of your kin, but are they, really? What makes you anymore closely bound to any of them, than it does to me? Had you been so important to each other, you wouldn’t have been treated like some lesser-”

Díorien interrupted his barrage of questions before his voice could adopt an even more venomous tone than it just had.

“And what do you know of true feelings, of truth in any capacity?” She chuckled dryly, hoping to have finally caught him off guard. In that moment, the only perfectly true thing about her was the fact that she was holding onto her morality by a thread, weakening by the second. He knew too well exactly where to hit her, and how, and she was aware that she had entered a battle inevitably to be lost. 

“The way I feel with your hands on me is the only measure of truth I need. You are the very flame of my heart.” 

Whether her senses and sanity were failing, or was there something so genuine and frail in the way he delivered his confession, there was no way to tell. Their eyes met as an abundance of feelings grazed his facial expression. 

and if you asked me to, if you asked me, i would lose it all / like petals in a storm / ‘cause darling, i was born to press my head between your shoulder blades, at night when light is fading

The thread weakened to become next to nothing. Against her better judgment, Díorien reached out a warm hand to remove a stray curl that had fallen over Halbrand’s eyes. He himself was growing uncertain of what exactly he was holding onto. Perhaps it was just her existence, just her closeness, her overt ferocity and her inescapable radiance. He only knew he wanted more of it, all of it, until the end of all the ages of the world. 

“But if your plan for a newly established perfect harmony fails, what then, Halbrand?” Díorien’s tone was stiff yet hushed, but it was all false pretenses; those troubled eyes, unruly hair and towering height had broken through her guard one too many times already. She sat there, defeated, all but vibrating with things left unsaid, and the expectations of things yet to be heard. 

“We would still have one another,” he retorted with a pinch of desperation in his voice, and you would still have thousands… millions, under your merciful hand.” He touched her jawline, brushing over her lower lip with his thumb. “And me, merely a breath away from your lips.” Halbrand’s eyebrow twitched upwards ever so slightly; she would have missed it had she not been so familiar with almost all of his crevices and corners. “You would have tried saving the elves, saving Middle-earth, if that is necessary to still your conscience. But failure of my mission or not - in the end you still come out a winner. We do.” His hand found her trembling fingers, firmly bringing them to his lips, never ceasing to hold her gaze. 

“When you look at me like that,” she whispered, subconsciously leaning into his touch and toward his face, “I find myself failing to draw a single breath,” she finished shakily, mentally cursing herself for falling under his influence time and time again. Although she had aimed to hold her ground, she was walking a thin line between the right choice and the reckless one. But, oh, the reckless one had a smile which made her forget her own name, and the rasp in his voice drowned out even the sweetest elven melodies. She wasn’t walking a line - she was falling over it right into the strong arms of her ravishing, twisted enemy (or at least whom she was raised to believe was one). 

Halbrand offered her a devilish, partially relieved, grin as he pulled her onto his lap in one swift motion, twisted sheets and all; she drew in a sharp breath weaving both of her hands into his unruly hair. Forehead against forehead, they were now painfully aware of both of their strained breathing and the thrill that was palpable in the, until very recently still, air. Díorien eagerly renounced the last bits of her poise as soon as his face was buried in her tender neck, his beard deliciously scratching her skin. However, as soon as she let out a sweet breath of pleasure, Halbrand moved away to look into her face again.

“Is that a yes, my queen?” he whispered, looking up at her through his lashes, his hands firmly dug into her hips. 

“It is anything you want it to be, my king,” her answer was hurried, desperate, starving, merely a millisecond before she collided her lips with his. 

It didn’t take long before Halbrand maneuvered them so that he was hovering over the wide-eyed girl with fire inside her body and heart.  

“I think it is time I make you forget all those wretched little excuses you tried giving me, darling,” he murmured into her skin before hastily blowing out the candle.

oh, how, oh how unreasonable / how unreasonably in love i am with everything you do / i’ll spend my days so close to you / ‘cause if i’m stood here, then i’m stood here / and i’ll stand here / i’ll stand here with you.

♡♡♡

shoutout to my most beloved 💖💖💖 @queenmeriadoc @lady-of-imladris

and @entishramblings i know you're not a ROP girl, but perhaps the writing style will be right up your alley 🥰

[dekariosclan]

*kneels at your feet* Oh great Gale-guru, knower of all things wonderful and Dekarios, I beseech thee—

Would you happen to have any good cozy and/or comfort fics or drabbles that you’d recommend? I’ve been having a weird time with work & personal life lately, and would love nothing more than some sweet scenarios with our bestest boi

May my cold, “dead” hands soon be able to shake yours in gratitude. 🔮

No kneeling required here! Especially when you bring me an ask that is the equivalent of Karlach asking Gale for book recommendations 🥰☝️☝️☝️ The joy! The excitement! Only instead of it being Gale poring through all the books in his tower, it’s me poring through my blog to highlight all the wonderful fics and writers. Happy to oblige!

@senualothbrok - Has an outstanding collection of Gale fics which I highly recommend checking out! Writes Gale x FemaleTav/Reader perfectly. For cute comfort, I recommend Content and Nocturnal Postulations.

@ceremorph0sis Wrote this adorably sweet one-shot, post-epilogue, featuring married Gale x FemaleTav.

@ode-to-fury Crafted this Pure Gale Fluff with post-epilogue FemaleTav x Gale. There’s even a cameo from everyone’s favorite Tressym!

@rosieofcorona Beautifully wrote this very very soft and sweet fic, All We Do Not Say, with an early romance Gale x FemaleTav.

@sorceresssundries Has written many excellent pieces, including some of the best poetry this side of the Chionthar. Here she gifted us with a joyfully teary wizard cuddling by the firelight. Gale x MaleTav’s first night in Waterdeep, post-wedding.

A03 writer Tal_Art details loving reassurances between married Gale x MaleTav despite (or because of?) a kitchen catastrophe in Cooking Time. As an added bonus, Tara has some Opinions.

@bakuliwrites Serves us smooches & cuddles in this Gale x gn!Reader fic, featuring Gale in everyone’s favorite outfit (ok, MY favorite) the purple jammies 💜🥹

@littleenglishfangirl Provides a happily married Gale x gn!Reader/Tav fic. Treats us to a description of Gale’s grey streaks which is just *chef’s kiss* perfection.

———

As always I have to add the disclaimer that I am SURE that I missed other amazing writers because there are so many in this community so please, if anyone can think of others to add to this list I highly encourage you to do so!

[angel-of-the-moons]

Peaches and Cream

Pre-War!Cooper Howard x Curvy!Fem!Reader

TW/CW: Smut, NSFW, Oral (f! Receiving), reader's got some thick thighs and little bit of hair down there, overuse of pet names. (You can't tell me this man wouldn't call you a pet name at every available opportunity)

MINORS DNI I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR CONTENT YOU CONSUME

A/N: Remember that line in MK 11 where Kano goes "Aren't you a peach? I could eat a peach for hours."? I just got some body wash that smells exactly like those peach ring candies and this happened upon me like a bolt of Zeus hit me whilst in the shower today

Divider by @/saradika-graphics

Being on the rebound after the messy divorce with Barb wasn't on Cooper's priority lists. Dating one of the animal trainers from one of his movies sets was certainly never an avenue he thought he'd pursue.

