#good luck with your combing !

[sockwachowski]

i think its really homophobic that my jonathan is not in my bed rn holding me and playing with my hair and saying he loves me so so so soooo much and kissing me and we're not watching wreck it ralph together in our shared home. i think he should die for that idk

[milkweedman]

So…any plans for the waste fiber? I've just started Getting into combing wool myself and while I would love to someday have garden access I currently live in a top floor apt so composting is immediately out. I am currently using it as stuffing but I only really need or want one pillow maybe 2. I've also thought about wet felting and using that as batting for a quilt but idk if or when I'll have enough time (or wool) to make a quilt. (Because of course I have to quilt by hand! Wouldnt dream of doing it any other way....)

Personally, I process it on hand cards and then either spin the resulting rolags into a textured yarn, or else then put them on the blending board. You can most likely (depending on your particular combing waste) just fluff it up by hand and spin it as is.

Wet felting it into quilt batting is a super cool idea, I really love that. I wonder if the short + tangled combo of combing waste might cause some difficulties, but I'd imagine most breeds would still felt ok !

Tbh I always recommend just saving your waste fiber (sorted by project or breed or whatever, if you can) and waiting till you've got a lot of it or inspiration strikes.

[piratesexmachine420]

If you can't enforce your principles without betraying your principles you need to rethink... maybe everything.

[machveil]

Maybe Konig and a very tired reader?..... someone who just needs him to help her get up in the morning and lay back down in the night. In return, she's the most affectionate towards him.

I also love (I mean obsess over) your works with him thank you so much<3

I am Sleepy!Reader, Sleepy!Reader is me - I feel them in my tired bones😔✨

König adores slow mornings with you - even if it’s a weekday, he’ll pause and hold you before needing to get up. his heart flutters when you ask for, “Jus’ a couple more minutes…”, squeezing when you tug the covers up over your head. he doesn’t have the heart to disturb you so he gets up, abandoning the warm sheets. he’ll get started on his morning routine while you doze, prepping breakfast, reading a couple pages from his latest book

König who gently stirs you from sleep, one big hand cupping your face, thumb smoothing over your cheek. his mama always woke him up like this as a kid, cooing softly that it’s time to start the day, opposed to his father who would just knock loudly on his door. he wants you to wake up relaxed and happy, rubbing the sleep from your eyes as you yawn. you look so soft, pillow lines on your face and hair a little messy. his own Briar Rose, and he’s your Prince Charming bringing you something to drink - be it coffee or tea, water or juice, it doesn’t matter as long as you like it

König really shines with you after a deployment. achy and sore, he’ll collapse on the couch, tugging you down with him. early morning? midafternoon? dusk? I hope you’re ready for König, human furnace that he is, to cuddle up to you. he’s in a state of exhaustion and hunger after being in the field, half asleep and eating something. he runs incredibly warm, and being tucked against him? it’s nearly guaranteed to have you drifting off. the combination of his steady heartbeat and the warmth radiating off of him is wonderful, he takes his job as a pillow very seriously. if you fall asleep on or next to him he won’t move. does he have to use the bathroom? he can hold it, he doesn’t want to disturb you

once it’s time to actually get ready for bed he’s making sure you’re nice and relaxed. are his hands rough and calloused? yes they are, but if he puts a little lotion on them and gives you a massage? oh, it’s lights out for you. if you let him, König will work his hands from your shoulders to your feet, concentrating on making you go boneless. he’ll get you a cup of water in case you get thirsty in the middle of the night good luck getting to it if he has you locked against his chest. he lives for pampering his sleepy little Maus, tucks you against him while playing with your hair. combing through your hair with his fingers, gently scratching your scalp, it soothes him as much as it soothes you

König absolutely adores how clingy you get when you’re drowsy, butterflies fluttering in his stomach when you seek him out. he doesn’t have the heart to push you away, he never will. his lap is always available to you, whether you want to use his thighs as a pillow or straddle them and lay against him. he’ll let you absentmindedly toy with him, enjoys the feeling of your hands messing with his hair or kneading his muscles. he lives for the way your eyes droop, eyelashes hanging low as you fight off a nap. if you want, he’ll let you dumbly suck on his neck or fingers, the soft repetitive feeling relaxing the both of you - he doesn’t mind a little drool, don’t worry Schatz

CW: Fem!Reader, safe, sane, consensual somno, sleepy sex, cockwarming, fingering (fem!receiving), handjob, no condom - wrap it before you tap it, manifesting needy gentle big guy König (my heart— [explodes])

König loves soft sex before going to bed or early in the morning when you wake up. if you need a little extra warmth, other than his body enveloping you, he’ll gently prep you before sinking into you. it always feels better when you’re both relaxed, König’s barely-there thrusting and your halfhearted grinding. delightfully full, warmth pooling in your gut, sometimes you both fall asleep before anything really gets going. it’s not something you can really escape in the middle of the night, König’s thick arms secure around your waist, his face pressed to your neck. he can get a little twitchy, lost in his dreams and breathing against you, he can’t help the way his hips jolt a little every once in a while

he’ll make it up to you in the morning if you’re in the mood, soft groans and choked moans leaving him as he gently works himself into you again and again. between your sleepy moans and how warm you are against him he doesn’t last long, overstimulated from being snug inside of you. he’ll go until you orgasm, muffling his whines against the crook of your neck. helps you clean up, sweetly kissing your thighs while gently cleaning up your slick skin. he’ll help you to the shower, both your heads a little fuzzy from a blissful morning. he’ll shampoo and condition your hair for you if you want, careful not to be too rough. it makes him smile when you yawn, leaning into his touch as your eyes flutter shut - warm water lulling you back into a comfortable headspace

König who’s apprehensive about touching you purposely in your sleep - even when you tell him it’s okay, that you’d like him to. he just doesn’t want to hurt you, doesn’t want to ruin your beauty sleep and accidentally wake you up. “You don’t have to, you can if you want, König.”, your tired smile easing his nerves. nothing happens for a couple days, business as usual as you go about the normal routine. until one night, the cold air outside forgotten with the temperature of your room, the blankets draped over you warm and cozy. König stares at the ceiling, aching cock restrained by his boxers. five minutes, five horrible minutes of waking up and not moving, thinking about taxes and deployments - anything to get his early morning wood down. when you shift beside him he glances at you, heat rushing up his neck to his face

he’s quiet when he tugs his underwear down, wincing when the mattress dips as he shifts. his gaze lingers on your face, soft and calm as you breathe out. he doesn’t think he can properly fuck you, not like this, but he’ll make it work. careful as he shimmies your underwear down, breathing a little heavier as he runs his index finger across your slit. he’s a little mesmerized as he works his digit into you, gaze switching between your cunt and face whenever you make a small noise. his middle finger slips in too, coaxing you open as you sleep. honestly, he gets a little caught up in it, momentarily forgetting about his weepy cock. you’re just so pretty like this, body limp and relaxed, letting him touch you like glass. pulling his hand away, the moves a little closer, slowly rubbing his tip against your clit

he’s carefully, a little nervous as he presses himself to you. shuddering when he bullies his head into you, little, controlled bucks of his hips making him whine softly. he doesn’t want to push his luck, stilling himself as he breathes out. he can do it, he’ll make sure you don’t wake up. swallowing thickly, he moans quietly as he pumps his cock, shallow little movements as he fucks his tip into you. you feel so warm, slick around what he’s worked into you. just a little faster, he’ll be quick - jerking himself off with his leaky tip snug inside of you— you’ll wake up with him leaking out you. that’s what you want, right? your half-lidded eyes looking up at him when you told him, voice low and raspy from the nap you had taken, sleepy smile on your lips. it’s okay if he uses you a little, liebling, he’ll make it up to you when the sun rises, eat himself out of you if you want

the thought alone has König shuddering, his hand gripping himself a little firmer as he works just a little more of himself into you, nerves searing up his spine as he gasps. it’ll keep your tummy nice and warm, maybe you’ll thank him with a dopey little smile, soft spoken praise for doing a good job. he’s quick to pull out afterwards, gently tugging your underwear back up. chest raising and falling, he sits back, eyes glued to the little damp spot on your crotch. you were so good for him too, sleeping through his depravity and dreaming. he’s careful as he settles back under the covers, tucked himself back into his boxers. he’ll worship you in the morning, kiss you like porcelain and handle you with care. his sleepy girl deserves to be comfortable

bonus thought because the voices won’t shut up

CW: still Fem!Reader and sleepy sex, stuffed animal

König buying the softest, cutest stuffed animal. he knows you like them, and he thought it’d be a nice gift. it’s good to cuddle with at night, especially when König is on a deployment and can’t be there for you. it’s hardly a replacement for the behemoth of a man, not nearly as warm and firm as he is, but the little stuffie does it’s job. and, oh, is it worth it to come home to you padding around with it, tired little yawn leaving you as you hug it to your chest. he’s tired too, kicking off his boots as you happily approach him, a little lethargic and dreamy as you hug him, your precious little stuffie squished between him and you

it’s not his fault you look adorable, taking his hand before leading him to bed. resting sounds amazing, compared to the piss poor cot he had to sleep on while deployed, your shared bed is a luxury. but he isn’t lulled to sleep when he gets into bed, and it’s not too long until you’re moaning prettily for him. eyes fluttering closed and clinging to your gift from him, you look so soft. he’s a little rougher than usual, murmuring soft apologizes that are in one ear and out the other. he’s filling you up so nicely, his pace is still comfortable - a consistent rocking that leaves you dizzy and blissful. you’re sure that you’ll be drifting off as soon as you’re done, mind already foggy. content, his chapped lips pressing a featherlight kiss to your forehead as you moan, stuffie held close to your chest as you nod off, König slowly pulling out and petting your hair

[yeyinde]

the therapist x Price ask has me thinking terrible things. but what if instead of helping him with anger management, you're his marriage counsellor.

