#can u tell i have a tone preference

[kandicon]

Avatar of the Web who keeps getting mistaken for an avatar of the Stranger because nobody cares to understand the nuance between marionettes and mannequins.

[ywuji]

yuuji doesn’t think he buys you things often, but your bed full of stuffed animals says otherwise. (f!reader, plushie humping and them watching u fuuuuck)

often times when he goes out with friends or on missions, yuuji will come back with little trinkets or toys he thought you would like.

he doesn’t listen when you tell him you have nowhere to put them—when he gifts them to you, he’ll just smile his giddiest smile, hoping you’ll forget about that for a moment.

it's funny because he’ll come over to your tiny uni room down the hall from his own, see his gifts taking up the majority of your space that you’re meant to have, and he’ll still have a mind to think of other things he could get you!!

‘the more the merrier!��� is the sentiment of all of his lighthearted protests when you bring it up in conversation—and he’s genuine with that—but there’s also something else.

something about those times when either you or him are away and you’re missing each other, him telling you to call him—voice or video, ‘whichever you prefer, cutie’—and the conversation ending up in him talking you through straddling his favourite stuffie of the day and grinding your sweet little wet cunnie on it.

"does he feel good, sweetie? …yeah. y'sound so pretty... mhmm, sound so good, my love. keep going, baby."

"nonono, you’re doing great, honey. i know you’re tired, but it’ll be over soon, yeah? just a little more and you can cum… yeeaahh that’s it, princess, doing so well f’me."

"f-fuck… l-look so cute, baby… can you see? ’m leaking so much. …mhm, ‘s all you, pretty girl, ‘s all f’you."

or the other times, when he spends the night at yours, and you touch and you kiss, and the next thing you know is that you’re pushed into the bed, surrounded by your dear stuffies, whining and mewling as yuuji hungrily looms over you, pumping his thick cock into your wet, messy heat.

“yuuji..! a-ah! ‘s too much, ji—ah!” you whimper, voice struggling to come out of your throat every time he pushes into you. he knew from your previous three orgasms he gave that you're reaching your limit, and he’d pull away if he knew you wanted him to, but the way you’re grasping at his toned back, his beautiful neck, and his tousled hair, pulling him closer, deeper into you—he knows you can take it.

“pussy so fuckin’ good, princess… l-love it so much—f-fuck! s-so good for me, baby,” he caresses your precious head, brushing hair out your face and staring right into your eyes as he pushes himself in further into you. the waft of his breath heating your cheeks as he praises you, “suckin’ me in s-so—fuck—tight…“

“‘m close, ji! s-so good! ohmygod…!” you grip onto him impossibly tight, fingers digging into his thick, muscular shoulders.

“h-haah—y-yeah? me t-too... where can i cum, baby?” he pants, his whimpers that you love so much becoming louder.

“inside! insideinside! please inside! pleaseplease—please!” you choke out. you don’t have to wait a moment longer before he’s pounding into you like your lives depend on it, fat cock drilling you at an angle, stretching you out and hitting all those right spots only he can reach.

“c-cumming…! ‘m cu—!“ his lips crash into yours, swallowing your sweet sounds as you cum and cream around his cock, legs wrapping tightly around him feeling ropes of his thick, hot cum spurting into you as you both shake and tremble from your orgasms.

he lowers the rest of his body onto you, being careful not to crush you. his face burying itself in the crook of your neck, whispering little praises and tender words of affection. ‘love you so so much, baby’, ‘did so well for me, pretty’, ‘look so beautiful when you cum’. with his sweaty front now pressed to yours, he lays still. warming his cock inside your cunt to let the both of you ride out your blissful highs.

his head comes up to look into your dazed eyes as you gently cup his hot cheeks. he smiles and chuckles breathily, littering quick kisses from your lips to your chest, licking and sucking cheekily at your nipples, leaving a few lovebites on your breasts.

moving to sit up on his knees, he looks down at where the two of you connect, softly rocking his hips and moving circles over your sensitive clit, watching the sticky white ring of your mixed orgasms coat his cock with each slow thrust.

you whine and hold out shaky fingertips to his hips. he grins, pulling his cock out painstakingly slow, watching his cum leak out of you, collecting it up with his fat cockhead, and pushing it back into you with one last gentle thurst.

“yuuji...” you mewl out with a small pout on your face.

“yeah, honey?” he looks at you with wide eyes and flushed cheeks.

“...they were watching the whole time.” you point to the little crowd of plushies who are all faced towards you, an odd feeling washing over you as you realise your shared stuffed ‘children’ witnessed the two of making love right in front of their plastic eyes.

he shrugs nonchalantly, a tired smile on his face “it’s not that bad.” he teases.

“wha-?! what do you mean…?!”

“they’ll just learn a few things,” he smiles playfully at your puzzled expression. “y’know? like how to be in love and… how it feels to know someone truly.” he nods his head and purses his lips as if he's just said something deep.

“you’re so stupid.”

[bkgml]

I desperately need a part 2 to the head scratching obsession katsuki has with a few different scenarios preferably MAYBE reader scratches his head w her pretty nails while there hanging out w friends and he’s trying SO HARD not to let them see him fold 😭

OHHHHHHHH YESSSSS

car ride

i’m thinking of u and katsuki sitting in the backseat of a car idk who’s driving maybe it’s a bakusquad road trip and everyone else is asleep

(except kiri who has his eyes locked on the road)

and it’s getting super late but youre still a couple hours from the hotel.

i’m thinking it’s like a van situation and u and kats are in the back back bc kats hates having eyes drilling into the back of his skull.

and you can tell he’s getting super sleepy but he keeps saying he’s fine and he can wait until you’re out of the car.

i’m thinking you’re leaning up against the window with your legs in his lap and his body keeps deflating with tiredness and eventually you just tug at his arm and open yours in invitation.

he huffs but flops down onto your lap anyway but he’s still frowning as if it’s the biggest inconvenience in the world.

until he feels your heavenly nails graze his scalp, sending full body chills through him causing him to nuzzle into you and groan lightly.

it doesn’t take long for him to still, falling into a deep sleep.

and just know he’s going to be annoyed to the max when you get to the hotel. grumbles that you should just sleep in the car.

drunk

you’ve been at the club for 3 hours now, you’re dancing with mina and you look real sexy. if only it wasn’t so late. katsuki is dead tired and is ready to just flop into bed.

“bro take a shot, you look like you’re gonna fall asleep at the table.” kiri advises before downing three shots with denki.

“bullshit.” katsuki murmurs.

“why not bro? you’re not driving.” sero says with a hint of malice in his tone, stuck being the DD for the night.

“whatever. just order more shots.” katsuki groans.

****************************************************

“katsukiiii!” you cheer, skipping over to him giddily.

“that’s not katsuki anymore, yn. thats BIG KB!” denki cheers, earning a groan from mina.

“what is that stupid ass nickname.” she says, rolling her eyes.

taking a closer look at your boyfriend he does seem a little out of it.

“what’s the matter… big kb?” you tease, grinning.

you’re only a little tipsy. mostly high on life of the dance floor but sober enough to think straight.

“had some drinks.” he murmurs, fingers reaching over to rub against your cheek.

you pause, slightly stunned at his words.

“wow.. did you lose a bet kats?” you question, leaning into his touch.

he shakes his head, frowning at you thinking he would ever lose a bet to the idiots.

“nah he was just a sleepy guy, weren’t ya?” denki teases, pinching katsuki’s arm.

katsuki frowns, shrugging denki off.

you giggle leaning closer to katsuki.

“you a little tired, suki?” you whisper to keep the conversation private.

he frowns, offended.

“no? could stay here all night.” he mumbles, crossing his arms over his chest.

you make a ‘really?’ face at him.

he scoffs. as if you don’t believe him, ridiculous.

“go back out and dance.” he says, nudging you away softly.

you hesitate, wanting to settle down for the night yourself now.

katsuki’s so cute when he’s drunk, you just want to be at home with him.

“guys we’re actually just gonna uber home right now, but this was super fun.” you say smiling and katsuki frowns deeply.

the four had moved onto another conversation while you talked to katsuki, their attention now turning to you and your boyfriends big frown.

“wow, getting lucky tonight bakugou?” denki grins.

katsuki wraps an arm around you as if to protect you from his words.

“we’re not even going home, shut it.” he grunts.

you turn your head to look at your boyfriend.

“yes we are.” you say gently.

“no.”

“katsuki, yes.” you say firmly.

“no.”

you feel frustration bubble up in your head but push it down in favour of sneaking your arm behind katsuki’s head, fingers dancing on the very back of his neck.

“no. not this shit.” he groans, but doesn’t move away from your touch.

“shhhh, let’s go home big kb.” you whisper into his ear.

your hand toys with the hairs at the back of his neck before snaking up from his neck to the crown of his head, causing chills to spread throughout katsuki.

he groans deeply.

“fine.” he grits out between his teeth, refusing to look down at you.

“ha! did you see that mina?! did you see-“ denki gets cut off at katsuki shoving him off his place on the booth, making denki tumble onto the floor so you and kats can get out.

[theostrophywife]

if u have time could u do theo taking care of a drunk reader?? thank u sm ❤️

here (in your arms).

pairing: theodore nott x reader.

song inspiration: here (in your arms) by hellogoodbye.

author's note: in a soft fluffy theo mood. don't text.

The boisterous sounds coming from the common room party filtered through the empty corridor of the boy's dormitories, making you sway to the beat of the music as you lifted your fist to the door. You rapped against the wood three times—your signature knock to let your best friend know that it was you on the other side.

You stepped back as the door swung open, revealing a disoriented Theo. His ruffled hair flopped over his eyes, the brown waves slightly flat on the right side, which you knew was his preferred side to sleep on. A twinge of guilt tugged at your heart as you watched the sleepy boy before you, his Chudley Cannons sweatshirt and light grey lounge pants indicating that you had probably interrupted his slumber. A rarity, given that your best friend suffered from insomnia more often than not.

Rubbing his eyes, Theo adjusted to the darkness of the hallway and glanced down at you. In your tiny little dress, you shivered in the cool air of the dungeons, wrapping your arms around yourself in an attempt to chase away the goosebumps.

"Hi Teddy," you whispered. "Did I wake you?"

"You did, but I don't mind." Theo said softly, rubbing up and down your arms to provide some much needed warmth. "What are you doing still up?"

"Pans convinced me to play another round of beer pong," you confessed. "You should have seen us. We obliterated the boys. Malfoy threw a fit."

The silly giggle that you covered behind your hand made Theo smile. If your constant swaying wasn't enough of an indication that you were currently inebriated, the deep red flush on your cheeks, neck, and arms told Theo all that he needed to know. You were absolutely sloshed.

"I'm sorry I missed it, dolcezza." When your body temperature refused to thaw, Theo shrugged off his jumper. For a brief moment, you caught a glimpse of his toned stomach, his olive skin glimmering in the dim lighting. You bit your lip, averting Theo's gaze. Luckily, he was too preoccupied with pulling the jumper over your head to notice. "Come in, let's get you warm, yeah?"

"Mmkay," you murmured in agreement. You trailed behind Theo, almost knocking into the doorway until he laced his fingers through yours, guiding you inside his dorm.

"There's a door there, amorina."

"Don't make fun, Teddy." You huffed, pouting as you followed closely behind. "Your room's too dark. How can you even see anything in here?"

Theo chuckled. "Sure, let's blame the lack of light instead of the fact that you're smashed."

"Am not," you countered, plopping onto Theo's large, plush bed. "I'm perfectly sober, thank you very much."

"Fine. Then who was the Minister of Magic during the Goblin Rebellion in 1752?"

"There were two ministers at the time. Boot was in office first, then he resigned due to mismanagement. Basil Flack replaced him." You smirked at your best friend, feeling rather smug. "Just because I'm bevvied doesn't mean that you'll catch me lacking, Theodore."

Theo raised a brow. "So you admit you're drunk?"

"You tricked me!"

"Guilty as charged." Theo admitted, plopping down right next to you. "So, did you bail on the party just to hog my bed?"

"It's not my fault that yours is much more comfier than mine," you mumbled, cocooning yourself underneath his comforters. "Plus, the party wasn't as fun without you there. I needed my partner in crime."