But when his horse got loose on set and she ignored him in favor of you? Oh, you got his attention all right... One thing led to another, and boy did the tabloids have a field day when pictures of the two of you kissing made it into circulation.

You were used to tabloids and reporters, working on movie sets. And now, dating America's favorite heart-throb cowboy? Oh, you bet your ass if you weren't used to it before you sure were, now.

You had fallen into a comfortable routine, often staying over at his place. To say Barb was prickly about how quickly he seemed to move on was... nice. She did however like how good you were with Janey, so that eased her annoyance with you some. So, she got used to seeing you around when Cooper would pick Janey up or when she dropped her off.

Today was one of those days, Cooper had run out to see his agent about something when Barb showed up to take Janey back again. You said stiff goodbyes and gave Janey a big hug, and once they were off, hopped in for a quick shower.

Your skin was still damp and your hair was still wrapped up in a towel when he got back, looking tired and annoyed.

Cooper kicked his shoes off by the front door, Roosevelt letting our short barks of excitement as his owner patted his head, before scampering back off to lay in his bed and gnaw his beef bone in content.

You just finished pouring a glass of sweet tea when Cooper's calloused hands circled your waist from behind, briefly giving your soft belly a squeeze before his fingers bunched in your dress as he kissed your neck. "Missed ya." He murmured.

"You were gone maybe, twenty minutes." You giggled, reaching up to brush his cheek with your hand as you slipped your drink, the ice cubes clinking loudly on the glass.

"Long enough. Didn't even get to kiss my baby goodbye when she got strapped into her Mama's car." He snorted, pressing his nose against your skin, breathing in the scent of the soaps you'd used.

"Damn, you smell good. Like a fuckin' peach."

"Oh?" You smirked as his hands began to roam, reaching down the front of your dress to grip the fat of your thighs in his palms, kneading softly. You bit your lip when he hummed an affirmation, his teeth grazing your skin on your shoulder.

"Mhhm... Good 'nuff to fuckin' eat." He drawled, his tone as thick and sweet as molasses; the timbre of his voice crawling through your pores.

"If you're hungry I can make dinner." You reply breathlessly, trying to interject your sense of humor.

"Nah, darlin'." Cooper growled, yaking you by the dress so you were flush tight against him; able to feel the growing outline of his cock as it filled out the crotch of his pants, "Not the kinda snack I want."

His breath hot on your ear, goosebumps on your skin; you barely had enough time to set your glass of tea down on the counter before he began tugging you to his bedroom; the towel on your head being unraveled and forgotten in the hall along the way.

The moment his door was kicked shut he turned you around and his mouth found yours like a homing missile--all teeth and tongue; dancing, twining, tugging and messy--knocking the air from your lungs as his hands blindly unbuttoned the top of your dress, groaning when the soft expanse of your bare breasts greeted his hands.

"No bra, darlin'?" Cooper rasped, pulling back from your mouth to grin.

"'s more comfortable." You barely mutter out before his lips are on you again, kissing you backwards until your knees hit the edge of the bed, knocking you back while he stayed standing.

His eyes lit up with a mischievous twinkle as he gave you that signature smirk of his coupled with the quirk of his brow. "Oh, you won't catch me complainin' babydoll... Not at all."

You huff and reach down, undoing the clasp to his belt, hastily trying to slide it free of the loops of his pants, but his hand stops you and you pout up at him impatiently.

"Easy now, baby." He said in a low and heavy tone, his accent emphasizing "baby" and making a shiver creep down to your toes.

He lifted his other hand to tug the buttons on his shirt free, plucking each one until his button-up was open more, revealing the white undershirt beneath.

"Now..." He growled softly as he began to sink to his knees, "Told ya I wanted a snack, darlin'... Now I'm gonna get one. Just lay back and relax."

Your heart sputtered a beat as Cooper pulled your thighs apart and just tugged your panties to the side; not even bothering to remove them before giving your damp folds an open-mouthed kiss, running his tongue along the length of your slit and drawing a shaky moan from you.

His hand trailed softly over your skin, brushing over the short mess of curls before using his thumb to pull the hood of your clit back; giving the sensitive nub a nip before chuckling.

"You're awful jumpy t'day, baby." He said, kissing that sweet little pearl a couple of times, stroking it with his fingers as you huff out a whine.

"Your fault..." You groaned, daring to look down at him.

Your eyes locked and he gives you a short wink, lowering his mouth again, this time dragging his tongue up your folds slowly before moving back down again as his thumb rolls your clit in opposite tune of his mouth.

Your head dropped back onto the bed and your voice seized in your throat, one hand bunching in the sheets while the other goes to grip at his immaculately slicked-back hair, tugging the strands free as you feel his tongue curl inside of you.

Cooper was good with his mouth; both on-screen and in the bedroom, this was never a debate.

His tongue was so skilled it had your legs all but jelly one night when he parked it at the local lookout; he'd lifted the cupholder separating your seats and tugged your hips over to him, leaning across the divider to eat you out right there in the front seat of his car. You barely had enough time to grasp that it was really happening before he ripped those sweet, sweet sounds he loved so much from you.

God, were you thankful that nobody had caught you two that night; "Cooper Howard caught in compromising position at Lover's Lane" you could just imagine the press salivating at that headline if they'd caught you.

You were happy he kept his antics on set confined to his trailer... but you had a feeling somebody walking by could probably hear what went on in there.

"Oh, fuck--Cooper!" You mewled, arching your back when he slid his long fingers inside of you, his lips wrapping firmly around your clit like a vacuum, writing obscene love-notes with his tongue, drawing more and more of your beautiful voice from inside of you.

Your toes curled and your hand tugged at his hair, making him groan and his eyes roll; his voice vibrating against you in a way that had you practically sobbing.

"Jus'--fuh--fuck." You moaned breathlessly, your heart pounding in your chest, your toes curling so hard you could feel your calves beginning to cramp.

"B-baby I'm--" You hiccuped; "'m gonna... gonna..."

All your words did was spur him on further, encouraging him to flatten his tongue in one long, slow drag until he could flick your clit again, his face and hand already soaked with your mess; his eyes dark and hungry like a wolf about to eat his lamb.

"That's it baby, c'mon, give it t' me." Cooper muttered against you before stroking your clit once again with his fingers, plunging his tongue and fingers inside of you in an alternating rhythm that had your brain feeling like it was turning to liquid sludge inside your skull as your climax hit you as if it were a runaway freight train.

Both of your hands gripped his hair tight, your thighs squeezing around his head, the flesh molding around his head wonderfully as he drank down your release, his hands going around your thighs to reach up and squeeze your belly while you rutted against his mouth; your voice babbling the sexiest things he could ever hope to hear from you.

When your orgasm finally died down and your legs dropped to hang over the edge of the bed, Cooper pulled back and grinned up at you, his face slick and shiny with your juices, his hair an absolute mess.

Fuck, he looked so good like that.

"You good, darlin'?" He asked you, his hands spreading over the squishy pouch of your tummy, his fingers tracing the stretch marks that lightly etched your skin.

"I... Y... yeah. Just need a breather." You pant, your eyelids heavy as you blinked up drunkenly at the ceiling.

"Good. He hummed, leaning down to kiss your throbbing clit, grinning at how your breathing stuttered and your body twitched as he did.

"Cause I can eat a peach for hours, babydoll."

[writingwrench]

Confession (Stanford x Reader)

 I hope y’all enjoy! If you want me to write another or you have a suggestion, hit me up!