With your colleague's early retirement on the horizon, you take over several of his files, and among them is Mr and Mrs Price. A marriage on the brink of collapse, he writes, but both are willing to work things out.

As if.

You're not one to pick sides—it's morally, professionally, and ethically wrong—but you really wish Mrs Price had better friends. Or someone in her life to pull her aside and tell her to run because as much as she seems to want to work at these issues that plague her marriage, it takes you only a handful of sessions to realise this is impossible.

And the reason is just—

John Price.

Unprofessional? Yes. Wrong? No.

Your colleague's notes about Mr Price being the driving force behind keeping the marriage intact seem almost farcical looking back because that seems to be the very last thing on his mind.

He goes into each session with the single-minded goal to tear through any progress made—and that's only when he shows up. And in this particular profession, you're used to combativeness. The guarded nature of people is a hurdle you can often overcome with logic and solutions to their problems, but Mr Price's walls have walls. His armour is thick, and impenetrable, and he's—at best—unwilling to participate in any meaningful way.

And at worst—he spends most of the session arguing with you. Needling over everything you say. Ignoring any attempts to steer the conversation back to the idea of salvaging his marriage in favour of riling you up. Disrupting the natural order of accountability and progress just to see you flustered. Asking personal questions. Coming in earlier just to nitpick your talking points. Letting his wife leave before he does, and using the time to go over his startling accolades like the thought of chasing her, taking her to dinner, didn't even cross his mind. A man with one foot out the door, and almost no interest in turning around.

He's bullish. Compromising. Stubborn—

"—and a pigheaded oaf of a man!" You seethe, ethics fleeing from the room as you dig yourself a spot on your boss's couch, and take hearty gulps of the Chardonnay he offered with a grim twist to his lips. "Every time we get close to the truth, to a breakthrough, he jumps ship! Pulls away! But then has the audacity to question me because his wife isn't changing her mind on the divorce? In what goddamn universe is this my fault?"

He clears his throat, looking more than a little bemused. "Uhh. Have you tried—"

"Talking to him one-on-one in a confrontation-free way to try and get him to open up? Yes! And he spent the whole session avoiding the issue and making redundant comments about me, my life! What do my future plans have to do with his marriage? My relationship status! If I want kids! It's absurd!"

"Interesting. And have you considered—"

"All of it! There's no getting through to him. I don't even think he really wants this marriage to work out which is so different from what the counsellor they had before told me. He was trying back then. Said he'd let her divorce him over his dead body, and now? Two decades down the drain. I just don't get it."

"Well." His brow lifts, and he seems almost worried for a second before he scoffs. Shakes his head. "I think I do. Good luck, hon. He seems like the sort of man who knows exactly what he wants."

It takes all of your willpower not to reach out and grab the whole bottle from the table. Professional, you think. And that's what John called you, isn't it? Well—

Smart little girl, aren't you? Is what he growled out, arms folded over his chest as you—indiscreetly—ushered him towards the door. "But you don't know what you're doing, love. Gonna get yourself in over your head—"

The little girl prickles over your nerves. There's something about him that makes you want to lash out.

"I can handle myself, John."

He leaned down, shoulders tense. Eyes blazing. This man, you realise, is all fire. All heat. You fight back a shiver, meeting his stare head-on.

"Oh, I hope you can."

A challenge, right? Maybe he's another misogynist in a choking, crowded sea too blinded by his own ego to admit that maybe you could help him if he let you. Pretentious, self-righteous prick—

It really doesn't surprise you when the dissolution of his marriage happens a week later. Irreconcilable differences. Go figure. But what does surprise you is finding John Price standing outside your office only several days after the contractual obligations you had with them end.

The sight of him, stripped of any professional distance, makes you tense. "If you're here to complain, you'll need to file a—"

In hindsight, you should have seen it coming. The signs were there from the onset. Mrs Price's frigid anger at the end, and John's interest in you beyond the therapist. But when he pushes you against the door of your office, pulling you into a searing, demanding kiss that siphons the air from your lungs, all you can think is huh? and when did this—?

He doesn't really give you much of a chance to say any of that, though. Just devours you whole like he's been waiting his entire life for this moment, hands biting into your flesh, gripping tight. Refusing to let go even for a second. Even to let you breathe. Just grunts into the lax seam of your mouth about how much a goddamn little tease you are, tempting him like that when he was still a married man.

"But you can handle me, can't you, sweetheart?" He rumbles, fingers rasping over the skin of your nape. "Said so yourself, didn't you? Actin' all naughty even when you were pantin' at me like a bitch in heat. But don't worry, I'll make an honest woman outta you yet."

"Um—"

(maybe you were, in fact, a little over your head with John Price.)

[lanawinterscigarettes]

Sweatshirt (Greg House x gn reader)

Summary: House gets jealous by a certain article of clothing you're wearing

Warnings: petty/jealous House (aka the best kind), heavily implied poly House x reader x Wilson in case that's not your thing, very mild and brief swearing

A/N: based off a random little thought I had. don't ask me when during the show this is supposed to be set because I have no clue

It was missing. Wilson's McGill sweatshirt was missing, and House was very upset. It was his turn to wear it, and although he could've sworn he left it balled up on his side of the bed before he left for work it wasn't there when he returned.

The thought popped into his head that someone might've stolen it, but that was just stupid. After all, who would break into his apartment just to take a sweater?

You, apparently, as he soon came to realize when combing back over his place to look for it. He hadn't noticed it on you at first when he walked in, but now it was hard to miss, like a bright red target painted across your chest.

He almost glared at the way you were casually lounging on the couch, reading a book as if you hadn't stolen from him. "You're wearing his sweater." It wasn't a question, rather a statement, which made sense due to how very obvious the fact was.

You looked up from where you'd been reading and gave him an unimpressed look. "And you walk with a cane. Tell me something I don't know."

The corners of his lips quirked upwards into an amused half smile, but he tried to push his fond thoughts of you to the side for the time being. "You know, it's my turn to wear his sweater."

Letting out a hum, you dropped your eyes back down to the book in your hands and lazily turned the page. "Technically, it's my turn, after you decided to hide it for three weeks so I couldn't wear it."

That was true, he did do that. It was for no reason other than to mess with you, but now he was really started to regret his past decisions, something that rarely happened, if ever.

"You stole it from me, right out of my very own bed," he tried a different approach, putting on a face of mock hurt and offense in hopes of swaying you and getting it back. "Shame on you."

"You stole it from me first." Damn it, you had him there. "I was just returning the favor."

House stood there in front of you for a few minutes more hoping you'd somehow break with no such luck. Sighing loudly, he flopped down in his armchair, giving you a dirty look. "You know, two wrongs don't make a right."

You glanced up from your book, peeking at him from over the top of it. "An ethics lecture coming from you of all people? Well, this oughta be good." Now, it was your turn to be amused, something that didn't bode well with his competitive nature.

Seeing as it wasn't going to happen any other way, he tried a more direct approach in order to get you to give it back. "I want it. I want to wear it. It's mine."

"Technically, no, it's not. It's Wilson's, and I'm borrowing it," you pointed out, appearing unbothered by the evil look getting thrown your way. "Go find something else of his to wear if it's upsetting you so bad."

"I don't want to wear something else, though," he whined obnoxiously, trying to get on your nerves. It was working, but not nearly enough to get him what he wanted.

"Tough, because I'm wearing it right now. You're just going to have to deal with it."

Part of you thought that maybe you'd won this argument when he got up and left the room, but that thought was soon diminished when he came back less than a few minutes later, throwing something at your head.

"Really?" You asked in obvious irritation while pulling the shirt he'd thrown at you off your head.

"Put that on, and give me the sweatshirt back. That way you'll still feel all cozy and close to your doting boyfriends without having to wear that specifically," he reasoned as he stood there, his hands resting on the top of his cane. He looked proud of himself, like he was a little kid who'd finally solved a puzzle.

Despite your annoyance, it was hard to keep the slight smile off your face. Still, you weren't going to let him win that easily. "I'm not wearing it because of sentimental value. I'm wearing it because it's comfortable."

He groaned loudly, becoming visibly annoyed. "Why must you always be so damn difficult?"

"Funny, I could ask you the same question," you muttered as you held up the shirt and took a good look at it. It was one of House's old band tees, which made you realize something. "Hold on, are you jealous because you don't get to wear the sweatshirt, or is it because I'm wearing Wilson's clothes and not yours?"

The obvious pout on his face quickly gave away the answer. "Just give me the sweatshirt now, and I'll promise I'll give it back later." He held his hand out expectantly, resulting in you throwing his shirt back at his face.

"Nice try, but you're going to have to pry this off my cold, dead body." You settled back into the couch with your book as he walked away, grumbling under his breath. It appeared as though you'd won the battle, for now at least.

End notes: I've never written for House before but I tried to capture his personality the best I could! Hope y'all liked the Hilson references sprinkled in lol

Likes < reblogs | comments are greatly appreciated | requests are currently open

Main masterlist | House MD masterlist | wanna be added to my taglist?

