#could it be anything to do with the fact i only brush my teeth like five times a week?

[junojoel]

Inside Your Mind

Jackson!Joel x fem!Reader, 1.6k

Summary: You need to find a way to make Joel relax. Quickest solution? A blowjob.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, smut, oral (m!receiving), swallowing cum, fingering, unprotected piv, creampie, ignoring the fact an old man would not recover that quick, dubcon??, joel says hes not in the mood, but he is, slight sub!joel at the start, stressed joel, not specified but glasses stay on in my mind

i watched ep1 this morning and spent my whole day getting this out. could not concentrate on anything else.

You watch him from the doorway, the way his shoulders stay rigid, like he’s still braced for a fight. Arms crossed, your own frustration simmers beneath your skin. He hasn’t slept. Barely eaten. Every waking moment is consumed by the fear of losing her—again.

Enough.

You push off the frame and move toward him, your bare feet silent on the wooden floor. The firelight dances over his back, highlighting the rigidness of his spine. When you’re close enough to feel the heat radiating off him, you reach out and let your fingertips trail down the tense muscles of his shoulders.

He stiffens but doesn’t turn.

“Joel.”

His name is soft on your lips, but he only grunts in response, his fingers tightening around the pencil in his grip. You sigh, reaching out to brush a loose strand of hair from his forehead.

“You’re gonna run yourself into the ground,” you murmur, your voice low, edged with concern.

Joel exhales sharply through his nose, his grip tightening on the pen. “Ain’t got a choice.”

“There’s always a choice.”

His breath hitches, just slightly, but his jaw stays set. “Ellie’s out there—”

“And she’s safe,” you interrupt, your hand sliding down his chest, feeling the steady thump of his heart beneath your palm. “Tommy’s got her. You need to rest.”

You step closer, your hips pressing against the side of the desk, forcing his knees to part just enough for you to slide between them. His breath hitches, just slightly, but his eyes stay fixed on the papers. Your hands slide down his arms, feeling the strength beneath his skin, the way his muscles flex as he resists the urge to pull away. You press closer.

“Let me take your mind off it,” you whisper.

“Darlin’,” he warns, voice low.

You ignore him, leaning down until your lips brush his ear. “What’s it gonna take to get you to look at me?”

A shudder runs through him. His head tilts slightly, just enough for you to see the way his jaw clenches. “Darlin’, I ain’t in the mood—”

You cut him off by nipping at his earlobe, your teeth scraping just enough to make him suck in a sharp breath. Your hands drift lower, slipping beneath the hem of his shirt, fingertips tracing the ridges of his abdomen.

“Liar,” you breathe against his neck.

Bracing your hands on the arms of the chair, you lower yourself onto his lap, your thighs straddling his. His hands instinctively grip your hips, calloused fingers pressing into your skin through the fabric of your jeans.

His hands flex against the desk, but he doesn’t push you away.

Encouraged, you let your teeth graze his pulse point—just enough to make him suck in a sharp breath.

“Fuck,” he mutters.

You smile against his skin.

Your hands slide down his chest, fingers working open the buttons of his shirt one by one. His breathing is heavier now, his body rigid with restraint.

“You’re playin’ a dangerous game,” he growls.

You hum, slipping the last button free and spreading the fabric apart, revealing the hard of his chest, the scars that map his skin.

“I know exactly what I’m doing,” you whisper, dragging your nails lightly down his torso.

Your fingers make quick work of his belt buckle, tugging it free with a sharp pull. His breath catches, hands twitching like he means to stop you—but he doesn’t.

“You think too much,” you murmur, palming him through his jeans, feeling him stiffen under your touch. His jaw clenches, a low groan trapped in his throat.

“Ain’t—fuck—ain’t the time for this,” he grits out, but his hips jerk into your hand anyway.

The second you drag his zipper down, he’s already half-hard, thick and heavy in your hand. You don’t waste time—just drop to your knees and lean in, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to the tip, tasting salt and heat.

Joel’s curse is ragged, his fingers tangling in your hair. “Christ—”

You take him deeper, tongue swirling, hollowing your cheeks as you sink down. His grip tightens, not pushing, just holding, like he’s barely holding himself together.

“Fuck,” he rasps, head falling back. “Just like that—shit—”

You hum around him, savouring the way his thighs tense, the way his breath comes rough and uneven. His hips buck once, shallow, like he’s fighting not to take control.

But you don’t let him. You set the pace—slow, deliberate, dragging your lips up and down his length, teasing the head with your tongue before swallowing him down again.

Joel’s muttering curses, his free hand fisting your shirt. “Goddamn—goddamn, sweetheart—”

You glance up through your lashes, meeting his blown-out gaze. His lips are parted, his chest heaving, and for once—finally—there’s nothing in his eyes but you.

You suck harder, bobbing faster, and his grip turns almost painful. “Gonna—fuck—gonna come if you keep—”

You don’t stop.

With a ragged groan, Joel spills into your mouth, his whole body shuddering. You swallow every drop, working him through it until he’s panting, oversensitive, his fingers slackening in your hair.

When you finally pull back, licking your lips, he’s staring at you like he’s seeing you for the first time. His eyes are dark, pupils blown wide with want, and the intensity of his gaze sends a thrill straight to your core.

“You think I don’t know what you’re doin’?” His voice is rough, gravelly with need. “Tryin’ to distract me?”

“Is it working?” you breathe.

A muscle in his jaw ticks.

The kiss is rough, desperate, all teeth and hunger. He tastes like whiskey and exhaustion, and you moan into it, arching against him. His hands slide under your thighs, lifting you effortlessly before slamming you down onto the desk. Papers scatter, a glass tumbles to the floor with a smash, but neither of you care.

His body cages yours, one hand pinning your wrists above your head

Joel leans over you, his breath hot against your lips. “This what you wanted?” he rasps. His body cages yours, one hand pinning your wrists above your head, one hand fumbling with the button of your jeans.

You hook a leg around his waist, dragging him closer. “I want you to stop thinking.”

His fingers slip between your thighs, finding you already wet, already aching for him.

“Christ,” he growls, dragging a rough finger through your folds.

You whimper, bucking against his touch, but he holds you down, his grip unrelenting.

“Joel—please—”

He chuckles darkly, nipping at your throat. “Beggin’ already? We ain’t even started.”

Then his fingers are inside you, curling just right, and your back bows off the desk with a cry. He sets a punishing pace, his thumb circling your clit in tight, relentless strokes.

Your mouth finds his collarbone, biting down hard enough to leave a mark. Joel hisses, his hips grinding against yours, the friction drawing a broken sound from your throat.

You writhe beneath him, pleasure coiling tight in your belly, but just as you’re about to tip over the edge, he pulls away.

You gasp, blinking up at him in dazed frustration.

Joel’s smirk is dark, predatory. His fingers glisten with your arousal as he drags them slowly down your stomach, watching your chest rise and fall with each ragged breath.

“You were sayin’?” he rumbles, voice thick with satisfaction.

You bare your teeth at him, arching up to capture his lips in a biting kiss. “Don’t be a tease.”

His laugh is rough, but his hands are already moving, yanking your jeans down your hips in one sharp motion. The cool air hits your skin, but it’s nothing compared to the heat of his gaze as it rakes over you. Hungry. Possessive.

“Ain’t teasin’,” he mutters, hooking your knees over his elbows. “Just makin’ sure you remember who’s in charge.”

And then he’s pushing inside you in one brutal thrust, stealing the breath from your lungs.

You cry out, nails scraping against the wood of the desk as he fills you, stretching you to the brink. Joel doesn’t give you time to adjust—just sets a punishing rhythm, his hips slamming into yours with enough force to make the desk creak beneath you.

“Fuck—Joel—” Your voice is shattered, barely recognisable.

His grip on your thighs tightens, fingers digging into your skin hard enough to bruise. “Look at me.”

You force your eyes open, meeting his darkened gaze. There’s no trace of exhaustion now—just raw, unchecked want.

“That’s it,” he growls, leaning down to capture your lips in a searing kiss. “Ain’t thinkin’ ‘bout nothin’ else but this. Us.”

You whimper as his pace turns erratic, his thrusts losing their rhythm as pleasure overtakes him. His forehead drops to yours, breath mingling as he drives into you again and again, chasing his own release.

“Gonna come,” he grits out, voice wrecked.

You clench around him, dragging a ragged groan from his chest.

His hips stutter, and then he’s spilling inside you with a guttural moan, his body shuddering above yours. The sensation sends you tumbling over the edge right after, heat rushing through your veins.

For a long moment, the only sound in the room is your combined panting. Joel’s weight presses you into the desk, his forehead still resting against yours.

Then, slowly, he pulls back, his gaze searching yours.

You reach up, brushing a sweat-damp curl from his forehead. “Still thinking about Ellie?”

His lips twitch. “Brat.”

You grin, triumphant.

But before you can gloat, Joel scoops you up effortlessly, cradling you against his chest as he carries you toward the bed.

“Rest,” you murmur, pressing a kiss to his neck. “Both of us.”

This time, he doesn’t argue.

[galaxy-stardust]

Simon Ghost Riley x you

You're mad at him...

The door to your bedroom closed with a sharp click, the sound echoing in the tense silence. You crossed your arms and stood by the window, glaring at the city lights as if they were responsible for your irritation. Behind you, Simon leaned casually against the doorframe, his arms folded over his broad chest, watching you with an amused glint in his dark eyes.

“You’re still mad,” he stated simply, his voice calm and rough like gravel, as if your simmering anger was nothing more than an amusing distraction.

“Yes, I’m still mad!” you snapped, not turning to face him. “You can’t just disappear for days without telling me anything, Simon. I was worried.”

His silence dragged on for a moment, and when he spoke again, his tone was lighter, teasing. “You worried about me, love? Or did you just miss me too much?”

You spun around, glaring at him. “Don’t do that. Don’t try to charm your way out of this. I’m serious.”

But his smirk only deepened as he pushed off the door and slowly walked toward you, his tall frame practically radiating confidence. “I’m not charming my way out of anything,” he said, his voice dropping to that low, intimate tone that always made your pulse quicken. “I’m just stating the facts. You missed me. Admit it.”

You held your ground, even as your breath hitched when he stopped just inches away, towering over you. “Even if I did, it doesn’t matter. I’m still angry.”

His gloved hand brushed along your jaw, his touch featherlight but enough to send a shiver down your spine. “You’re adorable when you’re angry,” he murmured, his thumb grazing your bottom lip.

“Stop it,” you whispered, though your voice betrayed the weakening resolve in your chest.

“Stop what?” he teased, leaning closer, his breath warm against your cheek. “Stop reminding you how much you want me?”

Your cheeks flushed with heat, and you hated how easily he could see through you. “You’re insufferable,” you muttered, trying to step away, but his hands caught your waist, pulling you flush against him.

“Maybe,” he said, his lips brushing against your ear, “but you love it.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but the words dissolved into a gasp as his lips trailed down your neck, his teeth grazing your skin just enough to make your knees feel weak.

“Simon,” you breathed, your anger melting under the intensity of his touch.

“Say it,” he murmured, his hands gripping your hips, his voice thick with that commanding edge that made your heart race.

“Say what?” you asked, your voice shaky.

“That you want me,” he growled, his lips claiming yours in a kiss that was fierce and unrelenting, leaving you no choice but to melt into him.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, a smug smile tugging at his lips. “Thought so.”

You glared at him half-heartedly, your hands gripping his shirt to keep him close. “You’re impossible,” you whispered.

“And you’re mine,” he replied, his voice soft but possessive. “No matter how mad you are, you always will be.”

And as much as you hated to admit it, he was absolutely right.

[parfaitblogs]

guess ❀ s. reid x reader

in which spencer really likes changing the way in which he wakes you up. 

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader genre: smut (18+ mdni) tags: soft dom!spencer. oral (f receiving). spencer bought the underwear r is reading (it's described). very brief nipple stuff bc i hate writing that word xoxo. healthy sex discussion midway through!! communication yippee!! desired somnophilia (it doesn't actually happen). fingering. spencer's a little shit (who's surprised). not proofread!  word count: 2.5k a/n: the lacy black pair with the little bows 💃💃 the ones i picked out for you in tokyo 💃💃💃imagining s13 spencer specifically in that episode he has his firearms exam. u know the one mhm mhm! 