"I thought you'd be glad that I studied for the History of Magic exam instead of getting shitfaced. You're the one always telling me off about partying too much."

"Yeah, but I didn't think you'd actually listen."

"It's you," Theo said with a smile. "Of course I listened."

"I never thought I'd live to see the day when Theodore Nott is more responsible than me."

A smile tugged at your best friend's lips. "Well, one of us has to be. You're a mess, Y/N," he teased. "But you're my mess."

"As if that's not the pot calling the kettle black."

Theo chuckled as you buried yourself in his blankets, hiding from him entirely. He snuck underneath the covers and scooted closer until you were face to face.

"Hello," Theo whispered, wrapping his arms around your waist. He buried his face in the crook of your neck and hugged you liked he hadn't seen you all week. "I've missed you quite terribly."

"It's only been a few hours, Teddy." You replied, giggling as you brushed his hair back. It was getting so long, but you loved how soft and fluffy his locks felt as you ran your fingers through it.

"Says the girl who snuck into the boy's dorms to see me."

"Okay, so maybe I missed you too."

"That's what I thought."

You stayed intertwined for a moment, your hearts beating in sync as you clung onto one another. When you yawned, Theo patted your leg. "Come on, love. Let's get you ready for bed."

"But I'm already comfy," you whined, burying your face in his chest.

"I know, amorina. But you'll feel so much better after you've washed your face." You pouted in response. "I promise I'll make it quick. Then we can cuddle, okay?"

You nodded. "Okay, Teddy."

Theo smiled before giving you a piggyback ride to his private bathroom. Setting you down on the counter, he pulled out the makeup wipes that he kept in the drawer for this exact reason. You swung your legs in the air as he wiped the foundation off your face. With his brows furrowed and his tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth, you'd never seen Theo so concentrated.

You grinned and pinched his cheek. "You're so cute when you're focused."

He quirked a brow as he helped you wash off the remnants. "Only when I'm focused?"

"No, you're cute all the time. It's infuriating." You lamented as Theo patted your face with a face cloth. He hummed, spreading serums and moisturizers on your skin like he'd seen you do a thousand times over.

"Oh? Care to share?"

"Hmm," you hummed, leaning into his touch. "I think it's cute when you hook our pinkies together in the hallway so I don't get overwhelmed by the crowd. Or when you get crumbs all over your face and grin like a little kid when I catch you raiding my cookie stash. Or how your eyes light up when we're watching the stars at night."

"You noticed all of that?" Theo asked softly.

"It's you," you answered, mirroring his words from earlier. "Of course I noticed."

The shy smile on his face made your heart flutter. "For the record, I think you're cute too. I think you're the cutest girl I've ever seen in my entire life."

"Sounds like you have a crush on me, Teddy."

"I have for the past six years. Thanks for finally noticing," he said with a chuckle.

You groaned, burying your face into his neck. "Don't say that to me when I'm drunk. What if I don't remember it tomorrow?"

Theo kissed the top of your head and carried you off to bed. "Then I guess I'll just have to remind you in the morning, love."

With a grin, you kissed the tip of his nose. "Thanks for taking care of me, Teddy."

Theo smiled. It was so beautiful that your heart ached to bear witness to it. As he tucked you into bed and wrapped his arms around you, the boy that you loved pressed a kiss to your temple and spoke a promise into the night.

"I'll always take care of you, Y/N."

Taglist: @annaisabookworm @marina468 @yaraasthings @the0doreslover @bubybubsters @moony-artemis @natasha887 @lucyysthings @criesinlies @bunnymallowo @niktwazny303 @letmedownslows @siriuslyalovergirl @wordsarelife @clairesjointshurt @daydreamingabthar

[osarina]

ᡣ𐭩 MID DAY NAPS WITH DAZAI!

FEATURING: dazai osamu

SUMMARY: dazai does not nap. he hardly sleeps in general. so how is it that he's dozing off in your lap like this? you're a witch, he's decided. there's no other logical explanation. (wordcount: 800ish; sfw; fem!reader, mentions of alcohol & sleeping pills)

AUTHOR'S NOTES: very short & sweet but i toldddd you guys that i had a dazai nap time drabble in the works. i love my naps, so that means i obviously have to do nap time with all of the favs. perhaps i'll do jouno next. or maybe there's someone u guys want.

Dazai doesn’t sleep well. He never has, and he’s certain he never will. The only time he can manage to get some semblance of sleep is when he’s taken a few too many sleeping pills or he’s drank himself to oblivion. It’s unfortunate, but it’s a fact of life, and he thinks that he’d prefer to stay sleepless anyway if it means he can avoid the memories that plague his dreams.

Dazai can simply not remember when the last time he willingly slept was, which is why he’s so confused now, head resting in your lap, eyes heavy as he looks up at you. He can hardly hold them open, he can feel himself falling asleep and he’s alarmed because he does not sleep unless his body is drugged, drunk or dying.

“What kind of spell have you placed on me, bella?” Dazai says through a yawn—he yawned???

“What do you mean?” you ask quietly, fingers still carding gently through his hair as you look down at him, brows furrowed. 

He wants to reach up and rub out the wrinkle between your eyebrows but his arm feels too heavy. A part of him wonders if he’s dying, but he supposes if this is how he’s meant to go out—laying in your lap with your fingers brushing through his hair, staring up at your pretty face beneath the afternoon sun—then he couldn’t ask for a better death.

“‘m falling asleep,” he murmurs, and his voice slurs a bit over the words. His eyes feel even heavier, drooping shut as he tilts his head to the side to make himself comfortable on your lap. 

You giggle lightly, and Dazai swears the sound is angelic. “‘cause you’re so sleepy, obviously,” you say, a teasing lilt to your tone as you bring your freehand to his face to trace his cheekbone.

“I don’t sleep,” he protests weakly, leaning into your touch. 

He thinks that before he met you, he might not have ever experienced a gentle touch in his entire life, and now he simply cannot go without them. He craves them at every waking moment and gets severely distressed when he cannot obtain them. But only if they’re from you—the thought of anyone else touching him the way you do makes his skin crawl. Your touches make him feel vulnerable in a way that’s dangerous, and you’re the only person he trusts enough to see him that way.

“Everyone sleeps, silly,” you disagree softly, and Dazai wants to protest, to tell you how significant this is, but he can’t find the words. His mind feels muddled and hazy as exhaustion creeps through his bones and claws at his chest.

He supposes he doesn’t really need to tell you anyway, you probably already know—you always know somehow. You can always figure out when he’s having one of his bad days, no matter how hard he tries to hide it from everyone. You can always tell when he needs a break from everything, even when he tries to mask it with smiles and jokes. You can always tell when he’s sick of playing the role of a clown to make people overlook all of his faults and darkness, and you’re always there to be an escape for him. 

It used to be scary—he’s never had someone that could pick through all of his masks to see through his emotional state, his real one. A part of him wonders if it’s somehow a secret part of your ability but he knows it’s a ridiculous thought, because there’s no explanation for how you can do it whenever he’s laid up in your arms or draped all over you, which is 99% of the time he’s with you.

It used to be scary (emphasis on the past tense) but now, he thinks it might be a bit comforting to know that you’re always there and you know what he needs even when he himself doesn’t know. You’re like a buoy in the middle of a raging sea, a lighthouse shining through the dark. he hasn’t had someone he could genuinely rely on in… a long time, and even then…

Dazai lets out a puff of air, eyes finally sliding shut as he all but melts into you with your hand cupping the side of his face and your thumb caressing his cheek and your nails gently scraping his scalp. He thinks he might be in heaven—he doesn’t know what he’s done to deserve it, to deserve you, but he’s a selfish bastard at heart and he’ll be damned if he ever lets you go. 

The last thing he feels is your lips ghosting his temple before he finally dozes off. He sleeps peacefully for the first time he can remember. 

[thrillered]

hiii. could u pls write something where spencer and cast member f!reader have been secretly dating for a while, and then decided to randomly soft launch their relationship, maybe one of them decided to include a picture of them cuddling on a random photo dump, i hope this makes sense lol

The Hard Launch | Spencer Agnew x Reader

I hope you like it!!!!

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Your dreams came true one night after a long shoot week when you and Spencer decided to have a movie night and out of nowhere Spencer confessed his feelings, he claimed he would die if he didn’t tell you. 

That was over three years ago and since then you and Spencer have been nothing but in love. The only caveat was that the fans didn’t know. For a while this was okay, preferred even. It meant you got to keep your life private and keep Spencer to yourself. You both had even agreed to not say anything deciding it would be easier to deal with anything on the off chance that something happens between you two. 

But here you are, 3 years and 8 wonderful months under your belt. You were madly in love, falling for Spencer even more everyday. The only issue was that you couldn't be together in public. Of course you could go out and do stuff or get food but you couldn’t just hold his hand or kiss his cheek whenever you wanted to. Your frustration at this is what led you to this moment. 

“Hey Spence,” You began, turning away from the pan of vegetables you were seasoning. 

“Yeah babe?” He responded, looking up from his phone. 

“Can we talk?” You asked.

“Well that doesn’t sound good.” He remarked, hearing the serious tone in your voice.

“It’s nothing bad… I’ve just been thinking a lot lately.” 

“I told you that wasn’t a good idea.” Spencer joked.

You couldn’t help but giggle, “Yeah whatever. I’m serious though. I’ve been thinking and I love you so much. I love you so much that I want the whole world to know.” 

“O-Okay?” Spencer asked, confused. “Are you saying you want to go public?” 

“That’s exactly what I’m saying. It doesn't have to be a big thing but I’d like to be your girlfriend everywhere, not just in private.” 

Spencer thought for a moment. It would be nice to not be walking on eggshells anymore, and clearly this was important to you so he agreed. 

“Wait really?” You asked, smiling ear to ear. He grabbed your hand, giving it a small, reassuring squeeze. 

“I think it’s long past due, I should have let the world know ages ago that I have the most wonderful… beautiful… intelligent… hilarious girlfriend in the universe.” He professed, punctuating each compliment with a kiss up your arm. 

“I love you Spence.” 

“I love you more Y/N.”

—

Later that night you sat down with Spencer to choose what photos to use. You had decided to soft launch for now, leave a little mystery to keep the fans on their toes. You wanted to post a photo dump and sneak maybe two Spencer-centric pictures in it. 

When you found the perfect lineup of pictures you posted. 

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yourusername

liked by spennser, filmingamanda, and 14,867 others

yourusername: Photo dump!! love y'all! 👯‍♀️

view all comments

angelagiovanagiarratana: I love you. come over soon.

⏐yourusername: Make some ziti and ill be there

smoshmouthforever: SPENCER MENTION 👀

urwife: More Y/N on games pleaseeeee

April 9th

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And so marked the beginning of this little game. Every week or so you or Spencer would post something, usually on your instagram story, featuring the other. They started off more tame, as things that can be passed as friendship. Slowly over the course of a few months you ramped it up. 

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yourusername

liked by spennser, erindougal, and 16,233 others

yourusername: Exciting things coming up 🤫

view all comments

spennser: my knife skills are top tier

⏐yourusername: uhhhh yeah! 🤥

tommybowe: okay fit

⤷ liked by yourusername

Courtmangela: THEY COOK TOGETHER????

⏐marrymearasha: sounds romantic to me... 👀👀

July 31st

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spennser

liked by yourusername, alextran, and 15,871 others

spennser: that's my favorite

view all comments

yourusername: u talking about me or alex??? 🤨

⏐alextran: obvi he's talking about me

⏐spennser: as ye said: "I guess we'll never know"

imnormaliswear: that's such a good pic of Y/N

⤷ liked by spennser

arashalelani: Y/N if you aren't Spencers fav you can be mine!!

⏐spennser: okay back off

August 4th

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A month into this you and Spencer decided to make an official post on August 11th for your 4 year anniversary, allowing all of the previous posts to be build up. You guys didn’t necessarily hide things when out in public, allowing yourselves the small moments of affection wherever you may be. You felt much more free and also felt even more in love. 

There were comments on every post suspecting you two. Things even moved into youtube. You and Spencer were often in videos together or he was around during filming and people started to pick on more. 

There had always been a large number of fans who thought you two should be together. There were hundreds of ship edits online and following the Shourtney marriage the fanbase decided that you and Spencer were next. 