🏷 taglist: none yet to tag

[crystallinestars]

Kissing Headcanons

Since this won the poll, here are the promised kissing headcanons for Jing Yuan, Argenti, and Aventurine!

Disclaimer: I haven't finished the 2.1 main story, so my interpretation of Aventurine may be a bit off. I'm going off of my interpretation of him from 2.0, as well as a few screenshots I saw around the internet.

WARNING: Contains a spoiler for Aventurine's real name!

Jing Yuan:

🦁 Jing Yuan likes kisses a lot, but he’s careful to reserve them for when you’re in private. He doesn’t want anyone to intrude on your romantic time together and is aware that he must look professional while at the Seat of Divine Foresight. That is why the majority of affection he shows you is done at home.

🦁 Jing Yuan enjoys receiving good morning kisses when he wakes up beside you, as well as good luck and farewell kisses when he parts from you to go to the Seat of Divine Foresight. If you don’t give him at least one kiss before he leaves in the morning, he’ll pout and try to weasel one out of you. He won’t leave until he at the very least got to kiss your cheek.

🦁 When he doesn’t feel like doing his paperwork, Jing Yuan will come to see you instead. At your insistence that he should finish his stack of documents, he’ll demand you give him kisses to motivate him to work. As childish as his requests may seem, your kisses do seem to give him the energy he needs to finish his paperwork. Only after holding you captive in his arms and indulging in your lips for longer than he should, of course.

🦁 If you feel down and in need of comfort, the Luofu General wraps you up in a gentle hug and tenderly presses his lips to your forehead. His words may not be the most comforting, but with that kiss, he shows you that he cares about your well-being, and hopes to give you the comfort you crave.

🦁 Jing Yuan’s kisses are slow, yet firm. He likes to place a hand on the back of your head and pull your face closer, capturing your lips in a tender kiss. It’s unhurried and firm, his soft lips melding against yours as his hand brushes through your hair, lightly combing through it. He only pulls away when you both run short of breath.

🦁 He gives you time to recover because he can tell that his kisses leave you a little dazed and awed at how loved they make you feel. During moments like these, he looks at you with fondness and amusement, as if he were looking at a small, cute animal. You are simply too adorable for him to resist, so don’t blame him when he pulls you into another long kiss before you’ve fully recovered from the first one.

Argenti:

🌹 Argenti’s kisses are full of his heartfelt feelings for you. He is a passionate man, and that passion transfers to romance, and subsequently kisses, as well. He feels touched when he receives kisses on the cheek as a thank you for saving someone, especially if they come from you, but he seldom gives kisses himself. The Knight of Beauty takes kissing very seriously, and will only kiss someone he truly loves.

🌹 His go-to places to kiss you are usually your hands. Like the gentleman he is, Argenti likes to take your hand and place his lips on the back of it in the lightest of kisses, his mouth just barely brushing against your skin. He tends to give you these types of kisses when you are going out for a romantic date or when he is courting you because they are a display of his reverence for you.

🌹 Argenti also adores kissing your palms. He takes your hand and places it on his cheek while looking at you with verdant eyes filled with adoration and devotion, as if he were so smitten with you, that you were the most important thing in the universe to him. With a heartfelt proclamation of his love for you, Argenti turns his head to place a tender kiss on your palm, much more firmly than how he kisses the back of your hand. With these types of kisses, Argenti wants you to know how much he cherishes your very existence, and how lucky he is to call you his lover.

🌹 Since Argenti is the epitome of a gentleman, he tries to avoid overwhelming you with his kisses. When kissing you on the mouth, he takes things slow. The way he cradles your face in his hands is gentle as if he were handling porcelain, and he makes sure to lean in slowly to give you time to pull away if you don’t want this. You never do, of course, but he won’t stop taking things slow and gentle until you make it clear to him that you are not only okay with but also want to receive more intense kisses from him. Only then does Argenti allow himself to kiss you with the passion that flows inside him, yet one he restrains for your comfort.

🌹 With your consent, Argenti will give you the most passionate and sensual kisses you’ve ever experienced. He leads the kiss with tenderness and fervor, supporting the back of your neck as he angles your head just right to deepen the kiss. He’s not afraid to use his tongue, skillfully slipping it into your mouth and caressing your own in an intimate dance that leaves you breathless and weak in the knees. For all his gentlemanly behavior, Argenti isn’t shy about expressing how much he desires you.

🌹 Even so, he is still loving and tender towards you. Argenti likes to hold your hands or face when kissing you, and once he pulls away, he gazes at you affectionately while brushing the back of his hand along your cheek or tucking a stray lock of hair behind your ear. Every action is filled with care. He may not be the best at expressing his true feelings with words, but his actions speak louder than words ever will about how much he loves you.

Aventurine:

🦚 Aventurine had some prior experiences making out with people, so he knows exactly what he’s doing when kissing you. The gambler likes to catch you by surprise with a heated and sensual kiss, one that leaves you flushed and breathless by the end. Biting on your lower lip and tugging at it, slipping his tongue in your mouth, and even sucking on the tip of your tongue are all things he does to get a reaction out of you. The more flustered and weak in the knees you get, the more smug he looks when he pulls away, a string of saliva connecting your mouths. Licking his lips while giving you a mischievous and pleased grin, he’ll look like a cat that got the cream as he observes your flushed state.

🦚 Aventurine is great at erotic and sensual kisses, he can give them as easily as he can receive them so you’ll never fluster him with one of those. However, he feels completely out of his element when you give him sweet and tender kisses. Aventurine is not used to receiving gentle affection, and at first, it scares him because it’s such an unfamiliar sensation that touches him deep in his heart.

🦚 He's used to heated make-outs that don’t mean anything other than lust in the end once the other person leaves, but your sweet kisses aren’t like that. The way you press your lips against his skin is soft and loving, the way a true lover would. Unlike those people he encountered in the past, you truly love him. Not the money he owns, not his powerful connections, not his material possessions—what you love is him. With time, Aventurine realizes that you’re not with him for a fun and exciting fling, but for something more long-term. You genuinely love him. Not his persona as Aventurine, but him as Kakavasha.

🦚 The way you cradle his face as you kiss the top of his head, your lips soft and warm against his cheeks, temples, and forehead all make his breath hitch and heart squeeze almost painfully. The gentle kisses make him want to cry, and he hugs you tightly for reassurance and comfort. When you sweetly kiss him on the mouth, Aventurine practically melts. He never knew how good such gentle affection could feel until you came into his life and gave him the affection he’d been subconsciously craving. As emotional as this makes him, Aventurine finds a sense of solace in your tender touches and he wants to feel more of your love even though he sometimes feels undeserving of it.

🦚 Aventurine also likes receiving kisses on other parts of his body, such as his neck and shoulders. He enjoys it when you hug him from behind and press your lips onto the skin of his shoulder or back. It’s such a small thing, but the gesture feels intimate and loving, proof that you love and want him. He tries to hide it, but such kisses make him shiver in a good way.

🦚 Despite enjoying having his neck kissed, Aventurine doesn’t like you touching his tattoo since it can bring up bad memories. However, if you kiss him there as an act of comfort when he feels depressed, it can give him a bit of solace. Though in times like these, he finds the most comfort being wrapped up in your arms and reassured with gentle words and soft kisses to his forehead. It might take a while for Aventurine to feel comfortable enough to be this open and vulnerable with you about his feelings, but please don’t give up on him. Don’t abandon him after you have shown him how amazing real love is.

[thexsilentxwordsmith]

Simon fucking you brainless, literally until you can't go anymore, and then rubbing your head like this as you pass out beside him.

Cigarette between those kiss raw lips Simon takes another drag, pulling the smoke deep into the base of his lungs. This latest round of fucking was intense to say the least: sweat pouring, moans echoing, parts overstimulating, headboard pounding, all cumulating in a night of rough ecstasy that left the both of you satisfied but ridiculously fucking exhausted.

Copper eyes shift over to the resting body next to him in the bed. The covers are pulled up just enough to cover over their glisten body, but only up to their hips leaving their back exposed. He concentrates on the silky smooth surface that is faced to him as he counts the freckles along your shoulder blades, admiring the gorgeous specimen that keeps his needs met and his balls empty.

Fucking hell he cannot seem to ever get enough of you no matter how many times you frequent his room. The way you taste when he is between your legs as he coats himself in your juices, the way your tight little pussy feels as you're wrapped around his cock, the way you keep up with his insatiable appetite time and time again like the good little obedient doll you are sends him spiraling even just to think about.

Obsessed isn't quite the word, but fuck do you have him wrapped around your goddamn finger already.

And he's more than willing to let it stay that way.

Watching the rise and fall of your back as you calmly lay there, breathing in slowly and steadily with your eyes closed on the verge of sleep, he itches to show a bit of extra care to the one giving her all to keep him satisfied.

He places the cig from his fingers back between his lips and holds it there as he reaches one of those big, meaty hands over towards you. Those thick digits finding the back of your head and he laces them through your hair as you stir just slightly.

Tenderly he begins to comb them through the strands, massaging your scalp with a touch as gentle as he can; that can be a task for someone know for his roughness, but he's trying.

"Mmmm...feels good," you hum at the soothing feeling, letting him know that his efforts aren't in vain. He's taken a lot out of you, but it was worth all the fatigue in your limbs just to get this type of treatment.

He's gotta take care of his princess so she can keep taking care of him; if there's one thing he's not gonna do is let a good fucking thing run out by overusing it.