You were indescribably pretty, in Spencer Reid's very professional opinion.

In every form. Even your sickest, most disgusting form — according to you — when you had gastroenteritis that one time after being away on holiday. You were pretty when you dressed up for a date with him or drinks with your friends. When you had just gotten out of the shower and had wet hair and were wearing your pyjamas (either being a matching set or one of his stolen t-shirts). And, his most recent obsession; while you were sleeping. 

Which might be sick in some way shape or form. How much he liked watching you while you slept. The rise and fall of your chest, the blankets bunched up and falling just below your hips — showing the skin of your legs, because the weather was warm and Spencer's apartment was always warmer. 

Yes, it probably is sick. But it's not like he did anything about it. In fact, he usually just watched you until the clock ticked to a time he deemed unreasonable to still be in bed, and he got up and went on about his day (thinking about you the entire time, of course). 

But it was a Sunday, and you had made him promise to be there when you woke up that morning; too sick of finding him out in the kitchen already showered and making food. When all you wanted was to lie in bed for — at least — an hour with him before your days began. 

Your rule was probably the only reason Spencer's mind wandered away from their usual thoughts about you in the morning. But he also wanted to blame it on the fact that your hair was freshly washed and his sheets now smelled of your shampoo, and your legs brushed against his own so many times he thought you might be awake already. 

You were just so, so pretty. And his shirt on you had risen just the right amount, your stomach peeking through, and really, Spencer should not be held accountable for any of his actions that morning. He was but a man, at the end of the day. 

Despite everything he wanted to do to you, he was still a gentleman, and this was a boundary of consent you were yet to cross together. Hence; the arm snaking around your waist, pulling you into him, and the kisses he had begun leaving along your cheek, jawline and neck, hoping to coax you awake, gently. 

Hope that had been answered, because he heard you groan quietly beneath him — the sound, embarrassingly so, shooting straight to the pit of his stomach like he was a teenager. But you were awake. 

"Good morning to you too," you had murmured, voice riddled with morning husk and a layer of exhaustion no doubt still there. 

"Morning, honey," he answered, lifting his face from your neck to your own face, lips twitching a little as you blinked your eyes open. He was quick with it, connecting his lips to yours and eliciting a quiet squeak from you, which simply had him smiling. 

"I have morning breath," you said, though both of you knew he could not care less. He never did, which was almost laughable for a man with such a big phobia of germs. 

"I'll need to brush my teeth after this too, anyways," he had replied, and your stomach flipped in the best way possible. 

"What's this?" 

"Hopefully," he began, placing one last peck to the corner of your mouth, before he shifted your bodies enough so he could trail kisses down to your peeking collarbone. "You'll like it."

"Promise?" you asked him as he hooked fingers beneath his t-shirt, eyes searching yours for approval, before he pushed it up and over your chest.

"Promise," he said with a confirming hum, trailing kisses down your sternum, before kissing back up and taking a nipple into his mouth. 

He decided he liked you like this; still waking up, too out of it to properly silence yourself the way he knew you would if you were in any fully conscious state of mind. It was arguably his least favourite trait of yours — how much you hid when all he wanted was to hear every little noise you made (a thought that shocked him too, the first time he thought it). 

But your back arched and barely functioning limbs pressed down against the mattress when you mewled, and it was beautiful and he was repeating the motion of his tongue flicking over your nipple once, then twice, just to hear it again. 

He smiled at your breathless whimper of his name when he detached his mouth, a hand dropping to your hip and rubbing gentle circles into it. 

"So impatient when you're tired," he murmured, almost scoldingly, gaze flickering up to catch your expression. Not that there was much to look at — you were watching him through half-shut eyelids, lips pulled into a content smile. He moved his head to take the other nipple into his mouth. Goosebumps rose on your skin, and so he comforted the other (now neglected) peak with his thumb. 

But, he was a man on a mission. And so despite how much he wanted to tease you, he had other, far more exciting plans for you. 

Lips kissed down your stomach, stubble scratching delicately at your skin, making you squirm and evoking a hum from Spencer, who glanced up at you with an arched brow. 

"Stubble," you explained, almost breathlessly, and his lips pulled into a smile in acknowledgement. Which was sweet. 

What wasn't sweet was the way he grasped your hips between his hands and pushed them into the mattress and said, in his (incredibly arousing) low voice, "Need you to keep still for me."

"You don't want my hips punching you in the face?" you asked. He laughed at that — it had happened one time. 

"If I can help it, no," he punctuated his sentence with his fingers squeezing your left hip, and you only hummed in response. Then, "Aren't these the ones I bought for you?"

You looked down, and his fingers were hooked under the waistband of your underwear, black bows resting on either side and flipped up on his fingers. 

"Uh... yeah. I must've put them on by mistake last night," you told him, and his eyebrows only rose. "What?"

"By mistake?" he mused, one of his hands letting go of the waistband to trace his knuckle across the top and down over the centre of them, eliciting a shudder out of your lips. 

"I haven't done laundry?" you offered your second excuse. His bewilderment only deepened and he pulled his hand away from you.

"You wanna tell me the truth?"

Damn him. "Okay, so, I was planning on trying to do something with you last night. I did an everything shower and everything," very complex sentences you were creating, clearly. "But then I fell asleep."

"I see," he said, and amusement crossed his features. 

"I wear them all the time!" you protested. "They're comfortable. Also they're really pretty. You would know if you tried to have sex with me more often."

He laughed, only because he could see the faux pout on your lips, and he knew you weren't serious. "I already have sex with you a lot."

"Twice a week isn't a lot."

"I'd argue it is," he said, placing a kiss to the inner side of your thigh — the recognition of what position you two were in whilst having this conversation being somewhat jarring, but mostly humorous. "Do you want me to have sex with you more often?"

"If I say yes, will you?"

"I'll do whatever you want me to," he answered, hair tickling your skin as he tilted his head to the side, resting it on your thigh. 

"Then yes," you breathed out. 

"Okay," he nodded his head, picking it back up to refocus on his task at hand. "Can I take this underwear that you apparently wear all the time off now?"

"Yeah."

Even in the warmth of his apartment, you shivered when he tugged the black lace down — with some resistance he no doubt expected, but still reacted to with a barely audible hiss. You smiled at that.

"So pretty," he murmured, like it was the first time he was ever seeing you. 

He met your eyes one last time, and you watched that stupidly gorgeous smile stretch across his lips, before he was leaning forwards and licking a stripe down the centre, eliciting a breathy whine from your lips. 

He was painfully good at this — a fact that popped into your head every single time he had his mouth on you. You wondered if he was simply born with the knowledge of your body already catalogued in his brain, because even the first time he ate you out, you were immobile for thirty minutes (though, he did make you come four times at once, so maybe it was that). 

"Angel," you felt a nip on your thigh, and your head snapped down, eyebrows furrowing when you met Spencer's gaze. "Focus on me."

"I am," you huffed in response.

"Really?"

In theory, yes. You were thinking about him. Just a distant, past him. 

"Am I boring you already?" 

"Maybe. You might wanna speed up," you replied, always taking the opportunity to have some form of attitude towards him. 

"I miss when you were half-asleep," he sighed, but he gave you what you wanted regardless. 

Lips attached to your clit and his tongue flicked over it, and any retort you had died on your tongue. He liked to shut you up this way, it seemed. Hands that were still holding your hips pushed you into the mattress instinctively, having premeditated the bucking of them. A whimper escaped you when he sucked, head pressing down into the pillow beneath it, and you could feel the muscles of his face move as he smiled against you. 

He always ate you out like he was starved, and if you didn't know better, you'd think he was. He was almost pathetically down bad for you when he was horny, though, and even if you were promising him pleasure, his mouth would find its way to you no matter what. Something about being a service dom or whatever. He had told you about it one time while he was knuckle deep in you, and you clearly didn't retain much in that state. 

"Oh," you breathed out when he dropped his head lower, his tongue circling your entrance, nose bumping your clit. 

You could feel his eyes on you when he flattened his tongue, watching every micro expression you made. 

Now, Spencer Reid was never smug about his knowledge. All those memories and his ability to quote just about anything at the drop of a hat and he never bragged about it. But knowing you? That he could brag about for hours and then some. Because truly, he knew you.

He knew he could make you come just like this; obscenely eating you out. In fact, it was quite easy to. But he found no fun in giving you what you were expecting. It was the only reason he was returning his lips to your clit, a hand dropping down from your hip, sliding over the skin of your thigh, before brushing through your folds, teasingly. 

"Spencer."

He repeated your name in the same whiny tone of voice as your own, mockingly so, and if you weren't so hellbent on reaching an orgasm, you probably would've kicked him.

A finger pushed into you embarrassingly easily, and you moaned, louder than you had yet that morning, which he knew. 

Indecent sounds left your lips continuously, and you eventually stopped fighting them. Much to his satisfaction, clearly, because he had curled his finger in just the right way at the same time he sucked on your clit and you were crying out and hands that had otherwise been heavy on the mattress were flying to his hair. 

You felt and heard him laugh at your reaction, only for him to do it again before you could argue. 

"Fuck, Spencer." 

"I know," he said, lifting his eyes back up to meet yours, twisting his finger and flicking his tongue over your clit. "Taste so good, angel. Could stay here for hours, you know?" You did know. He probably would, unless you had a mass protest to hold. 

"Please," you gasped out, pathetically so.

"Please what?" he mused. 

You opened your mouth to respond, but he chose that exact moment to push another finger into you, cutting any sentences you had off with a moan. 

"You've gotta use your words, sweet girl." You shot a glare at him, and he barked out a laugh. "Okay, okay. Sorry."

He was sorry, because he resumed his ministrations without so much of a delay, both fingers pushing in and out of you, filling the air with vulgar wet sounds to accompany your gasps and moans. 

You moaned his name again, and he mumbled another gentle, "Yeah?"

"Wanna come," you said.

"I know," he said, voice oh so soft, juxtaposing his every action. "Are you asking me or telling me?"

"Telling," you replied, almost huffily, and he laughed, increasing the pace of his fingers only slightly. 

"You don't wanna ask me?"

"Do I need to?"

"Maybe you should start."

"Spencer."

He laughed again, and you felt him nod his head against you. "Okay, okay. Making you come. Relax, sweet girl."

Arguably, you were the most relaxed you could possibly be. But you no longer had enough fight in you to argue, because he was rutting the tips of his fingers up against that spot inside you, and his tongue was moving faster, and you were gone; seeing stars. 

Maybe one thing he loved more than eating you out, was making you orgasm from eating you out. The way your fingers that almost always ended up in his hair scratched at his scalp, your thighs clenching around his head just enough that he had an excuse to pin them open, your voice going breathless and high-pitched. He had watched and felt it happen so many times it was burned into his memory, and yet he was still in awe of you regardless. 

Coaxing you through it and teetering on the edge of overstimulation was another bonus, because your breathless moans turned into whines and you always, always tried to escape him, and he got to remind you how much stronger he was, arms hooking under your thighs and tugging you closer. 

"Spencer," you whimpered. "No more. Please."

That was his cue to stop, and he pulled back, lips upturned in a lovesick grin as he looked up at you, face glistening. 

He pecked up your body until he had reached your face, and then he was kissing you again, regardless of the remnants of your release covering his skin. 

"Did so good. You're always so perfect for me, sweet girl," he murmured against your lips, swallowing your quiet whines. 

"Love you," you managed to mumble out, and he smiled against the cheek he was now kissing. 

"Love you too."

your reblogs and replies are always appreciated dearly ♡

[bisexualjinx]

i think i just chipped another tooth um is it bad if your teeth chip easily?

[cherrymoon4]

Suguru hates the taste of curses. He hates the aftertaste that persists in his mouth, that doesn’t leave no matter how hard he brushes his teeth or how much sickening sweet candy Satoru gives him.

Even when hours pass, no matter how many boiling hot showers he takes, nothing takes away the disgusting feeling that swallowing down curse after curse brings.

He has tried everything, every single thing that comes to mind to not have the aftertaste of a vomit soaked rag stuck to him for hours.

But nothing works, he is sure of that, he reminds himself as he leans over the bathroom sink, trying not to throw up after another “successful” mission and another curse swallowed.

As he takes deep breaths, trying to come up with something, anything, that could help him, he hears a knock on the door, followed by your gentle voice asking if he’s okay.