This made things even more fun. People were conspiring about each and every post. There was “Why Spencer and Y/N are dating AND have been for a while. A thread:” on twitter, and slideshows on tiktok. You had to admit it was kinda impressive, and maybe a little scary. 

---

The day finally came. It was August 11th. You and Spencer were officially going public. You had spent the morning together, enjoying each other and the final moments of peace. 

You both had to be at the office today but you didn’t mind. It meant you got to spend some time around your favorite people, and the support they’ve shown about the hard launch was reassuring. You and Spencer had scheduled your posts to go up at 1 pm. It was 12:55 and you were shaking with excitement. Spencer was sat next to you, his arm hanging around your shoulders, your phones sitting on the table in front of you. 

“We’re doing this.” You said, swiveling in your chair to face him. 

“We are.” Spencer smiled, placing two fingers under your chin to pull you into a chaste kiss.

Distracted by Spencer you didn’t notice Kiana and Emily placing a cake in front of the two of you. You and Spencer turned your heads to read “Smosh Hard Launch #2” in blue icing across a small round cake. You and Spencer couldn’t help but laugh, he pulled you into his side, seeing there was less than a minute until the posts went live. 

“15! 14! 13!,” Kiana began to count down, a wide smile on her face. Everyone was together for lunch and the rest of the cast and crew joined in. “12! 11! 10! 9! 8! 7! 6!” 

You and Spencer looked at each other, beaming from ear to ear, “5! 4! 3! 2! 1!” you both joined in. 

A chorus of “Happy hard launch!!”s rang through the space. It was done, there was nothing you could do now. The world now knew that you and Spencer were dating. ——————————————————————————————————

yourusername

liked by smosh, spennser, shaynetopp, and 24,087 others

yourusername: chat... is this a hard launch??? Happy 4 YEARS!! I love you more than anything Spence <33

view all comments

smosh: all of our couples are so iconic

⤷liked by yourusername

Spennser: hey I know that guy

⏐yourusername: he's pretty cute, think you can hook us up??

smoshluvr: HOLY SHIT WHAT???

shaynetopp: A second hard launch has hit the smosh cast

⏐Spennser: nice dude 😎

y/nswife: first April 1st... now august 11th... no date is safe...

August 11th

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spennser

liked by yourusername, filmingamanda, and 22,107 others

spennser: Happy 4 years my love. and people said I had no rizz

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yourusername: never say rizz again pls ! 😃

⏐spennser: you're so right babe, I'm sorry, I will never say it again.

alextran: Spencer has rizz? fake news.

angelagiovanagiarratana: idk how she's dealt with you for so long. congrats you two.

⤷liked by spennser

smoshclips: ive been saying this for years and I was called crazy...

⏐Ianslefttoe: Spencer x Y/N truthers unite

⏐katchempoppy: Can't believe I gaslit myself into thinking they were just friends.

August 11th

——————————————————————————————————

And so the world knew. You felt free, like a weight was off your shoulders. The entire office congratulated you. You kissed Spencer over and over again, elated for the world to know you were Spencers and he was yours.

[ladylokilaufeyson5]

Where The Shadows Dance - The Proposition (i)

Bodyguard!Azriel x AutumnDaughter!Reader

CHAPTER I: The Proposition

SUMMARY: Beron has invited the High Lord and Lady of the Night Court to spend a week in the Autumn Court. Azriel and the rest of the Court of Dream believe he has ulterior motives, and they are correct - but these motives come as a surprise.

WARNINGS: Um. Misogyny. love that for us (i hate the autumn court). swearing (the f-word (as in fuck)), y/n has daddy issues (bc beron is a cunt) and uh... i haven't read acotar in ages so apologies for any OC characteristics and forgetting everything about the autumn court. but i did read HOFAS recently so hopefully az isn't too out of character. also tw: beron

NOTE: so obviously Y/n is the daughter of the autumn court. we know they have red hair BUT i want this to be as less oc as possible so y/n has your colour hair and u can make up ur own story about why but mine is that she's 'rebellious' (as you'll see later on) and just dyes her hair. also special thank you to my moots @icey--stars and @fieldofdaisiies for proofreading my work! i love you guys<3

WORDS: 2.7K

Azriel glowered at the male sat across from him. Eris either didn't notice or pretended he didn't care as he reclined in his chair, one arm over the back and looking for all the world he was in his own home, rather than the Court Of Nightmares.

"Eris," Rhys drawled, "if you have any information to help us with this meeting with your father, we would appreciate it immensely."

The High Lord of the Autumn Court had invited the High Lord and High Lady of the Night Court to his castle for a week, as a gesture of good will, and an attempt to strengthen their bonds. Of course, the court was suspicious of the intent behind such actions. Although Azriel had sent his contacts in to find any sliver of information, his spies had come back empty-handed.

Eris rolled his shoulders, seemingly at ease despite being surrounded by the Night Court's most deadly warriors. "I am not entirely sure what he wants, but I assume it has something to do with my sister, Y/n."

Y/n, the only daughter of the High Lord of Autumn. She was quite young, by Fae standards – only seventy-nine. She had not fought in the war against Hybern, and had very little training according to Azriel's knowledge.

"Why her?" Feyre asked carefully.

Azriel heard the shift in her tone. She was wondering, as they all were, what Beron intended to do with her. The Autumn Court was just as backwards as the Court Of Nightmares, and females were considered little more than property. 

Eris simply shrugged, either not hearing the implications in the High Lady's tone, or simply not caring. "That is all I know, I'm afraid."

Cassian grunted, his eyes still on the heir to the Autumn throne. No one was particularly happy about the bargain they had struck with him, but he seemed to be a willing ally. For now.

"What can you tell us about her?" Feyre inquired.

Eris watched her for a moment, before responding, "She is… wild. Untamed, and unpredictable."

Despite his words, Azriel sensed a flicker of admiration in his tone. Azriel stored that piece of information away. It could be a weakness of Eris's, his sister. They may need to exploit it one day.

"Sounds like my kind of lady," Mor grinned.

The fact that Mor bothered speak in Eris's presence was a gift that the heir did not appreciate enough. Azriel glanced sidelong at her, noticing the way her unbound golden hair cascaded down her back, and the amount of skin her low-cut red dress revealed. Once, looking at her like that would have sent Azriel mad with longing. But after she had confided in him, after she had revealed she could never love him back because she preferred females��� some part of him had been relieved to let her go.

Eris scoffed at Mor's comment. "Yes, well, she irritates my father to no end."

There was a silence, and Azriel wondered whether Y/n annoyed Eris as well, before Rhys sighed, "Well, if that's all, Eris, I'm sure you have places to be."

The dismissal was clear in the High Lord's tone, and Eris rose from his chair with a nod before leaving the council room. Everyone was silent as the male left, all eyeing each other. Feyre and Rhys were looking at each other, a clear indication of their telepathic conversation, and Azriel watched the two with a hint of jealousy. Of course he was happy from them – finding one's mate was one of the most fulfilling things one could experience. But he couldn't help but feel a sense of longing for his own. It seemed he was the last of the court to find his mate, and he had a fear that he would never find them.

"Has anyone heard much about this Princess?" Cassian asked, looking towards Azriel.

Azriel shook his head. "She is one of the most guarded individuals in Prythian. My sources struggle to even see her."

"Very guarded indeed," Rhysand murmured.

The Court of Dreams debated between themselves the possibilities of what the High Lord of Autumn could want regarding his daughter. Azriel had a few of his own suspicions – to have her taken away, or perhaps trained in combat – but none of them seemed accurate. 

After a while of debating plausible explanations for Beron's offer, the court decided to head home to the City of Starlight in order to get a good night's rest before their meeting tomorrow. The High Lord and High Lady were going, as well as Cassian and Azriel. Morrigan was not permitted in the Autumn Court, so she would stay behind with Nesta to hold down the fort while they were gone. Amren would also be travelling to the Autumn Court, and although the monster she was no longer crawled beneath her skin, she made most people wary.

As he lay in his bed, Azriel couldn't help but wonder what awaited him tomorrow. He was curious about what the Autumn High Lord wanted, especially regarding his daughter, although he was also wary. Although Autumn had helped them in the war, they couldn't be trusted. Azriel fell into an uneasy sleep, cautious of the days to come.

Azriel awoke at dawn the next day. They weren't due in the Autumn Court until the evening, so Azriel decided to go through his morning exercises. The Valkyries weren't up yet, so he went through his warm ups, taking his shirt off halfway through. The morning was uneventful, and Azriel ran over the information they had in his head. Eris had suggested that Beron may be seeking a favour of some sort, so perhaps it had something to do with that.

The day passed by quickly, and soon enough, those travelling to the Autumn Court had gathered in the living room of the River House, just as they had planned. Azriel and Cassian wore their scaled, black armour, while Rhys and Feyre wore their finery. Rhysand held his mate's arm, and Azriel grabbed onto Cassian, before winnowing to the entrance of the Autumn Court castle.

It was big, and made of stone. It was quite majestic, if Azriel was being honest – high towers and red and orange flags waving in the wind, large windows showcasing rich carpets and tapestries inside.

Rhys led the way, Feyre on his arm and Cassian and Azriel following closely, and Amren trailing behind. Guards monitored them as they passed through the halls, their armour heavier the closer they got to the throne room. Azriel marked each one as they passed, something he was sure Cassian and Rhysand were also doing.

The doors to the throne room opened, and revealed the High Lord of the Autumn Court sat atop a dais, the Lady of Autumn seated beside him. Beron's sons stood on his left, and his daughter was seated to her mother's right.

Azriel paused at the sight of her. She was beautiful, even by Fae standards. Her h/c hair shone in the Fae light liming the walls, piled neatly on her head in a braid crown. Y/n’s e/c eyes sparked with mischief and curiosity, skimming over the members of Azriel's Court, until they finally landed on him. Her gaze was mesmerising, and Azriel couldn't find it in himself to break it. A small smirk played at the corners of her mouth, as if she were aware of the effect she had on him, although Azriel's mask of icy cold had not budged even an inch. Azriel quickly tore his eyes away from the Daughter of Autumn, marking the guards posted by the doors and the dais, and counting the weapons each of Beron's sons carried. 

"Beron," Rhysand purred, ever the arrogant High Lord, the mask back up despite the High Lords' meeting all those months ago. "So lovely to see you again. Thank you for inviting us to stay."

Beron rose from his dias and stalked towards the High Lord of the Night Court. Everyone tensed as he stepped closer and closer, and Azriel subtly reached for the dagger at his side. Beron's blood would spray across the marble floors the second Azriel suspected he would harm his High Lord or Lady. But Beron simply held his hand out, and Rhys gripped it tightly, his eyes holding a small amount of surprise.

"Rhysand. A pleasure to have you here," Beron replied. Azriel didn't miss the slight strain in his voice. "You must be hungry. Shall we?"

Beron inclined his head to the dining room and led the way with Rhysand and Feyre at his side. He hadn't even acknowledged the High Lady, something that made Azriel want to rip the male’s head off, but Rhys got there first.

“And what about my High Lady?” Rhys purred, a dangerous edge to his voice.

Beron’s smile faltered slightly, and he glanced at Feyre with a barely concealed look of distaste, as if he would rather rip off his own toenails than address a female with the same amount of respect that he would expect. Azriel felt a protective anger surge through him, and he watched carefully, curious as to what the High Lord’s next move would be.

“Of course,” Beron said, his voice dripping with fake courtesy. “My apologies, Lady Feyre. Of course it is wonderful to have you both visit.”

Cassian gave Azriel a look that said, And-what-about-us? Aren't-we-wonderful?

Azriel sent him a look back that said, Shut-the-fuck-up.

Beron led them all to the dining room, the Autumn colours present everywhere they looked. The chairs were all high-backed, and Azriel knew that Beron did not care if he and Cassian would be comfortable with their wings. Everyone took their seats — Beron at the head, Rhysand to his left, and Feyre beside him. Azriel sat next to his High Lady, Cassian taking his seat adjacent to the shadowsinger. The Lady of Autumn (still not a High Lady, despite the fact that Viviane was also now a High Lady) sat to Beron’s right, Eris beside her, and Y/n next to him, and across from Azriel. Azriel felt Y/n’s eyes on him, and he met her gaze. There was a curious look in her eyes, a look of anticipation mixed with mischief.