"Rest now, luv," he murmurs quietly in that low, husky, thickly accented voice, his fingers continuously stroking and stroking in slow even circles around your head until he is sure you are out.

The way you are curled up beside him, sleeping tightly snuggling your pillow soundlessly, he realizes that fuck, he really lucked out when he met you.

Maybe... maybe...

...he's actually a little obsessed.

[going-to-ikea-for-the-fries]

It's a Match! || 141 x reader

[ Chapter 8 ] || [ Chapter 10 ]

Pairing: Ghost x gn!Reader || 141 x gn!Reader Words: 1.2K~ Summary: While overcoming recent heartbreak, you decide to join Tinder in search of a rebound. Your friends advise to just Swipe Right indiscriminately... What happens when 4 soldiers from the same squad match with you? a/n: i think Ghost always steals Soap's hygiene products bc he cannot be arsed to buy some for himself.

Chapter 9: Drinks?

The moment the helo touched down, the soldiers descended, each of them parting ways as they went about their regular business, returning their gear to the armory, debriefing, showering, eating…

Almost a whole hour after their arrival, Simon threw himself down onto his bed, his skin dewy from the shower, his hair combed to the front and dripping over his face.

He popped open the top drawer of his nightstand and fished out his phone and charger. He set the charger up and turned on the phone as it charged up.

Simon didn’t often use his iPhone. Sometimes he forgot he even had it. The only times he did was to check Soap’s and Gaz’s insta/snap stories (because he liked being up to date on what they were doing) and when they were all on leave and had parted ways, so he could check the groupchat. 

Once the phone turned on, he immediately beelined for Tinder and opened the app. The app lagged a bit at first but, open loading up, he saw it.

99+ likes, 99+ messages.

The big majority of them were girls, too young for him, thirsting for him, even with his face being hidden. He always knew he could attract people, so it didn’t exactly surprise him.

Rolling his eyes, he flicked his finger over the screen until he found your chat and clicked on it.

Simon: I’m back and in one piece. Simon: I think you need to wish me luck more often.

He didn’t expect you to answer him immediately, even if it was only 6 P.M. on a Tuesday and you’d likely be at home and free, considering the job you listed on your profile.

However, the Read notification popped up under his text almost immediately and your dm came right after without the app even announcing you were typing.

you: omg i was literally JUST checking to see if you had said anything you: welcome back!

The text made a smirk take over his scarred lips before he bit the bottom one and typed out a reply.

Simon: Have you been waiting to hear from me for 3 weeks? you: noooo Simon: That’s frankly adorable. Simon: Didn’t think I’d have gotten in your head that strongly. you: oh piss off simon. you: ur not that great. Simon: You’re still texting me. you: sooo???? Simon: So, I can’t be that terrible. Simon: Got your attention, didn’t I? you: oh piss off you: ur so cocky and for what Simon: Not cocky. Just sure of myself. you: no Simon. No? you: no 😤 Simon: Okay then. Simon: Suddenly not sure of myself because you deemed it so. Simon: I’m very insecure now. Simon: Is that better? you: stop being such a bloody smartass 🙄🙄🙄 Simon: You’re breaking my heart, sweetheart. Simon: I can’t take this. Simon: Going to go hug my pillow and cry some more. you: oh no you: i’m making the giant cry? 😱 Simon: Is that a dig at my height? you: YES Simon: My God, I’m going to cry even more. Simon: I’m being bullied. you: good!!! 😤 Simon: I’m making you pay for my therapy. you: pay for it yourself!!!! 🙄 Simon: How about I pay for dinner for the two of us one of these days instead?

You didn’t answer immediately after that. You always did that whenever he flirted with you and spoke about taking you out.

Simon had a shit-eating grin on his face, imagining that you were all annoyed at him behind the screen. He was right in guessing you were shy about going out, he assumed.

you: no. you: but you can buy me a drink tonight.

His jaw dropped and his eyebrows raised just a bit.

Simon: It’s a Tuesday night, are you sure? Simon: You know going out for drinks on a Tuesday is usually a sign of alcoholism? you: ur backing out now? you: wheres all that bravado of yours? Simon: Oh no, sweetheart. I’m not backing out, I’m asking if you’re sure. you: if i wasnt i wouldnt have invited you. Simon: Fair enough. Simon: Where? you: the same pub i met up with john at maybe? Simon: Rog. Simon: 30 minutes. you: i need longer to get ready. Simon: That’s fine. I’ll still be there in 30. you: are you going to be wearing the mask? Simon: 🤷‍♂️ you: SIMON you: YOU CAN’T BE PULLING OUT THE EMOJIS LIKE THIS you: YOU STARTLE ME EVERY TIME. Simon: Good. Simon: See you soon.

Setting the phone down on the mattress, Simon got up from bed and took off his towel, tossing it over the back of his desk chair before opening the top drawer of his tall dresser, grabbing a pair of black boxer briefs and putting them on.

Then, he rummaged through the other drawers looking for his one ‘going out shirt’™️ (which was actually a black long-sleeve compression shirt) which he put on along with a pair of dark jeans. It was a simple outfit. 

Then he slipped on some black boots. He threw on a leather jacket over that and tucked a black neck gaiter into the neckline of the t-shirt, hiking it up to cover his mouth and nose.

Barely a minute later, he was making his way into Soap’s room and across the small space that separated him from the bathroom. 

“Going somewhere, L.T.?” Soap probed from his spot at his desk, eyebrows raised and his eyes locked on the older man’s with intrigue. He rarely saw Ghost in civvies and even more rarely did he see him without a hoodie.

Unlike Ghost, Soap had made his officer’s quarters into his own living space, having brought in a gaming computer and chair, a small beanbag, and had plenty of knick-knacks around.

“Going out.” Ghost said simply as he grabbed Soap’s hair gel and squirted a glob of it into his hand before lathering them and using them to run through his blond locks which were exposed without the hoodie or signature balaclava.

“Out? On a date?” Soap asked Ghost as he quickly jogged up to the bathroom door, watching as Ghost fiddled with his hair.

“No. Just drinks.” Ghost replied as he tugged a bit as his hair to make it stand up straight. 

“Is this someone you found on Tinder…?” Soap probed as he leaned his shoulder on the bathroom door, a boyish grin on his lips.

Ghost looked over at Soap out of the corner of his eye as he finished fiddling with his hair and rinsed his hands under ice cold water in the sink.

Soap took Ghost’s silence as an affirmative response. “Pro’lly a shag too, hm?” He joked, earning him another glance out of the corner of his eye. “Bloody hell, L.T. tell me all about it later, yea?” He laughed.

“Fuck no.” Ghost added as he grabbed one of Soap’s cologne bottles and raised it up for a sniff before scowling at the scent and setting it down again.

“Aw, c’mon L.T.!” He pleaded. 

“Get your own date, MacTavish.” Then, he just made his way right out the door, forcing Soap to move out of the way, looking a bit like a wounded puppy. 

“I’m not getting anything interesting on there!” Soap lamented with a sigh.

“No? Well, I’m sorry for you, then, Johnny.” Ghost quipped as he opened the door again and stepped out into the hall, leaving Soap behind.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

taglist: @daisychainsinknots , @bunnysdaydreams , @iite-cool , @lahniu , @pagesfalling , @tapioca-milktea1978 , @live-love-be-unique , @thelaisydazy , @littleghosthunter , @bossva , @emotion-no-hot-yes-hotel-trivago , @chamomiletealeaf , @ghosts-hoe , @kariiiel , @ltbarnes , @irregulardongyoung , @spacelia , @hayleybarnesx , @infpt-zylith , @xxshadowbabexx , @frescoisnotinthemilitary , @leeeenistop , @lucienbarkbark , @zombie-freak , @wittleespur

@severenswife , @enarien, @agoodmoviekiss , @l0lziez , @whos-fran , @greatstormcat , @openup-yourmind , @neoarchipelago , @sodavrr , @cutiecusp , @lilliumrorum , @c-nstantine , @kneelforloki , @comeonatmebruh , @codsunshine , @waiting-so-long , @captainquake42 , @gazspookiebear , @mynameismisty , @reap3erslov3 , @reaper-chan666 , @poohkie90 , @kitwithnokat , @stick-the-dumbass , @mothsdrabbles , @justanerd1 , @thesinsoflust , @thriving-n-jiving , @blckbrrybasket

[chlmtsdoll]

IT’S NOT THAT COMPLICATED

౨ৎ Summary: you’re Art and Pat’s (mid)wife without the legal agreements. They both want to finally get you pregnant but who will be the one to shoot his shot first ? 🤭

౨ৎ 18 + | smut !, threesome, p in v (unprotected sex), heavy breeding kink, size kink, polyamorous relationship, domestic (mean-ish) reader, (mid 20’s) needy Art and Pat, angst, gayness, jealousy, religious themes here and there, inspo from Good Graces by Sabrina Carpenter 🩵

The entire house had been a complete and total mess.

You spent most of your weekdays like this — in your Skims sets, hair tied up in a neat ponytail only to end up in a messy bun by the time you were done cleaning up after the two boys who made up most of your life.

Unless they’d been at tennis practice of course.

You never could have pictured your life turning into this in your wildest dreams, especially when you’d never been the kind of girl who was into dating of any sort at all. You hated it really. The chase, the frustration, the uncertainty. Since you were a little girl, all you knew was that you wanted to accomplish receiving the home of your dreams and a cute baby or two to keep your days a little less lonely. You couldn’t fathom it was too much to ask for.