He’s always seen you as one of his closest friends, the one that is there for when he feels like no one can help him; when he knows Shoko is too busy with her own shit, and Satoru could only try to come up with a joke and probably wouldn’t take him seriously, he knows that the one he can always turn to is you.

Soft, sweet little you. Too kind for your own good, with a heart too big for your petite form. So selfless, always worrying over ‘Sugu’ even when he doesn’t deserve it, even when he pushes you away, not wanting to stain your pure self.

Just like right now, as he contemplates whether to let you in or tell you to leave. He pictures your pretty face in his mind, how it probably is adorned with worry and concern, your doe eyes big and glassy.

His heart clenches at the thought of you walking away all sad after he told you to leave. He can’t bring himself to push you away.

So he tells you come in, he just wanted to reassure you after all. But when he sees you coming in and rushing to check him over for any injuries, clad in your fluffy pajamas and fuzzy socks, his mind fills with images of him doing everything but reassuring you.

And that’s how he discovers that there is, in fact, something that can help him out.

He knows that this is all he needs, your pretty cunt in his face is where he belongs.

Your plushy thighs around his head and your sweet juices smeared on his cheeks are just what he needs to forget everything about curses and the awful feeling that they leave him with.

He reprimands you for keeping your heavenly pussy from him all this time; how could you be so selfish :(

He laps at your folds like a starved man, moaning in your cunt like he’s the one getting eaten out. And he’s so messy too! After all, how could he not be when he finally found the perfect treat to solve his problem?

“Fuck sweetheart, you’re such a messy girl mh?” he grunts, like he’s not the one turning his head side to side to smear your juices all over his face.

“This pretty pussy loves me so much, doesn’t she? Gushin’ around my tongue like that, bet it wants me to fill her up too..” he says as he toys with your puffy pussy and swollen clit, looking up to see you all dumb and stupid, babbling something about how it’s “t-too much!”.

But you clearly don’t know what you need, not when your hole keeps getting wetter and wetter.

“It’s not too much, silly girl. You can take it, I know you can. You want your Sugu’ to be happy, don’t you baby? You wanna be my good girl, yeah?”

And how can you deny him? You do want to be his good girl, his best girl!

So you spread your legs wider for him and let him lap at your messy hole, and you don’t even complain when you feel his thick cock prodding at your entrance, stretching your pussy nice and full :3

hello ^^ ( thank you sososo much for the love on the other posts! send me requests if you want :P )

[cosmicalily]

"someone bagged the rockstar" a han jisung oneshot by @cosmicalily

"someone ran homе empty handed, someone bagged the rockstar. but how sweet, sweet, sweet it'd be, be, be, just to dream, dream, dream, next to me." - 'sweet to dream' by tv girl & jordana

author's note: "guys i'm gonna be inactive" okay so why are your pants on fire lily? warnings: implied sex (no actual smut, you nasties), making out, mentions of alcohol

You woke up with Jisung’s bare chest pressed tight to your back. “Whore,” you’d mumbled under your breath, letting your eyes and hands wander down his arms. Tattoos littered his chest and collarbone, ones you hadn’t noticed in your frenzied state last night. It was strange seeing them on his skin; physical memories he’d chosen to have needled onto him, maybe for fear of forgetting.

“You got it,” a sleepy voice murmured, warm arms slipping around your waist. He nuzzled his head into your shoulder, and you breathed in his scent. It was musky, with a mix of aftershave and your pomegranate perfume.

You let your finger trace the tattoos littering his torso. He didn’t seem to care; he simply watched you outline each drawing, each piece of him.

You’d never gotten tattoos, nor did you ever feel inclined to. You thought they were meaningless, permanent sketches on someone’s skin. 

You suddenly got the desire to cover yourself in delicately traced ink, linking all the parts together that were important to you. It was a quick thought; it came and passed.

“You like them?”

“They’re pretty.”

“I’ll get one for you next,” Jisung yawned, pulling your body flush against his again. “What do you want? Or do you want to sketch it yourself?”

“So are all these tattoos of other girls you’ve taken home?” you teased, pushing his hair out of his face.

Jisung pouted. “I’m not that whoreish. As a matter of fact, I haven’t gotten a tattoo for a single girl. Except for my mom.” He shifted his body slightly to show a small magnolia on his hip bone. 

“I didn’t take you for a ‘gets a tattoo for his mom’ kind of guy,” you giggled.

“Yeah, well, I didn’t take you for a ‘goes home with a guy she’s known for barely a day’ kind of girl.”

You wrinkled your nose a little. You didn’t take yourself for that kind of girl either, but here you were. And it wasn’t like you regretted your decisions either, though you were beginning to regret that final round of beer pong. Of course Jeongin’s terrible coordination had only worked in his favour when alcohol was involved. 

Oh well. Maybe it was worth it. You’d ended up with a pretty boy, his arms around your waist, pressing kisses into your shoulder.

You could be in worse situations.

Your dark hair was in a messy braid, one you remembered Jisung putting it in for you. Your makeup was on his pillowcase, and your eyeliner smudged. You hadn’t brushed your teeth, and your mouth still tasted like alcohol, sour gummy worms, and him.

He didn’t care. He pulled you in by the nape of your neck, just like you’d remembered he had before you’d fallen asleep, and pressed a soft kiss onto your lips.

It wasn’t worth it, was it?

He wasn’t going to stay.

They were on tour.

He’d leave you behind.

Your mind clearly didn’t comprehend these thoughts. You found yourself kissing back, running your tongue over his bottom lip. 

His fingers played with the soft hairs at the back of your neck.

You’d known him all of twenty-four hours.

He was barely doing anything. His kisses were soft and sweet, occasionally accompanied with a soft mumble of incoherent words against the lips. You shoved your face into his shoulder, and he continued pressing kisses into your collarbone.

It was the way he could so easily make you fall for him,

Even though you knew that tomorrow, he might not be there.

You pulled away from him, and Jisung stared at you in confusion, lips glossy, eyes wide.

“Do you want me to stop?” he asked, looking at you worriedly. “I’m sorry. It’s probably too much. If you want to go home now, you can. I can drive you home or walk you or you could go by yourself if you don’t want me to-”

“No, it’s not that. Can I draw my tattoo on you?”

His eyes softened and he nodded excitedly. He rolled over, his lower body tangled in the sheets, and retrieved a Sharpie from somewhere beside his bed. You didn’t question why it might be there. You didn’t question a lot of things about him.

He laid down on his back, and you sat down on his lower stomach, hair falling in your eyes as you drew a design on his collarbone. You weren’t exactly sure what it was initially, but Jisung encouraged you to just sketch whatever came to mind. So you did.

A black cat, a pair of cherries. A small guitar pick.

As the black marker outlined illustrations on Jisung’s skin, he stared up at you, eyes full of stars. 

Oh, there weren’t even words to describe how mesmerising you were to him. As he took you in, all of you, his heart would beat a little faster. And those lyrics he’d write frantically in his notebook, the words that would melt off his tongue so seamlessly when he sang?

Gone. Traceless when you were within some kind, any kind of proximity. 

You did all that to him, something so intentionless. In the way you breathed, the way your bangs fell in front of your eyes no matter how many times you tucked them back agitatedly. In the way you bit your lip in concentration as you traced and coloured and dotted, until at last, you were satisfied.

Once the cap was on the Sharpie, Jisung gently but firmly tugged your body down on top of his, hands resting on your hips. 

“You should come with me,” he mumbled into your ear. “On tour.”

You’d known Han Jisung for all of twenty-four hours, 

And yet you found yourself answering him with a kiss.

taglist: @hyunjiiza @velvetmoonlght @s3ungm1nxxl0ve @btch8008s @yaniluvs @ellemir2404 @bellarellasstuff @starsinagreenskyxx @ashtxrie @pigeonseatmayo @modesttiger @woozarts @zelinkcrossing - comment, dm or send an ask to be added

[princessbellecerise]

You Kiss Their Scars

Summary ✩ How your lover reacts to you kissing their scars

Warnings ✩ Mentions of violence and blood

Jacaerys Velaryon

You were amused as your lips pressed against the teeth shaped scars, in the shape of tiny little bite marks that Jace explained were from Vermax

“He used to bite me plenty when we shared a crib,” Your husband told you. “He was a nasty little thing. Mother was afraid he’d take a chunk out of my arm—but he never did. He stopped doing it when I bit him back,” He revealed

You giggled as you imagined baby Jace and baby Vermax—both the same size at one point—going at it while Rhaenyra tried to separate them. “So I suppose you’ve both always been temperamental then,” You said

It was no surprise that your husband, who also had quite the temper, related so much to his dragon. The two were one of the same, and you guessed that’s why they got along so well

“Yes,” Jacaerys agreed, a fond smile on his face as he recalled the memories. “We were quite a menacing pair indeed.”

Aegon Targaryen

“She did it again,” Is the only thing Aegon had to tell you in order for you to pull him into your arms, kissing the spot where a nasty red bruise was forming

It was no secret that your husband and his mother did not get along, but never did you think that she would have the audacity to strike him after an argument

It was appalling to you every time it happened, and you wanted nothing more than to march towards her and give the same treatment, Queen be damned

It wasn’t fair that she took out her anger out on Aegon but he begged you, no pleaded with you to not do anything

“It won’t do any good,” He’d tell you sadly, and your heart would ache as you saw the brokenness, the sadness on his face. “She’ll just hate me even more if you act.”

Aemond Targaryen

“Hold still.”

You jutted your tounge out in concentration as you cleaned Aemond’s scar, making sure that it was sanitized properly for the day

Your husband trusting you with such a thing was an act of love itself. The fact that he trusted you to see his deepest insecurity meant alot to you, and all you could do to repay him and hopefully bring up his spirits was pepper light kisses on the skin surrounding it

“There, all done.”

“Thank you, my love,” Aemond smiled slightly as he touched the spots were your lips touched, still wondering how he got so lucky as to find someone like you

Cregan Stark

“Ow! Be gentle, woman,” Cregan said playfully, wincing as you brushed over his ‘scar’ with a wet cloth

Somehow, for some reason, your dear husband thought it would be funny to wrestle with his dire wolf and then he had the nerve to come crawling to you, asking you to patch up his wounds after the beast had bitten him

Of course, it wasn’t really that big of a deal and Cregan wasn’t really hurt, but you still smirked as you pressed a kiss to it like it was a real wound

“There. That should ease some of the pain, you big baby,” You teased, rolling your eyes

Cregan chuckled as he checked your work, looking at the bandage you had placed over some ointment

“What do you suppose it’ll look like when it heals?” He asked you seriously

“It’ll look like you simply have a freckle, Creagn,” You responded sarcastically, and then you giggled as he grabbed your waist and pulled you onto his lap

“Don’t make fun me, wife. You should be proud,” He said, flexing the arm where the bite was. “How many men do you know have taken on such a beast and lived to tell the tale?”

“Only you, husband. Only you.” You snorted at his dramatics, wondering just what you were going to do with your silly, drama queen of a husband

Benjicot Blackwood

There was reason they called your husband ‘Bloody Ben’

You found this out when one day, he came limping home after solving a conflict in the Riverlands, covered in wounds and blood—so much blood

Thankfully, most of it wasn’t his but Benji still did have a few wounds that needed looking after

The Maester was busy, having been sent by your husband to tend to the other men, so you got the pleasure of dragging him to your chambers, making sure that he was clean before you began to stitch him up

The entire time you worked, Benji barely even flinched which amazed you

By the time that you were done with his top half, he’d barely said a word or complained which led to you kissing over a few of his stitches as a reward

“What was that for?” He asked in wonder, a small blush on his cheeks while you grinned

“That, my love, is for being such a good patient,” You told him cheekily, and you did not expect what Benji did next

Standing up, he loosened his trousers and then he grinned as he pointed at the area beneath his small clothes

“Well in that case, I’ll need plenty of kisses here, too. No promises that I won’t move if you touch me there though.”

“Benji!”

[thesummerestsolstice]

Notes on the Care and Keeping of the Peredhel, by Maglor Feanorian:

Need to eat three times a day, more if they can be persuaded (they do not seem to have the refined palettes elves do, and do not like my attempts at Valinorean fine dining)

They are very fond of maple syrup

One of the human healers told me they were "growing boys," unsure of the significance of this– a reference to their shapeshifting abilities, perhaps?