Dinner was served, an array of meats and vegetables placed on the table by servants, mostly lesser fairies. None of them looked Azriel in the eye, and he wondered if it was because they knew who and what he was, or if they’d been trained not to. Y/n, however, had no such qualms about this, and stared at the shadowsinger unabashedly.

Beron struck up a conversation with Rhys — small talk, something that Azriel internally cringed at, because it was definitely just to fill the silence. Ever the gracious guest, Rhysand responded in kind, although Azriel knew he was wondering what Beron’s ulterior motives were.

“How do your siphons work?”

The table went silent as Y/n spoke, her cunning eyes trained on Azriel. Beron looked at his daughter with a hint of irritation gleaming in his eyes, as if it was unacceptable for her to speak without permission. Azriel glanced at Rhysand, who was watching the daughter of Autumn with a hint of suspicion in his eyes.

“How do you know that is what they are called?” Rhys asked, his eyes trained on the only daughter of Autumn.

She shrugged, and answered, “I read a lot in my spare time. I remember reading about the Illyrians, and their siphons. If I remember correctly, Illyrians tend to possess only one, yet the two of you hold several.”

“There is no need to question our guests, Y/n,” Beron scolded firmly.

Y/n frowned. “I was simply curious.”

“Do not speak back to me,” Beron reprimanded, a burning fury now evident in his eyes.

Y/n slumped back into her chair slightly and bowed her head. “My apologies, Father.”

Beron didn’t even acknowledge his daughter before he turned back to Rhys, as if her mere existence didn’t deserve another moment of his time. Azriel watched the female in front of him as she stared at her plate, and felt a sense of sympathy for her. Azriel owed her nothing — he did not know the female in front of him, did not know if she even deserved his sympathy — and yet he felt the need to protect, to wipe that blank expression off of her face.

“Our siphons act as a conduit for our raw power,” Azriel offered, causing Y/n to look up. Beron paused, glancing at the shadowsinger and the Autumn daughter, and Azriel continued, “It helps to control our magic, to make it precise and nimble, rather than a messy outburst of power.”

Cassian gaped at his brother, as if he had never heard that many words come out of Azriel’s mouth in one sitting. While that was an inaccurate statement, it was true that Azriel never tended to speak in front of new people. He wasn’t sure why he had done so anyway. But Y/n bowed her head in thanks at the information, perhaps still wary of answering and speaking without her father’s permission, but Azriel had observed a small, triumphant light in the female’s eyes at his reply.

Azriel watched as that gleam faded when Beron cleared his throat, gaining the attention from everyone in the room.

“There is a reason why I have asked you here,” Beron stated.

“Surprise, surprise,” Cassian muttered, and Azriel elbowed him.

Beron glanced at Cassian for all of a second before continuing, “There has been an attempt on my daughter’s life.” Stunned silence met Beron’s words, and Azriel caught Y/n rolling her eyes. That raised his suspicion — were Beron’s words false, or did she simply believe it was not an issue? “If it appeals to you,” Beron went on, “I seek to employ one of your Night Court warriors as her personal bodyguard.”

Rhys blinked once, his only sign of surprise. Beron looked at Rhys expectantly, and Azriel could have guessed the thoughts that flew around Rhys’s head.

“Why one of my warriors?” Rhys inquired carefully.

“I hoped it might help strengthen bonds between our courts,” Beron expressed.

Azriel watched the High Lord of the Autumn Court carefully. There seemed to be no ulterior motives hidden within his demeanour — he did not shift nervously, none of his facial features even so much as twitched.

“And say I agree to this,” Rhys said casually, “how long would you hold onto one of my warriors?”

“Until the threat against my daughter’s life is eliminated,” Beron answered.

There was silence for a few moments while everyone processed what was happening. Azriel looked at Eris to see the male’s eyes on his father. They were carefully guarded, a mask in place to ensure no one was able to discern what he was thinking. Azriel turned his gaze to Y/n, and a shadow slithered up by his ear.

She does not believe it to be such a serious matter, the shadow whispered. She wishes for this dinner to be over so she may go back to her quarters and finish her novel.

Azriel blinked in surprise at the information from his shadow. Usually, his shadows would tell him what others could not see and hear — but this felt almost like too much. Yes, his shadows had a tendency to recognise when someone was lying, or what weapons they were concealing, but to give him a person’s unvoiced opinion on a matter was something new.

But indeed, with her chin propped up on her delicate hand, and twirling her dessert fork in the other, she appeared to be completely disinterested. Azriel turned his gaze back to the male beside her, to see Eris already watching his sister. His eyes were cold and calculating as he regarded her, as if he was mentally playing out how this ‘bodyguard’ situation would go. With the slight frown tugging the corners of his lips downwards, Azriel assumed Eris did not believe it would end well.

“Please, do take time to come to a decision,” Beron offered. “I do understand this is a lot to ask.”

“We shall have an answer by the end of the week,” Rhys said with a nod.

Beron nodded back, and Azriel wondered what they were getting themselves into.

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[tastesousweet]

⭒ blurb : the fever

bf!hamzah x poc!reader

summary : blurb based on this request!!!! or hamzah takes care of reader while she's sick

mickey speaks : i hope u enjoyyyy, more of my hamzah works can be found here <3 also i’m updating my tag list so pls lmk if you’d liked to be tagged in any fics in the future

─────────── · · ୨୧ · · ───────────

there's no worse way to start your morning than in a pool of your own sweat and reading a thermometer displaying 101.2°F.

without any strength to attempt to leave your bed and no appetite to drive you to perseverance, you're left slumped lazily against your hot pillow.

just as your blinks begin to slow and your eyes droop low, an irritating sequence of vibrations beam from your phone. you pinch your eyes and let out a slightly dramatic but definitely necessary whine that turns into a groan as you stretch your arms far above your head.

you take your time, hoping whoever is waiting on the other line takes the hint by the forth ring that you’re busy drowning in your misery. you open your eyes just a peek before the ringing completely stops.

a relieved sigh comes over you as you lift your plush comforter over your head in hopes of reducing any natural light your windows allow to shine into your cluttered room.

it rings once more.

“fuck!” you let a blip of rage slip out in a seething tone, kicking your feet against your mattress harshly (an immature way of expressing yourself which makes you feel fifteen again; annoyed by your old obnoxious alarm clock).

you pull the oversized covers from your face and lean over to fiddle and grab your phone from its charging dock on your jagged, wooden night stand.

your tight expression is slightly shattered when you see the large text and tiny image in the corner of the facetime call displaying your boyfriend’s name and face.

you swipe to answer, falling back onto your pillow and covering your torso with the comforter once more (after having stripped of any clothing throughout the sleepless night).

your pouty face goes to the corner of the call as hamzah displays largely across your screen. he’s set his phone on top of his dashboard, still focused on actively driving when you answer.

“heyy, whatcha’ doing? haven’t responded to my texts at all, i was gettin’ worried..” his tongue plays with the gum in his mouth, popping multiple tiny bubbles at once.

your voice gives an unexpected voice crack, “i’m doing terrible,” hamzah’s a bit thrown off by your response but you don’t acknowledge his facial expression, instead you rub your eyes, “where are you going?”

“what happened?!” he arrives at a red light and looks at you while he’s stopped, “did you not sleep well? i was on my way to get you- thought we were playin’ pickleball today with martin and mandy.”

“eughhhh, i totally forgot about that- i’ll have to text and tell them i can’t anymore i’m like dyinggg, h. my temperature’s over 100.” you sniffle and groan.

“nah, don’t worry about that i’ll tell ‘em we can’t make it. you just stay put and i’ll be over in like- just a sec, okay?” he keeps glancing over to look at you which you appreciate, though you prefer for him to pay attention- but you don’t necessarily feel like getting into a back in forth with him over his driving habits right now.

“m’kayyyy you’re the best, love you.” you thank him gently, blowing a kiss towards the camera.

“mmm i like hearing that. you’re my favorite.” he smiles to himself, “yeah, um, i’ll see you in a bit- maybe try and get some sleep though, girl?”

“i’ll try,” you whisper.

“okay, be right there, love you.”

✧₊⁺

you’re not sure how long hamzah’s been at your side when you eventually wake up again to him sat next to you, looking through one of your many 2000s magazines.

you tap his knee silently, seemingly in a better mood after some well needed rest and the comfort of waking up in hamzah’s presence.

he displays a faux since of shock, “wow and she’s somehow even prettier when awake!”

you smile and slip your hand under your cheek as you lay and look at him, “hi, when’d you get here?”

he places your magazine down next to him, "got here maybe two hours ago? i stopped by a store and grabbed you some medicine to take and some other essentials like kitkats and iced tea- did you know hilary duff and lindsay lohan had hella back and forth beef??"

you nod, "duh, of course i do! and getting me snacks wowwww you're so perfect, huh?"

hamzah playfully shrugs his arms up and down, "a little somethin' like thattt, just for you."

you laugh but begin to cough uncontrollably, to which hamzah screws his face up in faux disgust; you stare, "thanks."

“nahh i’m playing,” he grabs one of your hands and kisses the back of it, “do you need me to do anything?”

“can you come brush my teeth with me?”

he nods immediately, standing up and picking your body (wrapped delicately in your covers) up and carrying you bridal-style into the bathroom down your skinny hallway.

on the way there you laugh again which leads to another coughing fit which you cover as much as you possibly can. hamzah teasingly stretches you away from him whining out an “eeuuuhhhh!!!” but you are quick to give him a glare that has him giggling and apologizing by curling you back into his broad chest smacking a few million kisses onto your cheek.

you push his face away in warning, “stop it you’re gonna get sick, stupid!!!!”

✧₊⁺

hamzah stands between your legs as you sit on the counter and brush your teeth. he thinks you look like an angel- or maybe a tooth fairy with the suds elegantly surrounding your mouth. despite your runny nose, hot, clammy skin and sleepy eyes, the white comforter manages to compliment your complexion in the most beautiful of ways. the sight in front of him was weirdly so angelic… “so pretty…” he lets his thoughts trickle into the air.

you pause your movements and look up at him starting to grin before scooting to the side and spitting into the sink. he grins and decides to joke with you a bit, scratching the back of his neck and blowing a raspberry into the air next to him, “did i say pretty?? i meant so ….sickly??” he squints his eyes a little trying to figure out where exactly he’s going with this, “because you’ve come down with something…. bad.”

you roll your eyes and shake your head, “it sounds like you want to call me beautiful…” you bat your eyelashes as you quote him through a mouthful of toothpaste and an insane urge to laugh.

hamzah laughs for you and wipes his eyes exclaiming, “enough! let’s wrap this up.”

✧₊⁺

hamzah made you take medicine and eat top ramen with him before you lay back down in bed. now you're lying up against your headboard watching reruns of sabrina the teenage witch with blankets curled up to your chin.

when hamzah finally comes back into your room he knocks twice before stepping into the space; he’s adorned with an arrangement of white tiger lilies in his hand and a small smile on his face.

you’re absolutely shocked, “what the fuck??? h, when’s you have time to get those?!” you prop yourself up and he hands them to you.

“i saw a little shop that was closing up when i was on my way back to my place just now; it’s cute you’d like it,” he moves to lay next to you.

“thank you,” you look at him lovingly, “for everything today; you treat me so well. how were the kitties doin’?”

“mhmm, they’re fine missin’ you though.” hamzah feels a since of pride from your words, taking the flowers from your hand and setting them on your nightstand (next to a roll of toilet paper you’ve used for your runny nose and a few empty water bottles). he turns back to you and brings his hand up to hold your face, “you’re so easy to treat well.” he leans closer to your face and your eyes shift down to his lips before you’re pulling away.

you playfully scoff and shake your head no, “nuh uh, i’m not getting you sick!”

“baby i’ve been around you all day and feel fine!! my immune system is the best there is, ‘promise.” he traces your lips with his thumb gently.

“you’re sooo…” you mumble the scold, turn on your side to move away from him.

he leans over you giggling, “amazing?” he kisses your cheek. “perfect?” another closer to your lips, “you’ve said them all before!” he sets a sweet kiss to your pouty lips before retreating back lie against the pillow next to you.

“i was gonna say needy but those work as well…” you grumble and smile to your self, “hold me?” you ask a bit louder, peeking over your shoulder to see hamzah drop his phone and immediately give you the attention you want from him, nuzzling you close and kissing your neck softly.

