#give love to nonny🤍

[milkloafy]

i literally need past life reader and dan feng as niulang zhinu (chinese myth of the cowherd and weaver girl)

star crossed lovers that only get to meet on one special day each year (i vote for past life reader becoming a part of the garden of recollection as a memokeeper)

and then creating present life reader out of their liking to meet dan heng and have "the marriage they never got".

(this ship was approved by black swan and dead baiheng)

omg anon that reminds me i actually started this blog to post a dan heng/feng x reader fic based of the moon goddess and archer chinese myth!! but then i never finished it 🥹 but i absolutely loveeee the cowheard and weaver girl myth for dan feng !!

tragic mythology just fits so well with dan feng 😭 esp with his reincarnation then at least it’s like they have potential hope to be happy together their next lives 🥺

i love this idea nonnie!! 🤍

memokeeper!reader can preserve their memories with dan feng and then when they encounter dan heng they’ll have new memories to make 🥺 i’m sure dan heng would be fighting it at first bc not wanting to be too attached to anything dan feng related yk but eventually he realizes his relationship with reader is too precious to be petty abt and THEN THEY CAN HAVE THEIR HAPPY ENDING PLS 🥺🥺🥺🤍

[millerscoffee]

Hello!! 🤍 I was wondering if you could write something where Joel is the reader’s college professor, and then Prof. Miller INSISTS that reader comes over to his home for tutoring assistance, (because of failed tests or bad essays), and then finally coaxes her into letting him have his way with her.

hi nonnie! here it is! i hope you enjoy 💖

extra credit

6.2k | joel miller x afab!reader (professor!joel au)

rating: 18+ MDNI

warning: professor!joel au, age gap (joel is 46, reader is 21), soft!dom joel, pining, consensual sex, pet names (darlin', doll, baby), oral (f receiving), face riding, fingering, piv (unprotected, wrap it folks), squirting, joel spitting over the reader's ass for 0.5 seconds (OOPS IDK???), a pretty dress with easy access, hints of after care, spoiler: honestly prof. miller could've told reader to just do the paper in a different format but – that's the point 🤭

When you picked your major, English was a necessary credit needed to achieve your goals.  It wasn’t your strong suit, but you weren’t one to quit just because you were bad at it.  So far you were coasting through, getting a mix of good and bad grades in your English Lit class when the last essay before finals was presented.

Among the crowd in Professor Miller’s lecture hall, you typically sat in the front.  He hands out papers, hovering by your desk.  Giving you a look of disapproval, he places the grade face down.  You peel the pages in anticipation, a sense of dread falling over you when you scan the big, red mark of failings.  “Shit,” you say to yourself.  That was it.  That was the grade that was the defining factor of whether or not you had to retake this course.  You use the side of your hand to wipe sneaky tears in falling.  You failed.  Doing your best to keep it together, you’re not sure you even heard the rest of the lecture from the possibilities running through your mind.  What were you to do?  How would you recover?

Class was over before you knew it.  The sounds of bags zipping and feet stepping, you stayed seated until you were able to look over to Professor Miller.  Dressed in black slacks, a brown button-up with leather shoes.  His hair was slick, the slightest bit of salt and pepper patched at his sideburns.  He looked like he had it all figured out, and that struck a nerve.  A feeling of jealousy that he knew what he was doing, and you obviously did not.

Professor Miller calls your name when the class is emptied, and you sniffle, standing up to straighten your skirt.  Your manicured nails pick up your essay as you walk over in an attempt to hand it to him.  “I guess you want this back,” you hold your full bottom lip between your teeth.

“Did you read the material?”  Professor Miller inquires, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose.  His voice is so dark and honied in comparison to his scowl.  Proving not to judge a book by its cover.  The irony.

“Well, I did, but… I struggle with this stuff.  Predicates and imagery?  I’d rather be learning about biology.  But I need this course, you know.  And I…,” you swallow hard.  God, the last thing you want is to embarrass yourself in front of your teacher.  He doesn’t know you, out of the hundreds of people he teaches – how could he possibly even remember your name?

“Hey,”  Professor Miller takes his glasses off, putting them on the table.  He looks as concerned as you are over it and crosses his arms.  Keeps his distance.  “It happens, you know.  There are things we can do to accommodate.  You’re very bright, I’d hate to see you fail.  You have options.  I can’t let you rewrite the paper, but I could tutor you for your final.  Another option is getting a student tutor, but it’s rare.  You know the workload of this university.  Not a lot of people are willing to sacrifice their precious time.”

“And you are?”  You look up at him with grateful, bright eyes and he loves it.  The praise just from your stare alone is cause for him to clear his throat.

“Listen, for someone like you, I believe it is important to help.  You just need a little more time understanding what you’re doing, is all.  I’m not in my office for the rest of the weekend, though.  You’d have to come by my house…,”  he watches those pretty eyes widen again, and that makes a smirk fall over his greying features, “if that’s okay, of course.  If it’s not, we could work something else out.”

You think about it.  You’ve never had a teacher invite you over, much less someone who looked the way he did.  Though, that was neither here nor there.  His lips formed words you couldn’t even pay attention half the time in hearing.  Maybe that was part of the reason why you were failing in the first place.  But you needed to pass, and if he could help you – and was so kind enough to do it in the first place, you should jump at the first opportunity.

“Okay.  Is there a particular time you’d like me to be there?”

“Are you busy tonight?”

What the fuck. That makes your heart race.  Tonight?  Tonight?!  Ton–

“Tonight… tonight is good.”  How did you even form the words?

“Perfect,” he started, bending down to write his address on a sticky note – his cologne wafts in your direction, and you clamp your legs shut reflexively.  “Here’s my address.  7 o’clock.”

“Seven.  Okay… thank you, Professor Miller.”

“Please, call me Joel.”  His teeth gleamed in a smile, and his personality shined through it.

A personality you didn’t get to see too often from your position behind a desk.

Shit.

---

According to your phone, he didn’t live very far from campus, and you were able to walk to his house without breaking too much of a sweat.  You decided on a black dress, although it was a casual one, that paired nicely with your sneakers.  It had buttons down the front with a relaxed collar.  Your bag slung over your shoulder when you knocked on his door, a nervousness fluttering in your stomach.  It was such a weird thing, meeting your professor in his home.  Much less having him request you call him by his first name.

Your knees all but buckled when you saw him on the other side of the door.

He looks… young in his jeans.  His t-shirt stretched over the broadness of his shoulders, but it’s still loose enough that it doesn’t look ill-fitted.  His stomach, soft at the bottom.  You flash him a smile, but internally you’re reeling over how casual he looks.  You’d never seen him like this, not even during those school meetings that were informal.

“Hey, you,” he’s bright, too.  Charismatic as he invites you into his home.  Takes your bag, lets you take your shoes off until you’re in your socks.  His words hit your stomach, how easy it is for him to talk to you like you’re the brightest sunflower.  What’d you even do to deserve it?

“Hi, Prof– uh, Joel,” you titter, taking in the curated decor of his home.  It was sophisticated, yet a little cheesy at the same time.  His alumni cover his walls and a mix of pictures.  Some with a couple of young girls you assumed were his children.  He has children, you swallow.

“Wasn’t too hard to find this place, right?  When I moved here, I wanted to make sure I wasn’t too far – not much of a mornin’ person,” Joel laughs and you do, too.  Fuck, this feels so easy.  But it’s nothing – it’s nothing.

What you don’t pick up on right away is his open body language.  He places your bag on his couch and you follow him like a puppy – he likes that.  You look so soft under the sienna hue of his lights, your hair falling into place naturally.  Plump and ripe for the taking.  Of course, he meant it when he said he’d tutor you, but the air got thick the moment the door was shut behind the two of you.  What were you doing to him?

Joel’s large frame walks over to his bar cart, turning on his heel to face you, “Interested?”

“Huh?” You blink and he laughs again at your deer caught in the headlights expression.  You’re cute.

“Do you drink?”

“Oh, uh… water would be nice.”

“Water it is,” Joel’s pleasant, gesturing his hand for you to follow him.  And you do – that puppy he was coming to know, right to his kitchen.  You study the marble countertops, the farmhouse style kitchen sink.

“So, tutoring,” he starts, taking a glass from the cupboard, he fills it with filtered water before handing it to you – you thank him with a nod, “I was thinking we could look at your paper, and then go over how to fix things in the future?”  When you take the water from him, your fingers graze.  The first sign of contact, your head continues to nod unthinkingly, but all that scorches your mind is how his skin feels.

“That sounds good,” you overcompensate, shoving the ideas from your mind.  He was your teacher, and it was easy to get back into the mode of why you were here.

Joel’s expression doesn’t change much, still the same grin with hooded eyes and wrinkles at his forehead.  The two lines between his brow.  “Alright, well I have it on the coffee table.  Let’s get settled on the couch, and we’ll get started, okay?”

So you agree.  You take your glass of water and follow him back to the couch where everything was set up – your paper, his laptop.  All of the correction marks in your face as you sit down.  You take another sip of water before placing it down on the coaster.  You dread it, you really do.  Going over your failures?  You scrunch your nose up to yourself, but Joel notices when you’re both settled on the cushions.

“You know, Voltaire said, ‘perfect is the enemy of good’,”  Joel bends his knee on the couch, thigh pressing into the cushion to turn to you and it causes the couch to shift.  The quote makes you giggle a little to yourself, and you shake your head.  “What?” His eyebrow quirks in curiosity.

“Voltaire also popularised the story of Newton’s apple, doesn’t make it true.”

“Huh…,” Joel trailed off, keeping his eye on you – his tongue skating over his bottom lip in thought.  You were so quick all he could really do was laugh, and that made your shoulders relax.  Makes you feel more in control and comfortable to laugh at yourself.  “You got an answer for everything?”

“Not everything.  See this,” you pick up your paper, thumbing over the ink of corrections the man on the couch made and you shrug, “I don’t really understand why this got marked wrong.”  Joel’s gaze flashes over your mouth when your teeth press into the plushness of your bottom lip – he should be given some damn award for having so much self control around you.

“Wrong format.  This citation works for your research papers, right?”  He nods with you before leaning in closer, that damn cologne coming back in full force just like earlier in the day.  You all but freeze when his warm touch graces you again – this time, fingers tracing over where you’re holding the paper.  “Oh,” your voice is soft, a bit of disappointment pangs at your ribs.  You were so busy you didn’t even realise that was the majority of the issues you had.

“So… it’s not really what I wrote, it’s how I wrote it?  You asked if I read the material?”

“Exactly.  If you read the syllabus, you’d see the required format.  Listen, there are some ways for extra credit, I do think this is salvageable.”

You suddenly feel silly.

You did all that work, Professor Miller was kind enough to let you into his home, and it was all for some redundant formatting.  An open palm curls over your chin as you look at the paper in deep contemplation.

“I really fucked up,” you say, hushed in the space.