It does not appear that they will reach a full elvish height, though that may change

They can hear high tones that elves can, but humans can't

This bodes very well for their education in music theory

They do not appear to have the venom that some humans do, as evidenced by the fact that both Mae and I have been bitten several times with no ill effect

Still, I am thankful that Finrod warned me of this human feature, as it has served me well in many battles

They have not bitten anyone in months, which I appreciate, especially given how sharp their teeth are

Boys said that they could talk to shadows– unsure whether or not they were just attempting to scare me (ask later? Bribe with maple syrup??)

They like having their hair brushed, but do not like any of the scented hair oils we have at the fortress

They refuse to eat bird meat; unsure of why but I won't push

Elros prefers wooden toys, Elrond fabric ones, and neither of them is fond of metal

They grow faster than elves, but are still too young to begin intensive battle training, Maedhros

They are very sensitive to the cold, ensure that they have ample blankets and cloaks, especially in winter

Feel much better after spending time with them– those who spent time around Luthien reported similar effects

They appear to appreciate being pat on the head

Based on information by uncle Arfin (regarding Eonwe), this is common amongst Maiar

I've only had them two years, an incredibly small time in the face of the centuries I've lived, but if anything happened to them I would kill everyone in this fortress and then myself

[levissslutt]

ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕟𝕘𝕖 𝕞𝕪 𝕞𝕚𝕟𝕕

Jey Uso x black fem

Warnings: 18+ smut

Word count : 3.4k

Enjoy : )

My heels echoed off the walls as I clicked down the hallway, pausing in front of his door. Before I could raise my hand up to knock on the door, it swung open revealing a shirtless, tired looking Jey. I tried my best to keep my eyes only on his, but good lord he was fine.

Jey and I had been working together for 5 years now and every single time I saw him, it took my breathe away. He was sweet and gentle despite the persona he has to push for the crowd. A teddy bear If you will. 

"There's my girl, I been looking for you", he grinned. My girl ? Did he really just call me that. My heart fluttered as I stepped around him into his changing room. "I been meaning to ask you about something." His previous smirk fading a bit, but not all the way gone. "How do you feel about coming to Cali with me, nothing crazy just my peoples getting together for a cookout." 

I took a seat on the couch that lined the back wall of his room, pretending to think, lifting my chin up and tapping with my index finger. That earned me a slight chuckle from Jey. "Stop playing, my peoples already love you, even though yo ass playing." He mumbled the last bit, but I still heard it. I knew what he was referring to, I wasn't slow and I knew he wasn't either. 

--

I think we fell for each other the second I rounded the corner and head butted him by accident the first day we met. Literally and physically. I was all, but running to a meeting I was late to so the impact of my big ass head sent us both tumbling to the floor, and yet all he was doing was laughing. All 32 teeth showing. He smelled like shea butter, cedar-wood and warm hugs, and the second he helped me off the floor I fell into daze when I looked into those beautiful chocolatey eyes. 

Never in my life would I describe a person they way I described Jey. Everything about him made every single one of my senses light on fire when I was near him. He was so gentle and kind with me and so incredibly patient. I was so sure of what I liked. My entire life Ive only been with women. I expected myself to end up with a women, until i met him, Jey. I was too stubborn to admit it to myself, and even though he knew it I wouldn't admit it to him either, just how badly I wanted him.

He knew me so incredibly well. Like he knew me before I did and it drove me insane. He checked up on me and gave me little gifts. Not a day has gone by when he has not said good-morning or goodnight to me. That man makes sure the oil in my car is always changed, and rotates my tires for me. Hell he puts gas in my car.

He sees me. He cares about me

In the five minutes i’ve been in the room he has yet to take his eye off me, caressing every inch of my body with his eyes. Undressing me. He came and sat next to me on the couch, eyes never leaving mine. “I’m fr Maya I’m tired of playing games, I need you.” His eyes locked on mine. My breathe caught in my throat, but I couldn’t look away. He brushed his finger tips on my upper thigh in a swift motion.

Anndd there went my resolve.

I suddenly stood, walking over to the table to the right of us leaning my back against it. I was trying to steady my breathing,but he was on my heels. “Look at me pretty girl.” He whispered, my eyes lazily raised meeting his penetrating gaze. His hands rested lightly on my waist.

In that moment looking up at him I knew. He was the only person Ive ever wanted so badly. My eyes flickered to his lips, and of course he noticed because he dipped his head to meet my gaze, grinning. Those brown eyes, always knowing.

Tears stung in my eyes. I didn’t know if I was more upset at the fact that I was about to cry or that he can see right through me. I can’t hide anything. Even though we’ve never once had a conversation about our feeling our future, the lingering glances, and soft touches, told us more than we needed to know about each other.

“Jey I-“

Before I could finish he kissed me. Slow, soft yet full of passion and possessiveness. His hands tightening against my waist, pulling me flush to his body. When I first realized, I froze into the kiss. He’s kissing me. For just a second that’s how we stayed, lip locked and unmoving. 

Everything I ever thought about myself was flushed down the drain when I met Jey. How do you explain that to people. “Oh yea Ive was a lesbian my whole life, and then one day I wasn’t….who knew.” On one hand I didn’t care what people thought about me, if you fall in love with someone you can’t help who it is. And then on the other hand I was embarrassed.

Embarrassed about the feelings, embarrassed about the way everyone around us knew, and most of all embarrassed at myself for falling for a man. What thee fuck. But none of that mattered right now. What mattered was him, and his lips on mine. He kissed me like I would disappear at any second. He kissed me like he’d waited a hundred lifetimes for me. 

Without another thought my hands trailed up his chest and hooked around his neck. He smiled into the kiss, pulling me closer if that was even possible. Our lips moved in synch, his hands roamed my backside, eventually he lifted me and sat me on the table, pulling me right to the edge, with me thighs on either side of him. He pulled back for a second, staring at me. Asking for my permission. I gave it to him without hesitation, wanting nothing more than him, fuck all the other thoughts I previously had. 

Fuck every thought ever, actually.

His lips found my neck leaving tiny kisses up and down the right side. He flicked his tongoue over the sensitive spots he just kissed, leaving a trail across my collar bone, to the other side. Repeating the same motions.

At this point I was completely breathless, squirming under his touch. His hands never left my ass just resting there as he kissed me. Devoured me. “Hold still mama, lemme taste you please.” His voice was low and laced in lust, his words caused my legs to squeeze against him. His big hands slid from my ass to my upper thigh, pushing up the tight dress I had on up even further. His lips found mine again as his hands hooked around my underwear. 

He gently pulled them off with one hand, slightly lifting me with the other. After he tossed them he faced me again pulling me by my thighs even closer to him. I leaned back for him, eagerly. His breathes came out short and shallow as he had a full view of me.

“You are so beautiful .” He whispered just low enough for me to hear, right against my thigh, replacing his words with wet open mouthed kisses. My hips bucked up slightly, wanting attention. He gave into what I wanted, attaching his mouth to me. I gasped, back arching. His hands held my thighs in place as his tongue found my folds. 

His tongue flicked over my sensitive bud, moving in slow circular motions. He watched me hungrily from where he was. My hands gripped his forearms, a moaning mess. 

Jey slid his hands from my thighs, up to my waist, continuing his slow circular motions. He was devouring my shit as if it was the last meal on earth. He came up for a second and leaned into my ear. "Baby, you gotta stay quiet, you gon have folks banging on my door." He finished the sentence with another wet sloppy kiss at the base of my ear. He shifted to hover right above my body, eyeing me like an animal.

"Look at me", he said, one of his hands rested on my inner thigh, the other he used to lift my chin to kiss him. Our lips connected in a wet kiss that tasted of my essence. He kissed me slowly, his lips parting slightly after each kiss, almost as if he was holding himself back.

His fingers found my soaked clit, working in the same motions his tongue was. "Jeyy", his name came out in breathless gasps. " Yes mama." His lips were so soft, not leaving an area untouched. "I need you, I need you so bad." I breathed out against him.

Something in him must've snapped when I said that. He picked me up and over his shoulder in a swift motion. He laid me on the couch spreading me open, like a treasure chest. He unbuckled the zipper on his jeans, only now did I realize the bulge that had accumulated over the past few minutes. " Fuccck girl, you driving me crazy."

His eyes were wild, lips wet. His hair now in a messy array of curls. 

He pulled his pants and boxers down revealing the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. He was thick and veiny, tip shining in his own essence, just for me. He stood at attention for me too, so pretty. I didn't even wait for him to tell me what to do. I sat up dropping onto the floor and crawling onto my hands and knees right in front of him. 

"You liked women all this time yet you ready to suck my dick, look at yo fine ass." He was leaned back onto the couch now, his lower half completely exposed. That comment damn near made me stand up, glaring at him from the same position, his head cocked back in a obnoxious laugh. "Yo ass can front all you want, my love, but it’s just me and you.” He grinned, eyeing you from where he sat.

I pushed myself onto him, hands at the base of his dick. My tongue swirled around him, his yes fluttered shut immediately reveling in the pleasure. Since he just laughed in my face like that I needed him to come undone for me. He was wrapped around my finger, but I was about to wrap these lips around him in a way he'd never forget. Both sets.

I continued swirling my tongue around his tip, keeping one had at the base, he was slightly trembling under me. All those smart ass comments now gone, replaced with breathless gasps. "Fuck girl, that shit feels so good." He twitched in my mouth as I continued swirling his tip. My hands slid onto his thighs, I attempted to take him all in, but as soon as his tip grazed the back of my throat I gagged so loud, he popped his eyes open to the sound. His lust filled eyes found my tear streaked face, cocking his head back he let out another loud laugh. " You aint ready for that yet baby, come here." 

My cheeks flushed, "shut up, I tried", he chuckled as he pulled me into his lap. "Yes you did, thank you my sweet girl." Butterflies. Those pet names he gave me sent chills down my spine. He was eyeing me now, amusement flickered behind those brown orbs. "You ready for me?" His voice was soft and breathy. He waited for me all this time, without pushing me or overstepping. And now he had me all to himself.

"Just go slow please, Josh." My voice was hushed. I wanted him, but it didn't take away from my heartbeat hammering in my chest. His eyes softened, grin fading at the use of his real name. " I gotchu mama, Im not got hurt you." He tapped his member on your backside as he slid his thumb across your bottom lip. He lifted me slightly to angle himself at my entrance, pressing lightly. My breathe caught in my throat as I felt the stretch, his thumb never moving from my face, caressing me. He slid in deeper, stretching me more, the pain was unbearable for a second "Stop, Josh" I breathed out pushing him back a little, he halted his movements immediately. "Your doing so baby, look at me." 

My eyes shifted to his, fresh tears threatening to fall. He held his hand in place on my face, but he didn't budge, he waited for my permission. He wasn't even halfway in and I was already asking him to stop, but he didn't care. He sat still and unmoving like he had all the time in the world. Waiting for my permission.

After a few moments I gave it to him again and he continued to slide into me with ease. He groaned as he got deeper and deeper. Filling me up. The pain was intense. It didn't feel good, but it also felt amazing in the weirdest way. One last soft thrust of his hips and he was all the way inside me. His tip was kissing my spot deliciously.

"Good god." Was all he could breathe out. His hands sliding from my face to my ass and mine around his neck, we pulled each other in impossibly close. He guided me up slowly and back down at the same pace. My nails were digging into his tribal ink, but he didn't seem to care. My face next to his as he continued the slow pace. He was filling me up in a way I’ve never felt before. I’ve never felt pleasure or pain like this. It was addicting.

My walls stretched and pulsed around him with each small thrust. "This all I wanted right here" his voice was low against my cheek. Who knew Id give into him on a random Monday night. Taking him completely raw. His hands gripped my backside guiding me painfully slow. He wasn't in no rush, he watched me with close intensity in between stolen kisses. Our hearts racing against each other. 

His pace quickened, he lifted me higher coming down further, making a soft smacking noise. I wrapped around him perfectly as if we were made for each other. His hands held me steady in place as his pace quickened. I was leaning into his chest, hands tangled in his soft curls. At this point I was all but screaming in his ear.