✧₊⁺

a few weeks later via Out of Character on YouTube

martin: yeah, and you’ve been freaking sick the past week and a half! how was that?

hamzah: very whimsical and magical. i’m kidding obviously it sucks and y/n was actually the one to give it to me! i’m not blaming but i am.

martin: i think that’s the worst part about having a girlfriend like if she’s sick you’re gonna get sick too- mandy’s like a freaking warrior though she’s never sick. it’s actually really odd.

hamzah: it’s because she’s a nurse, i think

martin: actually dude?

hamzah: yeah i read about it (he’s lying)

[crushsblogstories]

Touchy Feely

How touchy I think some One Piece men are

WARNING(S)!

None of these are my characters!

Suggestive SEXUAL themes! MINORS DNI!

Swearing!

MINORS DNI!

Pronouns! Not specified

Time! Not specified

Touching! Is a given cause of the title..

NOT PROOF READ

What the frick guys... In my OP last os/hc I could make Sanji's name yellow. Now I can't ˙◠˙ I usually don't use 'y/n' but I did like maybe 3 times?

Luffy

I feel like he'd be superrr touchy but in the proximity way both decently and indecently

He is completely wrapped around you during cuddles and if you're a big spooner you're facing eachother cause he NEEDS to have his arms around you.

If he's horny his arms mayyy or may not extend to fondle or 'tickle' some places in a circular motion

Kisses you all over.

One time you were upset and absolutely would. Not. talk to him so he was full on on his knees with a singular tear

"Pleaseeeeee! Talk to meeeeee! I'm sorryyyyy!"

You wouldn't let him kiss you earlier that morning so instead he grabbed your hand and started kissing up your arm, up and back down your neck, and you stopped him when he tried going to your chest because you were openly on deck

PDA wise he has no boundaries, knowledge, or care of what should or should not be done or said outside of just you and him.

Still kisses you all over, gets wayyyy to touchy and fondles a bit too much sometimes even a hand down ur pants or up ur shirt What? His hands r cold

Will absolutely tell you if he's in the mood.

"I want to have sex." "What.." "I WANT TO HAVE SEX" for the island's whole market to hear

Woohoo wise he doesn't care. Touch, no touch, doesn't matter as long as you or he is getting it good. Will keep going until both of u actually CAN NOT MOVE and we all know he's energetic

Zoro

I feel like he'll hold your waist, stand directly behind u, rest his head on you, and so on.

He's the type to prefer you to hold his wrist or arm instead of holding hands but if you ask or prefer holding hands he'd 100% be open.

PDA wise go back to the first sentance. He believes anything he does to show how much he adores and appreciates you shouldn't stop just because of location or people.

That goes to say, he's also not as bad as Sanji. If he gets jealous? He will ABSOLUTELY say something sexuall, not sensual, something completly lewd and act on it later. If he's REALLY jealous he'll do it right then and there

(Some guy's flirting with you and Zoro, who walked away for like 2 seconds, overheard) "Can I just say, I travel a lot, I've been across the world, and I've never seen anyone as captivating as you. I'm glad I layed eyes on y-"

"They had one room left, we're lucky. Ready to go?" Let's be fr.. It wasn't really a question..

He completely ignored the guy's presence and went straight to you, playing with the hem of your pants/skirt. When the guy just stands there in shock he reahes his hands way to low.

Boinking wise he'll hold your hands over your head, grip your thighs when eating u out, just holds whatever is closest for that position.

Sometimes he'll grab your face when you kiss even if one of his hands are preoccupied (legit hovering over you.. GET THOSE GAINS)

Sanji

I feel like it takes the whole of him not to touch you sensually in public but he also doesn't like to do it often in case you take it as objectifying or he only likes you for your body/looks.

If you have a conversation about it he'd start after it but if not he'd slowlyyyy introduce it over like 2 years

His head is in your neck during all hugs kisses may be included

Secluded hugs might have his head in your chest, sometimes even eating you out/sucking your cock

PDA wise he usually has a hand on your hip, is holding you hand or interlocking pinkies, and will be down for you sitting on his lap.

The first few times u sat there you felt a surprise.

Anything private doesn't really change in public, he'll tone down what he really means or wants to do though

"I want to slurp everything you have/suck you dry then pound you so good all you can say is my name." {Translates to} *1 Neck kiss, *agreeance to whatever you said, *starting to rub inner thigh

Boinking wise it's all about you. If you like being touched best believe he's all over you. If you don't or it's to an extent he'd probably get turned on at the loss of contact but best believe you two are cuddling for and hour after the clean up.

He likes to worship your body like your a god(dess) so he's touching everywhere and fucking every hole that your comfortable with ofc

Again, if your not SUPERRR big on touching during sex he's kissing, sucking, and eating any and everything he can.

Usopp

I feel like he likes light touch and proximity in a lowkey wholesome way

He would absolutly melt at even the thought, mention, or ask of holding hands - In later seasons he would warm up to it

One time he held your hand up in celebration and forgot to let go. When he realized he was red asf

He would be the hugging cuddling type but like I said, when he gets more comfortable with it he'd probably just let his hands roam your body, just liking the contact, even in his sleep.

"Y/nnn" It was a sleepy moan, one hand roaming up and another down.

PDA wise he'd hold hands and interlock pinkies, sit next to you to touch knees or thighs and might play footsies if he can't

Woohoo wise? He likes to see you but gets embarassed if you see the faces he makes.

He'll hide his face in your neck or chest kissing it as he does for as long as he can before he absolutely needs to see you

He absolutely CANNOT do bondage he NEEDS to feel your skin on his other than being inside you (Or u inside him ʅ(o-<)ʃ *wink)

When I say absolutely cannot I mean his pp would go floppy if it wasn't you

But it be pretty hard for him to cum if that's a thing you're into

..

Get it? Pretty hard?

Anyways.. He'd still be down

A/N - IM WORKING ON THE LAST CAMPING TRIP I PROMISE PLSPLS

I'll try to get it out next week

[wuwapetal1s]

write anything abt geshu lin or calcharo im begging on my hands and knees ill give u my first born or a kidney whichever u want

I don't need any organs can I have a pair of knees maybe (ty for the request anon :3)

Love languages

content: sfw, rambling-ish format, not entirely proofread (it's midnight currently), swearing used, etc.

reqs open!

— Calcharo.

Calcharo is an ‘acts of service man’ through and through. To me, he doesn't seem the best at giving affection verbally though he thinks he's *very* good at it personally. As in, you will ask him for comfort or reassurance and he'll give it to you readily… But it will sound so stern coming from him.

“I feel uncomfortable with [such and such]..”

“I understand. I will rectify/fix that.”

Communication KING, though I imagine it can still feel very intimidating to bring stuff up to him. It will always be met with understanding, and he certainly would try his hardest to accommodate what language/tone you'd rather hear in those moments (autistic.)

Getting back to the original point, he will do just about anything for you. There's hardly any limits or rules to that fact. He will kill for you, he will fight for you, he will get in trouble with the law for you, etc etc. He'll also grab extra of your snacks the moment he's back in town and stops at the market before he goes to visit you.

Tired from a long day at work or studying? He'll clean up as quietly as he can while you sleep. You'll wake up to all the dishes done and your living space looks pretty much spotless.

He's the kind of man to learn how you organize things pretty easily, even if you're a very messy person. He's very clued in on anything that involves you (smitten, much?) and he's also just got a keen eye on him.

"Ugh, I can't find where I left my-”

“Bottom drawer of the nightstand.”

“Oh.. Thank you!”

He loves holding and kissing you as well, it's his favorite thing to be welcomed home to. Just the ability to sink into your arms is like heaven to him. Receiving, he probably likes physical touch a lot more, but he feels 100x more satisfied doing something for you to show he cares :).

— Genshu Lin.

Genshu Lin is a possessive man. It's subtle, but it's definitely there. Above all else, he adores you. He's a deeply devoted person when in a relationship, though I don't feel like he's had a lot of experience to pinpoint that exactly, but it's his nature. I believe he enjoys gifting you things he gets his hands on, trinkets or otherwise.

He mostly enjoys giving you things you can make use of or wear. He always gets a warmth in his chest when he sees you in the bracelet he got you (one that matches his that he keeps tucked away for safekeeping) or using pens he gave you after you kept losing your last ones. As long as it works, suits you, and it means a lot to you, he's snatching it up.

I also believe he's a sucker for stealing kisses in private. He may not seem it to anyone else, but he's a softie. Just for you though. Cooking something or simply sitting around? Funny how his lips just found their way to your cheek!

He's a bit more apprehensive about receiving it unless it's the time you two lay in bed together, then he'd let you rub his back or play with his hair. In return, he most enjoys quality time.

Even if it's something as mundane as running an errand or having to pick something up from the pharmacy he wants you there. He'd tell you “I don't need your presence, I just prefer it” if questioned, but he does need it. More than he knows or even lets on, he wants you and needs you there. He hates having to be away from you. It drives him up a wall almost. Like nearly insane.

After long hours working or even days/weeks of it he wants nothing more than to just lay with you and bathe in your presence as if it's a balm for his soul :’).

I love these men they're so fine

[st4rc4t]

4eva (hasan piker x reader)

cw: depressed/bedridden!reader, entirely comfort

wc: 600+

a/n: if u think uve read this before, you have ! i originally wrote this for wilbur soot about 2 year ago but we all know how that went so . i rewrote it for hasan and its better now

When Hasan finds you, you’re curled into yourself and almost tiny. The big fluffy comforter makes it so only a small peak of your hair is in his view. If anyone had glanced, they would’ve thought the bed was empty. He knows better than that. He enters the space slowly, giving a low grumble of a greeting, making extra sure you know he’s there. He sits on the edge of the bed as delicately as he's capable. He watches your lump in the blanket rise and fall for a minute, mulling quietly over the right thing to say, and do. 

“Are you awake?” he whispered, keeping the hushed tone of the room.

A couple seconds of silence pass, and he’s almost scared he’s disturbing your incredibly needed rest. Although you shake your head in response, he can't tell if it's a yes shake or a no shake. At least he knows you’re awake, whether you want to admit it or not. Before he can begin to overthink his options, your hand snakes its way out of its blanket shell, leaving it out and open for him. He still doesn’t see your face. He shuffles his large body closer to yours, almost testing the waters.

He was so stressed when he got the text from you. A simple “I need you” has never pierced him so sharply. He was on his way immediately, assuming the worst from something so vague. He knew if you were in danger, you'd call, but he can never stop his brain once it's in panic mode. The sight of your form in the blanket wasn’t enough to fully quell the pit in his head, but it would be better soon. He would make sure of it.

Your hand moving is what brings him out of his thoughts, making little grabby motions at him. He loves when you do that, he loves feeling wanted. 

Finally, he decides to speak again, “Can I join you?” he mutters out sincerely, continuing to keep his voice low.

A whimpered, “Please,” is all he gets back.

He feels his heart squeeze at the plea, along with an involuntarily sympathetic, “awh” that escapes him. There's a slight pout on his face that, if the image had been taken out of context, would’ve looked as though he was fawning over a sad puppy. His insides are melting.

He physically can't keep you waiting any longer, or himself for that matter. He wants to squish you so hard into his chest, a piece of you stays with him forever.

He takes his shoes off, leaving them at the foot of your bed. Crawling over to lay in the space behind you, careful not to kneel on any limbs. He lays on top of your sheets, just outside the blanket cocoon. He’s still trying to give you space, while also being close. He's not sure why he’s so hesitant, worried about sending you back down whatever spiral landed you here. You turn over to face him, almost pathetically try to wrap your comforter around him. He fawns over you once again, admiring how caring you continue to be, despite the obvious aching. Gently reaching towards your face with both hands, he cradles your head in his large palms. He wiggles his too-big-for-your-bed-body into the protective layer that you've extended to him, tangling closer to you. Rubbing the apples of your cheeks, at long last seeing your pretty eyes gaze up at him. Your pupils dance around his face, looking hard, before your tears start acting up again. You practically smash your face into his chest, still pushing deeper. His warmth wraps around your figure as his arms do, your bodies melding to fit each other’s shape. He’d stay as long as you needed. Forever, preferably.