“You didn’t fuck anything up,” you manage an exhale of amusement at the sound of your teacher curse.  You shift your gaze to look at him.  The curls at the nape of his neck, the way his t-shirt dropped enough so you could see his neck, his chest.  The freckles that splayed over his aged skin.  “You just needed someone to tell you what to do.”

That was the loaded statement.  And a pointed one, it seems.  Someone to tell you what to do.  And Joel wanted to be that person?  Your eyebrows raise for a flash, thumbing over the paper.

“That would be too easy,” you scratch at your neck idly before going for the glass of water, sipping in contemplation. “...I mean, I should’ve known better.”

Joel takes the glass from you, offering himself a sip of your water and it stuns you speechless, doing your best not to convey it.  Maybe he did that just because this was his house.  That must’ve been it.  He was comfortable, but goddamn – the eye contact he gave you when he swallowed the liquid.

It felt intentional.

He watches your features, vague as they were, in what to do next.  He honestly wasn’t so sure what he was doing either.  What?  I know how to give you extra credit, sweetheart.  Too forward, too boastful, too… cheap.  You deserved better than that.  He saw you in class, how hard you were on yourself.  He talked to your other teachers, how well you were doing in your other classes.  He felt for you.  And he was a bit lost in your eyes.  You were all too pretty, too brilliant to be dimmed down to a fuck for extra credit.  Joel could see that.  He wasn’t even sure what he was thinking, you had him distracted.  You threw him off without even trying.  The plight within him grew stronger as he handed back the glass.

“You’re too hard on yourself,” Joel straightens up, his hand cups over your forearm in a way that’s understanding, but also makes goosebumps rise.  You look down to see where you connect and he pulls away slightly.  “Sorry, I–,” “No, it’s okay,” you agree, “It’s okay.  You’re right.”

“It’s just, I see hundreds of bright, beautiful young people every year, but none of them have stood out to me like you.”  He can’t believe the words that are coming out of his mouth.  The candor, the nerve.  A filthy old man, that’s all he was in the eyes of someone as sweet and innocent as you were.  Even if you happened to be experienced – god, what was he thinking?!

Joel clears his throat, shifting a bit in his seat, but he sees the way your lips part, but your eyes don’t show an ounce of shock or distain.  They look soft, and… willing.  You know that is because the pull at your core feels too strong to think of anything else.  You look down at his left hand, making sure you’re not dreaming.  He’s not married?  You’d casually look at his hands from time to time during class and ignored the ache it gave you, but this?  So close?  Backed by the glow of his house?  It was so different from the boys you were used to.  In their dorms or disgusting apartments.  It smelled as nice as it looked.  You realise you’re not speaking, but the way you lean into him says more than you really ever could.

“I don’t know what to say,” shyly, you touch your knuckles to your cheek, “you should teach the guys that go here how to chat with someone.”

It’s a mutter, but not to yourself.  You drink one more mouthful of what you were offered before putting it back on the coaster.  Honestly, any distraction was welcome to defer from the ever-present density in the room.

“Those guys don’t know what they’re talkin’ about anyway.  I know I didn’t at that age.”

There.  The topic right in front of both of your faces.

“How old at you, anyway?”  You inquire, thumb mindlessly circling over your knee.  Joel tracks it, licking over his lips as he answers.  “Forty-six.  You?”

“Twenty-one.”

Fuck.  Fuck fuck fuck.

There’s this standstill, as if you’re both in the air together looking at each other in slow motion.  How will this land?  What are you both even doing here like this?

“I’m sure your boyfriend takes good care of you,” Joel’s eyes, round and bright brown, get lost in yours – the way your breath hitches, the shift of your thighs on his sofa.  He wondered what you tasted like, what sounds you make when these boys who don’t know what they’re doing with their tongue attempt to eat you out.  Do you fake it?  Do you give it to them straight?  Neither of you had a drink from that bar cart in the corner of the room, but somehow you’ve become closer – and more intoxicated.

“Don’t have one,” you respond softly, orbs flickering to the set of plush lips that grow more red the longer you let the tension build, “what about you?  N-no partner?”

Your attempt in confidence wavering the longer he stares at you.  It’s like staring back into the sun and you have your brows knit together until the tug of muscle makes your forehead hurt – smoothing them apart with the twitch of muscle fibers.

“No partner,” Joel’s hand settles on your thigh and you can’t hold it back; you gasp.  But you do something he doesn’t anticipate, or well, you don’t do something: you don’t pull away.

How did you two get to the topic, anyhow?

How did you end up straddling his lap, for that matter?

It’s within six eager seconds that his hand, hot and rough, touches your soft skin, and you – green, you – fervent, throw all inhibitions aside and lunge.  It’s more fluid than you realise, and his hands (both now) grip the backs of your bare thighs and you whimper at the sensation of him squeezing you.  Your wetness against your cotton panties grows from the kneading alone.  No, absolutely not, the boys back in the dorms didn’t know how to do this.

It takes an even shorter time for your mouths to meet.  He’s first to kiss, and he tastes like coffee and his dinner, and the faintness of a cigarette – maybe early in the day?  You couldn’t tell, your head was swimming too deep in now to come back from.

And although his calloused fingers roll patterns into your soft skin, he’s just as willing.  Just as desireful and you can feel it beg to be set free at the seam of his jeans.  His tongue skirts against yours, hips rolling up the second yours tempt to roll down; causing you both to moan in each other’s mouths.

It gets feverish after that.  All teeth, tongue, bite.

You don’t want to stop, you don’t want to take a moment to breathe because fuck, that could stop things.  That could make him realise what is happening.

But that only is another item to your list of naivety.

Because Joel, he’s ready.  His masculine arms wrap around your frame to lift you up just enough so he can get out of his fucking jeans that he now regrets wearing.  Shoulda been wearin’ sweats, but it’s effortless… eventually.  He hurriedly pushes the thick fabric down until they hit at his thighs and you’re pushed down onto his boxers that – holy fucking shit – leave nothing to the imagination.  “Joel, J-,” you pant between kisses, fingernails digging into the base of his neck, he pauses.  Pulls away, gets a good look at your face.

“Y’want this?” And goddamn, you can’t see yourself, but you imagine you look just as fucked out as he does.  On the cusp of every little fantasy he’s had about you from the moment you sat down behind that desk.

“I want this,” you repeat.  You weren’t sure exactly when the nerves subsided, maybe because all of the blood is now rushed at the apex of your thighs, but you mean it.

You want this.  You want Professor Miller.

“You got me,” his breath dances over your lips before guiding you back a bit, “here… I’m going to lie back, I want you to– I’ll show you.”  Your lips quirk up at the fact he’s so flushed he can’t even finish his sentence.

But that soon turns to you flushing when you realise his request.  “I – what?”

“No?”  Joel sits up on his elbows, looking over to you and you’re worried you’ve killed the mood.  It’s just, straddling his face?  Blood rushes to your cheeks.

“I’ve never done that… What if it’s bad?”  His eyes, reassuring, but a deep shade of black now beckons you.

“Darlin’, I think you’ll be a natural.  But I can teach you, if that’s what you want.”

You swallow, straddling his knees somewhere at the bottom of the couch and you think about it.

Joel, on the other hand, was living in a fantasy of teaching you things in and out of school.  Showing you how to make yourself feel good on his mouth – make you forget all about the essay that caused you grief today.  He leans over, pushing it under the couch out of view for good measure.

“Okay,” you agree, though nerves still flood you.  “Okay, you wanna take your panties off?”  You lick your lips at that, biting back another whimper that brought you to this predicament in the first place.  And you did – you wanted nothing more than to slip your underwear off and give into your pleasures.  His voice was deep, graveled with the prospect of him fucking you senseless on his couch and who were you to deny him that?

Who were you to deny yourself that, more importantly.

“Yeah,” doing as you say, you slip off your lace-trimmed undies and abandon them somewhere on your Professor’s floor.  “Fuck,” you mutter.  This was naughty.

“Already so good for me,” you weren’t even sure that Joel’s voice could get deeper, or more inviting, but it does.  You bite your lip and oblige when he pats his chest.  Going over to him, you straddle just above his broad shoulders, and he’s almost out of view with him like this – somehow making it easier to just feel what he could do to you.

Joel on the other hand?  All he can do is see the outline of your glistening core from the shadowed tent you’ve made of your dress and his groans are muffled slightly from the fabric, “Fuckin’ Christ,” he wants to devour you, but he takes his time instead.

Peppers kisses along your thighs that make you claw the armrest, causes you shiver at the contact and you can’t believe this is happening.  “J-Joel,” you hesitate, but his hands are wrapped around your hips now, fingers digging into the breadth of your ass.

“Sit.”  Joel commands.

Oh, fuck.

You’re almost certain you’ll break skin at your lips from biting down so hard, but you do as you’re told.  Anchoring down, it’s subtle at first – the brushing of his facial hair against your folds, his chin prying you apart.  Then, it’s incredibly palpable.  His lips are the first thing you feel as they press and kiss over your middle and as you shudder it only makes your muscles sink deeper on him.  You’re the first to moan, and then Joel, and his mouth is open when he invites you inside it.

“Oh, my god,” thighs shaking, Joel flattens his tongue under the hood of your clit, a body part you were certain hadn’t been touched by anyone else but yourself.  There was no time to compare, the white hot pleasure coursed through your veins and he took his time with it, too.  Made sure he was teasing you, his tongue dipping inside your entrance, as sloppy as it felt.  “Hmmn,” you can’t speak, forearms resting on the armrest now as your head hangs between your shoulders and his fingers make pliable work of your asscheeks.  Pushing you down, using your hips to move back and forth against his mouth – like he’s using you while you use him.

The air is thick under your dress, sticky and humid, as Joel swirls this tip of his devilish tongue in the most astonishing circles you’ve ever experienced, and you know it’s because he has more experience than you do.  Has so much to teach you, if you let him.  Your mouth hangs open as you try to inhale, but it’s just too much.  Especially with the way he thumbs into your stomach, then your pubic bone – lifting it just slightly to expose your clit to him.  An angle, not even you have found yourself.

It almost feels like too much.  It’s intentional, the way his tongue flicks over that bundle of nerves right at the top of your cunt.  Delicious, deliberate.  Two fingers greet your entrance and it startles you, the way he’s rubbing your hole with his two fingers in slow circles before pressing them where you want them most.

“Tell me you want it,” you hear, muffled and fucked, and you shiver at the slightest bit of lack of contact.

“I want it, I want your fingers – please!”

And that seems to send him over the edge of how much he’s willing to hold back because he’s exactly where he was.  Mouth on your clit, but fingers skillfully pressing inside of you and you don’t know how long you’ll last.  Not with the pads of his fingers tapping in the perfect tempo against the ridged spot inside you.

That’s when a weird sensation comes over you.  A pressure, you felt like you had to pee and your insides pulled in more trying to keep it all contained.  “I–,” you start, but it happens so suddenly.  Your orgasm rushes through you, convulsing and almost falling over the edge of the couch, you dig your fingernails into the upholstery.  Your eyes roll back, and fuck, so are your hips.  Unable to stop yourself using Joel’s mouth to keep you exactly right there.  Pleasure pricks your skin, it feels like every cell is ignited – but you jump when you feel a rush of fluid come out of you.  The pressure rebounding out, then rippling pleasure back inside you.  Joel fucks you with his tongue and fingers until he feels you calm down.