Any pain I felt was replaced, by pleasure. He fucked me slow intentional looking me in my eyes with each stroke. I couldn't look away It was like he had me in a trance. He was fucking me hard now, and fast, pace was relentless. He nipped at my ear whispering the dirtiest nothings. "Take that shit baby, let me hear that pretty voice of yours."

" Josh- I- fucckk."

He smiled into the crook of my neck, nipping the skin there too. " Say my name again." Before I could get any words out he slapped my ass so hard it made me jolt. " Say it."

"Joshu- oh my god." I couldn't finish he was fucking the shit outta me now. The room was filled with the loud slaps of your things and my screaming. He no longer cared if someone came knocking. They would just have to mind they damn business. My slick walls were tightning against him , causing him to grunt.

He lifted me up, placing me back down on the couch on my back. He continued his unforgiving pace, snapping his hips forward. He pinned my legs to the couch with one arm, the other resting on my chest. His eyes never once left mine. I couldn't tear mine away either, watching him destroy me like this was pure cinema. The way his caramel skin glistened with sweat as he fucked me on this couch. The way his grills shined when he bit his lip, was making me feral.

My hands clawed at his arms looking for some stability. Until he shifted, pressing his hands into my lower abdomen. I thrashed underneath him, a wicked smile forming on his face.

"Joshua fuck me right there oh my god." My eyes were now clenched shut, as my world was being rocked. " You just don't know how fucking good you look right now, fuck." His pace causing him to grunt after each word. I was unraveling underneath him and he felt it. My insides were burning with a sensation I can't describe, all I knew is I didn't want him to stop. "Right there baby right there fuck me right there." My words came out breathless as he continued to fuck me. "Im cumming baby- fuck- take me pretty girl- fuckkkk." Joshua was a mess, his hair clung to his forehead, his pace was sloppy. his hands wrapped around my things holding them up as he slammed into my pussy. 

His breath was jagged breathing hard and loud. He sounded so fucking good. "Ian never lettin yo ass go, this my pussy." His voice cracked as he released inside me. I wasn't far behind him, but he hadn't even faltered his pace. He fucked us through our orgasm, his tip hitting the perfect spot. My vision went blurry from tears. I was clawing at his back, screaming. "JOSHUA."

--

I laid there for a second, trying to pull myself together. "You ok pretty girl?" The man who had collapsed next to me whispered ever so softly in my ear.

"Mhmm." Was all I could get out, a stupid smiled plastered on my face. Josh grinned too, pulling me on top of him. "I love you Joshu-"

"YES GAWD I KNEW IT." He cut me off before I finished the 'ah' at the end of his name. I lazily smacked his chest "Shut up before I take it back." He smacked my ass sending another jolt of pleasure through my body, causing me to whimper against him. " I love yo ass too girl."

He finished with the sweetest kiss to my lips.

[callsign-swan]

Not Your Alpha (Yet)

They want each other, so why is she sleeping with his teammate?

Alpha!Oscar piastri x omega!reader, slight lando norris x reader

Warnings: smut, abo dynamics

"Don't." She tugged his hair, his lips mere inches away from her neck. Teeth pointed, ready to sink into her flesh and mark her as his.

A whimper left his lips, a pathetic whine only the most powerful Omega could pull from an Alpha. Instead, his forehead met her shoulder as his thrusts became rutting and desperate.

His hips snapped against her, shaking her entire body. Her back arched off of the sofa, fingers desperately clutching at his curls.

When she came, she didn't cry out his name. One final gasping breath as he pulled out and finished on her stomach.

It was rare for Omegas to get pregnant outside of their heat, impossible when they were laying with a Beta. Maybe Lando was just overly cautious.

Trying not to pull a face, her fingers touched the globs of cum on her stomach. "Get me a towel or something," she mumbled and Lando stood to obey.

God, she stank like him now. But his scent was more muted than that of an Alpha. All she had to do was accidentally brush up against his teammate or one of the Alpha engineers on her way out and she would be fine.

Swallowing, Lando handed her a roll of toilet paper. "Was that good?" He asked, a nervous side of him the rest of the world didn't get to see.

She ripped a bit of toilet paper away from the roll. "Yeah, Lan. It was fine," she said as she began cleaning herself up. Fuck, she would need a shower as soon as she got out of there.

"Just fine?"

She didn't mean to roll her eyes at him. "Jesus fuck, I finished, didn't I?" She barked, tossing the used toilet roll into the bin.

A breath left Lando's lips. "Yeah," he mumbled. "You did."

"Then, obviously, it was good."

She stood, overly conscious of the time as she grabbed her clothes. No goodbye or anything as she grabbed her purse and headed out of his drivers room.

They weren't serious enough for that.

Her hands were in the pocket of her pink jacket. She made her way through the garage, head ducked slightly. Nobody really needed to know why she was there, after all.

But then she spotted him.

Going out of her way, she moved closer. He pulled off his headset as she approached, abandoning the conversation. But he didn't smile, didn't do much of anything at all.

Still, no matter how much he pretended he didn't care, she knew she had him wrapped around her little finger.

"Oscar." A coy smile played on her lips as she stepped towards him.

He breathed in deep before he narrowed his eyes at her. "You smell like..."

"Sex? Beta cum? Your teammate?"

His cheeks flushed red and he couldn’t meet her gaze. "Yeah, that," be muttered under his breath.

When she stepped closer to him, Oscar didn't move. He didn't step away from her, didn't get the space he so desperately needed.

Pressing her face against his neck, she breathed in deep. "Thanks, Osc!" She cried and retreated.

But Oscar grabbed her hand and pulled her back. "You can't keep using my scent to hide the fact that you're sleeping with Lando," he said. "Your dad isn't gonna buy it forever."

Placing her hands on his shoulders, she grinned at him. The kind of grin that had his stomach rolling slightly. "If you want me to stop, just say so," she mused, moving her hand to play with his hair. "An Omega needs her Alpha, after all."

Flesh beneath his hands, when did he place them on her hips. "I'm not your Alpha."

They were so close, one move and their noses were almost touching.

She released a hum. "Not yet."

Letting go of him, she stepped away from him. Oscar watched as she went, hands shoved into her pocket as she made her way back to the Aston Martin garage. Back to her father.

It wasn't like Oscar hadn't thought about it before, taking her on as his Omega. Taking it on, made it sound like a chore. But it wouldn't be a chore, Oscar knew. No, he'd be lucky to have her, for her to wear his mark.

He just had to tell her.

The only problem was, Oscar only ever saw her after she'd got done with Lando. After she'd drowned herself in the scent of him, of his cum. The scent burnt his nostrils, but Oscar let her close, let her use him for his own scent.

There was something about knowing she was walking around the paddock with his scent on her. Other Alphas took one whiff of her and they knew just how she should belong to.

Him.

She should belong to him.

A/n: okay ik I said I'm getting out of the f1 game but I just want this bunny boy so bad 😭

[klausysworld]

can u write something about damon just being soft and whipped for his girl. just need a damon fluffy fic rn 😩😩

Everything to him

Damon stood with his arms around his girl’s waist as she finished her makeup in the mirror. His chin on top her head as he watched as she layered the romantic red lipstick onto her soft plump lips. He could only hope to have their prints all over him by later that night as she looked herself over.

“You look perfect” he mumbled when she frowned a little and tilted her head. “There’s absolutely nothing I would change, in fact although the makeup has you looking all this much sexier, even without you wear the face of an angel” he purred seeing her lips lift into a smile and her head turn to look at him.

“I’d say flattery gets you no where but it seems to have gotten you rather far as of now” she lifted her arms over his head and round his neck while batting her lashes as him. He pulled her closer so his lips ghosted hers and his eyes dropped at the feeling of her fingers in his hair.

“I only tell the truth to you” he whispered gravelly and she hummed in reply, scratching at his head slowly knowing how it affected him. His eyes shut and pressed his forehead to hers “god I love you” he muttered and her smile grew

“I love you Damon Salvatore” she grinned and he tilted his head slightly to have his lips against hers. He allowed her to take the lead, moving her mouth against his and Brighton’s her other hand up to cup his face as both his hands slid up her back to hold the tops of her arms.

“You’re going to ruin my hair” he muttered and she laughed lightly against his lips before pulling back to look at him, her fingers running through each lock

“I like it messy” she decided before brushing it through with her hands and positioning it in a way that she found suited him best. His eyes glossed over as he watched her loving smile and felt her gentle touches. Her fingertips dances down the back of his neck and round to the front before she adjusted his leather, pulling it tighter on him and wetting her painted lips. Her palms smoothed down his chest, her deep red nails dragging down his black t-shirt before pulling up the hem only to groan at his display of abs. Her thumb tracing his happy trail and stopping at the top of his low-hanging jeans. Her fingers skimming over his belt in a teasing manner.

“Y/n…” he muttered feeling his body getting aroused by her actions “we have a reservation”he reminded, a breath of air leaving him as her hand cupped his crotch through his trousers “baby…” he whispered “you can almost never get a table there”

She sighed and gave him a light squeeze, listened to him grunt and then fixed his shirt and stepped back admiring him “okay…but after…” she pouted and he nodded eagerly

“After you can do anything you want.”

“Anything?”

“Anything.”

She bit her bottom lip gently and held her hand out which he quickly took with a lustful smirk in place.

He kept a hand in hers the whole drive there, only breaking the hold for a second as they got out the car before an arm was back round her hips. She smoothed her cherry coloured dress down, adjusting it to rest a little lower on her thighs as it had ridden up in the car. His gaze dropped to her heels which make a distinct ‘click’ with each step she took. His eyes followed back up her gorgeous legs, along her beautiful figure and back to her face. Watching as she spoke to the waiter at the front who was finding their reservation in the system with a bashful blush on his cheeks as she flashed her pearly white teeth. Damon knew how easy it was to get lost in her charm.

He was barely aware of the world around them as he followed her to their table by the window, overlooking the sunset which was already meeting the stary night sky. Menus were slipped into both their hands and wine glasses filled as though the staff just knew what they would order.

She looked to him with admiration in her eyes and his lips curled up “I can’t believe you managed to book us in here” she whispered and he smiled back

“I can’t believe you almost had us miss our time slot, we only just made it”

“I’m sure I would’ve made up for it”

his mouth formed a lip lifted grin in response and he glanced down to his wine glass “I don’t doubt that, not for even a second” he muttered under his breath and she offered him another award winning smile which consequently brought his own upon his lips.

Her foot slipped out of her heel to leisurely brush along his leg as their food came and they engaged in pointless yet meaningful conversation and ate their meals. And for one of those rare moments, he felt like he was human again. He felt no urges, no lust for blood or chaos, he was calm. Happy.

He loved Y/n in ways he had never explored. Ways he wasn’t sure how to but he did them regardless and if he was doing it wrong, she didn’t tell him. She just helped him feel it, she chose him first and loved him and solely him and it was all he had ever wanted. All he had ever needed.

His mind often wondered at times like this, just listening to her voice and watching her lips move, and then the way her eyes would shine under the light and her hair would bounce over her shoulders as she waved her hands around in unnecessary gestures.

He knew he was smiling like a teenage boy with a crush but he couldn’t help it, even when she stopped talking and just grinned back at him knowingly. Her hand finding his and squeezing gently as their desserts were placed before them.

“If you’d like…we could skip dessert” Damon whispered suggestively making her smile

“Oh but then we’d have wasted our reservation” she sighed and leaned back in her seat, digging into her sweet dish and watching his eyes darken over slightly before he looked down to his food and begrudgingly ate the heavenly portion.

By the time they had both finished, paid and gotten to the door, a horrific amount of rain was bouncing off the ground.

Y/n turned her head to him before swiping the car keys from his hand and dashing for car making him let out a laugh and chase after her, completely forgetting his vampire abilities and just managing to get into the car before she locked it. Both of them looked at each other with large smiles on their faces before each bursting into fits of laughed and flicking their hands at one another to throw rain-water on their faces.

Eventually they got home and Damon had he run his arms, spinning in circles and running for the ridiculously big bathtub so they could soak together in the warmth of both the water and each others arms.

[zalayni]

𓂃 💫 ੭ ᝢ SUGAR ༉

spendin' all my nights alone waiting for you to call me. you're the only one I want by my side when I fall asleep 💤

❛ pairing: earth42!miles x reader

❛ summary: after a long day there's nothing better than having your lover help you as you do your night time routine, no matter how girly it might be.