 Stanford glanced at the photo of the cheerful woman on his desk. She had this immutable, meanderous personality that he’d fallen hard for.

 Ever since they were younger, he’d had a type of respect for her enthusiastic and bubbly personality. Ever since high school (maybe even before then) he’d acquired an officious fervor for her. He didn’t really know how to tell her for fear of provoking some kind of rancor. 

 Even so, he ventured from his basement in search of his parsimonious heretic of a brother....

 “Stanley?” he asked,shutting the vending machine door. The twin was found sitting at the register, counting his day’s winnings.

 “Hey,bro!” he said, sea-tanned face splitting into a grin.

 “I need help,” Ford muttered,pulling a chair over to the counter and sitting down. 

 Stan set the money down,giving his brother his full attention. It wasn’t like him to ever ask for help. Even when they were on the Stan-O-War II.

 “I....I have feelings for (Y/N)....” he awkwardly began,hoping Stanley would understand. 

 Slowly, Stan began to smirk,before full acclaim filled the room. 

 “Finally, you admit it. It’s been over thirty years!” he laughed. Ford’s face was set aflame. He knew his brother wasn’t being callous, but he still felt somewhat ashamed for him to take this long to bring up the gall to tell her.

   Seeing Ford’s impression of a tomato, Stanley laughed again quietly,before,”Look,Poindexter, just go out there,hike up your big boy panties,  and tell her. She feels the same way...even though I don’t really understand, I am the better looking twin!” He grinned,winking. Which earned him an eye-roll from Ford.

 Still unsure, Ford, paused before the door, before Stan got fed up and just pushed him out to where (Y/N) was sitting with Dipper and Mabel. 

 “-I’m trying to nail that quack reporter for his actions,” She was saying. Stanford didn’t really understand what kind of conversation  he’d managed to walk into, but just hearing her voice, he’d instantly felt relieved. 

 “Hey, (N/N)?” he asked, nervousness seeping into his pores.

 “Hey, Ford!” she smiled brightly,turning to him. He stared at her for a moment, lost in her (E/C) eyes, before the awkward silence was broken by the angel he’d fell in love with.

 “What’s up?” she asked, not at all perturbed by the awkward silence. (She’d gotten used to it fairly quickly since Ford himself was such a cute, awkward person.)

 “I....um...I have to confess something,” he stuttered out, not meeting her eye for fear of peeing himself. He didn’t understand. He could take on demons and other horrifying creatures, but with a mere glance from (Y/N),his knees would buckle and he’d be a total loss for words.

 The girl raised a brow, signaling for him to continue....so he did.

 “I want...um...I would love.. gah,screw it! I’M IN LOVE WITH YOU!!” he yelled,startling (Y/N) and the younger twins.

 It was quiet until- “OH MY GOSH,GRUNKLE FORD!!!!!”

 (Y/N)’s face tinted pink.

 “Kids,” she said shakily,”Please give us some privacy.”

 They did as told, making their way to the house. It wasn’t long before she saw two heads pop up over the window sill. 

 Rolling her eyes and grinning, she rushed over to Ford,tackling him in a fierce hug. They both landed with a thud,before surprised giggles filled the air.

 “I love you too,Ford,” (Y/N) said, still grinning before pulling him to her by the front of his overcoat. Their lips met. The kiss was sweet and passionate, the  both of them marveling at how long it took for them to get to this point.

 They disconnected, resting their foreheads on each other’s shoulder, and quietly grinning.

 “(Y/N), I’m so sorry it took me so long,” Ford finally said,breaking the silence.

 He was met with another kiss.

 “It’s alright,you dork,” she said, still grinning.

 It may have taken forever, but she finally felt truly wanted.

[cheollipop]

YOU DESERVE THE 2K BABES!!! Here’s one for you;

Where San’s lazy to clean up after sex so he ends up falling asleep with his cock inside you. And the next morning ends up fucking you with his cum when he realises that his cock is still buried in you. He’s totally fucked out from the pleasure since he’s still half asleep. ❤️

Have fun with this huhu \(//∇//)\

2𝙠 𝙎𝙡𝙚𝙚𝙥𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙀𝙫𝙚𝙣𝙩

we've come full circle!! I started this sleepover with a somno drabble, and now I'm ending it with another one ^^ anonnie, I am not exaggerating when I say I nearly lost my mind reading this ask....I cannot. whenever desperate san is mentioned, I need to take a breather or else I might commit a felony. maybe it's because it's the last sleepover submission but...this turned out so fluffy and so sappy and ughhhh i love love so much. thank you so much for sending this in!! I had lots of fun writing it out, so I really hope I did it justice,, happy reading~ ( = ⩊ = )♡

pairing: choi san x fem!reader

w.c.: 1.0k

tags: smut, so fluffy, and sappy, somnophilia, morning sex, unprotected sex (👎), multiple creampies, breeding kink, overstimulation, mentioned oral sex (f), they're both very very desperate, and very very in love

nsfw under cut—minors dni!

The new day’s rays peppered kisses over honey skin, soft lashes fluttering open to take in the gold cast over painted walls. San was still groggy, remnants of his dream and hints of last night’s endeavours still clinging to the back of his eyelids as he fought off the insistent drowsiness. Your scent lured him in, nuzzling his nose into the crook of your neck while he drew you closer with arms around your waist, chest flush with your back as he inhaled what was left of your perfume.

He breathed out a soft groan against your skin, the pleasure shooting up his spine dragging him out of the idle state of somnolence he’d slipped into. Awareness flooded his senses—the morning birds sang a familiar melody, accompanying the steady pace at which your hips moved, dragging San’s hardening cock over your sweet spot, fluttering walls enveloping him in their heat. The thick cum he pumped you full of the night before now settled over your thighs and his, crusted over the fresh layer of sweat your ministrations drew out of your pores. San’s mind raced, and then calmed down under the blinding ecstasy coursing through him with every involuntary squeeze around his length, the fingers resting over your waist now gripping the flesh as he resisted the urge to fuck into you.

He allowed you to use him, angle your hips to fit San’s cockhead directly against your g-spot, and chasing your orgasm despite knowing he’d awoken. San grew harder, perhaps because you were so entranced by your own pleasure to pay him any mind, or perhaps because of the images his brain kept drawing up, the questions it kept asking—was his cock buried within your used cunt all night, or did you wake up so desperate to take another load of his cum that you stuffed it back inside yourself?

San groaned into your neck, sliding his hand down to your hip while he lifted his head to peek over your shoulder, the pretty ‘o’ painted on your lips going straight to his groin. Leaning forward, he pressed his mouth to your cheekbone, rolling his hips to meet your own, the steady echoes of skin-on-skin reverberating between the golden walls.

“I gave you so much last night, didn’t I? Oh baby, look at the mess we made,” he mumbled against your skin, fingers tracing a line down the dried-up stream of cum on your inner thighs.

“Sannie, ‘s not enough,” you whined, reaching around to dig your nails into his ass, guiding him into your needy, leaking cunt. “Want you, please, ‘want you so bad.”

“Ah, fuck—I’ll give you whatever you want, darling, I’m all yours,” he snuck an arm under your leg, spreading you wide open before snapping his hips into you once, twice, before his rhythm turned desperate. Desperate to please, desperate to feel you clenching around him, desperate to watch his cum seep out of you under the orange hue of the early morning sun. He fucked the moans out of your parted lips, the dizzying sound harmonising with that of the robins sat at your windowsill. “God, you feel so good. ‘Wanna fill you up again, watch your pretty pussy leak while we eat breakfast.”