“W-what, what… did I do?” You pant, and Joel is groaning, too.  He lifts your hips to get lungfuls of oxygen, so dizzy on you and you notice how soaked his pair of fingers feel on your skin.  Sits you down on his chest and you can see his face finally.  Can see his mouth parting, gasping as his eyes are hooded and so gone.  Curls stick to his forehead, his shirt a dampened colour at the collar.  You blush heavily, embarrassed because you aren’t even sure what that was.  Did he hate that, was that weird?

“C’mere,” he growls with gritted teeth and sits up, the tables turning instantly.  Joel’s stripping his shirt off, kicking every last bit of the bottom half he had on to be abandoned on the floor.  His fingers remove the buttons, but he can’t really get them – those fingers too big for the buttons.  “Here,” you whisper, an intense feeling of lust falling over any self-conscious self talk you had.  You undo the top of your dress one button at a time until your breasts are released from your bra – you moan when he has no problem spilling your tits from the satin, nipples in stiff peaks from your orgasm.  And everything else.

“You know what you did?”  Joel asks, taking both of your nipples between his fingers from each hand.  You moan, lifting your hips and he bites his lip when he sees your cunt front under your dress.  “What was it?”  You ask, curiously.  Innocently.

“You squirted f’me, baby,” he slurs, thumbing over your clit now as he gets a good look at you and he’s drunk on you.  His cock throbbing against your thigh, he taps it against your skin before realising what he needed.

 “Fuck,” Joel mutters and you can tell by the tone it’s not just at your appearance.  “What is it?”  You inquire, eyebrows knit.

“Gotta get a condom,” you hear him mutter, getting onto one foot and you stop him.  “No.  No.  I want to feel you.  It’s okay, I don’t get pregnant–” well that sentence isn’t exactly how you mean for it to come out, but your mind is mush, your body feels boneless underneath him, and he chuckles at that.  At how gone your brain is.  Here he was, thinking he was the only one.  “Okay, okay, darlin’.  I believe ya.”

And really, maybe he should be using more discretion.  But he can’t get the feeling of you out of his head.  You were everywhere.  His mouth, his glistening chest and beard.  He takes you by the hips then, sitting back to flip you on your hands and knees with your help and you moan at the sensation.  Joel looks down at you, groaning of your ass in the air, pushing back for his cock.  “Such a needy little thing, now,”  it’s as if someone else is talking.�� This isn’t the Professor Miller you know.  This man has layers and you’re first in line to know exactly what that entails.

Joel takes the base of his cock, bobbing it as it throbs alive in his hand and runs through your slick with the head of it.  “So fucking wet.  Beginning to think you’ve been wanting this for as long as I have.”

You bite a whine and he can see the back of your head nodding as you crane your neck back enough to make eye contact, but his eyes fall down to your ass pressing eagerly on his cock.  Doing your best to press him inside yourself.

“Go ahead,” he slaps his cock on your folds and you mewl at the wet sounds coming from it.  “Take my cock.”

And take, you do.  Joel holds it out for you, keeps it steady and you push back slow on his cock.  Clenching around the head and he growls at that.  “You dirty thing.  This how you fuck all your teachers?”  It burns your skin, pushing your face into your arm and you shake your head.

“Words.” He warns.

“Just you!  Just you, Joel!”

“Just me,” he parrots, hissing when you shift back and you both twitch and groan when you take him to the hilt of you.  It was so thick, stretching you out until you felt split apart from him.  “Just me, show me then.  Show me how you fuck me.”

You bite into your arm then, choking on a sob as you push your ass back over and over.  Your cunt taking him deep like this, it almost feels like too much and not enough at once.  Torturously slow against the spongy spot again

 It felt so amazing taking him yourself, but it was like an itch you couldn’t scratch on your own.  The tapping of his balls against your clit was too far apart in tempo, his cock speared inside you at a pace that didn’t have quite the same leverage as Joel did behind you.

His hands busied themselves on your ass, peeling the muscle apart – pressing his digits to leave bruises and just when you think it’s too much to take, he gives you something else.  His spit falling from his lips right to the velvet of your asshole.  You shudder and flutter around him when it falls to where you’re connected.  Your fingertips grip the other armrest now, cheek resting atop of your hand and you can’t do it yourself anymore.  “Fuck me, Joel!  Professor Miller, please!”

“Shit – you know where to push, don’t you?”  Joel’s wide hands slide up your sides, keeping them locked in place as he pulls your hips to him at first.  Using your whole lower body, your head hands doing your best to keep yourself up but you’re so close when he uses you like this.  When he picks up the pace and you let your head fall on his throw pillow – your screams of desire are targeted into the plush cushion.

Joel is bound up in amazement behind you.  How you feel around him, your gorgeous figure in front of him as he gives you every bit of power he can now.  His hips hammering into you, but with the right amount of speed – not too fast, not too slow.  The sound of his balls slapping against your clit is faster now, and the difference is what you focus on.  The way it sounds.  Joel feels you tighten, pulse around his own pulse and he has to say something to you.  Has to talk you through it, even if he’s not sure you’ll like it.

“So fuckin’ good for me,” he drapes his body over your back, huffing into your ear as the controlled weight of him pushes your ass down just enough to make your thighs shake.  You are soaked, sticky against his abdomen, between your thighs.  Over your own stomach.  You move your face so you can feel his skin closer against your.  His lips staying on your cheekbone, he grunts and nods.

“That’s it, fuckin’ take it.  I know you can take it.  Those shaky fuckin’ thighs better hold on.”

You feel yourself coil and he is quick to sooth over your hips with his palms.

“Relax, baby.  That’s it, that’s good, darlin’.  Shh, easy.  Do you feel that heat?”

You nod hopelessly, the buildup was so strong you couldn’t do anything but curl your fingers into fists and whimper repeatedly.

“Give into that heat.  Come for me, I know you can be so good for me.  Good for – fuck – fuck.  Good for my cock,” Joel groaning in your ear makes you flutter uncontrollably, and he wastes no time in wrapping his arm around your front, rolling quick circles at the split of your cunt, right at your clit.  “Milkin’ my fuckin’ cock like that, don’t stop.  Don’t fuckin’ stop,” he grits, and you’re gasping.

Clawing at the pillow, head craning up and back as you come.  Mouth gaped, Joel takes advantage – pouring his tongue into it, swirling and drinking you while his cock bottoms into you repeatedly until he can’t take it anymore.  You feel too good.  Perfect, even.

“Joel!” Your whine is high, as your wet folds take his merciless shoves.  “You feel so good, youfeelsogood!”  Your lip quivers, jerking in aftershocks that feel a lot like multiple orgasms.  You aren’t even sure how you feel, but he knows he has to pull out.  So he tells you, rough and pained against your ear.  He doesn’t want to any more than you do.  But as soon as he does, that reward feels just as sweet.

He exhales roughly through his nose, a popping sound filling the room when he pulls out.  Not even needing to touch himself to spill himself over the small of your back.

“Fuck,” he’s out of breath, grunting, and doing his best not to collide into you.  You’re still, the nape of your neck dews with sweat and you can feel it stick to your dress instantly.

“Stay there,” Joel pulls away, and you sit up on your elbows now that you’re fully flat and study his frame walk into the kitchen.

The back of him is just as irresistible as the front.

You hum hungrily at the landscape of his back.  But you do as you say, you don’t move a muscle.  When he comes back, you take note of the splotches of his chest, his neck red and sheened with sweat, too.  He’s just as disheveled.  The paper towel he comes back with is rough against your lower back, but tickles more than anything else.

Makes you wriggle and laugh.

“What did I say?”  He threatens, but his voice is much more smoother and tender.  More playful.  More like what you’re used to.

“Tickles!”

“You must endure it if you know what’s good for you.”  he’s finished enough for you to roll over.  You pull your tits back into your bra with another low laugh, but to yourself at how exposed and a mess you’re sure you look on your professor’s couch.

“I think I like that threat.”

“No more,” and that makes your heart drop.  He must be able to see the disappointed look on your face, so he rephrases his sentence in an instant.  “No more tonight.”

“Maybe I should be teaching you the importance of ambiguity.”

“Next lesson.”

Your heart soars just as fast as it dropped.

---

While you slip on your sneakers, you turn your heel to him – bag in tow.  “Listen, I don’t want this to be why I passed.”

“It’s not – it won’t be,”  Joel chews up the space between you – his hand pressing against the doorframe that your delicate hand adorns at the knob, fully dressed himself, now.  “You will pass by your own volition.  I meant it – you are bright.  You won’t let anybody take that from you, will you?” You knew that wasn’t a question as he tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear, but you still swayed your head ‘no’.

“Not even me.”  He whispers, pressing his lips to your forehead before dropping his arm – allowing you to leave.  And that’s exactly what he’ll let you believe.

“Especially not you.”  You smile, leaning up to kiss his lips – your flavour lingers over his facial hair and tongue.  Your panties in his pocket.

“Goodnight, Professor Miller.”

“Goodnight, doll.”

taglist: @cool-iguana – comment to be added!

[auclairedetoru]

Ahhh I saw you're also open to writing AoT? Especially Eren?? And I love your little headcanon things, they're so cute! So may I request something sweet with eren too? Maybe a college au or something, they could either be strangers to lovers or idk friends/best friends to lovers (with like years of pining, I love that trope but you do you!). Maybe just some headcanons again💙Have a lovely day!

Thank you for requesting, nonnie 🤍 it's a little short and sweet but I'm definitely going to write more about these in the future!