And even though you really didn’t exclusively picture a man (or men) being apart of your future — early days at school, Art and Patrick would make it the competition of their lives to never leave you alone. Ever.

Since you all met your sophomore year of college, it was the two on their hands and knees at your feet. Both always striving for your attention, fancying you, stealing you away from your studies to try and make you settle for dating at least one of them — and to their surprise (or your luck) you never really did. So moving through your last years of class really pushed the three of you as close as a trio could get.

You didn’t exactly put tittles on whatever you had been since it wasn't your style anyway, and throuple just seemed so indifferent. You’d all been more than that. Art and Patrick were yours and you were theirs. You’d draw hearts around your names in all your text books. Picturing yourself rocking cradles and being theirs forever. You’d marry your boys if you could. It was a new upcoming part of your plan — but one worth diving into.

You really did adore them with every ounce of your being.

So eventually when they went pro and started competing full time, both Art and Patrick’s families supported your decision of getting a home together. A great chunk of what you’d always wanted finally coming to fruition. Which was why you didn’t really mind staying back to do the important things around the home that was perfect in every way to you. It was a necessity when you lived with two six foot successful athletes muddying up the place without even noticing it. You would make dinner yourself on the week days and they always helped out on the weekends. You picked out and folded their sports wear every night for them just so it would make the morning even a tad bit easier. You loved it, and you loved them.

Even if the home was almost always in need of a little clean up with how busy your lives had ended up being, you couldn’t say you didn’t admire that it was constantly filled with the endearment you all shared together — so just after a few months of moving in, you finally thought it was the perfect time to let Art and Patrick give you a baby.

As excited as they were when you laid it all out on the table and they’d been a hundred percent ready too, you hadn’t properly thought out how combative your husbands got when it came down to it. The first week you’d given them the green light, it was non stop arguments and fighting between the two for who would be the first impregnate you. And although you gave them a deadline, wanting to be in your second trimester by the end of the year, they still hadn’t come to a full agreement.

And you still weren’t pregnant.

It’s pushed you into having much more aggressive periods and definitely during ovulation. You wanted your baby right then. Right now. More than anything else in the world. It was why you made a promise to both Art and Patrick — so you didn’t have to deal with running through men. Trying to find the perfect one to give you what you wanted even into your thirties. There’s two of them. Which means double the assurance that you should have been pregnant by now.

You’d had a hamper between your hip and the washing machine as you were unloading the laundry you set earlier when you heard the front door being unlocked.

The foyer was filled with the loud conversation and laughter the boys brought home with them to greet you. — but you’d remembered that you just mopped the entire floor plan spotless. So you dropped the hamper instantly in a hurry,

“Wait- - Wait ! Shoes. Mud room.”

As you scurried up to them, the blonde and brunette had paused in their tracks to face you. Seconds away from placing their worked equipment and tiresome shoes on the sparkling clean floors, just before they had registered it been freshly washed. Both men melt into apologies and “sorry baby’s” roughly at the same time while you finally let yourself breathe again post saving the floors from a brutal de-makeover.

When you turned your back to grace the kitchen, taking out food and utensils to start on dinner it was of course moments till your husbands made their way to merrily greet you as they always did — unwashed and grinning like they didn’t just see you that morning. Art had sure to respectfully take off his cap when he walked in, his damp blonde curls scattered everywhere. They looked heavenly with the sweat he had brought with him too, and Patrick, even sweatier, snaked around the corner of the counter to embrace you from behind without a care in the world to his abhorrent musk filling up your senses so quickly.

“Hi, baby,” the brunette smirked down at your smaller figure from behind, he bent to press a kiss to your cheek whist grabbing your dainty waist in his own brawny hands.

“How’s our girl ?”

Art began to smile from the other side of the counter in front of you. The blue hue of his eyes twinkled as he looked over your relaxed figure carrying on with what you’d been doing. “How was your day, sweetness ?”

“I caught a movie.. then I came back and cleaned up around here.” You spoke so nonchalantly the boys had already caught on to the fact that you weren’t your normal excited self who was over the moon to have them home. It was odd.

“So, that���s why you haven’t started on dinner yet..” Patrick chuckled, still behind your shoulder as he peered down at you, and you only glanced up at him with a mainly forced but soft simper.

“Oh, I’m so glad you noticed.. because you’re finishing it.” You only tapped Patrick’s freckled nose with a smile was laced with hints of sarcasm too smoothly, and as you looked between the two, their own glad expressions started to slip away when they really noticed your demeanor was not having it. You’d been pissed.

“So.. you’re not-”

“No. Do it yourselves,” you dried your hands on a cloth and shoved it off before removing yourself from Patrick’s embrace to exit the kitchen without a care. The boys watched your movements with frozen looks.

“I mean, we all should equally feel the current of not getting what we’ve been waiting for, right?”

As you stopped yourself from walking away to face them again with a look on your face that was holding back a thousand words of real rage, with just a cover of curiosity to how they could be so oblivious to your own needs — Art observed you from over his shoulder with a furrowed brow that also tugged a frown on his expression before he spoke.

“Baby- -”

“No. We had an agreement.” Your voice raised in pitch and you tried not to pout. Stand your ground. “I want a baby. And I still don’t have a baby.. and it’s ridiculous b-because, it’s not that complicated. Theirs two of you for fucks sake!”

You were angry, and quite upset. And even though you were pmsing, that wasn’t why. It was the exact problem.

Your emotions were at an all time high, and both men could have put that together at the way your voice shook, and nose had done that flair thing it did when you were at the peak of crying. Just on the verge of tears. But they had to know how you felt. And the way Art and Patrick observed you now, had affirmed they were taking in how it must all feel on your end.

“I thought we were in this together- guys. I-I thought we were ready to start a family…” your eyes switched between the two and their dejected faces before they both erupted into words of reassurance to decline to your state. Making their way over fast to where you stood, to be in the presence of their much shorter but adorned wife.

“We are!” The brunette huffed out.

“We’re a team.. that’ll never change, angel.“ the blonde one spoke over the other, and you crossed your arms as you looked up at both your tall and handsomely gorgeous (but very stupid at times) boys.

“Then fix this.. Get it together among yourselves like grown men who actually want a baby. Because bickering about who’s gonna get me pregnant first won’t get us anywhere.”

You breathed out deeply and searched their obedient assertion before Art and Patrick both nodded to each other in guilt of their actions. They knew how much you wanted this. And you confirmed you didn’t necessarily have to stop at just one.. you’d wanted a little bunch really — so both of your boys would have created something with you.

Their strife for who got there the quickest though, had been totally picked up from ego.

“We’ll.. come to it settled by tomorrow. But really, cut the chase baby, Patrick is just in it for all the sex with you… so your answers right there.” Art commented as he only half joked at Patrick’s wit to selfishly get you laid back to back.

The brunette retreated with shoving the other man in his side. “Fuck. Off. If I was in it for the breeding kink alone I’d say that… probably- -” Patrick defended in all seriousness to his nonsensical answer, and they had both scoffed at each other — you rolled you eyes.

This had been the root of your tiredness.

Sometimes you didn’t even know why you agreed to this. They could be such idiots. Lovable ones although. Enough that you’d let them be the fathers of your children evidently.

“Just… hurry up. Or I promise, I won’t let either of you touch me.” It was between you and god how true that statement actually was. But your eyes met their green to blue in all seriousness before you turned away again. “And wash yourselves before coming in my kitchen next time.”

It took every fiber of your being not to turn back and gently leave them with kisses after such a talk — but you had to show them you meant it. that you really weren’t fucking around this time. You’d definitely classify yourself as a much attentive wife. Always too nice to both of them, but they’d known how fast you could switch up like that — being as sweet as an angel one moment then not giving a fuck the next.

And it’s what they deserve for not attending to your needs too. Although you’d all still been fairly young and they were used to just being careless boys, constantly fucking things up time to time. But now that you’d all spoken out on being ready to settle down, they had to show you they truly meant it. That they wanted this just as badly as you did.

So if locking yourself in your room without your husbands, dickless and babyless would do the trick, then so be it.

It was bound to pay off, because around two weeks later when you let the boys know you were ovulating. They wasted no time to be on you every second of every day.

Fucking was all you’d known this time around, day and night Art and Patrick would take turns filling you with as much of their seed as possible. Giving you the most otherworldly orgasms you’d probably ever experienced got you letting them fuck you in as many ways as they could fit in between the hours they didn’t have tennis and could just be with you. There was something about you wanting them so badly to plant their own inside you, and something about them taking their greedy turns over you till the light of dawn made your sex drive triple it’s increase. The boys would end up arriving late to practice after making your body the judge of who’d be the one to carry your first born.

It all came down to when Art had no rein to miss when his sponsors asked him to be of attendance to a leading event. — which also lead to you and Patrick staying the night indoors, alone, without your other counterpart.

“Please ?”

“We shouldn’t, Patrick. He’ll be upset that he wasn’t here, you know how Art gets.”

Patrick scoffed off your words as he fast walked (chased) after you into the bedroom, “pssh. He has a sponsorship. He’ll be fine… c’mon baby, how am I supposed to make you a mommy if you don’t let me try?” Patrick grinned as he sauntered closer to where you stood. That grin on his face that said he’d already been painfully hard, you knew like the back of your hand. When Patrick towered over you untamed and pressed a deep kiss to your jaw line, you met him where he took your hips with his selfish hands — just below him you let your half husband leave kisses down your neck with that damn luring smirk on his face, still.