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, repetitions of ‘yes’ and San’s name rolling off your tongue while you gripped onto the hand holding your legs apart, the wet squelch of your cunt as it spat slick out every time San buried inside you masked under the overlapping mewls and grunts shared in the air separating you.

And yet, you wanted more. San was in no way a stingy partner, and more often than not, he gave more than he took. Your mind sifted through hazy memories of the prior night: soft hands bringing you down onto his face, nose nuzzling into your clit while he curled his tongue between your walls; his sensitive cock—overstimulated yet still hard—pounding into you, spurting watery strings of cum deep inside you until the fatigue rendered you unable to ask for more, falling asleep with the twitching member stuffed inside you. Perhaps you were just too needy, too drunk on San, too addicted to his being to bare his absence, even if it were for a single second.

“You’re gonna take it all, won’t you? My pretty girl’s gonna let me breed her over and over again, until her pussy can’t fit any more of me inside.”

God, you felt dizzy. Pure bliss buzzed through your body as San guided you over the edge, holding your hand as you dove head-first into a warm ocean of blues, soft waves reflecting the orange beams of sunlight under which you basked. You clamped up around him, and his thrusts turned sloppy, slipping out with how wet you were. He pushed back inside, chest heaving against your back with raspy praise—‘just a little more,’ and ‘good girl, taking me so well’—muttered onto your nape, thighs shaking against the backs of yours while he used your stretched cunt to reach his high.

San’s cock twitched as he finally unloaded within you, his pace slowing into a languid grind, and the breath he’d been holding released over your skin, low-toned moans travelling into your ears as he milked himself of every last drop and fed it into your womb.

Comfortable stillness took over the room, and the thick scent of sex mingled in the air you breathed, but San’s warmth, his scent and body, engulfed your very being, and somehow nothing else mattered anymore. you shifted onto your back, his length slipping out of you with a hiss, and the familiar trickle of the translucent liquid sent a shiver through your spasming frame. San laid on his side, propped up on an elbow while he mooned over the tranquillity gracing your features, hints of sleep still imminent on your puffy eyelids, and yet he couldn’t help but find that endearing—wanting him, needing him, even while barely conscious. San wondered what good he had done in his past lives to be worthy of such unconditional love and adoration, but didn’t dare ponder for too long, afraid of missing the blessing—fucked-out and staring up at him—the universe had bestowed on his present.

[cherrycherrylady2024]

Christmas with the Grimes'

(Dilf! Rick Grimes x reader) Word count: 2,675

Warnings: 18+ for real. NSFW, some angst, fingering, hickeys, grinding, light choking/hair pulling? I need Rick Grimes so bad

Chapter 3: In your dreams

“So then Martian Man defeats the evil robot, except the robot was actually his half-brother the whole time, so he gets really sad at the end of issue #4. Then in #5 he-” Carl was giving you the entire lore behind his new comic book, and you put on your best listening face, while Judith tapped on her phone, having already heard this. Except you weren’t really listening whatsoever. Your mind was in a frenzy of activity. Did he see? Does he know? Who are you kidding, of course he knows. Your face was still red with embarrassment since the incident half an hour ago. If only Carl and Judith weren’t expecting you, you’d have hidden under Rick’s blanket for the rest of the day. Maybe the rest of winter break, but who’s to say?

You wanted to punch him in his stupid handsome face for making you feel like this. Either punch or kiss. Maybe both. That look Rick gave you, you couldn’t get it out of your head. It was nearly a smirk, but more subtle and prideful. Like he knew what he would catch you doing. He knew how you felt. You were petrified to see him again. “...and I haven’t read the new comic yet, but I heard it’s supposed to be pretty good! Do ya wanna borrow it when I'm done?” Carl questioned. You snapped out of your daze. “Oh! Yes, totally. Thanks,” You replied. Judith got up from Carl’s twin bed, where she lounged, “Alright Carl, it’s my turn with y/n. You read your new comic til dinner.” With the word ‘dinner’ you felt your stomach twist unpleasantly, your mind on the verge of implosion. With a whine of “Alriiight,” Carl sat down at his little desk and began poring over the pages. 

Judith led you down the opposite hallway towards her bedroom. As you followed, you passed the only other bedroom in the house. The door was slightly ajar. You heard the floorboards creak underneath him as he padded around the room. Rick was putting away laundry, sloppily folding pants and shirts, and didn’t notice your quick passing. Or at least he didn’t show it. You had lingered back just slightly, but thankfully Judith didn’t notice as you caught right back up with her. “Okay, so I’m right down the hall from you if you need anything. It’ll be weird not sharing a room, right?” she said as she entered her bedroom. “Oh yeah, super weird. What am I going to do without your snoring lulling me to sleep?” you mocked. “You know you love it,” she said, plopping on her bed. Judith's room was adorned with fading pink floral wallpaper, posters, sports trophies, books, and photos. “Anyways this is my room, it clearly hasn't been updated since 2010 but it’s still a vibe,” Judith said. You picked up a photo from her bookshelf. It appeared to be from a high school dance, as Judith wore what could only be considered the ugliest, most ruffled, unflattering dress in the world, and was holding hands with a gawky teenage boy. Both Judith and the boy awkwardly smiled for the photo, turning out more like grimaces with mouths full of braces. “It is totally still a vibe,” you said turning back to her with the picture, containing your laughter. “Fuck off!” she cried, jumping up and snatching the photo from you as you burst out in giggles, “We all make mistakes, it was sophomore year for god's sake,” she said. “I am begging you. Please bring that back to the dorms with us. Please! It can be my Christmas present” you choked out in between laughter, sitting at her desk. Judith gazed at the photo, “I can’t believe I made out with him that night” she said. “Oh god, please no” you responded in horror. “I think our braces got stuck together” she pondered. “PLEASE you’re gonna make me sick” you laughed, covering your ears. Judith snorted and placed it back on the shelf, “Hold on, you’re gonna die when you see this. I think I have it in here,” she said, as she looked hurriedly through her bookshelf. She pulled out a photo album, “Here!” she exclaimed, flipping through the pages. She landed on one and handed it to you, “Talk about bad Prom pictures.”

It was another prom photo, but it appeared to be from the late 80s/early 90s. A tall thin brunette woman grinned widely, almost painfully, at the camera, her dress clearly a hand-me-down from the mid-80s. She held awkwardly at arm's length a man who looked a year or two older. He wore a suit with a ruffle on the collar, which also screamed hand-me-downs. If it weren’t for those eyes, you wouldn't have even recognized Rick Grimes. He looked much less self-assured, maybe even nervous, and probably 10 years younger than the photo you had seen of him in the hallway. “The fucking posing gets me every time, look at my mom's face” Judith laughed. Your stomach started to hurt. “That's your mom?” you questioned. “Yeah,” Judith replied, “The whole photo album’s pictures of her. We made it right after she died as like a commemorative therapy type-thing. Flip through it,” She suggested as she began unzipping her suitcase. You turned the pages slowly. Rick was in many of the photos, but most prominently featured was Mrs. Grimes. You didn’t even know her name. Judiths mom. Ricks wife. The anxious knots in your stomach seemed to tighten more and more. “I’m gonna go lay down.” You stated, hurriedly standing, leaving the photo album on the desk. Judith looked up at you from her suitcase with a hint of concern. “I’m just – tired. I’ll let you unpack,” you added. “Okay,” Judith shrugged. You began to leave, “Oh and I think dinner’s at 7!” she mentioned. Your stomach did flips, but you gritted your teeth, “Okay!”