❛ warnings: the lower caps are intended. reader uses she/her pronouns.

❛ author's note: this is supposed to be longer but I lost everything and had to restart it from scratch. also this isn't proofread what so ever. I live like a warrior i'll die like a warrior 🫡🫡(I'm too lazy to read alat)

if anybody told Miles from when he was new to being prowler that he would be sitting in his room, wiping a girls makeup off specifically HIS girls makeup off he'd just tell them. “man you're buggin.”

yet here he was.

after a long day of standing around with music blasting in your ear while people laughed in the background you were finally back alone with Miles. it was silent but at the same time it was comforting. Miles was there kneeling infront of you, wiping your makeup off as you sat on the vanity chair he had bought and installed in his room along with the hello kitty mirror he saw people hyping up on tiktok.

don't get it mixed up though Miles would never use that vanity, he bought it for you. he filled up the drawers with makeup and products he'd see you use just for you. he did all of this because all he wished was for you to feel at home with him.

he went through the hard work of building and putting up the parts by himself as he was too embarrassed to ask uncle aaron or his mom for help. what would uncle aaron say if miles would randomly come in his home saying “help me build this pretty pink and white vanity I just bought.”

you always crashed at his place or miles would crash at yours. either way he always insisted on helping you with your nightly routine.

"all done Mami, now go wash up. I'll get your pajamas from the laundry." Miles attempted to get up before getting stopped by your hands pulling him down to peck his cheek. you pulled away while muttering a thank you.

Miles smirked at you while getting up.

"yeah, no problem. anything for my girl."

miles was the sweetest person to ever come into your life. who knew Brooklyn's number one killer would be such a lover boy? maybe it's because of the fact that he's always been a mamas boy growing up.

you finished up your shower, wrapping the towel around your body before a knock echoed through the bathroom. "ma, can I come in? I've got your pajamas." you quickly opened the door to see Miles standing there with your pink pajama set in his hands.

he stared at your figure watching as water droplets still slowly rolled down your body.

"Morales you're staring at me." you playfully said while side eyeing before taking the clothes out of his hands. Miles huffed and grabbed you by the waist, pulling you closer silencing your giggles with a kiss.

"whatever ma you're trippin' I wasn't even staring you're just reading into it too much. even if I was can you blame me? I bagged such a pretty girlfriend."

Miles eyed you down once again before leaning close to your ear. "maybe even future wife."

ugh what a tease. yet everytime he did this you felt butterflies in your stomach.

he chuckled before exiting the bathroom leaving you there staring at his back, stunned. you shook it off with a laugh and got dressed so you could be back in his arms.

you brushed your teeth and did your skincare that Miles would always restock on. you felt bad as they were pricey but he would always insist on buying them for you.

you hanged the towel on the rack to dry and exited the bathroom, practically speed walking to Miles room. once you opened the door you were met with Miles laying comfortably on his bed with nothing but a pair of grey sweatpants on. He had his arms up with his phone in his hands scrolling on whatever socials he was checking up on.

you closed his bedroom door before crawling in between his arms, laying your head on his chest. Miles sighed and put down his phone, wrapping his arms around you. He pecked the top of your head making you look up at him. "long day?" you asked him making miles suck his teeth.

"tch. ma you were there with me, yes the function was fun but of course my mom had to make us stay till past midnight talking about some ‘hold on we'll leave after I'm done talking.’" you laughed at him mimicking his mom's voice whole repeating what she would keep saying during the function.

mrs morales loved you so she told Miles to invite you to their family's function as his date which you gladly said yes to.

the day was long and your feet might've ached from all the standing as every seat was taken up, your stomach might've hurt from all the aunties insisting on you to eat more but at the end of day you got to see Miles smile, and it wasn't because of you. for some that was the rarest sight to witness.

after the death of his dad Miles drifted away from everyone but here he was laughing and bickering with his favourite cousins. he was actually playing his favorite sport, basketball for once and laughing whenever he'd steal the ball from his cousins.

you witnessed Miles grow as a person and slowly pick up broken pieces. it was truly heart warming.

here you laid in the dead of night, ear on Miles chest hearing his soft heartbeat with your eyes closed. you were calm yet your head was racing with thoughts. you decided to break the silence after awhile of listening to his breathing pattern and heartbeats. "hey Miles, I'm not sure if you're asleep but I have a question."

it was silent for awhile making you think Miles fell asleep before you could ask it but then he answered. "go ahead Mami, I'm listening."

"would you give the world to me?" you looked up at him only to see his half lidded eyes staring down at you. "mhmm no."

your heart dropped at his answer, lips close to quivering, but the hard beating of your heart slamming against your chest was calmed down with what you heard him say afterwards.

"hermosa, why would I do that when there's other planets too?"

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

please do not steal, copy, translate or put my work on any other apps. thank you for reading 🫶

artwork in header made by koscribbls on instagram

[ddragonqueenn]

To Take Care of You

Word count: 1,280

Summary: People fade from his life as fast as crops when out of season, when confronted with the fragile mortality of those he knows now, Aventurine panics. (Or, you pass out in front of him and get nursed back to health. Badly, but helped all the same.)

Tags: Mostly fluff, but it's got a sad air to it, Aventurine carries the misery with him always, the tragedy is his appeal, reader is like an irate cat who doesn't want to be held, Aventurine is trying to be silly about how much he wants to hold reader, you're not sly bitch we know you're down bad

Notes: my beta reader said it was a fun and light read, but still goes into the emotional details that I love about him. So. Have fun

Would you consider yourself a sickly person? Not by any means, no… Sure, there's an ache when you first awake, and oftentimes your joints disagree with exertion- disagree loudly. With pain. But overall, you don't suffer from anything but being lazy, truly. The tired fog is because you yearn for bed (not from a breakfast skipped days in a row. And a lunch skipped… some days you pass on dinner, too. Definitely not), sympathy should seldom be given to those who refuse to better themselves.

Aventurine chatters as you pick at your meal, paid for by the chirping peacock across. He invited you out for a bite to eat, saying he got a bonus at work and wants to spoil his dearest friend.

…You feel just a little faint, but it's brushed off easy with a bite, “...Really? Pearl voted to keep you?” You comment; something about a trial by the other Stonehearts that Aventurine had to go through after his work trip.

“Yeah- I was shocked too!” He nods, shifting up his collar. The conversation continues, Aventurine's work stories make interesting topics- though, sometimes he must be lying, an Emanator of Nihility? THEY don't gaze at anyone…

Your legs feel strangely weak as you stand, a sudden daze blurring up your vision as the table and chair become convenient supports for your stumbling body- Aventurine guides you back to the chair, hand resting on your shoulder, “Hey- hey, friend, don't stand if you can't. How about this-” the concern fades to an salesman-like voice, though his worry remains an undertone, “I could carry you back to my car! Bridal style, nice and romantic!” He teases.

You shake your head- and quickly regret the decision. Strange, dizziness like this shouldn't last too long, and you even ate something today! But, you should be in good health, therefore, you push his hand away and force yourself to stand, “I can walk-”

A statement which is quickly proven false as you eat dirt. Or… concrete. Wood? It's hard to tell what you're now laying against, but it's certainly something more solid than how you feel. Or, how you would feel, if your consciousness didn't slip as fast as your feet.

Aventurine stares down at your limp (dead?) body, frozen with a stupid smile before he crouches down, “...Friend?” He asks, mumbling a quiet apology as he presses two fingers to your pulse, the tension leaving his shoulders as he feels a consistent and steady flow of blood just under. He sighs, standing up and tapping his foot, “Oh… what to do with you, dearest troublemaker…?”

Opting to pick you up, as he suggested earlier, Aventurine leans down and scoops you into his arms, carrying you out to his car.

He stands over your bed. Sits down. Stands. Paces. Stands. He can't hold still, worry makes him sick, but he's worried over you being sick. You're hot to the touch; Aventurine replaces the towel he's set over your forehead (ignoring the fact that he did so only 3 minutes ago, his hands need to do something), wiping off his hands before he checks his phone, rereading Ratio's advice.

His eyes scan over the words from the doctor, lowering his phone to look between the text and your limp, ill body. Aventurine grits his teeth- you've been ill, but you haven't been eating. You passed out from the lack of food, a simple cold like yours won't make a person faint, but both are mixing together to make your condition much worse.

“...Skipping meals,” the hypocrite mutters to himself, “What were you thinking…” He shakes his head, standing up to go cook something.

You wake up to the smell of… soup. Soup, an utter mountain of blankets, and the walls of your room. It's a struggle to sit up, and the second you do Aventurine practically pushes you down, “No no no- stay down, it's not good for you,” he chides, “You know what is ideal for you? Liquids, salt, and actually eating a proper meal.”

You stare at him for a minute, “...How am I supposed to eat while lying down?”

…Aventurine blinks. He reaches over to tug down the blankets with a huff, “Touché. But after you finish, lie right back down- and don't forget to drink water, and stay under all of those blankets. I'm going to leave and buy some medicine for your cold.”

You swallow a spoonful of soup, chewing on a softened potato, “...I'm not dying,” you deadpan.

“You don't know that-” He toys with his gloves, tugging them down over his hands, “A common cold is much more deadly than anyone assumes. Finish that, your body needs it.”

You resent, not quite in a fighting mood. Picking through the soup, it seems to be some pre-packaged beef broth with a mix of potatoes, carrots, chicken. No noodles, though. Granted, the only kind of noodle in the house is spaghetti. You take another spoonful as Aventurine closes the door behind him.

You could've sworn you saw his hand shake for a moment.

Aventurine drops a bag near comically filled with medicines. He hands you most of the strange remedies, even child’s cough syrup and regular cough syrup- which you try to push off, before hacking up some of your own phlegm.

Sorting through his medicine, you end up taking a painkiller, the aforementioned cough syrup, and he manages to talk you into an antihistamine. Aventurine smiles, leaning back and cleaning his hands like he just finished with hard labor, “So, feeling better?”

“I just took them.” You lean over to grab your water bottle, taking another sip. Aventurine practically deflates, crossing his arms, before leaning forward to fuss with the way the blankets sit over your lap.

He brushes a gloved hand down your hair, smoothing it down, “You can't fault me for wanting my dearest friend to recover fast, can you? You wound my poor, aching heart.” He closes his eyes, clutching his own chest as though his heart were truly damaged by words alone.

“I don't need you to take care of me,” Your hands tense over the metal, head turning to the side, away from his hand, “I'll recover on my own. I don't need someone to dote on me.”

Aventurine slides his hand down to the opposite shoulder, pushing you back down to the bed. He leans down, pressing his face against your neck, down to your collar, “But isn't it nice? I bought out a whole pharmacy for you- well, not quite… But still, I'm treating you like royalty!”

Your hands push against his shoulders, “I don't want pampering, I don't want a pile of medicine I'll never use, I don't want to be treated like a hapless maiden in a tower!”

To your surprise, your pushing gets Aventurine to lift up. His expression is something you've never seen- on him that is- upset and conflicted. He blinks, stutters, stares, deciding to lean down once again, this time pressing his face to your stomach. Your strength fails you as you can barely push him off, his hands squeeze you before suddenly moving to a hug instead.

“...Just let me take care of you,” Aventurine pleads. It's weak, his voice is pathetic and small, you can feel his left hand shake as he grasps you like you'll fade into dust otherwise, “Please.”

He reaches up, interlocking fingers and- you don't have the heart to decline him further. You lightly squeeze his hand, “...Fine.”

You've recovered in due time, though… You stare at the very entertaining message from the doctor, containing an image of a poor, sickly Aventurine and text informing you that he had passed out.

[gay-dorito-dust]

Dick loves your plushie collection.

He doesn’t find it embarrassing in the slightest! If anything he finds it more offensive that you’d think it embarrassing having plushies as an adult. After he himself has a plush bunny dressed in his nightwing attire -escrima sticks and all- that he won at an arcade game a while back perched on the top of his bed back home.

He calls it dick jr and cuddles it when he has a rough night of crime fighting.

So he’s the last person to ever cast judgment on your plush collection.