You shook your head and rolled your eyes playfully at his acts to get you to let him fuck you without Art around like usual. You already knew the petty excuse you’d use to tell him you didn’t go against the agreement you all kept. Only having intercourse when it was the three of you while trying to conceive, since you’d all be equal parents to the child.

Although, it was without a doubt that Patrick had a way with his undeniable charming nature, and it almost always paved the path to you just giving into the calculated man at some point.

He was pulling you on to his lap by the time you two reached the bed. His slightly calloused hands exploring, kneading your skin. Your breath hitched and Patrick let out a slow devious laugh as his grip on you wondered till it embraced your breasts and the man groped you with all pleasure. “These are gonna be so full when you get pregnant, baby. I can’t wait.” He had that cheeky grin as your eyes panned down at him from your position in his lap. You only let out a soft chuckle as you we’re totally more focused on when he’d get his pants off.

“I swear to god Patrick, I’m not fucking around. You better put a baby in me or I’ll have Art do it.” Your voice was pungent but remained sweet overall. The brunette snickered as he kissed on your chest anyways,

“Just relax baby doll, let me take care of it. Trust me you’ll be pushing a stroller before you even finish.” Patrick groaned into your skin. He continued pushing up your shirt and going straight to your nipples to place his lips with a soft curse while you put your hands in his hair just to watch the way he acted as if he’d been at starvation from you.

Deep down you knew for a fact Patrick had only been motivated to the whole baby making process for the kink of it all. The messy and wild sex constantly. Getting to cum in your pussy rein free as many times as he pleaded without a break, being the one to say you’d been carrying his child he planted inside of you. He was a thousand percent deep into a breeding kink since you’d all been in college. And no matter how much he tried to deny it these days, it didn’t even amount to the way he’d boast about loving to just see the sight of you pregnant and fully round, struggling to do simple daily tasks as your bump grew and grew every day. Meanwhile, it being all caused by him. The fantasy stroked his ego in a way like no other. He’d for sure end up being the type to tell friends the exact position you’d been in when he knocked you up. It was more of a contest of manly hood for the tennis player and you surely knew that.

On the other hand, Art had been dreaming of starting a family since practically a kid, he’d been proudest to say. He was in it not just for himself in a way that made him overwhelmingly happy to have a little one of his own to take care of, but for you. Making sweet love to you day and night, trying for the possibility of making a mini version of himself and you — just because he adores your personality and features so much that he’d want them in his own offspring. Art idolized the bond you two have that much. Always the one out of your husband’s to be doing as much research as he could in his free time by reading up on what were the best chances of giving you a baby and making the experience the most pleasurable for you. What would be healthiest way for you to give birth, baby names, and when you previously found his YouTube search history had been filled with how to properly build a cradle, or how to swaddle a new born. It made your heart all warm and mushy feeling. Jumping around underneath your chest even.

It was the cherry on the top of your ideal life. And you knew the right way to go deep down.

But as Patrick lowered your hips against his, skin on skin, and heated kisses in the middle of your make-out session being the only thought to cloud your mind — you’d been blinded by the one sided-ness of the man and the opportunity to end all anticipation of getting pregnant as soon as possible.

“Yeah, yeah- - just like that..” you panted as the brunette watched you while he was quick to lift himself and you to pull down his sweats and align himself with your entrance. Your hands had been wound to his shoulders while he reached for your ass in preparation of you taking his sized up cock like you owned it. And he lived for that. Patrick was dripping of pre-cum beneath you already. “Put it in.” You breathed out whist beginning to slide down his member as he pushed up into you. A low groan coming from the tease of a man, and the back of his head lost balance in your hands as you began to move on top of him.

“Take my cock baby… fuck, you feel good.” His low grunts and hands getting you to rock your hips faster was enough to get your skin feeling as if it been lit on fire. Your jaw agape enough to when Patrick put his lips on yours — you’d been met by his tongue on instant, sloppily kisses were laid in between your combatting lips. Patrick pulled a clean moan out of you as your legs begin to tremble at his penetration being rough to your walls on instant.

“Mmm- Pat… oh,” you’d been riding him on the edge of the king sized bed. Bouncing like there was no tomorrow in such little time. Your drive has just been insane, you could fuck like you took meals. The feeling of the finely built man running against the cave of your sensitive cunt assured you, this was it. You were getting pregnant by the end of tonight. If it weren’t for the astonishing thick walls, your moans could of filled every hallway of the house by now.

That was until the creek of the masters door had been a distracting note. And the blonde that appeared in it even more so.

When your movements froze and Patrick’s kisses to your neck loosened, the two of you were startled to see the sight of Art coming through that very doorway with a perplexed but not at all surprised look of predictability on his face.

Instead of pulling Patrick out of you to greet your other lover, the smile on your face only grew as you stared over at the less disheveled man placing his back pack on the floor.

“Hi, baby.” You would of been questionably chipper to most, but for the three of you this was as normal as it gets.

“Oh, don’t let me stop you.” Art shrugged softly as his crystal blues examined the heat you and Patrick had created in the atmosphere.

“But.. do you really want a brunette ? Wouldn’t you prefer the baby be- - I don’t know… A blonde ?”

“Oh, fuck off, Art.” Patrick, who had still been inside you let himself fall back into the bedsheets with a groan. And you already knew the blonde had a grin of his own spreading across his lips. You closed your eyes with a deep exhale.

“Guys.. stop it.” you huffed as you pushed on the brunettes limp shoulder, with a soft eye roll that landed back on Art, your expression softened at the sight of your golden boy prancing closer to the two of you. Your smile appeared again. “Come join us baby.”

You knew Patrick would be annoyed and bitching over the fact he didn’t get to cum inside you himself before Art had shown up. But it didn’t matter so much to you when overall, you wanted Art to be as much involved as his own. Even if Patrick had been the one to shoot his shot first.

You slid off of Patrick to crawl closer and plant your lips on Art’s with a pleasant little noise of joy, which the blonde then sent his hands to hold your waist as he leaned into your affectionate greeting.

“Hi.” He chuckled as he leaned away to meet your eyes. Like he wanted nothing. Needed nothing but you.

“How did it go ?”

“Good- - it went good. Boring, really. But what I’m more interested in is how many times you two fucked today..” Art raised a subtle brow as he glanced between you and the sexually frustrated man who’d had his back turned away from you and Arts embrace at the moment.

If only hiding behind your flustered face was an option.

“Y’know.. you’re more than welcome to tune into the fifth round, Art.” Patrick spoke out to poke the other man again and before he could glance at you, his eyes widen with a plea of ‘really ? Five ?’ laced through it and you immediately shook your head.

“No, no..” you held Art’s face in your hands, high cheek bones made it easy to acknowledge his pre-frown. Before he could assume more, your eyes search his while you kicked Patrick’s shoulders slightly. “He’s being a dick. That’s not true…”

“Let him believe it, doll. Now, can we get back to it please ? We have a baby to make.” Patrick’s tone was smug and filled with the tension to just get to your wet enclosure, and before you could even shut him up again, Art did it for you.

“Well, for that to happen, you do know she has to be on her back right ? Or at least comfortable in some capacity..” Art questioned the man and Patrick scoffed at his remark.

“I knew that.”

“Did you ? You had her on top, I would of at least expected doggy style from you, man.”

“Why does it fucking matter?!”

“Because she’s fertile right now!”

“Art, when the fuck did you become a baby daddy ? Please, explain. Because I could like to know-”

“My god. Will you two just shut up and put a baby in me!”

You’d gotten so fed up with the two bickering over nonsense, you stood to your knees between them on the bed as your frustration was shown through your expression that was slowly but surely going dull.

“Honestly, with all this tension, and arguments.. when even was the last time you fucked ?”

Your eyes switch between the two boys who choked on their own tongues when you brought up them being the ones in absence of fucking out their frustrations with one another. And you tried to hide your smirk as best as you could behind your doting eyes.

You wanted them to feel like they’d been draining you by the second, like you’d leave and shut them out again if they didn’t just handle you like real men.

“You know what, that’s it.” Art stood up from your side and glanced down at both you and Patrick who’d been taken by surprise to his new found demeanor.

“You wanna be a mommy ? I’ll make you a mommy.”

Art tugged on the bottom of his white tee, to remove it from his body swiftly — revealing his burly pecks and excellent abs that round a grin from you as easy as could be. He grabbed your wrists firm but with rooted gentleness as he took you aside. “Patrick. Make use of yourself and lay back so you can hold her reversed cowgirl.” Those last few words were more than enough to get the brunette on board as he himself stripped to then make his way neat against the pillows and covers. Art built brief lustful eye contact with you, leading you to straddle Patrick’s lap. The blonde couldn’t stop himself from grinning, and you pulled your lip into your mouth as your patience began to burn quick and your need for both of the men started to rise with it.

Patrick’s hands were on your sides as he pulled you into him, leaning in close to your ear where you felt his soft lips meet your lobe, “I can’t wait to have you full of both of us, princess.” His voice rasped at the perfect tone that had your spine increase with chills. His hands help adjust we’re your ass met his thighs. And that’s when Art came hovering over the two of you — meeting you face to face with even more want than ever. Your lips press into one another divinely as you could of sucked his bottom lip into your own if he stayed there long enough.