You shut your bedroom door behind you and climbed into bed, wrapping the covers around yourself. The clock on your nightstand read 5 pm. Your mind was racing. You felt sick with anxiety. Were you a bad person? Are you imagining this all? Every look, or brush of the hands. Were you convincing yourself of something that isn't really there? He's a grown married man. What about Judith? Were you going to ruin the best friendship you’d ever had? Have you already ruined it? Rick knew. He must think you’re a freak. A nuisance. What is wrong with you? What is wrong with you? What is wrong with you? You couldn’t stop the tornado of thoughts in your mind as you drifted off into a fretful slumber.

~~~

You chopped the large bar of dark chocolate into messy chunks, sneaking a few slivers into your mouth now and then. The kitchen around you was endless, spanning into a vague sea of warm glowing nothingness. In fact, there really was no kitchen at all. Just the kitchen island, where you stood, chopping the chocolate bar. Perhaps you were making cookies. Yes, that's what it was: you were chopping the chocolate bar to put into chocolate chunk cookies. You were content, humming to yourself. Maybe this is all you ever did. It was bright and beautiful and heavenly familiar. Two arms snaked their way around your waist, another familiar feeling, Rick's hips to your back as he held you tightly. You breathed deeply at the sensation, lolling your head back to rest on his chest. He stole a tiny piece of chocolate from your cutting board and slipped it into his mouth. You could feel his belt buckle pressing against your skin, leaving an indentation. His heartbeat reverberated through your body as if you were one, the warmth of his chest against your cheek. Wordlessly he dipped his head down, so close you felt his breath against your neck, you could smell the chocolate, his beard slightly scratching you. You dropped your knife and gripped the counter tightly as you felt his lips ever-so-slightly brush against your throat, neck, and ear sequentially. Almost like he was inhaling you. Searching for the right spot. He hesitated, making you wait. His hands gripped you tightly to him. Almost possessive, like you were his. One slowly traveled completely around your waist to the other side, pinning you to him while the other slid down. His palm was stretched wide, his fingertips brushing past where your thigh connects to your hips. The proximity of his hand to where you wanted so badly to be touched was enough to make you let out a little whine. His grip settles on your pelvis bone as he pulls you to him somehow even tighter. You communicated without words, begging him for more. Anything. He slowly lowered his lips to the side of your neck, leaving a feather-light kiss that sent shivers through your body. You pressed your hips back into him impatiently, needing more. He held your hips in place, his grasp verging on slightly painful. But it felt so good. He lightly kissed your neck again, near your jaw. Then, very slowly he moved near your ear, kissing you again. It was like he had all the time in the world to make you unravel.

He trailed down your neck towards your collarbone, his kisses becoming deeper, his lips parting more and more as if to taste you. You craned your head for more access. More, more, more. He groaned against your neck, grinding his hips into yours. His hands began to move over your body, groping and squeezing. One of your hands ran through his hair, pushing his head, his mouth, closer to your skin. The other hand was on top of his, leading his fingers down, down, down. A nearly pornographic sound escaped your lips when he finally cupped his warm hand in between your legs, his fingers applying just the right pressure to your clothed clit. You felt him smile against your throat, before resuming his languid assault on your neck. You moved your hips against his hand as he continued massaging your aching cunt incredibly slowly. “Please Rick” you begged. He was silent, but his fingers sped up incrementally. His other hand squeezed your breast, tracing your hardened nipple through your shirt. He hummed in your ear, clearly enjoying seeing you like this. You rutted your hips into his hand, the pleasure building in your core. Like a rubber band about to snap. He moved his other hand swiftly from your breast to your throat, slowing you down. He gripped it solidly, making you lose your breath. He turned your head to face him as his fingers sped up. You looked up at him, drunk on pleasure, and panting in his face. He smiled down at you, making eye contact that couldn’t be broken even if you tried. You were reaching your climax and he could tell. He stroked your neck, still looking down at you, then ran his fingers past the nape of your neck and through your hair. He gripped a fistful and pulled gently from the roots, forcing you to twist your head and shoulders even more towards him, cocking your head back. He gazed down at you through lidded eyes, studying your face. Your neck was now more exposed to him and he began kissing and sucking marks into your skin, his fingers never stopping, his other hand still pulling your head back. It was all too much for you. You were going to come. “R-rick-” you stuttered. He kissed a trail up your neck, reaching your mouth but keeping his centimeters apart. You breathed in each other's air and you writhed needily, wanting his lips on yours. You were moments away from coming, and let a choked moan escape. He swallowed it down when he finally connected your lips in the most filthy, needy, sloppy kiss. The rubber band snapped and you came hard. Waves of euphoric pleasure racked your body and you moaned into his mouth as he deepened the kiss even more. You could taste the hint of chocolate on his lips as you rode out your climax on his hand, your hips stuttering. He pulled away suddenly, right after your peak, and you opened your eyes in surprise.

You were met with the walls of your dark bedroom surrounding you, and Rick's blanket between your legs.

One of your hands was beneath your raised shirt, and the other was gripping Rick's blanket with an iron fist. Your legs still shook from your orgasm as you gained your bearings. It was a dream. You swore you could still taste a hint of the phantom chocolate. Even though no one had seen, you couldn’t help but feel embarrassed at your… wet dream? Sex dream? Whatever it was. Your subconscious sleeping state had been grinding against Rick Grimes’ blanket as you slept. The dream had felt so real it was unnerving, and you were having difficulty returning to reality. But you also oddly felt better. Maybe it was all out of your system now, and things could just be normal. You were refreshed. Except for the fact that you were extremely thirsty. All that sex dreaming, your brain chimed in. You reached for your phone on the nightstand, but accidentally knocked it off in the dark.

The dark.

Dinner.

What time was it? How long have you been asleep? Sex dreaming, you mentally corrected yourself. You scrabbled for your phone on the ground, flipping it over. The screen lit up, reading 2:12 AM. You had slept through dinner to dream about a fuck-fest with your best friends dad. Woof. While you were still slightly ashamed, you couldn't dispute the fact that it was fucking hot. You kept replaying the dream in your mind. It felt so real. You got out of bed, removed the bundled-up blanket from between your legs, and headed downstairs for some water. The way his lips felt on your neck. His facial hair tickling at your skin. His hands on your body. You knew it was wrong but you wished so badly it was real. Your body clearly did too, as you felt that familiar tingling sensation return in your belly. It made you want to get back in bed and touch yourself until sunrise. Get a grip. You reached the living room and began crossing through to get to the kitchen. 

“Y/n?” came a dark voice from the couch.