If anything he lets his imagination run wild with them and takes full advantage of them. So if the instance came where you weren’t home, Dick would always send you photos and mini videos of him taking excellent care of a plush hare called Sir John Roderick Wellington the third by tucking him in bed at night, pretending to brush his teeth, etc

Or he’d make enact a photo shoot with a couple of them and send the results to you as your left asking where’d he manage to get all sorts of accessories for them…you’re still awaiting the answer to this day. Another thing he’d do with them is take them with him as company while he’s doing mundane chores in the apartment and act as though the plush is helping him.

You were quick to catch on that Dick having a hell of blast with it with how often he spammed your phone with a plethora of photos and videos that kept you up to date with the daily misadventures of your plushy. And yet you weren’t any better either as you kept them all in a album in your phone and are still wondering why your phone keeps informing you that you are running low on space…

Your favourite picture of your plushy was one where Dick had it tucked in bed, a picture of you on its lap, meanwhile Dick’s face could be seen peaking up from the bottom corner of the screen followed by the caption; ‘he misses you and can’t wait for you to come home and cuddle him. Oh and also me. :(

It’s became your Home Screen now and it was the best decision you’ve been made because it never failed to make you smile even on a bad day.

Jason loves it when you wear his clothes.

It’s free therapy for the man seeing you in his clothes and you can quote me on that.

He fucking loved coming home to see you do your own thing while looking all comfortable and relaxed in his shirts or hoodies doing so. For all Jason could ever want for you was for you to feel comfortable with him however you saw fit.

Also it gives him the more reason to stare at you shamelessly, well more than he did already, but you get the point. Jason is a simple man who’s not above letting it known how much he absolutely adores you.

So you wearing his clothes only added onto that adoration that he had for you. No one else could be more perfect in his eyes then you and he stands by that that statement.

‘You look perfect.’ -Jason

‘Jason, I’m wearing sweats and one of your shirts while eating pizza.’ -you

‘Yeah, perfect.’ -Jason

‘Doofus.’ -you, smiling.

Some days Jason would even go out of his way to leave his clothes on your side of the bed as a hint that he wants you to wear it for the day. Other days however he would be outright and blunt with the fact that he’d rather have you in his clothes than your own at this point.

‘Why are you wearing your clothes?’ - Jason

‘Because they’re my clothes and I feel bad wearing all of yours all the time.’ -you

‘Well I on the other hand don’t, take this shirt and go back into our bedroom and change.’ - Jason says as he takes off the shirt he was wearing and hands it to you, uncaring of the fact that he was shirtless in the living room.

‘You’re being dramatic Jason.’ - you as you take the warm shirt from his hands.

‘No I’m not, I just like you in my clothes a lot better than anything else.’ - Jason said, crossing his arms over his chest.

‘You’re getting jealous over clothes now?’ - you asked, raising a brow.

‘Yes.’ Jason responds instantly. ‘Now for the sake of my sanity go back and put my shirt on please.’

You kiss his cheek before leaving for the bedroom to change. ‘If you insist.’

‘I heavily insist chipmunk.’ - Jason says as he watched you walk away before following after to grab another shirt.

Jason loves it when you’re in his clothes. It’s his greatest strength and his greatest weakness.

[blueberrylemontea-fanfic]

Cassandra

Pairing: wolfstar x fem!reader

Summary: You get upset when Sirius flirts with someone else. You get into a fight. You make up.

Warnings: 18+, SMUT (threesome, slight dom!Remus), little bit of angst, arguing, readers exit gets blocked briefly

You were pissed.

Deep down, you knew you were overreacting, but you were still pissed.

You knew Sirius was a flirty person, always had been. And you knew he didn't mean it. It normally didn't bother you, but this time felt different.

You knew for a fact that he'd had a crush on Cassandra a while back. It also didn't help that she was kind of amazing, not to mention gorgeous…

You'd tried to get the image out of your head of Sirius leaning over her against the wall, laughing with her… But it was like it was tattooed on your corneas. It was all you'd been thinking about that afternoon.

It didn't help that you'd been studying with Remus in their dorm and that Sirius was acting completely oblivious. As well as annoying. He was restless, constantly distracting Remus and you from your work.

"Come oooon," he whined. "You've been at this all afternoon. Let's do something fun."

"Think you've had enough fun for the day," you muttered under your breath.

"What was that, love?" Sirius perked up.

"Nothing," you waved him off.

He raised an eyebrow as his eyes wandered over you.

It irrationally infuriated you that he'd only just noticed your mood.

"Everything alright, deary?"

You nodded. "Yeah, why wouldn't it be?"

Just because he noticed, didn't mean you wanted to talk about it.

Sirius knelt down in front of your chair. "You sure? You don't seem…"

"Seem what?" You snapped.

Remus put his book down at that. "Siri's right, love, you don't seem quite alright today. Anything you want to talk to us about?"

You let out a sigh. You really didn't like that Remi was getting caught in the middle of this, but you also really weren't ready to have this talk. "It's nothing, really, I'm fine."

"Hey, don't do that," you chastised as the boys exchanged a worried look. "You don't want to believe me, that's fine. I'll just go." You haphazardly gathered up your stuff and shoved it in your bag, ready to storm out.

"Oh, come on, deary, please don't leave." Sirius grabbed your wrist but you pulled out of his grip instantly.

"Please don't leave like this," he whispered.

"Just talk to us." The softness of him made your stomach drop, but you couldn't bear talking through these insecurities right now.

Remus brushed a lock of hair behind your ear. "You're worrying us a little bit, darling. Would you please stay and talk?"

You shook your head.

"Are you mad? Did we do something?" Sirius was getting desperate. He hated fighting with the people close to him.

You bit your tongue, willing your eyes not to well up. "I've got to go."

You crossed the dorm, but Sirius beat you to the door.

"Siri, get out of the way…" You sighed, but Sirius wasn't planning on moving any time soon.

"No. Not until you tell us what's going on!"

"Sirius…" Remus tried to intervene.

"No, Remi, she can't leave like this. There's clearly something going on."

You were starting to lose your patience. "Sirius, get out of my way."

"Not until you tell me what's wrong!" Sirius yelled.

"I don't have to tell you everything that goes on in my head, y'know? You're not entitled to my every thought!" You screamed back at him. You were about to lose your temper.

"Darling, I love you, and there's something wrong. I just wanna help. Just want you to be okay."

"I've told you, I'm fine. I clearly don't want to talk. Now step away from the goddamn door!"

You knew Sirius. He was not relenting. He had sunk his teeth in, and that meant he wasn't letting go. You also knew he was spiralling, going over all the worst case scenarios of how this could end. And if only that image of him and Cassandra hadn't been dancing in front of your eyes, you probably would have stopped to soothe him. But you couldn't bring yourself to do it, now.

You knew there was only one way you were going to get past him. And so, you whipped your wand out of your boot. "Don't make me do this, Sirius." You were almost pleading.

Sirius' confused, hurt look was a punch in the gut, but he really wasn't leaving you any other options.

"Y/n…" He started.

"I don't want to talk to you right now, Sirius. Now, for the last time, let me out of here."

Finally, Remus swooped in, pushing Sirius behind him and opening the door.

You silently stormed out the door, leaving your two bewildered boys behind.

***

You had ignored your boys all throughout the next day, rushing out of every class before they'd even packed their books.

You'd done a pretty good job of it, until there was a knock on the door of your dorm that evening, and you were greeted with two sheepish faces.

"Hi," Remus started tentatively.

"Hi."

"Can we talk?" You looked back into your dorm, which was decidedly not empty. "Are Prongs and Wormtail in?"

"They're in the common," Remus answered.

You nodded measuredly. "Alright, let's go to your dorm."

There had never been tension between you like there was now. It vaguely reminded you of before you got together, when being around each other was all tense and electric. Merlin, were you missing that electricity now...

You plopped down on Remus' bed, fiddling with your thumbs. "So..."

"I'm so sorry," Sirius burst out.

"Merlin, love, I'm so so sorry, I don't know what I was thinking." Sirius sunk down onto the floor in front of you.

"It's okay, Siri," you started, but he interrupted you. "It's not, though. That was not okay. I am truly sorry, love."

You ran your hand through his hair. "Apology accepted, Siri. I'm sorry I pulled my wand on you."

"Didn't leave you much of a choice, did I? I promise, nothing like that will ever happen again."

You nodded. "I know."

Remus sat down next to you. "It's alright if you don't want to talk, dove, we're certainly not looking for a repeat of yesterday, but we're still a little worried. I promise I won't ask again after this, but, is anything bothering you, dear?"

Now that you'd cooled down, you found it much harder to lie to your boys, but you felt so silly admitting that this whole thing happened because Sirius talked to another witch...

"It's stupid, really... I'm just overreacting..."

"Hey, love, anything you're feeling, you know we want to know."

You sighed, burying your head in your hands. "I guess I was feeling a little pissed off."

Sirius' arm wrapped around your shoulders as he sat down on your other side. "Did something happen?"

You cast a sideways glance his way. "This is gonna sound so silly... I just, I saw you talking to Cassandra Fieldwake."

Sirius just looked at you expectantly, still clueless.

"And I guess I just got a bit jealous, is all..."

"Wait, what?" Sirius' eyes went wide. "You were jealous?"

You shrugged. "Well, I mean... Cassandra's great and you used to carry a massive torch for her, and then the two of you looked so flirty, and I know, you're a flirty person, so I just need to get over it..."

"Woah, no," Sirius interrupted, "you don't have to get over anything. I'm sorry I made you feel this way, but, darling, you've got less than nothing to worry about. I am crazy about you."

"I know... I just got insecure," you shrugged. Instantly, your boys wrapped you in a giant hug. "We are so incredibly lucky to have you, darling, we'd be out of our heads to look elsewhere."

"Really?"

"Of course, darling. You're perfect. I haven't so much as thought of another girl since I first kissed you."

"Oh, come on, now you're exaggerating," you rolled your eyes.

"Moony?" Sirius called out.

"He has not shut up about you for the past year-and-a-half. It would've been seriously annoying if I hadn't been so completely head over heels for you as well," Remi smiled, making you blush.

"You know what, Pads?" The drop in Remus' voice caught you off guard.

"I think we need to remind our little dove that she's our number one girl."

Sirius eyes glinted mischievously. "Y'know what, Moony, I think you're right."

You gasped when both of them launched an attack on your neck. You never got used to their hands all over you, it felt spectacular every damn time.

Remus softly guided you onto your back. He kissed you so deeply it made your head spin.

Before you could open your eyes, Sirius took Remus' place. They did this often, but you could always tell.

Remus' hand snaked under your shirt, toying with your breasts before undoing your shirt. You unhooked your bra with one hand and quickly tossed it aside. Moments later, your boys were all over your chest. Merlin, they never stopped looking like they belonged in a porno with the way their backs arched as they ravaged your chest.

"Shirts," you moaned. "Shirts off, please."

"So needy," Moony chuckled, but he took his shirt and tie off immediately. He helped Sirius undo his tie, pulling him in for a kiss while he was at it.

Soon, you were all shirtless, and Remus and Sirius were back on you. Sirius' hand palmed your thighs, working his way up to cup your heat.

"Siri..." You moaned.

"Tell him what you want, love," Remus cooed in your ear.

"Fuck, Siri, I want you to touch me."

Sirius didn't move his hand. "Like this, dove?"

You groaned in frustration. "I want you inside of me," you sighed.

Remus bit your earlobe. "Beg him."

"Remi..." You whined.

"Don't test me, dove," his voice was low in your ear and sent a shiver down your spine.

"Please, Siri, please touch me, I need your fingers in me so badly, darling..."

Sirius groaned at your words, making quick work of discarding the remainder of your clothes. His finger trailed over you and he groaned again. "She's so wet, Remi, so pretty, you've got to see her."

But Remus was too busy lavaging your upper body with kisses. "Our girl's the prettiest," he said in between kisses. "She looks even prettier when she's cumming, though. How about you make our girl feel good, Pads."

Sirius licked his lips. "Gladly."

You gasped as two of his digits plunged into you. Sirius knew exactly what you liked, his fingers angled just so in that way that made your eyes roll to the back of your head. His tongue rolled over your clit and you grabbed onto his hair.

"Do that again, Siri," you mewled.

Sirius happily obliged. "Think you can take one more, love?"

You nodded.

Sirius' third finger stretched you out gloriously.