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Eren who has a big friend group, from childhood friends to his frat brothers.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Eren who people perceive as a typical college student in a frat house. Parties any chance he gets, drinks, sleeps around, has a new girlfriend every two weeks, is failing his classes...etc.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Eren who laughs when he hears those assumptions despite them being partially true. Yeah, he does love to party and have fun, but he wasn't the type to wake up in a stranger's bed every weekend, mainly because the thought of catching an STD is scary, but because he might have eyes for one specific person. He's not stupid, either. He's the top student in all of his classes.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Eren who Intrigues people when they scroll through his social media. He has a few solo posts and some with friends, but when you swipe through all of them, you'll always find the same person present... His best friend y/n.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Eren who has known y/n since middle school and has been inseparable from her since then. He does everything with her, takes her everywhere he goes, his friends are her friends and vice versa. The day they got accepted into the same college was one of the best days of his life.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Eren who loves his best friend so much and isn't afraid to show it. Giving her a tight hug and a kiss on the cheek when he first sees her in the morning, holds her hands when walking, wraps his arm around her shoulders and pulls her in a hug, cuddles with her, calls her cute pet names... He just really loves his best friend.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Eren who's actually been in love with y/n since high school but has always been too scared and nervous to confess. Jean - his other best friend - has told him many times that she feels the same because if she didn't she wouldn't allow him to be as affectionate with her but he still refuses to believe him.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Eren who starts hearing the whispers when he's seen with her. People are now saying they might be dating, and those rumours spread like wildfire. He's not doing anything to help calm them down either, but he casually posts a picture of her sleeping in his bed, wearing his sweater, hugging his pillow, with "my world" in the caption.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Eren who despite his nonchalant attitude about everything is worried about her being uncomfortable with his actions, so he asks her about it and she simple answers with sitting on his lap and kissing his cheek, “you know it would be visible all over my face if I'm uncomfortable, 'ren.”, and it's true, he can read her like an open book, even when she tries to hide her emotions.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Eren who's now tired of just being friends and wants to take it a step further. All they need to do is kiss at this point because even their parents think they're an item.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Eren who one morning is on his bed sitting across from y/n who spent the night again. She is still a little sleepy, her hair is a little messy on top of her head and he tries to calm it down a little by petting her head gently, she's wearing his hoodie and drinking from his water bottle. He smiles at her, thinking about how absolutely adorable she looks.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Eren who let's go of everything that was holding him back before and cups her cheek, his thumb slowly caressing the soft plush as he moves his face closer to hers. A soft good morning left his lips making her smile and lean her forehead against his forehead, replying back with the cutest and softest sleepy voice.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Eren who stares at her for a few seconds before leaning in fully and placing his lips against her soft ones, sighing in relief when he feels her kissing him back. His unoccupied arm wraps around her waist and pulls her closer to him until she's on his lap and she has her arms wrapped around his shoulders.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Eren who doesn't hesitate to confess, declaring his love against her lips making her giggle softly in happiness and confessing right back. He feels over the moon, everything he's ever wanted is in his arms, kissing him back, loving him back.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Eren who proudly shows off the promise rings he got them the same day they made it official. Holding their intertwined hands up so their friends can see them with a big grin on his face, “it's our initials! See? That's the first letter of her name on my finger!”.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Eren whose social media is now only filled with pictures of his pretty girlfriend and unapologetically corny captions. He's spent years wishing he could love her the way he's doing now, and he's not going to hold back now that he's got her.

[briseroyawritingsblog]

Can we please have a fluff story with sickie reader and Hugh as caretaker? Pretty pleasee 🥺❤️ Thank you ❤️❤️❤️

𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒍𝒆 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒄𝒂𝒓𝒆

𝒐𝒍𝒅𝒆𝒓!𝒃𝒇!𝒉𝒖𝒈𝒉 𝒙 𝒇𝒆𝒎!𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

• +18 minors do not interact, fluff, sick day, cuddles, kissing, tummy rubs, babying, pet names. etc.

𝒘𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆: to all girlies who are lonely, when sick.. and to all girlies who adore this man and wish he was theirs. 🤍 thank you for requesting this nonnie, i hope you like it.

𝒉𝒖𝒈𝒉 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 / 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕

divider by the lovely @anitalenia 💌

“In bed you go..I got you some breakfast” you pouted watching him slip on your fluffy socks. He kissed your hand and sighed helping you under the covers. “M’sorry.. we had our date planned” you reach for his hand eyes pleading. “Want me to feed you princess?” Sitting next to you, your heart fluttered with love. “I wish i could kiss you right now..” you whine and he laughed under his breath. Soothing your hair gently. “I want to kiss you.. you know i do..” you nodded. “I know but you’re not allowed I don’t want to get you sick daddy..” you whisper lightly rubbing his knuckles. “Damnit.. what a shame..” he smirked, taking the bowl of warm sweet oatmeal in his hand dipping spoon in it feeding you to it. It was delicious, topped with honey.. banana and forest fruit. You sat against the headboard pulling the covers up to your chin shivering again. Your cheeks warmed up, he touched your forehead “don’t worry about a stupid date.. I will take care of you” he nuzzled your cheek before pulling away feeding you some breakfast. You whined, feeling your body melting away. “daddy..” you sighed getting your belly filled with homemade oatmeal by your boyfriend your sick day just got brighter. “Drink your tea.. and don’t forget to take your meds– can you do that for me kitten?” you smiled at him– his care made you fall in love with him even more. Kissing your forehead standing up to leave to the kitchen. You nodded drinking your mint tea, then eating your meds.

when hugh returned from the kitchen you were passed out burning with fever. your cheeks hot, lips parted. He sighed taking off his hoodie, sliding in bed next to you pulling you in– letting you lie on his chest. You got comfortable, when a sneeze woke you. He grabbed a tissue wiping your nose stroking your hair again. “Shhh.. s’alright buttercup..” your eyes filled with tears, as you snuggled yourself in his large arms. “I feel like a sick kid..” you sobbed. “You’re my sick baby and I don’t care if I get sick from you.” He cuddled you close bringing his mouth to yours kissing you, kissing your tears away.

“I’m so sorry” you moaned softly against his lips as he kissed you snuggling even closer to him. He chuckled lightly “You will be…” tickling your sides gently you giggled feeling your fever leave your body. As if he was your energy.. he was truly the love of your life and nothing would ever change that. “I love you so much..” you nuzzled his cheek. He cupped the back of your hair “I love you more.. now where does it hurt?” You put his hand on your belly. He rubbed circles on your belly giving you your water bottle. “Plenty of water baby, and sleep..” you nodded listening to your daddy. “I got you sick now too.. you kissed me” he smiled kissing you again; and again, and again planting kisses all over face. “Little flu won’t kill me. Now sleep” he sighed letting you take large gulps of water and settle in bed next to him. Closing your eyes. He made sure you were warm enough, like that he watched you sleep. And suddenly.. you became his world all over again.

-

[lizdive]

Hello! Might i request a Boothill x reader (romantic) who likes all things cute? Pretty dresses and lots of plushies! People make fun of her though and call her childish. Im curious how he would be with someone like that, maybe she likes to do his makeup or braid his hair. Thank u in advance if u do this request and i hope ur having a great day!💕

Hi nonnie <33 My day has been lovely !! Hope yours is as well 🩷🤍 tysm for requesting <33 if ur unsatisfied tell me and i’ll redo it !!

notes 𐙚 fem! reader — "you" + "my girl" + "she/her" used to refer to reader ,, romantic relationships ,, not proofread ignore typos

⭑ You and BOOTHILL’s dynamic appearance wise surprises many people — you both are the literal definition of opposites attract aesthetically. Likes it when people stare and likes showing you off. He hopes you enjoy showing him off, too.

⭑ BOOTHILL always carries your bags when you both go shopping. He’ll also give you his wallet and let you spend as much as you want. He’s loaded because of bounties so buy all the pretty and cute things you want.

⭑ "Y’look gorgeous, sweetheart," he says for the millionth time as you show him a dress you’re thinking of buying.

⭑ He’ll buy you plushies when he’s coming back from missions. Picks only the cutest ones for you. If he’s unsure he’ll usually just buy them all. They aren’t for free, though!! Every plushie will be paid for by a kiss from you.

⭑ If you name your plushies, BOOTHILL will try his best to remember the names. Whenever he’s greeting you with kisses, he’ll make sure to greet the plushie you have with you and pat it on it’s head.

⭑ If you have fighting abilities and use a weapon of some sort that’s decorated all cutely, he’ll definitely buy you charms and lace and things so you can further decorate your weapon !!

⭑ He doesn’t think your childish at all. Everyone likes what they like. Would never ever judge you and is very supportive of your likes. He does not tolerate anyone bullying or making fun of you and he makes that clear.

⭑ "I couldn’t help but hear ya talkin ‘bout my girl. Y’better shut yer trap and hope she ain’t hear a thing," BOOTHILL says as he slowly pulls his revolvers out of it’s holster, intimidating the person who dared talk bad about you.

⭑ Doesn’t mind if you do his hair — he loves it! Especially when you braid it or do a nice bun or something to keep it from being a hassle during missions. If you put in clips or bows, he’ll keep them in until they fall out naturally. He’ll take them out if he knows they might fall out during a mission or something, he doesn’t want to lose them.

⭑ You know that pose where the person is sitting on their partner’s lap as their partner is lying down on the floor and they do their makeup? That’s you both.

⭑ He’ll get all giggly and squirmy at the fluffy brushes as you do his blush and eyeshadow. He’ll try to remain still, but he just can’t help it :( he’ll apologize a lot throughout the makeup session,,

⭑ BOOTHILL will always be careful so as to not wrinkle or ruin one of your dresses or your hair or makeup, especially if your looks are very intricate like lolita fashion or you just care a lot for your appearance.

⭑ Overall 10/10 perfect partner very respectful snd indulgent !!

[riaki]

haii >:3 i was wondering of you could write a thing on if reader was a classmatw of gojo when they were in jujutsu tech? ur hsbullt gojo was really well written 💗

sorry if i sound rude, im not familiar with how tumblr works ;(

hey there!! thank u sm for ur ask nonnie ! hope this is good... and don’t worry!!!! ur perfectly fine my love 🤍

classmates | satoru gojo x reader cw: calls u princess, swearing

1:34PM. 5/21/06 - JUJUTSU TECH GYM - more than friends, less than lovers

"fucking hell, satoru!" you rub your head slowly, gritting your teeth as pain hammers the side of your skull; feels like a bruise is going to form, and you’re pretty sure you have basketball line marks on your face.

satoru jogs over to you, the rubber soles of his shoes squeaking on the gym floor. there's that pesky grin on his lips again, and his eyes shine, a vibrant glow of youth. he’s not apologetic at all, you think with gritted teeth. he slows to a stop a few yards away from you, a panting, sweaty mess, yet you find yourself irritably drawn to him either way. he shoots you a quick wink, fanning himself with his shirt in a way that lets the dip of his hip expose itself to the musty air of the gym. a droplet of sweat slides down his skin, and your face burns.

"yo! pass me that ball, [name]." he waves an eager hand towards you, and you roll your eyes, tossing the basketball in his direction. it lands square on his chest with a thump, eliciting a little ‘oof’ from his lips and pressing the cotton of his shirt against his damp skin. and it sticks, defining his muscles in patches of wet cloth. the summer heat must really be getting to you, because the sound of his voice has your thoughts running far, far away from you.

you’re yanked back into reality when a little huff escapes his glossy lips, wiping his forehead and messing up his soft white hair, stray strands clinging together over his eyes. shoko made away with his sunglasses, which means you’ve got a front seat view of those gorgeous, yet equally uncanny irises. "hey, you've got a solid throw. you should give it a shot, yeah? why not join me 'n suguru for a round—"

“hell no.”

he just laughs at that, haughty and everything you should really learn to hate as he turns on his heel and heads back toward the center of the court, where suguru is waiting with an irked expression on his face.

“suit yourself, princess.” he tosses a wave in your direction of his shoulder, and you raise a hand to your chest, feeling your heart slam against your ribcage.