You nearly jumped out of your skin, letting out a little gasp in surprise. You could make out a figure in the dark, now sitting up. A sliver of snowy moonlight caught his face and you recognized Rick, holding a half-drunk glass of whiskey. “You missed dinner,” he drawled with a smile, taking a sip of whiskey. You were still frozen in the doorway, unsure if this was even real or not. What was he doing awake? “I- sorry. I don’t know what happened. I didn’t mean to sleep so long…” you say. He waved his hand in dismissal, “It’s fine, I know you girls had a long day,” he said, placing his whiskey on the glass coffee table with a clink. “Plus I’ve never been much of a chef. We ended up gettin’ Chinese food,” he added. Your stomach grumbled hungrily at the mention of food, and you clapped a hand over it in embarrassment. Rick chortled, “I can heat some up for you if ‘ya like. We can’t have you starvin’ to death.” He stood, picked up his glass, and walked towards the kitchen. You trailed behind him, “It’s okay, I can do it. You don’t have to” you pestered. “I want to,” he stated, looking at you briefly as he retrieved a container from the fridge. That shut you up. You sat at the kitchen island, your mind wandering back to your dream. If you weren't definitely, totally, over him, this would be pretty nerve-wracking you thought. Good thing I'm all better now. He opened the box of fried rice and, oddly, got out a pan and put it on the stove. Was he reheating it for you on the actual stove? “I really don’t mind, you can just microwave it. I don’t want you to go to any trouble,” you offer nervously. He dumped the fried rice into the pan with a sizzle, and looked over to you with a smile, 

“I want to, honey. Just let me take care of 'ya.”

...

Sooo, actually you lied. You needed this man more than ever before. Fuck it.

***

notes: tee hee hee, i was giggling and kicking my feet writing this. anyways thx for waiting the past few days I hope this is satisfactory, there's a lot more to come! Literally. PS I've never written a sexy scene before so lmk what u think <3

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Crash and Burn 8

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Tony Stark

Summary: a powerful man comes crashing into your life. Literally.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

It feels like hours since it began. The night assures you of the passing time as each second stretches into eternity. You’re weak as you lay on the floor, sprawled and twitching, as your nerves continue to torture you from the inside.  

A coat of sweat covers every pore and your hair is damp with the endless struggle between hot and cold. You claw at your cheeks and neck as if you can rip open your own flesh like a coat. You just want to be free. You want it to stop. 

You moan senselessly as another thrum builds. Your insides squirm and that knot begins to tie around itself. You heave and curl up in a ball as you bite down on your lip. Right as you’re about to climax, the tide ebbs and leaves you dried out. 

“Please,” you sob, “Tony, please... I can’t...” you rasp as you try to sit up, only to fall back onto your side, “please...” 

“What’sa matter, sweetheart? You need some help?” He taunts as his footsteps echo around the room. 

“Yessss,” you whine. 

“Mm, and how can I help you?” He tisks. 

“Please...” 

“Tell me. Tell me what you want me to do to help you, sweetheart,” he stops, his shadow looming over you like a wraith. “Say it nice and clear for me.” 

You groan and wipe your forehead, a sheen slathering your knuckles. 

“Tony, please--” 

“Say it, baby, because I’m a bit confused here. You said you didn’t want me but you’re sending mixed signals--” 

“Just!” You screech and force yourself flat, your body vibrating. “Please, Tony, fuck me. Just do it. End it. I need... I need to cum. It hurts.” 

“Ah, I know it hurts. You know what else hurts? Words. You called me disgusting,” he scoffs. 

You growl and writhe. He hasn’t exactly proven you wrong but you can’t think straight enough to argue. You can’t think at all. 

“Please, you’re not—I--” 

“Tell me you want me, sweetheart.” 

You pout and your eyes well with tears, “I want you. Please.” 

“And how do you want me?” He kneels down, hovering by your head as he holds a finger over his watch. 

“I... any way? I don’t care--” 

“Tell me how you want me,” he demands. 

You groan and clutch at your chest, “inside me. Er, oh...” you drone, “from behind?” 

“Oh, kinky girl? You got a nice peach, don’t ya?” He reaches to tickle your thigh and you babble as you bite your lip. Just a touch and you’re on fire. 

He pulls his hand away from his watch. The buzz inside of you remains tepid but still there, just enough to keep you uncomfortable. He grabs you by your arm and stands, hauling you up to your feet. Your legs wobble dangerously under you. 

He wraps his arm around your back and turns you to face the cityscape outside the tower. He walks you across the room and leads you before the window. He shifts to stand behind you and guides your hands to the glass pane. You brace it desperately as you fight to keep from collapsing. 

The sharp cut of his zipper rises in the air and you whimper. Your palms smear on the window as he lets his pants fall to his ankles with a rustle that sends a breeze up your back. You shiver as he traces the curves of your sides and frames your hips. He brings your feet back so you stand at a slight angle. He kicks your heels apart with his leather shoe. 

You can’t help but arch in expectation. Desperation. You just need it to end. You need the release. Your panting breaths fog up the glass as the city sparkles back at you. 

He keeps a hand on your hip as his other flutters up your ass. You moan and he snickers. He steps closer and pulls his thumb back to press his tip down between your cheeks. You groan and lean back, begging silently. 

He rubs himself up and down your crack, teasing you, taunting you. Your thighs quiver and your fingertips stick to the glass, squeaking loudly. You stand on your toes and push against him. 

He trails down and presses his tip along your entrance. You whine and stick your tongue. You purr around it and slap the window. You wish he would just put it in! 

As if he can read your thoughts, he dips into you. You gurgle and put your forehead to the glass pane. You growl as he bottoms out and drags his hand up to your neck. He pins you as you are and thrusts. The panel shakes but you don’t have the sense to care. 

He slides back and you reach to latch onto him. You pull him back into you and dig your nails into him. He slaps his hand over yours and bucks. You grunt and huff. 

“Fucking more,” you demand. 

“Hey, sweetheart, don’t get snappy with me.” 

He rams again and you squeal. 

“Fuck, yeah,” you sigh. “Fuck.” 

“Mmm, I like you like this,” he ruts again. “Clinging onto me for dear life.” 

He flicks his wrist oddly and suddenly, the pane slides away and you’re left with only air before you. You flail out with one arm as you hang onto him with your other. He keeps you balance as he snakes his arm around you and rolls his hips. 

“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” he snarls as he bends to nuzzles your shoulder. “I got ya.” 

[anothermansjeans]

I just think it would be so sweet youtuber!reader and Spencer recording a skincare video, being silly with face masks and the whole thing (obviously normally he just washes his face with water before bed but the reader is in the process of changing that)

oh my god this was going one place and then i took it somewhere else LMAO but i love this sm! thanks for sending it in 🫶

cw: fluff, menace spencer at it again, soooooooo sweet it will give you a toothache

wc: 1k

youtuber!reader masterlist

++

“You ready, babe?”

Spencer looked down at the vanity adorned with various products, giving you a small nod before looking between you and the camera. Ever since watching Spencer just rinse his face off with water one morning about a week ago, you've been brewing up the idea of a skincare routine video to get him in the groove of taking his skin health seriously. For a man who loves to tell you what products (or lack of products) aren't helping your skin, he sure did little to make sure his routine was up to his standards.

“Okay! Hello, lovelies! Today I’m with Spencer,” you gestured over to him, “and we are going to be doing my nighttime skincare routine! Spence, would you mind sharing with the audience your skincare routine?”

He furrowed his brows and looked over to you, “a routine is a sequence of actions regularly followed, like a fixed program. I don't have procedures I go through so I wouldn't classify it as a routine.”