[k0yaz]

Can I request Kamisato Ayato with a mute!reader? I'd prefer the reader to be female and for this fic to be a one shot, fluff or smutt. You can do any tweaking and write the plot, I don't mind if you can't tho<3

love you just the same.

Pairings: kamisato ayato x fem!reader

CW: sfw, female reader, mute reader, established marriage, envy mention, fluff, there’s literally nothing here, I like this, I’m gonna eat ur pet fish btw, uhm no way gex oh no, drinks the air cutely, holy shit I have no warnings for this one, I don’t care for ayato but I like writing for him yk, r u really silly ahshdhdb, not proofread.

A/N: welcome to the kamisato slumber party (I’m sorry I had to) 🕯️

The towering trees loomed over your figure, enveloping you in a long cast shadow rocking back and forth from the occasional gusts of gentle wind traversing in the clear sky. Glancing up, you squinted your eyes and shielded a hand atop your forehead, filtering the flooding rays of sunlight as it shone onto the earth. You held the porcelain cup between your fingers a bit tighter as the soft breeze of Inazuma whistled into your ears, making your mind wander blissfully amidst the comfortable silence.

Lacking the ability to speak has always seemed like a curse bestowed upon you by the gods. You had never understood why it was you who was subjected to the suffering of remaining silent while everyone around you chattered endlessly. You’d part your lips to speak, hoping for something—anything to push past your throat. However, that wish of yours was to no avail. With a hand to your chest, you’d frequently push past crowds of people, mind racing with a longing to speak as they did.

You believed you’d always fall short of others. That you would have nothing more than longing for your desire to be like those who surrounded you, while you were devoid of the ability to utter even a small sound. Or that was what you thought.

Until you had met your husband, Ayato.

His soothing voice was something you always yearned to hear, preferably over the voices of others who only struck shameful envy in you. However, Ayato had always been a kindhearted man, frequently understanding you and remaining patient as he took his time to understand your quirks. He had never once attempted to push you, nor had he harbored even the slightest bit of frustration whenever you had trouble communicating with him non-verbally. He would only let out a hum of understanding and nurture your hand between his, placing his palm atop your knuckles as his eyes locked onto yours and awaited for you to regain yourself patiently.

It was quite nice, really. Although you couldn’t say it, you cherished your time with him. Always huddling shoulder to shoulder affectionately in his embrace, as you felt as if you had the life that you’ve always wanted when you were in Ayato’s arms. Just by that, he could tell. He always understood your every signal, every cue, every gesture even.

You only let out a closed-mouth sigh as you reminisced upon every time your dear husband had been there for you through thick and thin. You adored every detail about him. His pale blue hair swaying through the wind, that gentle smile complimenting his pool-like eyes, the small mole briefly dotted below the corner of his lip…

You could go on and on about him honestly.

“Dear, I’ve brought some tea.”

A quiet, yet sharp voice called out to you from a distance, inching closer to you as your back rested against the smooth bark. Ayato made his way over to the spot you were sitting, lowering himself into the shade to cross his legs in seated position beside you. The cool tone of the shadows shrouded his face as he carefully set down the teapot, giving his complexion a sweet touch.

You flashed him a grateful smile, setting the porcelain cup down to wrap your fingers around the handle of the teapot. Ayato’s gaze simply followed your movements, as if he was carefully tracing each gesture like a hawk. The tea filled a little below the rim of the cup, clouds of steam drifting out of the hot beverage and vanishing into the air. You blew on it with a subtle breeze of wind from your lips, cooling down the tea as its steam wafted in the direction of your breath, the floral smell still present.

Ayato suddenly cleared his throat, extending an arm out to fumble through a pocket in his clothing. He seemed intent on finding it, fingers feeling up every portion as if he had hidden it quite well. You could only cock your head to the side slightly in response, feeling a blink of curiosity overtaking you, and thinking solely about what this might be.

“Here. Happy anniversary, darling. It may not be much but…I hope you do cherish it.”

Ayato suddenly cupped your face, palms angled against your cheeks as he positioned your head to come level to his chest. Slowly and carefully, he slid a small hairpin into the side of your hair, tangling the clip into your strands steadily. You leaned up to touch the pin, fingers ridging along the gold accents surrounding the center gem. And it didn’t take long for your heart to nearly burst from the fuzzy feeling you felt inside upon realizing…

It was your favorite precious stone.

Although you deeply yearned to verbally articulate how happy you were in this moment, how joyous he had always made you feel—you felt strangely content with not being able to express it. Ayato had understood and cared for you enough, knowing full well what you meant although you couldn’t say it. That was more than enough for you. He was everything you could ever ask for in this jealousy struck world.

His hands kept firm against your cheeks, continuing to cup them as he nearly squeezed them together. You swore he was resisting the urge to do that. Everything went quiet, and time stopped as he pressed his lips to your forehead, both of your eyelids lowering shut as you felt your heart flutter at your husband’s affectionate actions.

You would be together in every life. You knew that as a fact. And you prayed to the archons that in the life ahead of you, he’d love you just the same.

A/N: HOLY SHIT I AM SO SORRY I DIDNT UPLOAD EARLIER MY DRIVING LESSONS MADE ME MENTALLY SHUT DOWN AWHWHHEND BUT IM HERE NOW EVEN THOUGH IRS LIKW 3 AM ‼️‼️‼️

[captain-hawks]

CRIMSON INCLINATION

♡ — osamu miya x f!reader

It’s a ritual—the way Osamu shows you just how much he missed you after away games and training camps, in a tangle of limbs and lips and rumpled sheets. And despite the unfortunate timing of his latest return, to Osamu, it’s just an opportunity to try something new.

18+ ONLY

wc — 3.8k

prompt — period sex

additional content — established relationship, complete and total filth, sexting, blood, fingering, oral sex, unprotected p in v, creampie, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, squirting, so much cum + INARIZAKI UNIVERSITY!OSAMU

╰┈➤ kinktober masterlist

Osamu: catching the next train Osamu: be home by 6

After tapping out a response to Osamu, your finger idly swipes through the rest of the recent messages lingering in your text thread, including a gallery of incredibly unflattering pictures of Atsumu sleeping. But once you reach your conversation from several evenings ago, an ember of heat flares to life in your gut.

>>> Are you back at the hotel yet?

Osamu: not yet, out for dinner with the boys Osamu: whats up?

>>> Put your phone under the table ;)

Osamu: ???

>>> [image sent]

Osamu: FUCK Osamu: i miss you so much

>>> [image sent]

Osamu: fuckfuckfuckasdklj Osamu: wait Osamu: ok i’m in the bathroom now Osamu: [image sent]

>>> [video sent]

Osamu: i’m so fuckin hard right now christ Osamu: look what you do to me Osamu: [image sent] >>> The vibrator doesn’t feel as good as you :( >>> [video sent]

Osamu: babyalkdfjadsf Osamu: wanna feel you so fuckin bad Osamu: make a mess for me Osamu: please

>>> [image sent]

Osamu: good girl Osamu: fuck Osamu: oh oops Osamu: got cum all over the mirror and the sink Osamu: now Tsumu’s dumb ass is banging on the door Osamu: [image sent]

Your conversation had been interrupted part way by several text notifications popping up at the top of your screen from the blonder Miya—

Atsumu: Samu’s either fuckin dead in the bathroom right now Atsumu: or he’s jerkin off Atsumu: don’t answer that Atsumu: but either way can u tell him to hurry it up we need to pay the bill

—

Despite Atsumu’s entirely shameless attempts at flirting when you first met the twins during freshman orientation week at Inarizaki University several years ago, the more outspoken Miya never stood a chance. After learning you had only recently arrived in town from Tokyo, both brothers took it upon themselves to help you acclimate and find your way around, and much to the self-proclaimed eldest’s chagrin…you only had eyes for Osamu from the start. 

Somewhere in between his softer disposition and wry sense of humor, Osamu had a habit of taking your breath away and filling in all the cracks of perpetual anxiety that you’d begun to splinter with over moving all the way to Hyōgo by yourself. 

(“Yer really just gonna look me in the eye and say ya prefer the diet version of me?” Atsumu had balked the first time he caught the two of you fooling around on the couch, clutching his chest in mock-offense right before Osamu nailed him in the face with a throw pillow.)

To most, Osamu may seem like the more mild-mannered, less high-strung of the Miyas—which isn’t untrue, necessarily. 

(Until the two of them start arguing, at which point it’s like watching a mirror hurl childish insults at itself for forty-five minutes straight.)

But that same untamed, wild energy that Atsumu radiates in spades isn’t entirely absent from your preferred twin, he just has a particular outlet where he lets that kindling spark and catch. 

A far more private one.

Beneath those kind eyes, that gentle smile, and the soothing cadence of his voice, Osamu Miya is fucking filthy. In between the sheets, the wanton curve of his lips and his steely, lust-blown pupils are an omen of sinful intent, his rough, gravelly tone a hot, stroking caress that snags on each and every notch of your spine. 

(“Forget what I said about never forgivin’ ya if you move out,” Atsumu had grunted over breakfast one morning in their old shared apartment. “If I have to listen to you two fuckin’ like bunny rabbits for one more night, I’m takin’ a bath with the toaster.”

“How ‘m I gonna make breakfast then?” Osamu lazily drawled around a mouthful of toast. 

Atsumu taped a hand-written eviction notice on his bedroom door that afternoon.)

So the sex?

Fan-fucking-tastic.

But Osamu’s university volleyball career often finds him on the road between a constant array of games and training camps, which puts a bit of a damper on the frequency of your extracurricular activities in the bedroom. 

(see also: the couch)

(see also, also: the shower)

(see also, also, also: the kitchen counter)

(...and that one time on Atsumu’s bed during a party—a secret you and Osamu will both take to the grave.)

Thus, more often than not, your text threads while he’s on the road shamelessly resemble low-budget erotica.

(Atsumu made the mistake of snatching his brother’s phone from him once at the wrong time on a particularly long bus ride.

He called him Ernest Dickingway for a month straight.)

Unfortunately for both of you, there’s something throwing a significant wrench into Osamu’s current plans to—in his words—fill you so deep when he gets home, it’ll still be leaking out of you tomorrow. Groaning as another sharp cramp in your abdomen overrides any lingering lustful thoughts, you sigh pitifully as you envision your boyfriend’s crestfallen expression at the terrible timing of your period.

—

You’ve only just shut off the scorching hot stream of water and wrapped a towel around your naked body when the bathroom door creaks open, Osamu’s gray head of hair poking through the doorway. A grin that sets your heart fluttering in your chest crosses his face as he catches your gaze, wasting no time in striding forward and cupping your face, kissing you hard. 

“Hi,” he says quietly, carrying some of the chill from outside, and you can feel the smile on his face as he says the word against your lips.

“Hi,” you whisper, running your fingers over the soft strands of hair at the nape of his neck.

“Missed you,” he exhales, lips careening off course and trailing along the curve of your jaw, nose nuzzling against the side of your neck.

“I missed you, too, Samu.”

Despite the fact that you’re dripping wet and naked beneath the towel, Osamu takes his time reacquainting himself with your lips first, his hands firmly grasping your hips as he places you up on the counter and loosens the fabric just enough to slot his body between your legs. Your heart burns bright, thrumming insistently in your chest as his tongue skirts along the seam of your lips, imploring them to part. Opening your mouth, he deepens the kiss, fingers dancing along the damp skin of your neck, still warm from the blistering heat of the shower water. 

He tenderly kisses his way down to the hollow of your throat, lips skirting off to the side to wetly mouth at your left collarbone, earning him a sharp intake of breath as you react to the sensation. Your legs wrap around his waist as you scoot to the edge of the counter while pulling him flush against you, your towel falling further open. He groans, nipping at your tender skin while his erection strains against the front of his sweatpants and presses insistently at your core.

“I know ya said you wanted to order takeout first when I got home,” he groans, “but I don’t think I can wait.”

You don’t argue, and so with that, he picks you up, nudging the door open wider with his foot as he carries you toward the bedroom. Fingers fumbling with his shirt, you finally wrench it free and send it flying across the room right before both of you go tumbling atop the bed. Your towel falls open, leaving nothing left to the imagination as you lie splayed out naked atop the sheets, Osamu’s graphite eyes drinking you in.