9:02AM. 11/06/07 - JUJUTSU TECH CLASSROOM - best friends

“so.”

gojo glances at you, as if surprised you broke the silence. you can see your own reflection in the lens of his shades, hiding his gaze from the world. sunlight filters in through the windows; it’s early, a break between classes. it shouldn’t be stuffy in the classroom with the windows open, but it still feels suffocating.

you stare at him, and he stares back from his seat atop your desk. his lips are curved down in that usual unamused look he’s always sporting, but there seems to be weight in his shoulders; a ghost tugging his muscles down, stiffening the muscles in his neck to the point where you wish you could just offer him a massage. but you’re not sure if he’d let you get close enough to ever do that.

“what?” he snaps, glaring at you as he sticks his bottom lip out. at least, you think he’s glaring— it’s been harder to tell lately, what’s on his mind. not that you were ever able to read him easily before, though. he likes to hide.

you kick the leg of the desk he’s sitting on with a foot, sighing and humming to yourself for a moment or two. you don’t see it, but gojo’s expression softens slightly and he looks back up at the ceiling again, callused fingers curling around the edge of the desk. the pale color of his skin makes the veins on his hands more prominent; a subtle, muted blue that makes you want to run a hand over his arm.

the two of you had stopped by a store that morning. you’d bought a cup of coffee and two onigiri for yourselves, but it seems like he’s already finished his. you know right now is the prime time for his appetite to flare up— with adolescence and all, but he doesn’t seem to be eating much. or at least, not from what you can tell.

“here, have this.”

gojo glances down at you once more, letting himself observe you with his full vision; not one that’s always hidden behind a layer of thick black stained glass, meant to absorb the pain and the headaches for him. you, who’s so gentle and soft with him— surely you wouldn’t cause him any sort of aching, if not for the one inside the cavity of his chest. it takes him a moment to realize you’re holding out something to him— your onigiri, half eaten. there’s a shriveled little plum showing, burrowed between the layers of sticky rice and dry seaweed wrappings.

he’s uncharacteristically silent as he grabs it from you, the crinkle of the plastic wrapping the only noise in the world as he stares at it for a moment before starting to eat. his cheek puffs when he starts chewing; the bob of his adam’s apple in his throat when he swallows makes it hard for you to stifle a smile. even with the weight of all he’s carrying, gojo still manages to look like a child every now and then. you can’t help but think he’s grown up too fast.

you let a moment of silence pass, stealing a long glance at him as he busies himself with his half of the rice ball, wolfing it down.

“i know i cant offer much to you, satoru…” you started quietly; tenderly, if he listened closely. the way you say his name makes his throat constrict in a way he’s not familiar with.

“…but if you ever need something— anything— i’ll be here. plus, i never finish my onigiri anyway. so you can have the half i don’t eat,” you laughed, closing your eyes and listening to the morning breeze outside. gojo takes the opportunity to observe you; the soft curve of your cheeks, the way your lashes curl, the soft fade of your full lips at the edges and the hair that frames your face.

you can feel his eyes on you, but you let him get away with it. it feels like an infinite eternity goes by before his voice finally cuts through the thick air.

“…have you been resting? the bags under your eyes are darker than usual.” he pokes at you, shifting again, but you seem to revel in the comfortable familiarity of his banter; something that makes his heart ache in a way only you elicit from him. the way you pull at his heart strings is so natural and easy that it’s unnatural to ignore.

“probably more than you have,” you teased. gojo sniffles, and you chalk it up to the seasonal illnesses.

2:46AM. 12/07/08 - JUJUTSU TECH DORMS - ?

it’s half past two in the morning when you get gojo’s text. or, more accurately, the one you forced him to send when he returned from his mission.

m done. u can come pver

he looks a little too much like a zombie when you knock on the door of his dorm and it swings open for you, revealing him in all his tired glory. the bags under his eyes are redder and darker than usual, and his hair is tussled and messy. it’s obvious he hasn’t bothered to clean himself up. his white tee is stained with something damp; his tears, but you don’t dwell on it. there’s a bandaid on the bottom of his jaw; you can see a hint of angry red scrapes peeking out from beneath the beige material.

“you look like shit.”

“are you gonna come in or not?”

you oblige and step inside, the plastic bag in your hand rustling with each movement. it’s a bit loud, and you just pray you don’t get caught sneaking into gojo’s room this late at night. at least you know which boards creak.

he closes the door behind you, crossing his arms over his chest and observing you. you look the same as you always do, but the way your hair falls over your face makes him want to brush it back, like some unresolved impulse. he doesn’t do anything about it; hanging around you for so long has taught him how to keep himself in control. for as long as he can manage, anyway.

he speaks up first, voice hoarse and low with lack of use. “what’s in the bag?” he makes it sound like it’s something illegal. and at this point, you’re not sure if the feeling that pushes you to do things for him should be considered so, because sometimes it feels like it.

“a birthday cake. or— it’s a fruit tart i stayed up to make.” you said, placing the bag on his cluttered desk, pushing away photo frames and bloody tissues and pencils shaven down to eraser stubs to make room for the box. satoru meanders over to you, peering over your shoulder with one hand on the desk to support himself. you can feel his breath on your neck, hot even in the darkness. it makes your hands clammy.

moonlight spills in from the windows next to his bed, but it’s not enough, so you turn on the lamp and open the box. the tart’s been through quite a bit— jostled in transport, marred in the making— but the sweet smell of fruit and cream makes his mouth water nonetheless.

“wow, that’s nice of you. weirdly so, actually. are you really [name]?” you can hear the grin in satoru’s voice, and you know he can hear the exasperation in your voice when you reply, using the plastic utensils you packed to cut a slice for him. the red strawberry juice stains the cream as your knife slices through, a rivulet of vermillion.

“shut up and be grateful. you get the slice with kiwi and the rotten blueberries just for that,” you huff, indignantly in a way that reminds satoru of a rather petulant housecat. he takes the tart from you, cold fingers ghosting over yours as the golden brown crust crumbles in his palm.

ignoring the sour berries, the taste is like a bite of heaven, but not the distant kind that’s hidden behind a veil of clouds. the kind that’s only found within the quaint, humble warmth of a homely kitchen, made with love by one’s own hand. your hand. the knowledge tastes all the sweeter on his tongue.

he’s snapped from his dazed pastry-savoring stupor when you speak up again, enjoying a slice of your own.

“happy birthday, gojo.” he stiffens, but he’s not quite sure why. if you notice his change in demeanor, you don’t say anything about it.

“congrats to another year,” you smiled, lifting up your half-eaten tart, not unlike the onigiri you’d shared with him a year ago. except this time he reciprocates, and you share a toast of berries and cream in the darkness of his dorm, at 3am on a quiet sunday.

the dorms are silent. the only sound is the wind outside, throwing leaves and dust at the window panes as it sings a tune in ode to winter. come tomorrow, it’ll likely be silenced by a coating of thick, white snow; unmoving, burying the secrets of the earth beneath the glittering icicles. not unlike the boy next to you, with pretty blue eyes that are constantly focused yet distant all the same, hair the color of clouds and face worn with age unbefitting of a child.

come tomorrow, the snow will fall and snuff out the life of the flowers and plants. but in this tranquil bubble of time, satoru is as free as a dove outside of its silver cage.

he reaches over, pulling you in by the sleeve of your night shirt and pressing a quick, chaste kiss to the corner of your lips. it happens in the blink of an eye; a moment of impulse, where for once, he allows himself to breathe; to let down the walls he literally holds up around him, to let his fingers curl into the fabric of your clothes and breathe in your scent, taste the heat on your skin and the buttery sweet crumbs dotting the curve of your lips; the dips in the corners of your mouth that make you always look so pretty when you smile.

when he pulls away, he refuses to meet your gaze, instead staring down at the only remaining clue of the tart in his palm— a single, rotten blueberry, squishy and soft. the silence rings in his ear as his face becomes hot.

“what was that for?” you ask quietly, staring angrily— in embarrassment, into nothing.

“there were crumbs on your mouth,” he explains.

nothing more, nothing less.

my (riaki) stuff. don’t repost and/or plagiarize !

[heeliopheelia]

"how did we end up like this?" (heeseung x reader)

genre: angst to fluff word count: 1k requested by nonnie ♡

a/n: ahhh i almost forgot how much i love writing angst and arguments 🤍 like i've said before, i wasn't planning on ending this on a happy note but i folded because... well, it's hee lmfao

masterlist

Your head is pounding from all the screaming and crying you've let out today.

Biting down on your lip harshly, you turn your head to the side to hide the tears forming in your eyes from your boyfriend. Eyeing the duffle bag you've laid out on your shared bed, you start throwing the messily folded clothes inside it.

"W-Wait, what are you-," Heeseung stops himself as he chokes on his own breath. With heart dropping into the deepest pit of his stomach, he walks up to you and grabs your elbow gently. He tries to ignore the way that your body stiffens underneath his touch but the sharp aching in his chest really makes it difficult. "Stop, please. That's not necessary, love."

"Oh, I think it's very necessary," you murmur with a sniffle, using the back of your hand to wipe the tears from your face.

Heeseung tries to move in front of you but you jerk your arm out of his touch and shake your head at him.

"Baby, don't. You know I didn't mean what I said–"

"I know," you interrupt him, trying to calm your shaky breath. "I know," you repeat, softer this time, "It's not that, Heeseung."

"Then what is it?" He asks, slightly dreading your answer as he watches your eyes widen with disbelief.

"Oh, c'mon now. All we ever do is fight all the goddamn time. We can't even go two days without getting to each other's throats. It's not healthy anymore, you've surely noticed that." Your trembling fingers attempt to stuff another shirt into your duffle bag but when another wave of hot tears blurs your vision completely, you give up on this task for and bury your face in your hands. "How did we even end up like this? When? We were always so good together. So why?"

"I'm sorry." Even though Heeseung's head is filled to the brim with running thoughts, this is the only thing he's able to come up with.

Hurting you was never the slightest possibility for him yet now he's standing seemingly frozen, watching the love of his life collect their stuff and about to leave him forever – and all he can do is try to figure out the answer to your question. Because, really, when has it all started going downhill?  Heeseung could swear in a heartbeat that there's never been anyone who could make him happier than you do – and probably no one ever will, and yet he starts wondering whether convincing you to stay with him would only cause you more pain.

"You don't have to apologize for anything," you sniffle again, hands moving quickly to zip your bag. "We're both at fault here. No need to kick yourself down because of it, you know? Sometimes it just.... happens."

And he can't say anything because you're right. He can't say anything because there's absolutely nothing on his mind that could somehow make this situation better. He can't say anything because if he does, he'll only hurt you more and he can't have that when his heart is already this heavy with guilt.

So he watches helplessly as throw the bag over your shoulder, not sparing him even one look as you make you way out of the bedroom with your head hanging low, thick teardrops leaving a trace on the floor as you go. You're walking down the stairs and it'll be only a matter of seconds before you leave him and without even knowing how much he fucking loves you you'll be gone from his life.

With that thought and the fact that Lee Heeseung is a selfish man whose heart always has more control over him than his mind, he drops every single shred of reason and rushes down the stairs, long legs nearly tripping on the wooden steps.