“Okay,” you tried to maintain your giggles, “then tell them what you usually do for your skin before you go to bed.”

“Well,” he began, looking back at the cameras and talking with his hands, “Sometimes, if I feel as though my pores had excreted more oil than normal and Y/N’s face wash is out, I'd use that, but more times than not, she's in bed before me so I’ll just use water.”

A pout formed on your face as you looked at the camera. “Terrible, I know.”

“Hey!”

“Anyway,” you gently placed a hand on his arm, the action soothing him while simultaneously letting him know you meant no harm, “we’re going to fix that. Today, I’ll not only be showing you my routine, but also getting Spencer to do it with me!”

The video went on without a hitch. You started with a cleanser and then went into an exfoliator. Now, you had your container of clay mask sitting in front of the two of you. “Now we’re on the third step. This mask cleans pores, brightens skins, and detoxifies skin,” you look up from reading the jar to see a contemplative look on Spencer’s face. “You good, Spence?”

“Yes, yes, I just don't know how I would go about putting it on my face.”

With soft eyes, you gently opened the lid and scooped a small clump of the mask onto your finger. “I’ll put yours on for you, okay?”

He smiled and gave a nod before you swiped your finger down his cheek, spreading out what you had into a thin layer. “This feels nice,” he said, closing his eyes and letting out a soft hum.

“It’s supposed to.” The moment felt very domestic, and you couldn't wait for the time where you'd do this without the camera. The serenity of the moment was cut short though, when you went to scoop more of the mask onto your finger and the jar started to slip from your grasp. The shock of it almost falling sent one of your hands flying up, which caused whatever clay you had on your hand to fling onto Spencer’s unsuspecting face.

You registered the gasp he elicited when you stabilized the jar on the vanity, and when looking over at Spencer, you saw the splatter of clay painted across his face. “I am–” you started to laugh, but used your clean hand to cover your mouth, “I am so sorry, baby.”

“No, no, it’s okay.” His thin smile was giving mixed signals, but you assumed nothing of it when he changed to topic. “Could I take a look at the ingredients?”

Giving a quick nod, you didn't take notice of how quick he grabbed the mask and swooped his fingers in. Not a second later, you felt the cool substance flung across your face. All you did was blink at him– him, and his shit-eating grin– before folding your lips in and letting out a hum. “Spencer…”

His face slowly morphed into one of concern, “I don't know why I thought that was okay. Y/N, I’m sorry. We can clean this up and–” and a big splat sound echoed in the room and Spencer promptly shut his mouth when a lump of the mask landed on his forehead and began to drip down the bridge of his nose. Your laugh caused a fire to light in his eyes, and he once again grabbed the jar. “Oh, I see how it is.”

“You started a war, Spence.” When he aimed his fire, you stood up and ran over to your bed, grabbing a pillowcase. “You wouldn't target one of our very expensive pillowcases?”

“You're the one sacrificing it!” He flung the clay, and you used the pillow to block the blow. At the amount on the pillow, your eyes widened with humor, “That’s almost the entire jar!”

Laughing, Spencer stalked forward with another handful of the mask. “I’ll buy you more,” he said, cornering you before smearing his hand all down your face.

Your gasping giggles filled the room, and Spencer leaned his forehead down onto yours as you both calmed down. “This video has gone off track.”

“I’m sorry,” his voice was soft and gentle, a big contrast from the chaotic clay war from moments ago.

“Don't. I’m having more fun than anticipated.” Your arms made their way around his neck, gently carding your fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck. Yeah, you still had the clay mask all over your hands, but you were over one-hundred percent sure the two of you would be taking a shower in less than five minutes.

“You didn't anticipate having fun with me while doing skincare?” His eyes held a playful glint.

Gently pulling his head down so that your lips grazed his, you whispered, “I always anticipate having fun with you, Dr. Reid.” And with that, he captured your lips with his, the face mask smearing all over your faces without a care in the world. The video was the last thing on your mind… you'll continue it at a later time.

++

youtuber!reader taglist: @im-a-ghost666 @lyd14k4y @happiestcat @hauntedtv13 @obi-wansgirl

let me know if you would like to be added or removed!

[tojisun]

alejandro vargas x fem reader; valeria garza x reader

!! reader is only mentioned

price thought that the interrogation was over but alejandro stepped up again, anger oozing out of his pores as he loomed over valeria. price would have commended their captive for her straight face but he realized that it wasn’t a facade – valeria truly wasn’t scared. she didn’t give any shite for whatever alejandro was bound to say.

“where is she?” alejandro asks, his explosive anger having been reduced to a simmering rage – no longer sputtering but just as scorching. his change in temper almost distracted price from alejandro’s question but as it registers in his head, price’s body locks.

she. an unknown variable where alejandro is yet at another losing end. 

valeria straightened up on her chair, her aloof attitude overtaken by a startling anger that engulfs her in rippling waves. 

“far away,” she spits out. “where she can no longer be hurt by a goddamn cowboy.”

alejandro snaps his teeth, seizing valeria by her shoulder. the action spurs the rest of the 141 to flank both parties but neither valeria nor alejandro pay them any heed, choosing instead to keep snarling at each other.

“you poisoned her mind,” alejandro says. “you put ideas in her head, twisted the person that i am until you were able to make her resent me.”

valeria barks out a laugh, a sound that scratches her throat even though they could all hear the lack of humour behind it. her body shakes as she does so, throwing her head back in faux elation. through it, alejandro’s jaw clenches, his eyes furrowing even more as he watches her.

“oh vaquero,” valeria states as her laughter peters out. “i didn’t even have to do much, not when you actually left us. left her.” 

alejandro snatches his hand from valeria’s shoulder like he’s been burned, his face losing colour. valeria’s lips curl into a smirk, moving to sit back down as though her words had not stung even herself.

“i didn’t leave her.”

no one missed how alejandro had not refuted his claims of leaving valeria.

she hums, unbothered. “you chose war over our wife, vaquero. there is no excuse.”

and there it was, the missing piece. 

price tries not to react but his hands twitch at the revelation, the weight of what is happening settling in. he realizes that this is a territory that he rather not be part of so he turns, meeting rudy’s eyes and with a nod, they begin to escort valeria out. 

alejandro stays at the very back, quiet and lost in his own thoughts.

[storm-angel989]

I know, you know we both know how much my heart belongs to Val but my minds been drifting around the last few days, so can I get a Vox x Vel x reader where reader and Vel are doing a girls night with face masks, skin care and doing there hair and stuff. They practically force Vox to participate. Reader does his nails while Vel runs around looking for something because she looked at Vox and was like "I have the perfect thing" I want some eye burning fluff because I don't usually read fluff you know about my obsession with doing peoples nails and im still throthing at the mouth for the idea of doing lucifers nails with iridescent gold with dark red details oh Satan's left ball sack I want to make a fic about it so so bad also about angelic steel acrylics I want reader to rip someone's throat out with them also just imagine reader digging her claws into Val's back while he fucks her oh my fuck, no this is Vox and Vel time anyways have an amazing day

Valentino leaned over and kissed my forehead “mi amore, are you sure you’re okay with me leaving? I mean, it’s just…” His hand fell to my belly as his voice trailed off. 