“I’m never leavin’ you for that long again,” he breathes out as your toe catches in the waistband of his sweatpants, one of his hands reaching down to help you shuck them off. His boxers are fighting a losing battle against his throbbing erection, a dark spot of precum already staining the front of the cotton material.

“I don’t think your team would like that very much,” you muse, reaching up to twirl a rogue strand of his hair with your finger.

He takes your hand into his own, kissing the tips of each of your fingers. “I’ll quit ‘n open up an onigiri shop downtown instead. Then I’ll be home every night to see your pretty little face when I do this.”

Right on cue, your mouth falls open with a moan when he drags a hand up your side and palms at one of your tits, teasing your pebbled nipple with his thumb. While you’ve mostly dried off, his fingers slide through the damp area that remains on the underside of your breasts, spreading the thin sheen of water until your skin absorbs what’s left. Any and all remaining thoughts swiftly leave your head when you feel the huff of his hot breath against the swell of your breasts moments before he takes one of your nipples into his mouth and begins to scrape his tongue against it. 

Your breasts are so tender and swollen, the aching relief of his attentive touch makes your chest heave. And unfortunately, it’s also the sensation of Osamu suckling at your sore breasts that brings you crashing back down to reality, breaking through the dam of arousal to give way to an unfortunate reminder of why there’s a dull ache in your abdomen.

“Osamu…wait.”

He immediately pauses in his ministrations, fingers gently feathering over your skin as he looks up at you expectantly, spit-soaked lips slightly parted, hair already sticking up in several directions. “Hmm?”

“We might need to take a rain check on the sex,” you sigh, wincing at the feeling of another sharp cramp.

He furrows his brows, sitting up slightly and looking down at you with concern. “You alright?”

You mumble something about having your period under your breath. Not because you’re embarrassed—Osamu’s the poster boyfriend for doing tampon runs without so much as batting an eye—but rather because you feel bad that you completely forgot about it the moment he started kissing you.

Osamu’s quiet for a few moments, mulling over something in his head until he finally responds, “I don’t mind.”

You smirk. “Well yeah, I still have a mouth.”

He tilts his head to the side, an odd expression on his face. “S’not what I meant.”

There’s a butterfly-soft caress of fingertips dancing along the top of your thigh as he speaks, the silence that hangs between you now dripping with the implication of his words, adding an invisible weight to his touch. 

With communication as a solid cornerstone of your relationship, neither of you has ever shied away from conversations about exploring different kinks and sexual desires—one of the most recent having found your legs wrapped around Osamu’s waist as he fucked you in the equipment room after practice, a scenario you’d jokingly tossed out across the mattress and into the meager space between your pillows one night.

(“Is it…weird that it turns me on imagining you fucking me in there after practice? Covering my mouth to try and keep me quiet so none of your teammates catch us?”

It’s something that people would expect from Atsumu, without a doubt.

But not from this Miya.

“Better wear that pretty new dress you just bought when ya come watch tomorrow’s practice, then.”)

And that’s what turns you on even more—knowing that you’re the only one that gets to experience that part of Osamu, sweat-slicked hair plastered to his forehead while he hotly mouths at the side of your neck in the dark, the sounds of his lingering teammates just on the other side of the closed door. The press of his hand against your lips, muffling the sounds the repeated thrusts of his cock are pulling out of you no matter how hard you try to stay quiet. His forehead against your own, a boyish grin on his face, shoulders shaking in breathless, silent laughter as the two of you narrowly avoid getting caught.

So standing on the precipice of trying something new with Osamu right now? It certainly wouldn’t be the first time.

But this.

Does he really mean…?

You’ve never dared entertain the thought, the mere idea of it a step too far to even consider broaching the topic. And yet Osamu seems entirely unruffled by his suggestion, like he hasn’t just thrown you completely off kilter.

“You want to…” you trail off, eyes darting down to your lower half before looking back up to meet his again.

“I bet you’re real sore and haven’t been feelin’ too good all day, huh?” he asks, fingers skimming over your hip bone. You nod in response, and he begins tracing circles up the inside of your thighs as he continues, “Well…how about I make you feel real good now?”

If Osamu wasn’t the one that brought up the idea in the first place, you’d be embarrassed by how turned on you feel at the thought of him delving between your legs at this exact moment.

Glancing at the bed, you thumb the edge of the towel that you’re still lying on top of. “It’ll probably get…messy.”

He leans down, ghosting his lips over yours in a whisper of a kiss. “And if I said I want ya to make a mess for me?”

The sharp feeling in your gut isn’t pain this time, but a searing jolt of desire that makes you restlessly shift beneath him. 

“Are you sure?”

“I’m so goddamn hard just thinkin’ about it,” he tells you, voice rough.

Letting your entire body relax, you whisper, “Then touch me, Osamu.”

Osamu’s eyes remain trained on yours as his hand makes its way between your legs, your breath hitching in your throat when he deftly swipes a finger through your drenched folds. Your slit is soaked in arousal, but it’s also dripping with blood. You know just how slick and dirty it feels—you’ve touched yourself like this in the shower before. But to have someone else’s fingers rubbing deliberate circles over your fluttering entrance, smearing your bodily fluids along the inside of your thighs?

It’s absolutely filthy, and you’re not sure if you’ve ever felt so turned on in your entire life. 

He watches you with rapt attention, gray eyes darkening like a storm as he drinks the way your body trembles with each stroke. Without warning, Osamu sinks a single finger into your cunt, the simple sensation nearly shoving you over the precipice of an early climax. You keen underneath him, legs spreading wider to bring him deeper inside of you. 

“Osamu,” you exhale, biting down hard on your lower lip.

He groans, inadvertently grinding his cock down against your thigh. “Fuck, you’re so wet. Holy shit.”

A second digit joins the first, if only for the novelty of it, because you’re so goddamn soaked there’s no need to actually prepare your cunt for the stretch of his cock. He crooks his fingers, dragging them along your plush inner walls, and you whine, running your hands over your swollen breasts. 

“Feels so good, Samu.”

He begins to roughly palm himself through his boxers, the leaking head of his cock poking up through the waistband that’s now shifted low on his hips. 

“You have no idea what I wanna to do to you right now, ” he tells you, his own imminent loss of composure evident in his rasping tone. 

“Show me,” you plead as you rock your hips.

But for all that Osamu’s made it abundantly clear that he wants to do this, you’re still not expecting what happens next—his head between your thighs, the press of his fingers inside of you replaced by a broad stroke of his tongue up your slit. You cry out, bucking your hips into his touch as he sucks on your clit, swirling his tongue over the sensitive bundle of nerves before returning his attention to your quivering entrance.

His hands grasp the inside of your thighs, and all you can do is brokenly moan as he slips his tongue into your cunt. The sounds of him eating you out are downright obscene, the wet squelch of his mouth devouring your bloody, soaked pussy leaving you in a dizzy haze of arousal. Osamu, meanwhile, is just as affected as you are, his boxers askew, ass partially hanging out as he ruts against the mattress. 

It doesn’t take long for the heat churning in your gut to start to unfurl, your muscles going taut with the rapid approach of your climax. And Osamu, ever the overachiever, is quick to shove two fingers back into your cunt, the pads of the digits curling tight to firmly stroke your spongy inner walls as he sloppily mouths at your clit. 

If his intention was to make you squirt, something he’s become mildly obsessed with since the first time it accidentally happened, he passes with flying colors. His name is a choked out sob on your lips as your orgasm rips through you, clear liquid spraying from your cunt as you moan and shudder. Osamu groans loudly against your pussy, and you shudder with oversensitivity as he laps up everything you give him.

“Almost came in my pants,” he breathes out unsteadily as he looks up at you, wiping at the blood that’s smeared all over his lips and cheeks with the back of his hand. It’s a futile effort, and he opts to use the corner of the towel instead, though it still leaves behind a lewd stain on his skin.

“Glad you didn’t,” you reply, running a hand over the outline of his dick.

“Mmm, why’s that?” he asks, shifting his body to finally slip his boxers off.

The idea of him humping the bed so desperately while eating you out that his boxers are sticky and soaked with cum afterward is undeniably hot, yes. But—

An image of Osamu’s cum and your blood dripping out of your cunt and down the inside of your thighs flashes through your head, and it’s all you can do not to impale yourself on the thick shaft that’s bobbing between his legs. 

“Want you to fill me up,” you murmur, sliding one of your own fingers through your folds.

There’s an awkward beat where you regret letting those words slip, belatedly uncertain of where Osamu might draw a line between himself and the bloody mess between your legs. You’re not even sure if the two of you have any condoms lying around currently.

But you’re both on the same page, because he lets out a shuddering breath as he notches the head of his flushed cock at your entrance and firmly squeezes the base. “Feel like ’m gonna come as soon as I put it in.”

The mere thought of just how close to the edge Osamu already is sends a bolt of desire surging between your legs. And even if he does blow his load prematurely, you know he’ll be fucking his cum right back into you the moment he coaxes his dick back to life again anyway.

“What're you waiting for?”

Osamu plunges into your cunt, your tight walls so slippery with fluids that he immediately bottoms out, slamming into your cervix. You both moan in unison, the blood, cum, and arousal creating a far more wet and slippery surface than any of the various bottles of lube nestled in the drawer of your nightstand could ever hope to achieve. 

“Haaaaaaaaaah—fuckfuckfuck,” he groans, forehead falling against yours as he involuntarily jerks against you.

“Holy shit,” you echo his sentiment, fingernails digging into his back.

Osamu begins to move, though his normally precise, thorough thrusts are far sloppier than usual, thanks to unbelievably slick tunnel your cunt has become, paired with his downright lust-fuelled, pussy drunk state. You’re desperately pliant beneath him, your cunt greedily sucking his cock back in with each wet, heavy stroke. 

You can only imagine how his shaft looks right now—painted red with blood, sticky with cum, and glistening with the sheen of your arousal. Each plunge of his shaft into your sodden hole elicits the filthy, lewd sound of excess fluids squirting and dribbling out from between the two of you, dripping onto the towel below. Pleasure builds rapidly in your abdomen as you both fight to keep any semblance of a rhythm, though it’s ultimately a lost cause. 

“This is so fuckin’ hot,” Osamu pants, hardly able to get the words out between his groans.

His thumb finds your clit again, and your eyes nearly roll into the back of your head when he makes contact with the sensitive cluster of nerves. “Come for me again,” he murmurs. 

Osamu Miya never needs to ask you twice.

The ache between your thighs flares white-hot, a scorching wave spreading beneath your skin as you reach the crest of your climax. Osamu fucks you through your trembling bliss as you whimper and moan beneath him, his own composure walking a tightrope as your walls spasm and contract around his thick shaft. 

“Come in me,” you whine, the back of your head still pressed firmly into the pillow as your body slowly begins to relax from its tense, arched position. 

With no willpower left to stave off his orgasm after resisting the urge to let your slick cunt milk his cock the moment he sunk into the heat between your thighs, Osamu gives you one last sloppy thrust.

“Fuuuuuuuck,” he moans, burying his shaft balls deep in your wet cunt.

Your sensitive walls flutter around his cock as he pulses deep inside of you, filling you to the brim with thick, hot cum. And even when he begins to pull his shaft from the warm confines of your pussy moments later, he still can’t stop coming. A broken moan crawls up his throat as he grabs his slick, throbbing cock with one hand, the other fingering your succulent, fucked out hole while a creamy flood of blood and cum drips out of you. He fists his length as he finger fucks you, groaning as more ropes of his sticky cum paint your thighs and your stomach. 

“One more,” he chokes out roughly, completely fucking gone on the filthy, depraved mess you’ve both made.

It’s too much.

It's not enough.

Your cunt is so overstimulated, you’re oscillating between pleading moans and desperately gasping for air. 

But Osamu knows you, knows how much you love when he pulls every possible orgasm out of you, till you’re a moaning, shuddering, cum-soaked mess for him.

And after the last remaining coil inside of you snaps, leaving you to whine his name as you buck upward into his touch, Osamu’s softening cock nearly jumps back to life, one last spurt of cum dripping out and landing squarely on your clit. 

He collapses beside you afterward, arm slung across your chest as he nuzzles against your shoulder, and you can feel the sheepish grin spread across his lips as he mutters against your skin, “Yer tellin’ me I get a whole week of this?”