He pushes his arm forward in the last second, shutting the door close just as your hand reaches the doorknob.

He's breathless, wide eyes looking at you with panic. "Don't go."

"Heeseung, I–," you stutter out, mind stalling as his warm hands come up to cup your wet face, fingers wiping your cheeks with the tenderness and affection that you've lacked so much for the past week.

And when he starts littering small, quite desperate, kisses all over your face, you can't help but cave into his touch, the duffle bag hitting the floor as it slides down your shoulder.

"Don't leave, baby," he pleads, hugging you even closer, even tighter when your tears seem to never come to an end. "Don't leave me, please. We'll fix it, we always do. I'll be better, I promise."

Your arms come up around his middle, fingers clenching on the fabric of his worn out t-shirt as you can't do anything else but cry in his embrace. He presses a kiss to your wobbly lips coated with salty tears, then another one and a next one after that.

"You're it for me, YN. I need you with me. By my side," he mumbles into your skin, his warm kisses never ceasing and successfully bringing comfort to your weeping heart. "I love you so much."

"I love you too," you nearly whisper, words strangled with your tightened throat. He makes your head spin but you have no time to wonder if it's in a good or a bad way as his tongue makes its way inside your mouth, causing all of your thoughts to disappear within a mere second. "So much," you mutter into the kiss, hands coming up to run through his thick hair.

"Then stay with me, hm?" You nod your head quickly, tugging his neck closer as he pulls away from you slightly. "Yeah?" He needs you to confirm your statement before he gets his hopes too high and gets his heart broken in two. "You're not gonna leave me?"

And the another firm nod of your head is all that he needs, breath stuttering for a second before he draws you even closer in his arms and lets you pull his face to yours again, molding your lips together and willing to leave the scarring argument in the past to give your mending relationship yet another chance.

permanent taglist: @bambisgirl @arizejkt19 @luvmura @milisabunny @cathy-1997 @satoruskitchenrag @ramenoil @jenjnk @jaylaxies @yoongspi

[nahoney22]

Hello! I was wondering if there'd be any chance you could do a short rampart x female reader? I'd like some fluff if that was okay? Just some cute stuff with reader being with him (as in pathetic beard Rampart) First time asking for something like this lol

Head Over Heels 🌊

🫧 pairings: Admiral Rampart X Female!Reader (can be read as GN)

word count: 1k

prompts: none

plot: After saving clones from the Empire, Rampart finds a fresh start on Pabu and falls for a compassionate local; you. And to thank Yoh for everything, he surprises you home-cooked meal.

warnings: Safe for work, fluff, established relationship. Female reader but can be read as GN, for plot purposes, Rampart lives, domestic fluff, Tantis mention.

authors note: I am so sorry for the wait nonny, enjoy 🤍🩵

The smell of something spiced and delicious makes your stomach grumble, a reminder that you hadn’t eaten recently and was too caught up in your current work. So naturally, you follow the smell.

A grin plasters on your face when you spot a certain someone standing in the small kitchen of your shared home, fussing over something at the stove. He was cursing quietly to himself, looking at the pot on the stove and to the datapad he had propped up against one of your utensil pots, reading a recipe.

It was hard to imagine this was the same Edmon Rampart that once worked for the Empire. After everything he’d done to save the clones on Tantiss, even Omega, he had more than earned the trust of the Batch, and yours as well. And here on Pabu, with the distant past behind him, he seemed content. Peaceful. Well, until he tried to cook.

You cleared your throat, smiling when he startled slightly and looked back at you, hiding a grin that almost broke through. “You’re cooking,” you noted, a touch of surprise in your voice.

He chuckled softly, a rare sound. “What gave it away? The smell?”

“The fact that you’re standing there with a spatula,” you teased, stepping closer to take a peek at the pot. “Are you making a mess?”

“Hardly,” he replied, though his tone was light. “It’s a thank-you, you know. For everything. For putting up with me and…” His words trailed off, a bit unsteady, as he poked at the food, a trace of a grimace flashing across his face. “For giving me a chance, even after how we met.”

You smiled, recalling the day you both met. Rampart had stepped off the ship on Pabu, looking more like a lost soul than the steadfast Imperial officer he once was. His eyes had met yours, a spark of something unfamiliar lighting in his gaze. A look of love at first sight, perhaps. And then he’d misstepped on the gangplank, tumbling forward and falling head over heels.

It had been quite the ungraceful landing for a former Grand Admiral. You’d rushed to his aid, cautious since you knew who or what he was, but genuinely concerned. That first encounter became the route of many more, each one knocking down walls until you finally let eachother in.

Shaking yourself from the memory, you reached out and brushed your hand over his arm. “If this is your way of thanking me, it’s a good start.” You grinned up at him. “But, I don’t have to ‘put up’ with you, Edmon.”

“Then you’re far too kind,” he said with a wry smile, shifting to plate the food, the aroma wafting your nostrils. “You could have every reason to resent me for who I was. And I wouldn’t blame you if you did.”

“That was then,” you replied gently, taking both of your bowls and moving them to the steel dining table. “Who you are now is what matters. Pabu is a fresh start for everyone, including you. You have earned your place here.”

His eyes softened, and he reached out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “You have a gift.”

“And what’s that?”

He pauses for a moment before he leans in and places a tender kiss to your forehead before saying, “Making me feel human. For reminding me I’m more than the man I was.”

You felt your cheeks warm at his tenderness and lean into his kiss as this kind of rare softness that he had, was reserved only for you. It wasn’t long ago that you’d felt skeptic around him. And yet, bit by bit, he’d peeled back his uniform, revealing a man you didn’t think would be capable of loyalty, courage, and even warmth. But here you were.

As you both settled at the table, he poured two glasses of drink. He hadn’t said it outright, but you knew he’d put extra care into this evening. Perhaps it was his way of grounding himself, of saying, I’m here, and I’m staying.

“So, are you planning on keeping the beard?” you asked, a playful glint in your eyes as you picked up your fork.

He raised a amused brow. “Ah. You noticed, did you?”

“Noticed?” You laughed, taking a sip of wine. “It’s the first thing I noticed when I met you, stumbling down that gangplank. I mean, it’s very different from the clean-shaven Imperial officer look you had before.”

Rampart ran a hand over his beard, deep in contemplation. “I did consider shaving it,” he admitted before smiling almost bashfully. “But you seem to like it.”

“I do like it,” you said, eyes twinkling. “It suits you. Makes you look…softer.”

“I’m not so sure about that,” he replied, though his smile betrayed him. “But I suppose for you, I can make an exception.”

A gentle warmth filled the room as you both continued talking, sharing stories and laughter over the meal he had made.

“Can I ask you something?” he said after a pause, his tone uncharacteristically vulnerable.

“Of course.” You nod, covering your mouth as you were still mid-chew.

He leaned forward, holding your gaze. “When you look at me, do you see the man who I am now or, who I was?”

It was a heavy question, and you took a moment to find the right words. “I see the man you choose to be,” you replied slowly. “Every day, you make the choice to be better, to do something good. And I admire you for that.”

A hint of relief softened his expression. He reached across the table, taking your hand in his. “Thank you. For seeing that in me.”

You leaned over, brushing a kiss to his cheek, feeling the familiar warmth of his skin against yours. “Well, I wouldn’t exactly have invited you to live with me if I didn’t, would I?”

“Fair point,” he conceded, squeezing your hand. “I suppose that’s evidence enough.”

As you filled your hungry belly, complimenting the chef with a kiss, you realised just how head over heels you had fallen for him. It was clumsy, but just as he had for you.

Tags: @littlefeatherr @kaitou2417 @eyecandyeoz @jesseeka @theroguesully @ladykatakuri @arctrooper69 9 @padawancat97 @staycalmandhugaclone @ko-neko-san @echos-girlfriend @fiveshelmet @dangraccoon @plushymiku-blog @pb-jellybeans @nunanuggets @sleepycreativewriter @erellenora @zippingstars87 @ezras-left-thumb @the-rain-on-kamino @lamiliani @tentakelspektakel l @tech-aficionado @grizabellasolo @therealnekomari @tech-depression-inventory @brynhildrmimi @greaser-wolf @kaminocasey @marvel-starwars-nerd @ladytano420 @ladyzirkonia @thesith @raevulsix @cw80831 @knightprincess @crosshairlovebot @imalovernotahater @sithstrings @whore4rex @imperialclaw801 1 @temple-elder @mysticalgalaxysalad @yunggoblin

[bau-drabbles]

HI! I was wondering if you do like a concept where reader and Spencer have relationship problems because he's in love with JJ? But if not that's okay. I hope you're well ❤ I love your works!

aw of course nonnie! thank you for reading and the love 🥹🤍 this is rushed since its like an idea but i hope you like it :)

•••

do you like how i look? or just how i look on you?

you watch him carefully through your lashes, the pen threatening to break under your grasp. the way he had felt so ease, the way he could engage in a conversation with her, all of it so very easily angered you.

"don't you agree y/n?" jj smiles, her gaze shifting towards you.

"hm?" you replied, completely lost in thought and she gestures to his hair. her slender fingers run through his messy locks and he sits there, giving her a soft chuckle. it makes you want to knock his lights out truthfully.

"he looks better in long hair, doesn't he?" she giggles and you raise an eyebrow, looking at them both. even you would've mistaken them for a couple despite actually being in a relationship with him.

"i wouldn't know. i don't spend enough time with him to see how his hair looks" your passive aggressive tone doesn't go unnoticed by spencer and immediately his eyes dart to yours. he gives you that specific look that you're treading in dangerous waters but there's not a cell in your body that cares anymore.

jj awkwardly looks between you and spencer, him staring you down but you refusing to back off so you hold his eye contact. she coughs and it snaps you both out of it and towards her once more.

"i have to go, i gotta file these and give them to hotch. but i'll see you later?" she gives you both one last final smile and she goes, leaving the two of you alone

"what was that?" he asked irritably, his tone offended as if you'd genuinely caused him some pain

"honesty. i haven't seen you in so long but you wouldn't know that since you're so absorbed with jj" you know you shouldn't start the fight right now, a case could come at any moment and you'd be called in seconds but you can't help yourself. he was so incredibly selfish, couldn't he see how he was treating you?? couldn't he see how much you cared??

"i have no idea what you mean" he replied flatly, standing up to his full height and turning his back on you. you scoffed, turning around in your chair. you were already hanging on by a thread and his attitude would be your undoing.

"oh, you don't?? i've never seen your eyes shine more than when you're with her, like she's gathered all the stars and placed them there. you look at her..... like she's the most perfect thing you've ever seen" your voice trembels at the end of your sentence, you could only wish he gazed at you with half the adoration he held for her

"is there a point to your accusations? or can we move on to more pressing matters?" spencer furrows his eyebrows, turning his back on you. you don't know which is more aggravating, the fact that he brushes you off so easily or that he continued to defend jj even after everything.