“Val, I’m fine,” I replied. “Really. I’m pregnant, not sick. And Uncle Lucifer is going to drop by later to check in. But really, I promise I’m fine.”

“Yeah, Val- we’re going to do a girls night, so either pop off or get pulled in,” Velvette added as she looked up from her phone. “Face masks, nails- you name it, we’re doing it.”

Valentino grimaced, “as lovely as that sounds I think I’ll pass.” 

“I just want you to be safe, okay honey?” I pleaded as he kissed me again. “I’ll see you tomorrow night?” 

“I’ll see you tomorrow night,” he promised. 

As soon as the elevator door clicked closed, Velvette turned her attention to me. 

“Let’s get to it- we both could use the relaxation.” 

An hour later, Velvette had my hair braided back and I wore a fluffy spa headband with a big pink bow. On my face was a green goop that she swore was good for my pores. My fingers flowed through her thick hair as I attempted to do a simple braid. 

“There,” I said finally as she pulled the headband over the top of her head. 

She adjusted her bow and I sat as she carefully wiped the goop from my face. 

“What are you two doing?” Vox asked as he leaned over the couch. “And what in gods name is on the TV?”

“Fifty first dates,”  I giggled as she wiped the last bit away. “It’s a girls night! There is pizza on the table if you want some!” 

He walked around and grabbed a piece of pizza from the table and took a seat on the couch. I watched as Velvette looked him up and down as a grin spread across her face. 

“You know Vox….you look like you could use a little r&r…” she began slowly. 

“Oh fuck no, don’t even start,” he began. 

Velvette looked at me and I stood up and joined her. I took his free hand in mine.

“I don’t know much about screens, but your nails definitely need work. Vel?”

“I think I have the perfect thing for that tired face,” she added. 

Vox groaned, “I’m not getting out of this am I?” 

“No!” Velvette and I replied in unison. 

Lucifer walked in an hour later to Vox laying on the couch, his eyes completely obscured by two bright green cucumber slices. A soft pink cloth mask covered his face as Velvette rubbed something on his upper arms and shoulders. I had busied myself with his nails, intent on buffing and glossing up his fingers. 

“What are you two doing to that man?” Lucifer asked with a twitch of a smile. 

“Honestly, Lucifer, you should consider joining in. Vel’s hands are magic,” Vox muttered. “And my hands feel so soft.” 

“I think I’ll pass,” he replied casually as he plopped himself down on the couch. “After you’re done torturing Vox, what’s on your agenda?” 

“Vel’s going to do my nails,” I replied easily as I filed down the last of Vox’s fingers. “She said she has a surprise. But Uncle Lucy, let me see your hands.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Oh fuck no. Reader. I’m a busy man, I don’t have time to…”

“Aw, come on,” I whined lightly. “Come on, don’t make me play the pregnancy card this early in the game.” 

Lucifer rolled his eyes but sat down on the couch opposite Vox. I squealed and grabbed the manicure kit. 

“Only my hands,” he warned as I took his left hand in mine. “I’m warning you right now.” 

“Oh just relax,” Velvette scolded lightly as she came around the back of the couch. She pushed Lucifer’s shoulders back against the cushion. “Let us do our thing.”

Lucifer groaned. “Fine. But don’t tell anyone. And I’m setting an alarm. When it goes off, I need to leave. Got it?”

“Got it,” I said quickly as I began to work on his hands. “Just relax and let Vel and I work our magic!” 

By the time Lucifer’s alarm buzzed, his nails had transformed into bright red, carefully detailed with black and gold. His face was covered with a deep red paper mask and his eyes were hidden under two slices of cucumber. 

“Alright Uncle Lucy, you’re good to go,” I said cheerfully as I took off the mask and cucumbers. “Take a look!” 

He groaned but sat up slowly and stretched. “I will say I do feel better…holy shit, what do you do to my nails?”

I giggled, “I made them pretty! Do you love them?”

He sighed, “I will admit, they do look good. And this is the most I’ve relaxed in quite a long time.” He stood up and stretched. “Just for that, Vel I won’t even charge you.”

“Charge you?” I asked curiously as Velvette took a small package from his outstretched hand. “For what?” 

“Angelic steel,” Velvette replied with dark excitement. “For your nails, reader. Figured with the baby in your tummy you could use a little extra protection.” 

Vox sat straight up, the cloth falling from his face. “You’re doing what now?” 

Velvette looked pleased with herself. “What? Nails don’t have to just be pretty, you know. They can also be weapons!” 

“As true as that may be, take care not to cut reader on them, would you? They will make her bleed, and that defeats the purpose,” Lucifer said with a yawn. “Have a good night girls, and be nice to Vox, won’t you?” 

I felt his power leave the room as Velvette reached over and took my hand in hers. 

“Definitely steel tips,” she said decisively as she interlaced her hands with mine for a moment. “Relax your hands. I got this.”

An hour and a half later I admired the sharp points that became my nails. Vox had long since left us to our own devices, preferring the luxury of sleep to our chatter. 

“Just be careful with them, you can’t kill anyone but even a swipe will cause pain and an actual scratch…go ahead, try it on Vox while he’s sleeping.” 

“Yeah, no thanks I’m good, he’d shock me or something,” I said as I held their sparkle up to the light. “Looks good with my rings too.” 

“Well yeah, red, silver and blue look good on you,” Velvette rolled her eyes. “It’s after midnight, should we get to bed?” 

The sound of the elevator coming up yanked us both to attention. In seconds, Velvette had me behind her, a knife drawn from seemingly nowhere. The door slid open and Valentino walked out, looking tired. 

“Vel? Princessa? What are you still doing up?” He asked tiredly. “It’s late.”

I perked up instantly and ran to him. He caught me and kissed my cheek.

“Val, you weren't supposed to be home until tomorrow night!” I said as I wrapped my arms around his neck. 

“Yeah, well, let’s just say I ended the deal faster than anticipated,” he replied as he held me to him. 

“Look! Vel did my nails,” I said excitedly. “Angelic steel!”

Valentino gave Velvette a look. She grinned and gave a big yawn. 

“Ah well, look at the time! Housekeeping will clean up the mess later, g’night loves!” she said cheerfully.

“G’night to you too,” Valentino mumbled.

He snuggled me to him a little tighter and carried me down the hallway that led to our bedroom. He set me down on the bed with a kiss as he began to undress. I leaned back against the pillows and rested one hand on my stomach as I watched. God, that man was sexy. 

“Careful, with those nails,” he warned as he turned back towards me. “Don’t scratch yourself too hard, it will hurt.”

“Leave the shirt off, I want to snuggle” I said quickly. 

He rolled his eyes but tossed his shirt aside and climbed into bed next to me. I quickly snuggled against his chest and lightly glided my nails hand down his chest to his abs, leaving faint red lines. 

“Mmm, Papi,” I said softly. “We can still fuck, you know, I’m only in the first trimester. And I want nothing more than to run these nails down your back.” 

He let out a groan and with one swift motion, I was on my back, his lips pressed against my neck. I ran my nails down his back with just the slightest amount of pressure. He grunted and pushed himself inside of me.

“Fuck, Valentino,” I moaned as his hips moved faster. I dug my nails deeper into his skin and almost instantly he exploded inside of me. 

“God fucking damn it,” he hissed as he rested the entire weight of his head on my shoulder. “Fuck.” He lifted his head and kissed my neck slowly, trailing down my body. “Your turn, bebé muñeca.”

I let out a moan as his tongue flicked against my clit. I felt a finger slide inside of me and in seconds, I came around him. I heard him laugh softly as he kissed his way back up my body, adding several extra kisses around my belly before he pulled me into his arms. Wordlessly, I tucked my head under his chin and closed my eyes. 

There was nowhere in the universe I slept better than in Valentino’s arms.