You smile into the smooches anyways. Your light, your angel boy, gracious as ever, depressed his palm into the firm mattress beneath where you and Pat coexist, as he made himself comfortable on top. You kept kissing Art with deep hungry moans humming from your windpipe. A slow but fervent pace. It’s like the man could sense your wetness before he even reached down between your thighs to part your legs. But when he did, with tenderness and urgency, he made them just wide enough for how he and Patrick would need you to be for them.

The blonde’s slender fingers rub around your core and he wet his digits with your slick before dipping them in your cunt leisurely, “Patrick did prep you good, but let me.. us, take care of things for once, alright ? You just focus on feeling good.” Art ducked his head to watch the way he added another finger to disappear inside you and your whine was soft. But your focus was on him. He looked overwhelming gorgeous on top of you — golden curly locks followed his every move. You felt more assured then ever by the way his sweet words made your tense muscles shift. Soon, Patrick to your left, left soft kisses on your shoulder blade which that just made you melt.

He stroked his erection before inching to slide himself back inside your soaked heat, and you closed your eyes with a sweet whimper leaving your plump lips at the way the brunette slid though your walls again — Art’s tongue darted out to watch the way you sunk down on Patrick before his eyes. Getting ready to penetrate you himself, “keep holding her, Patrick. Make sure she’s relaxed.” The man on top of you murmured with dilated pupils and mouth practically salivating just witnessing it second hand.

You bit down on your lip while Art put his cock above where Patrick had been, working himself against your already pulsing cunt, begging to be used by the two gorgeous boys. And before finally pushing into you along with the brunette, Art pushed you farther on to your back against Patrick’s broad chest.

“Stay open for us like a good girl, we’re gonna make you a mommy for sure this time.” You heard Patrick’s voice come in with a grin, he held your thighs apart as Art bottomed out inside of you the same way Patrick had with an echoed grunt. The double penetration sent your mouth going agape straight away, your face scrunched up in pleasure and pain at the same time.

“oh- - oh, fuck” your breathing hitched as the men just filled you with their length and girth. The farther they burrowed in you, the quicker you realized you’d probably never get used to the stretch of taking both of their dicks at once, nor would you tire of it either. But this was what you needed. Right this second, to be breed and stuffed with enough cum you’d have more than sufficient chances to have one of their babies make it to growing within you.

The blonde and brunette had started to move at a steady pace, then quicker as time followed. You sometimes felt as if your body was meant to take them like this — your moans and cries escalating could of confirmed that with how you’d been coating their cocks with more of your juices as they fucked into you. Both men making pornographic noises of their own while getting to submerge into your sweetness at the same time. The friction of feeling one another setting off a different kind of euphoria that had been truly in a league of its own.

From Patrick pushing his heels into the comforter to pound up into you, and Art’s hands going opaque with veins as he gripped on to the side of your hips to ass — to keep you open for him to have the best access to your womb, made your eyes go teary with the impact of it all. The way their balls carelessly slapped against your ass that would surely be darkened with a bruise tomorrow. Thrusting without mercy made you feel a heavenly kind of dizzy at this point.

Art couldn’t help but grin at the bulge he and Patrick had been imprinting on your lower belly as you could only shriek and moan on their cocks in repetition like you’d been saying a prayer after every pound to your sensitive cunt.

“Fuck- - god, princess. You’re gonna make us daddies aren’t you ? That tummy is gonna be full with us just like it is now, and you’ll love it. I don’t think you’ll ever stop wanting to let us fill you with babies you can take care of.” Art had panted out into your ear with a airy chuckle and you were too fucked out to do anything but tremble more from his words, the brunette has been smirking in agreement.

“Shit. She’s gonna be so pretty lookin’, Art. Being at home with the kids, nurturing everything she touches like the sweet girl she is… just to get breed nice and round again and again, isn’t that right, pretty girl?”

You were over the edge. Completely cock drunk and fucked stupid by your boys who held you together in the mess they made of you. That’s when you couldn’t keep it back anymore. “Oh- yes… god, yes. Fuck !” A high pitched whimpering moan ripped through you as you came hard, leaving Art and Patrick’s overly slick cocks with yours and their creamy details.

“Oh, shit, shit !” The brunette cursed from over your shoulder.

“Fuck- - Patrick.. you ready ?” Art huffed as he and your other husband didn’t stop plunging into you. They took your overstimulated and overstuffed hole clenching them through your orgasm as the gateway to finally leave their seed to your body’s pride.

Taking their slowed thrusts back up a notch, the boys fuck into you till you cry and they both cum with a slew of groans and other curses like that. Your muscles couldn’t hold up. You let yourself collapse against Patrick’s skin as the two pumped ropes into your pussy till they’d been drained out.

Art snapped his eyes shut as he strained into you with a deep grunt. He palmed Patrick’s shoulder “don’t pull out- - don’t move.. stay in. For as long as you can.” Patrick kept his hips flush against you. Your legs trembled and your chest heaved repeatedly, your cunt began to feel numb. You brought your swollen lip between your teeth.

“Mmmh... Art- - I don’t know how much longer I can hold up..” your wide tearful eyes met the blonde’s gaze as he leaned even closer to take your hand in his, intertwining your fingers right then.

“I know, baby, I know.. but we have to make sure you have all the chances of getting pregnant.” The blonde kissed your knuckles as he stayed there with you — and Patrick did the same. Staying put and not letting up till they had been as sure as could be that you were having a child.

It brought a simper to your lips as your chest eased into a relaxed sigh. The two men finally pull out of you with low moans and you immediately sprawl on your back to smile to yourself on the bedsheets.

You’d been pregnant. You just knew it. You felt it. When Art and Patrick came together to create something out of their love with, and for you — you knew your prominent instinct couldn’t of let you down now. And only a single pregnancy test later, and a trip the three of you all took to your doctor. It had been confirmed. You were pregnant.

And to your pleasant surprise and overly joyous nature... Your first born would turn out to be a Donaldson.

[rottiens]

contents. true form sukuna, servant gn reader (you call him master), choking, typical sukuna canon (mentions of blood, massacres, eating people, etc.), he purrs because I say so c:

You think Sukuna can't hate you. At least, not as much as he seems to hate everyone else. Not for the way he allows you to be near him, breathing under his imposing shadow. Nor for the way he lets you approach his quarters while you watch him, half naked, cleaning his weapons with precision, while you kneel silently a few feet away.

In time, you come to believe that your presence is as comforting to him as his is to you, to some extent.

It is strange to look back and remember how you once served him against your will, with shackles on your hands and feet when you were dragged from your slaughtered village by the monster you now serve. Back then, terror choked you, knowing that at any moment you could be devoured by that grotesque mouth on his stomach that you watched demolish and swallow bones so easily. Your limbs trembled unceasingly in his presence. However, you have grown so accustomed to Sukuna that nothing about him seems to faze you anymore, not even when you wipe the blood from his hands, the dirt trapped under his fingernails after a brutal battle, or the grime left in his hair.

Carefully, your fingers slide through the tangled strands, combing them back. The contact causes Sukuna to tilt his head toward you, allowing you to pour warm water from the hot springs over his head with a vessel. The reddish liquid from the blood that remained there slides down his broad shoulders and chest, and the mouth that is usually so terrifying remains hidden beneath the still surface of the water. With his lower arms submerged, he almost looks like an ordinary man.

His chest rises and falls calmly, his throat exposed, the closed eyes show you an image of a relaxed sukuna that you see very rarely— The thought of attacking him invades you for a fleeting second, but you dismiss it before it grows because there was no way you could come out a winner against a hand-to-hand battle with a battle-skilled warrior like him. With the vessel, you pour more water over his hair; this time, it falls clean and crystal clear down his back.

As you bend down once more to fill the vessel again, you notice a slight tremor in the water around him, almost as if the aura emanating from his body is boiling. Your fingers touch his shoulders curiously, and Sukuna opens his lower eyes instantly. The expression on his mid-face that you catch a glimpse of is inscrutable from where you are.

“You're purring,” you say, without hesitation. It's an affirmation. He closes his eyes again, and you wonder what he's thinking. Perhaps out of a bravery born of the confidence he has bestowed on you, you add, “Like a cat.” Sukuna emits a sound that could be a choked laugh. A slight tremor in his throat suggests you have touched something in him. “We used to have one in the village,” you murmur, a hint of nostalgia permeating your words as you remember the feline walking gracefully around corners and rooftops, they were a sign of good luck to have one around and that he had chosen your village was more than an honor for you.

You had never noticed that Sukuna could produce such vibrations, perhaps because you had never been as close to him as you are now. It's not exactly like the purring of a cat, but it's as close as you can compare it to. The vibrations are born in his chest and spread throughout his body, making your fingers tremble on his shoulders. Fascinated by the discovery, you slide your hands to his chest, searching for the origin of the sound, perhaps it comes from where his heart should be.

The water bubbles violently, and before you can react, Sukuna moves with dizzying speed. Suddenly, you are trapped beneath him, his hand squeezing your throat, just enough to remind you who is in control, but allowing you to breathe.

Your hands remain motionless at your sides accepting your fate as the water dripping from his body slowly soaks you. The thick drops of water make you feel like your village cat, drenched by the rain as the villagers welcomed him into their homes. It was an honor to have him inside. Ironically, your last thought before you died might have been that, the memory of that furry feline, your only haven of happiness before you came under Sukuna's power.