"you know at first i didn't like jj, i really wanted to know what made her so special that you couldn't take your eyes from her for two fucking seconds but..." you pause, remembering all he times you had felt so insignificant to him. so inferior to jj, even though she didn't know.

"you adore everything about her, or rather, you love her. from how she talks to how she is. you notice everything about her. coffee orders, food preferences, hell even her moods, sometimes i wonder why you just didn't date her instead" your tone is biting, daring him to object. you hope he does, you hope he can finally see his wrong doings. you hope he can see how unfairly he had been treating you.

but fiction is far different than reality, sometimes things didn't go the way you so desperately hoped they did.

you know why he didn't date jj, she was already married. so he settled for the next option, pining and yearning for her in the dark while he had you as a front so everyone could see he had moved on too. you thought deep down he would learn to love you as you did him but after 2 years, it was never going to change.

"do you love her?" the question left your lips so quickly you didn't even register you had said it until he looked back. the pain settled in your heart, anxiously waiting for his answer. even though you knew deep down what it was.

"y/n plea-" he rolls his eyes but you stand up, walking toward him

"do you love her or not? it's a one word answer reid" the use of his last name instead of his first insinuates you're serious this time.

"i..." he breaks off, trying to find some way to make sense of it. in the midst of it all, you catch a glimpse of his true feelings before he composes himself once more.

but even for him that was a second too long

and when you see it there's shock on your face. confirmation and resignation plastered on his when he learns what he had done.

a small voice in you berates you for not seeing the signs at the start, they were so painfully obvious how could you have ever missed it. but people never do when they're in love.

"guys! c'mon, hotch is waiting" garcia knocks, looking at you both expectantly but you can't seem to rip your gaze from the man opposite you

i loved you, i loved you, i love-

"yeah..." you don't want to cause a scene, bringing yourself back to the crushing weight of reality. hitting you like a ton of bricks, tormenting you over and over.

"y/n..." spencer calls out, his hand reaching to yours to stop you but you snatch it away. like his touch is poisoned and you'd fall deeper into the darkness that so eagerly awaits your presence.

"y/n?" penelope asked, the smile she usually donned was slowly dropping from looking at the pair of you back and forth. looking to reid for some answers but he could only look at you and you could only look at the floor, wondering why you weren't good enough.

"let's go" your voice is a strained whisper, needing to throw yourself into something so you didn't need to think of him.

you realised that heartbreak is quite similar to the movies you used to make fun of. the second its over, all you can remember is the moments that made you fall in love. blazing through your mind, a rom com montage made of the sweetest poison.

[pretty-toru]

Prettyyyyy, have you got some (more?) Gojo nsfw hcs? Love ya lots <3

✧ ⎯⎯ 18+ minors dni. love you too nonnie 🤍 these particular ones have been consuming my mind for so long it's time i finally put them into words.

☁️ Satoru adores seeing you in lingerie. So much that he loves spending thousands of dollars on your collection, and enjoys the sensual confidence and playful attitude when you dress up for him. He'll check you out and appreciatively touch you, and instead of unwrapping his lovely present it stays on the entire time he's making love to you.

The embroidered mesh panties get pulled to the side as he teases you with shallow thrusts, your breasts spilling from the cups of the delicate bra when he gently tugs them down to pinch and roll your nipples. You're a delicious sight as you're sprawled beautifully under him that's begging to be worshiped and admired, especially when you're wearing his colors of baby blues and angelic whites.

☁️ He's a bit obsessed with seeing his thick, white cum anywhere on your body. As much as Satoru loves sharing many beautiful and intimate moments from climaxing deep inside you, he switches things up by pulling out and creating a mess on your pussy as he spills his contents along your folds and clit with the heavy drag of his tip to spread it. He thinks it's one of the hottest parts of sex, like a sense of ownership and marking his territory.

He also loves cumming in your mouth with the visual of your parted lips and seeing it shoot on your tongue while taking in your cute expression. Some other personal faves are on your lovely tits and your stomach because you do that thing where you'd collect a taste of him on your fingers just to lick them clean.

☁️ When Satoru upgraded the private automobile that Ijichi drove him around, the assistant manager wondered if his hard work had been recognized or there must be another reason for this gesture. He quickly received his answer when you were accompanying Satoru to a formal social gathering, and to make it more bearable for your lover (because he thinks these events are boring) he'd instruct Ijichi to raise the privacy screen out of respect for your comfort as you're placing gratuitous kisses along his neck.

Even though the view is obscured, there's no secret the clan leader is receiving a blowjob in the backseat of the car from the way his breathing picks up and expressive moans slipping past his lips and he's praising you for being his 'good girl' and to 'keep sucking just like that.' Satoru would have loved seeing you swallow, but he imagines the evening would be much more amusing knowing that his cum's slowly seeping out of you and onto your panties.

☁️ When you return home from a girls' night out, clearly still in an inebriated daze as Satoru makes his way to the front door at the sound of you stumbling in (and acts like he hadn't been waiting for you the entire time). He doesn't mind helping you out of your dress for his comfy t-shirt and getting you ready for bed by washing your makeup off and brushing your teeth for you as you loosely hug his torso because your mind feels like it's swaying back and forth.

Then comes the usual goodnight kisses after he tucks you in, but your lips are soft and lingering as there’s an ache between your legs that only Satoru can fulfill. You're grinding your heat on his thigh, feeling yourself become a little more whiny and needy and bratty when he doesn't immediately fuck you and makes you use your words to tell him exactly how he can help you. Teases you even, because he can't figure out between the two of you who is being taken advantage of tonight. But with you begging so sweetly, he can’t help but give his pretty baby what she wants.

[nicoline1998enilocin]

“can i call you mommy?” with tony stark? 😶‍🌫️😶‍🌫️

Mommy's Sweet Boy

PAIRING || Boyfriend!Young!Tony Stark x Girlfriend!Fem!Reader

WORDCOUNT || ~ 550 words.

SUMMARY || You and Tony have been dating for a few months, and you two explored inside the bedroom a lot during that time. When he suddenly asks you a rather... unexpected question, it unlocks something in both of you, and you're more than happy to play into your newfound kink.

RATING || Explicit (E)

TAGS || Established relationship. Young!Tony Stark.

WARNINGS || Explicit sexual content.

SMUT || Mommy kink. Lactation kink (no milk). Nipple play. Cockwarming. Grinding. Cream pie. Multiple orgasms.

A/N || This drabble is part of Nicoline's Summer of Drabbles. Nonnie, you have picked one of my favorite kinks, and I'm very happy with how this turned out! This is proofread by the amazing @ccbsrmsf1, for which I will be eternally grateful! 🤍

Photo: Source || Other graphics are made by @nicoline1998enilocin

Main Masterlist || Tony Stark || Summer of Drabbles

Today is your six-month anniversary with your boyfriend, Tony, and you two have been enjoying your time together a lot. You spend every possible moment together, and the fact that you're so close also causes a deep trust in the bedroom, which is precisely what led you to today.

He has treated you to a beautiful dinner, and now you're in his apartment as you two are seated on his couch, your blouse already having met its fate as it's on the floor, your skirt has been pushed up to your hips as Tony's cock is nestled deep inside your warm, dripping pussy.

"You feel so good, Gorgeous, fuck-" He suddenly gasps when you take off your bra, and your breasts bounce free in front of his face. He has seen them countless times before, but that doesn't take away from the fact that he enjoys seeing them, playing with them and sucking on them, too.

His hands wander from your hips to your breasts, his thumbs gliding over your hardened nipples as he smirks from the corners of his lips, and a soft moan escapes your lips at the stimulation. Your eyes slip shut as you revel in the moment, but what comes out of Tony's mouth next has you both surprised and aroused.

"Can I call you Mommy?"

As soon as the words left his mouth, you clenched around his cock, and your eyes shot open to meet his dark brown eyes, which are filled with nothing but pure lust.

"Of course you can, My Sweet Boy. Will you let Mommy take care of you tonight?" you ask, and Tony nods enthusiastically as his cock is throbbing inside you. While you never suspected you'd have a mommy kink, you're thrilled to discover you both have one, and you'll happily lean into that.

"Yes, Mommy," he whispers as he's still eyeing your hard nipples, his bottom lip tugged between his teeth as he's trying his hardest not to cum yet.

"Good boy, now, would you like a little taste of your Mommy's milk?" you ask, and his eyes shoot up to meet your gaze. His mouth opens slightly at your suggestion, but he nods enthusiastically once he's sure you're serious.

"C'mere, and make Mommy feel good; they're so heavy with milk, and I need a little relief," you say as you guide Tony towards your nipple, and he happily sucks it into his mouth, giving you both exactly what you're looking for.

Your hands are laced in Tony's hair, while his are splayed out on your butt, the stimulation of his lips around your nipple making you even more aroused as you start working yourself up and down on Tony's cock, seeking the pleasure you're so desperately wanting.

"I'm- fuck- I'm close, Baby. You gonna make Mommy cum with your thick, delicious cock?" you ask, and Tony hums before he helps you bounce up and down, quickly chasing both your highs. It doesn't take long for both of you to fall apart as your orgasms wash over you both.

"I love you, Tony. Thank you for discovering a few kinks I never knew I had," you tell him before kissing him deeply, and without another word, he flips you two over until he's on top of you, ready to make love to you after everything that ever happened.

"I love you too, Mommy."

[winterrrnight]

Wedding / honeymoon with Drew for ig au ?

thank you for this request nonnie! I hope you enjoy this 💞💞 do let me know your thoughts if you wanna xx

honeymoon

PAIRING: drew starkey x fem!reader

SUMMARY: an instagram blurb about you and drew getting married and going on your honeymoon.

FACE CLAIM: n/a

WARNINGS: n/a

EDITH SPEAKS: I wasn't able to find a good face claim for this one so I decided to use faceless pictures from pinterest. please know none of these are deciding what you look like, they are used purely for imagination purposes :)

I made up all the instagram users, so if by any chance I have your instagram user used here, I'm so sorry I promise it was a total coincidence!

please like, reblog and share your thoughts 🥺 I love to interact with you all <3

navigation || join my taglist || requests

liked by rudeth, brooke_starkey and 3,281,492 others

yourinstagram what a day it was celebrating the start of our new life ❤️ drew, I cannot wait to see what the future has in store for us 🎇

tagged: drewstarkey

drewstarkey 💘💘

drewandynschild HAPPY MARRIAGE!!!! 💗😭

rafecore oh my goddd they're so cute 🥹 wishing only the best for them <3

vogueweddings congratulations!! 🤍✨

-> yourinstagram thank you vogue 💞

madelyncline mr. and mrs. starkey 🫶🏻

-> yourinstagram 🤭

liked by user21, obx_is_life and 89,281 others

drewstarkeyupdates y/n via ig stories!

tagged: drewstarkey, yourinstagram

rafeyyy omg their honeymoon 🥹

zachmaclarensgirl can they adopt me or smth

drewsrafe oh lord he's so cute

livelaughrafe NEED TO SEE DREW'S CAMERA ROLL

-> karabaeee FR FR FR

liked by jonathandavissofficial, madisonbaileybabe and 4,421,964 others

drewstarkey wouldn't wanna do this with anyone else

tagged: yourinstagram

yourinstagram 🥺🤍

-> drewstarkey ❤️

fionapalomo how cutee 🫶🏻🥹

-> drewstarkey 💖

user82 ughh I love them smm

iluvrafe they are just my favourite people everrr

drewsify 🥹🥹

liked by hichasestokes, theregoesrafe and 4,382,281 others

yourinstagram honeymoon diaries (drew being drew edition)

lilalovesdrew everyone say thank you y/n for all the premium drew content she's been providing us 😌

-> obxfan29 thank you y/n!!!