— likes, comments, &/or reblogs are greatly appreciated!

[marwolaeth-76]

Can u maybe write smut about veneer😣? (Preferably maybe r is dom, u can pick the gender) basically r and fucking veneer right before a concert and veneer is a MESS cuz hes so desperate 🙏🙏🙏🙏

Hey!! Thank you for your request! I enjoyed writing this, I hope I satisfied your request🩷

I want to tell everyone else who is also waiting for their requests, I will definitely write everything within a few days, thank you for your understanding💘💘

Veneer x Reader !smut before the concert

cw: sucking dick, dirty talk, just NSFW content!

!!all characters are adults!!

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Standing in a utility room with dusty shelves, a small creaky chair and all sorts of props, you look at Veneer with a defiant fire in your eyes. Of course, the pop star knows what you want, and he wants it too. “Can you wait and do it after the concert? huh, to tell the truth, I also have a desire to do this, but there’s less than half an hour left, and besides, Vel is probably already looking for me..“ - The guy retreats in a slightly nervous tone, crossing his thin arms over his chest and looking at you from above down, lightly biting the inside of his lip out of nervousness. You look at Veneer with a sharp gaze, like a trigger, you won’t let it go just like that. Veneer felt your hand trail up his thigh towards the place where he needed you most and felt his blood run cold, “I feel that you want this too, Vee” - You grin almost evilly at him, while the star looks away in embarrassment and snorted displeasedly. “just let me help with this, I don't think performing on stage with that rock hard boner would be a good idea.” A small drop of cold sweat runs down the guy's face when he feels your hand begin to slightly squeeze his bulge under his gold-plated shorts. After hesitating for a few seconds, he rolled his eyes and nodded at you, giving his consent. You quickly lead the guy to that flabby chair at the end of the small room, sitting him down and kneeling in front of him. Quickly pulling down his shorts and his boxers, you mischievously lick your lips, which have become dry from lip tint. “Oh damn! baby just look at this, you want pleasure so bad!” Fidgeting in his chair, Veneer whines: “pleaaase hurry up..! and don’t talk to me when your head is near my dick, it feels like you’re not talking to me..“ You just roll your eyes mischievously, finally looking up at your boyfriend - a star, with a thirsty sparkle. he’s so sensitive, it’s an absolute shame…The poor thing presses himself so hard into the chair until his knuckles turn white from the tension with which he holds the arms of the chair. Eating his dick up as if you’ve been starved for it. sticky saliva ooze and seep all down the sides as you take it to the back of your throat with no regard for your own breathing. “o-oh man! You gotta slow down…oh my gosh, I-I can't!“

You care even less when he busts dick in the back of your throat and you just keep sucking without a care. Gulping, gagging and slurping noises filling the once quiet room, right along with Veneer’s pathetic moans. His breathing is so erratic it's like he's running cross-country. Sucking his throbbing cock so greedily, playing with his dick in your mouth, speeding up and slowing down your pace, releasing so much sticky saliva onto your chin and his thighs..it’s as sexy as it messy. And the pop star wants, no, he longs for this to continue, there is so little time left, but he, like a puppy thirsty caress, is unable to stop you. Whimpering moans covered by one of his hands, Veneer tries to be quieter, the singer’s trembling and sweetly pleading-sounding voice can only say “mgh.. yees!, please d-don’t stop, swallow it all.” Approaching his end, Veneer looks down at you, his eyebrows are drawn together on the bridge of his nose, his lips are slightly parted, he is a complete mess and wants you not to stop. His moans get louder as you suck harder, allowing him to push the tip of his cock down your throat. The baby literally begs you with his gaze, his hand gently rests on the top of your head, stroking your hair. “s-sweetheart, please don't stop, I beg you..” Seeing how clouded in mind Veneer acts, you cannot tease him any more, you love your boy too much to be so angry towards him. Increasing the pace of your eating the hot rod, you first hear a plaintive moan, similar to a whine, after which you feel your boyfriend’s sticky hot sperm filling your mouth, removing his penis, he came a little more on your cheek, causing a dissatisfied tsokon from you. “damn, your sperm is more bitter than last time, stop eating all shit already, Veneer“ Veneer looks at you with a tired and indignant look, after which his green lips stretch slightly into a lazy grin. “it was sooo mess.. but I really like it"

[niningtori]

mastermind | preview

out now!

pairing(s): choi beomgyu x you, choi yeonjun x you

genre: angst, romance, smut in full fic, not in preview (sorry) (MDNI)

warnings: yandere!beomgyu, smut in full fic, not in preview (sorry) (MDNI), probably some dubcon tbh ;_;

notes: lord knows i have enough WIP's, but i'm revisiting this as we speak. i have no idea when this will come out btw but it's on its way slowly but surely

-

do you love your boyfriend? of course. do you trust him? of course. so are you surprised to see a photo of him very clearly making out with another woman? well, of course.

your friends, your family, and even passersby would simply tell you you shouldn’t be, though. yeonjun used to be very well known for his sexual escapades, so when you announced he was your boyfriend, nobody was particularly happy for you. especially not your best friend in the whole world, beomgyu.

“he’s just gonna hurt you, just like the last one!”

you remember flinching at this. you remember how hurt and indignant you felt at the time. you also remember the silent treatment you gave him, and the cold war that began shortly thereafter. he apologized afterwards, of course, but you had asked him what was so bad about you that he couldn’t just believe that yeonjun had changed for you. he was silent at this, which only made you even more angry. it was all pointless in the end, you suppose.

as you sit on beomgyu's couch, your phone rings again. you have a special ringtone for yeonjun, so you don’t even bother to check the caller id before you silence it. he’s been calling you incessantly since you texted him that you saw the picture and were done with him. your face is downcast and if you weren't so consumed by your sadness, you'd notice the faint look of delight in beomgyu’s eyes.

“i think you should just block him,” he says as nonchalantly as he can muster. maybe in another state of mind, you'd register the satisfaction in his tone, but right now? all you can sense is his urgency, which can easily be explained away by selfless and sincere concern. just how he likes it.

edit: please lmk if u want to be on my permanent taglist or the taglist for this work! if u do, please specify which u would prefer ( ˘ ³˘)♥

[vermilionsun]

hellooo, i really love the headcanons u write 4 touchstarved. i totally understand if ur uncomfortable writing about this, so no pressure. but if ur okay with it, i’d be curious to see how the lis (whichever u prefer, but preferably leander or someone with a visible scar ><) would react to an mc with sh scars.

TW! Implied self–harm [as per the request] Let’s start with the basics; this is not romanticising sh in any way, shape or form—I believe it’s obvious

If anyone ever feels the need to let something out of their chest/venting, or even chit-chat about this and that, my messages are and will remain open <3

And always remember; Seeking help is a sign of strength, not weakness.

𝓐𝓲𝓼

✩ He didn't mean to see them. He wasn't trying to look for them.

✩ His eyes widened slightly before narrowing again. The subtle shift in his expression betrayed his thoughts as he debated whether or not to acknowledge what he saw.

✩ "What are those?" Not subtle, not discreet, straight to the point. "How did they happen?" he asked, his tone blunt but oddly caring.

✩ He took a step forward, and then another, standing so close that he could easily reach out and touch them. "Listen, I'm not gonna judge you or anything. I just wanna know…”

✩ He’s worried as fuck

✩ but remains as calm as can be, letting them take their time

✩ He took it upon himself to make sure the scars were healing properly (with what little knowledge he had from helping Kuras)

𝓚𝓾𝓻𝓪𝓼

✞ His eyes narrow minutely. He doesn’t show any sign of fear or disgust, and that somehow is even more alarming than it would’ve been if he had. The expression on his face is almost blank.

✞ His tone remains even, betraying nothing of his thoughts or emotions. Something in his stare is just the slightest bit piercing, however. He’s assessing them, studying all of the details of their form and expression. He’s… unnervingly perceptive. He keeps just barely out of arm's reach.

✞ His coat rustles as he gently reaches out, like he’s trying not to startle a small wild animal. A single long, slender finger traces one of the scars. "My. That is serious scarification. How did it happen?" He asks, as if he doesn't already know the answer. Or maybe he does, and he just doesn't want to believe it.

✞ He will push for an answer.

✞ There’s a long, heavy silence. A flicker of understanding clouds his expression. "Why?" The sharp tone melts away, replaced by gentleness.

✞ He lets out a tired sigh and pinches the bridge of his nose, all the tension leaving his body. For that moment, the mask of the competent, emotionless doctor falters, and he suddenly looks older, more worn-down, more vulnerable.

✞ "Don't… I've heard the same story far too many times."

𝓛𝓮𝓪𝓷𝓭𝓮𝓻

🗡"Hey, what are those from?" His expression remained the same for a brief moment, a hint of curiosity in his eyes, fixated on the scars.

🗡When he noticed the pause, he took a step closer, maintaining a respectful distance. "It's alright. You can tell me."

🗡 As the words left their lips, Leander's expression shifted slightly, reflecting a tinge of surprise and a hint of understanding, though he remained calm. "You..." Leander started, choosing his words carefully. "Did you do this to yourself...?"

🗡The concern in his eyes intensified, and his voice dropped to a soft, gentle murmur. "Are there more?"

🗡 His fingers instinctively reach out—

🗡 He gently drew them into a tight embrace, holding them close against his chest, his body warm and firm against theirs. "Nevermind. You don't have to say a word. I'm here for you."

🗡 "You know, scars aren't all bad. They're reminders that you've survived, that you're stronger than you give yourself credit for…. Just promise me you won't do it again. Those scars... they don't belong on you."

𝓜𝓱𝓲𝓷

🕊 Mhin's demeanor would change the moment they'd spot their scars

🕊 They’d hesitate only momentarily before walking up to them, yanking any fabric away and inspecting them

🕊 "How old are they?" They’d ask, their voice a bit softer compared to their earlier attitude.

🕊 They’re just.. staring at them, the gears in their head clearly turning. Mhin looked quite… shocked, like they’d seen a ghost roaming the streets of Eridia.

🕊 “You did this on purpose,” they concluded. "Were you trying to…?" Their voice is careful, treading on thin ice.

🕊 For once, they ignored their pride and went with something their heart was telling him to do instead of their head; They soaked a cloth in the disinfectant eyes flickering back up to their ace before carefully bringing it to the scars. They worked silently, cleaning the wounds with surprisingly gentle touch before wrapping them in bandages once done.

🕊 “Who drove you to it?”

𝓥𝓮𝓻𝓮

✦ Ỳ̶̡̮̜̙̑̈́͆̄̌̾̈́̔̚͘ͅỏ̸̢̨̖̺̦̫̀͊̏̊͝u̷͚̜̟̟̪͎͙͂́̉̑̌̀̊̔̄̾̌͝r̴̨̞̪̽͋̌͜ ̵̧̡̞̺͔̖̳̱̗͈̩̟͛͋͜ͅͅs̷͈̯͊̀̃́̿̿c̶̨̨̜͈͙͈̱̀̑́̎ą̴̙̞̟̰̙͓̫̽͑r̴̢̢̡̙̭͖̦̝̺̮̄͑̍͛̓͗̂̿̂̿̓̒̈́̕ṣ̵́̈́̉̋̂̏͛̐̂̑͊̾́̕̕.̴̖̤̱͙̀̀ ̴̢̧͇̮͈̥̮̲͈̫̓̄̔̋ͅ

✦ It's unexpected. He is really close to them—too close for comfort. So close that they're able to feel the heat of his breath.

✦ His face is calm, almost emotionless, but there is something like deep thoughtfulness in his eyes and a little bit of irritation that he is clearly trying to conceal. 

✦ "A lot of them..." His voice is quiet, almost a whisper. There's something strange in his tone. "Who did that?" They feel his rough fingers on their skin, his touch not gentle, but not as harsh and cold as they'd expect. He seems tense now, looking at them with a kind of coldness that they hadn't seen from him before.

✦ He suddenly makes a quiet huffing sound, as if he's almost sneering. “What a waste.” He mutters and he finally steps back a little, his gaze still on their scars. “Stupid… What was even the point?” It’s something like a sincere question, that came out without him realizing it.

✦ He’s clearly trying to figure something out, staring them down, observing every muscle, twitch and every subtle movement

✦ “Was it worth it?”