"You're taking him so well, dove. Such a good girl for us," Remus was whispering encouragements in your ear. "Is Pads getting you there, darling?" He didn't need an answer, he knew your body by heart, but he demanded one anyway.

"I'm so close, Remi. Siri, please don't stop."

"Wouldn't dream of it, darling." Sirius was hitting that exact spot in you, your hands clutching at the sheets. When he did that thing with his tongue again, you were done for. Your back arched of the bed as you came on Sirius' fingers.

"So damn beautiful, dove." Remus' voice sounded strained.

Sirius let you ride out your orgasm on his fingers before slowly pulling them out, holding them out for Remus, who sucked them into his mouth eagerly. "Taste so good sweetheart. Merlin, Pads, move over, gotta taste her."

And just like that, Sirius was cuddled next to you, while Remus knelt down at the edge of the bed, lapping you up hungrily.

"Mmm, Remy, slow down." You tugged on his hair. "Sensitive," you breathed out.

" 'M sorry, lovely, but you should see yourself... You're so damn irresistible." He dove right back between your legs.

You were used to reigning Remus in by his hair. You'd learned quickly that there was few things he liked better than getting his hair pulled. You were a moaning mess as Remus quickly brought you close another orgasm, and then kept you there.

"Remi..." You whined. "Remi, darling, please. Please!"

Remus' taunting eyes looked back at you. "Please what, love?"

"Please make me cum, Remi, please."

He smirked devilishly. "Soon."

His tongue was flush against you, you were struggling against him. "Hold her still, Pads." Remus growled. Sirius kissed you deeply before moving down to your hips, holding you down to the mattress as he kissed your lower stomach.

"Remi," your breath hitched in your throat, as Remus once again brought you right to the edge. "Please!"

But Remus was never one to give in to your pleas so easily. He was going to use you like his little plaything until he was satisfied, and then he would let you cum. There was nothing more for you to do but give in to him. You relaxed into his touch, your body completely at his mercy. Remus brought you back until all you could do was moan out the word please, tears rolling down your cheeks.

Sirius was whispering affirmations in your ear the entire time. "Such a good girl, love, doing so well. You're so good for us."

"Isn't she, Pads? Such a good girl," Remus smirked. "Does our good girl want to cum?"

"Yes!" You cried out. "Yes, please, Remi, please!"

Remus' tongue dug into you, and this time, he wasn't stopping until your nails were scraping his scalp, hips bucking against Sirius' grip. You threw your head back, a silent scream on your lips as your orgasm crashed into. You held Remus in place until your orgasm subsided, his soft kitten licks guiding you back to earth.

When you caught your breath, your boys were cuddling you, peppering soft kisses across your cheeks.

"Fuck me, darling..."

"So damn perfect."

You grabbed Remus' hair again as you pulled him in for a slow kiss. "I love you, Remi," you whispered.

"I love you, too, dove."

You turned to kiss Sirius as well. "I love you, Siri."

He smiled fondly at you. "I love you too, deary, so, so much."

You watched in awe as your two boys kissed each other, exchanging their own I love you's.

Sirius bent back over you, his nose rubbing against yours. "You know we're not done with you, right, deary?"

You gasped as they tossed you further onto the bed, landing on your stomach. Remus warm breath in your ear made you shiver.

"You didn't think we were passing up this chance to fuck you, did you, love?"

He playfully bit your earlobe as you giggled.

"You gonna fuck me good, Remi?" You challenged.

"You bet your ass, lovey."

You yelped as Remus' hand struck you across the bottom.

"We're going to make you feel so good." Sirius bit your bottom lip as he slid in beneath you. He gathered some of the wetness between your legs and spread it over his length. "Merlin, I can't wait to fuck you."

Before you could even say the words 'then don't', Sirius was pushing into you.

"Fuck, Siri!" You cried out.

Sirius moved slowly, letting you adjust to him while Remus sidled up against your back. "I love you, darling," he whispered as he slowly started working open your ass.

"I love you too, Remi," you moaned. "You too, Siri."

Sirius pulled you in for a kiss. He sucked on the sweet spot behind your ear as Remus slowly pushed inside you. You let out a sigh at the feeling. Whenever they were inside you, you felt so gloriously full that it made you forget why you were ever not fucking them.

"You guys feel so good, fuck, you make me feel so damn good, I love you so much." You moaned as they started moving into you.

"Fuck, Remi, I can feel you," Sirius groaned.

"Me too, Pads. Feels good."

They moved into you in unison, quickly setting a pace that was setting your skin on fire. But still, you wanted more. "Fingers," you managed to breath out.

Sirius sneered. "Would you look at that, Moony, our little dove's not satisfied until all her holes are stuffed full."

"Such a little whore," Remus laughed into your ear. He spanked your ass roughly. "Go on, Siri, give her what she needs."

Sirius held out two of his fingers, watching as you eagerly sucked them into your mouth. You sucked Sirius' fingers, wishing it was one of their cocks instead.

"Merlin,  Remi, look at her. She's taking me so well... I'm not gonna last much longer," Sirius' breathing was getting shallow.

Remus grabbed your hips, fucking you into them. You were so impossibly full. Your moans no longer made it out of your throat, they just had you choking on Sirius' fingers.

Remus grabbed Sirius' free hand and put in on your hip, replacing his own hand. Sirius' fingers dug into you as he desperately tried to hold off his orgasm. Remus noticed, reaching around you to grab Sirius' chin. "Don't you dare come before she does, you hear me."

Sirius nodded roughly. "I won't, Moony, promise."

"Good boy," Remus purred.

"Are you close, darling?"

You tried to answer, gagging on Sirius' fingers. Remus grabbed your chin. "Answer me, dear."

"Yes, so close, Remi," you managed to get out.

"Good girl. Keep sucking Paddies fingers like the good little whore you are."

You nodded vigorously.

They were pounding into you so hard you were practically bouncing on their cocks. You were so, so close. The kiss Remus planted on your shoulder warned you that he was going in for the kill. His free hand travelled down your side, teasing your inner thighs before pressing down on your clit.

You threw your head back onto Remus' shoulder as you came. You were completely overwhelmed, choking on Sirius' fingers as Remus was still rubbing your clit. They hadn't slowed down their pace, still fucking into you, chasing their own highs as you squeezed them deliciously.

They came with a string of profanity falling from their lips, Sirius throwing his head back and Remus biting down on your shoulder.

"Fucking hell, love," Sirius smiled as he fell back onto the bed.

"You did so well, darling," Remus guided you down onto the mattress as well.

"Such a good girl." He kissed your temple and cleaned the three of you up before falling back onto the bed, too.

"You feeling better, deary?" Sirius whispered into your ear.

You nodded. "Feeling incredible, Siri. Nothing but incredible."

"Sleep over?" Remus nuzzled his face into your neck.

"Gladly."

[luveline]

is there any way we could get badass!reader x spencer? except he’s injured this time? how does she react?

tysm ♡ cw hospital / gunshot wounds. 1.1k

"You have to let me see him." 

"It's family only," the nurse says, shrugging sympathetically. 

You grit your teeth. "That's what I'm telling you, I am his family. We've been together for four months." 

"Sorry. Unless you're blood related or his next of kin, I can't let you." 

"Spencer's next of kin is in a sanitarium in Las Vegas. I don't understand why you can't let me see him." You're trying not to shout at her, rage trembling in your aching fingers. "I understand that it's night time, and that he was admitted alone, but he was shot, he's not sick, and I can't make him worse. Please. You have to let me see him." 

When begging doesn't work, you get mean. You'd be ashamed to admit you flashed your badge if it weren't for the fact that you have no shame when it comes to Spencer. Face flushed with heat from a good twenty minutes yelling, a different nurse escorts you to Spencer's room. 

"I expect my colleagues will be arriving soon," you say. "And I expect they'll be met with less resistance." 

The nurse smiles at you, as fake as they come, but you don't deserve a real one. You don't care. Breaking rules and bending policies means nothing to you while Spencer's laying alone in a hospital bed. 

His heart monitor beeps steadily. He's sleeping, waxy face crushed sideways into a limp pillow, his stomach a lump under the sheets where he's been wrapped. He was alone when it happened —no one, BAU or otherwise, knows who did it or why. The hospital didn't know who Spencer was until he woke up after surgery and told them himself. 

And you'd been sitting at home feeling sorry for yourself (and vaguely irritated) because he didn't answer your text that morning. 

It's not hard being vulnerable with Spencer. He's your widely known soft spot, and you're unashamed. But it felt like a mistake, constantly checking to see if he'd answered your text. Good morning, I know we're supposed to see each other tomorrow but do you want to come over and watch movies tonight? Let me know had felt like I'm pathetic and in love with you and my day revolves around when you're free.

None of that matters now. In fact, it's all embarrassingly small. 

You creep up beside his bed and reach out tentatively. His hair falls out of his face with the barest of touches. He's had blood wiped poorly from his cheek, orangey streaks lining his jaw. His undereyes are dark like he hasn't eaten for days, his veins spider legs stark against his eyelids. 

You put your hand on his cheek, rubbing it lightly. "I'm sorry it took me so long," you say, leaning down to kiss his forehead.  

Spencer stirs, a groan rumbling from the centre of his chest. 

"I thought that was you," he mumbles, his fingers brushing your elbow. 

"When?" you ask. 

"You were yelling." 

Yeah, well. You need to be disruptive sometimes. "They wouldn't let me in." You're not a big crier, just seeing him like this, knowing he was alone and probably scared, it has tears pricking. "Spencer, I'm so sorry." 

"Hey." He clears his throat, your emotion starting him into wakefulness. "Hey, don't get upset. It's okay. It bounced off of me–" You groan and he laughs, though he grabs your elbow quickly after. "Ouch. Don't make me laugh." 

"I didn't say anything." You pet his face. He looks pretty even when he's in a bad way. Your chest is a pit. 

"It barely touched me. They said my feminine hips saved my life." 

"Stop trying to make me laugh," you say pleadingly. 

Spencer holds your gaze. "Stop looking so sad and I'll stop."

"Are you hurting?" you ask. You know you sound awful, a scared tone that he's never heard from you before, and you try to tamp it down as a lone tear breaks free, streaking down your cheek. "How's your pain? I can make them give you more–" 

"I know you can. I'm fine now you're here." 

You lean down to kiss the tip of his pert nose. Careful, you kiss his lips, enthused when he kisses up. "I'll take care of everything," you promise. 

The door opens behind you. You give Spencer a last squeeze and find Emily in the entrance with a bag pressed to her chest, her hair windblown, shocked with worry. 

"Spencer," she says, rushing forward to hug him. 

He's in a hospital bed and still insists on comforting her as he'd done you, arms threaded over her shoulders. "Hey. I'm fine." 

"Morgan and Garcia want to be here," she assures him, standing straight. "They're trying to keep the site clean. Spencer, what the hell happened?" 

You drag a chair to his bed and sit on his right. You don't take his hand, he doesn't offer it, but the longer his story goes, the closer you find yourself. "I didn't even realise they were following me," he's saying. Emily nods with Hotch on the phone, listening intently, repeating anything Hotch misses. 

You know you should be strong. Brave. You should be paying attention to his every word, ready to take the rains and solve the case, serve retribution against whoever it is that thought they could hurt him, but Spencer looks so tired. You can't imagine being anywhere that isn't his side right now. A blood bag fills at his side, a catheter runs under the bed, an IV line feeding pain medication and fluids into him mottled the skin on the inside of his wrist with bruise. Sometimes you have to stay put.  

Emily hugs you before she leaves. You hug back. 

"If I knew getting hurt would make you accept love from your friends, I would've done it sooner," Spencer says. 

"If you ever get hurt like this again, I'll never speak to you," you say, bringing his arm to your lips and pressing a kiss to the crook of his elbow. 

"Sorry for scaring you." 

You lay your cheek on his arm, looking up at him through your eyelashes. "That's okay. That's fine. Wasn't your fault." 

Spencer drops his chin to his chest. "Do I look bad from this angle?" 

"No. You look just as nice as you always do." Your throat burns with sincerity. You might cry again. 

Spencer nods like he's reading something else from what you've said. It's not that you'd meant to imply a double meaning, but he must see on your face how relieved you are, and how terrified you'd been. He brings his hand to your face, ignoring his cannula, to wipe the dried tears from your lashes. "You look pretty, too," he says. "Just don't cry anymore."