-> rafestarkey YEAHH THANK YOU Y/N

drewandynschild can't get enough of him 😭😭

maybankluvbot HES SO CUTE

liked by drew_clouds, theotherzach and 99,291 others

drewstarkeyupdates drew with fans today!

tagged: drewstarkey

ayoitsyourgirl OH THESE ARE SO CUTE

cameronlovebot he looks like he gives the best hugs 🥺

rafe_stars I WANNA HUG HIM SOO BAD

misscarerra 🥹🥹🥹

liked by rafelovesyou, rafeyyy and 70,382 others

drewstarkeyupdates y/n via ig stories!

tagged: drewstarkey, yourinstagram

olivia_cameron if my future husband doesn't take me to a honeymoon as amazing as this one I'm not going 😤

macklovesmaddie i love them smmmm

drewfan90 they fr gave us some of the best content ever

aurora.andrews my parents frfr

↶ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊˎ-

TAGLIST: @runningfrom2am @saccharinesammie @maybankslover @totalswag @madelynie @chenslucy @ietss @elle-mp3 @viawritesstuff @wallsdreams @tahliac11 @sadfury @newsies-pape-girl @jamesbuckybarneswify @xxxlaura @callsignwidow

(If you want to be added, check out the 'join my taglist' post on top! + send in requests if you have any, but please read the 'requests' post first!)

[thisismeracing]

Jealousy, jealousy | LH44

SOCIAL MEDIA AU

Pairing: black!actress!reader (she/her) x lewis hamilton

Warnings: curse words, Twitter environment, it’s not proofread, etc etc. Minors DNI!

summary: After a red carpet interaction, people are shipping Yn with Chris Evans without knowing that she's dating a pilot. What will Lewis do when he sees the fuss internet is making about it?

Per this request 💜 I hope you like it, nonny!

a/n: none of the pictures used are mine, they are all from Pinterest and other apps. everything else is made up by me and I do not give permission for it to be published on a different platform. I would appreciate it if those things could be taken into consideration 💛

my masterlist | taglist

cevansupdates

liked by goldenyn, hstyles23, and others

cevansupdates Not Chris instantly putting his sunglasses on when he sees Yn 👀

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captainamerica09 rumor has it he’s obsessed w black girls, and after this interaction I think its true

ynsunshine DID HE REALLY GOT READY TO CHECK HER OUT???? 😳😳

evansparadise Chris Evans and Yn Yln together is not a couple I saw coming but I 100% approve

1990yn I am always speechless with how pretty Yn is ❤️

lewishamilton

liked by yourusername, pierregasly, and others

lewishamilton Life has been the best with you by my side 🤍

tagged: yourusername

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yourusername SIR- I- I THOUGHT YOU WERE JOKING!!!!

sirroscoeh Lewis really said fuck soft launch and fuck those people shipping my girlfriend with an average white man

⤷ moviestaryln average????

⤷ sirroscoeh just a joke, bestie, I like them both, but I gotta be honest I would jump on sir lewis hamilton without giving it a second thought 🤫

georgerussell63 I had to listen to him complain for a whole hour!! 💀

yeehawricciardo I TOLD YALL!!!

popyn someone check on chris evans please LMAO

monzaatittude not lewis jealous of his superstar gf

ynsunshine1 the picture of yn giving the middle finger AHHAHAHA lewis is so petty, I love him for that

yourusername

liked by chrisevans, lewishamilton, and others

yourusername I thought it was supposed to be a soft launch, blame it on the Sir ❤️ ily, babe

tagged: lewishamilton

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mercedesun THE LAST PICTURE OMG

hamilton8 I am in love with their relationship

ynprincess I love to see my black queens being infinitely loved 😭🤎🤎

roscoeking is your boyfriend single, yn?

ynandlewis I'm just thinking how did they manage to keep this a secret 🤔🤔🤔

⤷ schumercedes it wasnt 100% sucessfull tho, some people were able to connect the dots

franceformulaone yeah, guys, looks like that crazie was onto something

If you liked it, don't forget to click the small heart button and reblog as well <3 my inbox is always open for feedbacks, thots and random talk

taglist: @sachaa-ff

[doukeshi-kun]

🎭🚬 nonnie here! Thank you so much for the support Keshi!! I'm really honoured🥺🤍🤍

Anyways I made a small Relationship Headcanon to fresh up and see what's it like to be in a relationship with him (⁠〃ﾟ⁠3ﾟ⁠〃⁠)

warnings: a little ooc. generally fluff and angst if you squint

AYATSUJI RELATIONSHIP HEADCANONS

Ayatsuji is considered someone who tries dating in order to satisfy his curiousity in the systems of relationships. He's already content with the companies of his dolls, claiming they are more amusing than a real person, but we know this man truly craves for someone to be there with him through thick and thin.

‌He's happy to be with someone who likes his interests and hobbies, especially if they want to take into it as well

‌I can imagine cafe, museum, or library dates>>>

‌He isn't really into PDA or maybe he's just generally shy about it, but if you are offering him a hug, he'll jump right in for the opportunity (but not that directly yk)

‌He's a big tease in private tho, he will suddenly tickle you haha he really loves your smile :((

‌He would definitely date a person who would initiate physical affection because he's so damn shy about it and it's also because he was never given proper love since he was a child huhu

‌He'll bury his face in your neck or chest, he really wants be buried in your warmth <3

Of course, he loves, loves, loves, LOVES giving you neck kisses too

‌Speaking of physical affection, I know he's the type to take of his hat before leaning in to kiss you, ESPECIALLY he would use his hat to cover both of your faces in public when wants to smooch (this is best of the most giddiest gesture this man can do)

‌He knows he's beautiful and you mostly can't deny him for everything, so if wants your attention, he'll shoot you a small pout and give you puppy eyes (this guy pouts a lot in the manga and fanmade comics I swear)

‌slow dancing together..... *drools*

‌calls you in names like: doll/darling/dollface

‌Doesn't men who have pet cats or are cat lovers are always the cuntiest? *Coughs and looks at Fukuzawa as well*

‌His main love language is gift giving. We know he's not so openly expressive but if taken a liking to something, he'll definitely buy it for you or he would just suddenly give you a cat loaf pillow and say something like; "I saw it outside a shop and it reminds me of you."

‌Doesn't this go without a saying how he'll buy you anything to doll you up? It's he's more than just happy if you let him be his dolly (aww)

‌He'll probably not tell you anytime soon, but this man would make a bunch of dolls of both you in different outfits and it's all probably made to recreate what you wore in your outdoor dates together skshdkskl

do I have to mention that he would also make one of both of you together with his beloved two cats as a testament of your bond with them?

He's OBSESSED with letting you scatter your things in his apartment or office, it makes him feel comfortable or assured in his own place since there's a sniper pointed in his head almost 24/7

It's the when he would buy the same perfume you frequently wear and he would spray on himself or on his duvet because he wants be reminded of you all the time.

that's all I can think of for now, have a wonderful day(⁠ﾉ⁠◕⁠ヮ⁠◕⁠)⁠ﾉ⁠*⁠.⁠✧

i love all of these! definitely something yukito would do with his lover. though, i feel like since he's a very big tease in private, he isn't so shy about initiating affectionate gestures. but probably he does feel slightly embarrassed if he were to do it in front of other people—like ango or tsujimura, cough cough professionalism cough

they're all cute 🩶 we love ayatsuji yukito in this house <3

[suguru-getos]

gahhh i have sm childe thirsts and I hope youre okay with some crumbs 👀

So like.. somno with childe, but.. you wake up because you feel something grind against you, and you see him being so needy in his sleep 👀👀🥺 he's trying to get enough friction but it isn't enough, so you decide to help him out but inside of letting him get inside you, you give him a hand? maybe even tease him a bit 👀

hello nonnie 👀🫶🏻 of course i’m more than okay with your childe crumbs especially if they’re this good. 😈 it’s been a while since i indulged w the og daddy 🤭 after the arrival of sumeru daddies and i’m having sm fun !! 😫🤍

-> warnings: somnophilia, teasing, fluff <3

there are certain times your ever so charming, wonderful, archon like physiqued man does the cutest little things. this time… it was him having a lewd dream where he mumbled your name helplessly, chanting it over and over; taking the complete advantage of being the big spoon and dry humping his semi against you.

you were woken from your slumber because of this, soft tired smile all over you as you turned to face him, leaning in and kissing his lips ever so gently, cupping his face and tenderly staring at his smooth, sharp features. “i love you” you smiled at him, to which he hummed reflexively.

your hands wandered across the waistband of his joggers, taking his hardened cock out in your hand and pumping it just enough to tease him a little. you were pretty sure if childe had been awake, you’d be shoved with his cock as a funishment. ;)

a sinful groan arises from his throat when you pick up your pace a little, watching him like the finest art show ever as his pupils slit open slowly, getting accustomed to everything around him. “fuck— baby, what’re you doin..?” childe softly gasped, holding the nape of your neck and stealing a passionate, breathless kiss.

“you looked like you needed some help,” you batted your lashes at him, kissing his forehead. “and i wanted to tease you a bit.” your harmless giggle mingled with his sleepiness made him give in further.

“yeah- yeah i do… fuck i was having such an amazing dream, we had just finished battling and then as a reward for winning… i, got to fuck you”

you hummed in approval, still working your hands around his pent up cock. “maybe tomorrow we can make that dream a reality.”

“you bet, girlie.”

[pinkmirth]

hiii! love the influx of posts <3 your last ask had me giggling and kicking my feet back. i hope you’ve been well and that the summer heat isn’t overbearing! any thoughts on how our fav vamp yearns? i feel like he’d put any other man to shame— though, anything he does already has that effect. have a lovely week!! :))

why thank you, nonnie! i’m glad to know you’re liking my content for lulu >.< the heat’s been crazy lately, but daydreaming of adrian could fix me right up 🤍

i think that alucard yearns with so much tenacity. his desire would just be so palpable, like you could feel the very tension of it wafting throughout the air. it’s in his low voice, in the close stance he takes beside you, in his glowing eyes that don’t tear away from your face, your frame. adrian wears his heart on his sleeve; moreso, his hunger. the way he grabs onto you and caresses your body already has you caving, ready to give him whatever he pleases. you can never bring yourself to deny such a beautiful man.