You don't know how much time passes as you remain in that position. The mouth on his stomach remains lurking and hungry, slightly open. All four pairs of eyes are riveted on you, but for a moment you forget them. The purring gets louder, deeper, as if echoing from his chest each time he exhales.

“What were you trying to do?” his voice breaks the silence, forcing you back to reality. It takes you a moment to process that he's talking to you.

You lick your dry lips and stammer out a reply, your throat still constricted by his hand. “Master… I was just curious about the sound in your chest. I find it… comforting,” you confess, embarrassed, lowering your gaze to your wet lap.

Sukuna pulls back, releasing you from his grip, and dives back into the water. With one hand, he pushes back his hair, while his eyes roam up and down your drenched figure. You shiver at the contrast between your wet skin and the cold night wind. Sukuna clicks his tongue, visibly irritated by the fragility of human bodies.

“Withdraw. And change your clothes.”

“Master…” you say bowing your head in reverence before walking away, feeling his eyes bore into your back as you walk away.

What an interesting specimen, Sukuna thinks as the purring in his chest begins to fade.

[little-diable]

All to myself - Prof!Tom Riddle (smut)

Prof and priest fics are without doubt my faves. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: Another student tries to touch the reader, so Professor Riddle has to remind his TA that she is his, only his. Pwp

Warnings: 18+, smut, unprotected piv, oral(m), power play, profxta

Pairing: Prof!Tom Riddle x fem!TA!reader (1.8k words)

She felt his eyes on her, watching her every move as if he was worried about her doing something wrong, messing up his classroom. No matter what she did or touched, his eyes followed her around like a shadow. A shadow sewn to his boots, unable to escape her boss, the one whose every command she blindly followed. 

“I’ll expect your papers on my desk Friday afternoon, I won’t accept any tardiness.” Professor Riddle’s voice filled the room, instantly shutting up his chatting students. All eyes were drawn to his piercing ones, staring at the tall professor who acted like their god, the deity they’d have to worship. “If you have any further questions, find (y/n), she can help you.”

(Y/n)’s eyes snapped towards the professor, hands freezing midair. Not once had he addressed her like that in class and told his students that she could help them out, hidden in the dark corners of the room as if he was scared to share her with them. She couldn’t stop the heat from flushing through her, eyes forced back down to the book she had been combing through, highlighting the pages he had asked her to prepare. 

“I’ll see you next week.” With his last words echoing through the room, the students quickly rose to their feet, set on disappearing from the room and the professor they all feared. He watched them scurry out of the room, lips pulled into an almost satisfied smirk. 

“Did you find the pages, (y/n)?” He leaned against the desk, arms crossed in front of his chest, no longer caring about the handful of students who were still packing their things. She could only nod, unable to meet his eyes, not when she was reminded of the way he had touched her not even twelve hours ago, once again finding comfort in one another’s touch.

Well, perhaps it wasn’t about comfort for him, perhaps it was all about claiming her, about owning the young woman who had joined his class as a student last year and was now working for him as his teaching assistant. A power hierarchy she had always feared, not daring to overstep, at least not till he had made the first move, not giving her a way out. 

“Good, come to my office tonight so we can prepare for next week’s class.”

……

“Thank you so much for your help, (y/n).” A tight smile played on her lips, trying to keep her distance from the student who had found her a few minutes ago. She had been on her way to Professor Riddle’s office, carrying the books of his she had borrowed when the guy had forced her to a halt. He had instantly dropped his questions on her, smirking at the already annoyed woman. 

“Of course, now, if you excuse me, I need to find Professor Riddle.” She wanted to turn from him, wanting to disappear from the student who made her feel all too uncomfortable. But his hand darted out, fingers wrapped around her wrist to keep her close. Her breath hitched in her chest at the unwanted touch, eyes flickering from her wrist to his dark pupils. 

“Why the hurry, (y/n)? I think he can wait a few more minutes for you. Don’t you find it weird how he treats you? As if you’re some toy he owns.” Her throat felt tight, mouth too dry to reply, wanting to rip herself from the man’s grasp, though without any luck. The grasp he had on her wrist only got tighter, sure to leave marks she’d have to cover for the next days. 

“Let me go, please.” The student’s laugh was drowned out by the sound of fast-approaching steps, making a shadow appear behind (y/n)’s frame. Instantly the student let go of (y/n), trying to flee from the scene as Professor Riddle stared him down. Within seconds the professor had the guy pressed against the nearest wall, forcing a gasp from (y/n).

“If I ever catch you touching (y/n), even looking at her, I will end you. Do you hear me, Mister Kerry?” No reply left the student, unable to speak up, only able to quickly nod his head. The second the man let go of him, he fled from the scene, leaving (y/n) and the professor behind. 

For a few seconds, neither of them spoke, with Professor Riddle turning towards (y/n), eyes focused on her already bruised wrist. With wide eyes she watched him carefully reach for her hand, momentarily studying her skin before he began to pull her down the hallway, straight to his office. Her heart was pounding, racing against her ribcage to try and warn the oblivious woman of the danger lying ahead. But there was no escaping, she was tied to him like a boat tied to the dock, rocking with the waves though kept in place by the tight rope. 

“How did you find me?” (Y/n)’s whispers filled his barely alight office, drawing a dangerous chuckle from the man, a sound so strong (y/n)’s body kept trembling, littered with goosebumps. 

“It’s not typical for you to be late, and I seem to find you no matter where you are. I don’t share what is mine, and especially not you.” His voice dripped with possessiveness, hand cupping her warm cheek before his lips crashed against hers, leaving the woman moaning. Within a few moments (y/n) was forced against his desk, caged between the expensive wooden craft and his tall frame. “You’re mine, mine alone, never forget that, pet.”

“I won’t. I am sorry.” She wasn’t sure what she was apologising for, and yet it only felt right to do so. The words seemed to please the professor, studying her for another second or two before an almost teasing “Prove how sorry you are” left him. Without protesting, (y/n) dropped to her knees, glassy eyes staring up at the tall man, watching him free his already hard cock with skilled movements. 

(Y/n) parted her lips like she had done numerous times before, in this very position, for the brooding man only. He forced his cock into her mouth without another warning, finding enjoyment in her gasps, the surprise filling her eyes, the trembling of her hand. She was his pet, the one he had claimed the first time she had stepped into his office, forever his. 

“Atta, girl, such a perfect mouth.” Her hum left him groaning, ringed hand finding her hair as his head momentarily rolled back. Professor Riddle’s eyes fluttered close, enjoying the fast bobbing motion, the way her tongue took care of his ache just like he needed her to. If there was one thing (y/n) found pride in, it was satisfying the tall man, drawing these sounds from his mouth – sounds she’d think of whenever her thoughts started to wander. 

“C’mon, you can take a bit more, don’t hold back, pet.” (Y/n) struggled to take more, and yet she was set on following whatever he asked of her, trying to loosen her jaw. One tear after another spilt from her eyes, dripping down onto his expensive carpet, leaving yet another stain he’d never wipe away. She wasn’t used to hearing his praises, and yet whenever he did praise her, (y/n) hoped that her mind would never forget about these moments, cherishing every sound he made.

She felt his cock twitch in her mouth, staring up at the moaning man as her hands added more speed to their movements, pumping the parts her mouth couldn’t reach. If there was one thing she was set on, it was tasting his release, wanting him to leave his stain on her tongue before he fucked her, a wish the man wouldn’t fulfill today. He pulled away before he could give in, letting go of her hair, only to pull (y/n) to her feet. The professor manhandled her onto his table, front pushed against the cold wood as his hands pulled her trousers and panties down her legs.

“Such a messy whore for your professor, look at the way you’re dripping.” His dark chuckles left (y/n) impatiently moaning, hands clinging to the edge of the table, already preparing for the first of many ferocious thrusts. She heard him spit into his hand, once again lubing his cock up before he pushed into her from behind, drawing a moan from the both of them. 

He fucked her hard, fast, not caring about her need to adjust, or the pained whimpers leaving her. No, this was a lesson, a lesson crafted for her only, reminding the young woman that she was his, his only. No other man would ever manage to fuck her like this. No other man would ever manage to draw these sounds from her parted lips.

His toy, his pet, his woman. 

Curses left her whenever his cock managed to nudge the spot that left her seeing stars, squeezing her eyes shut to try and focus on the intimate moment, the need to feel his cock forcing her walls apart with every thrust, the ache he left behind between her legs. This wasn’t about taking their time, about cherishing one another’s closeness, this was solemnly to scratch that inch inside of them, fuelled by their possessiveness. 

“Please, oh please, professor.” A hum left the man, forcing one arm around her waist to rub her pulsing bundle, driving her closer and closer to the edge. “Please let me cum, oh god, please.” 

“Cum for me, pet. Let them hear who is fucking you, who is the only one allowed to touch you.” His name rolled off (y/n)’s tongue as she came, trying to prolong the moment for as long as possible. The professor kept snapping his hips, forcing his cock deeper and deeper, wanting to leave his stain on her walls, set on imprinting himself on her cunt. His dark, raspy moans left her gasping, feeling his hand tighten its grip on her flesh as he came inside of her, giving room to one last groan.

“You’re mine to touch, mine only, don’t you ever forget that, (y/n).”

[willowsnook]

Fake Love Triangle (LN & FC) 18+

lando norris x reader, franco colapinto x reader

for my friend @a-beaverhausen

"Come on, baby, give me one more," Lando cooed at you as he drilled into you from behind. Your face was smashed into the pillow, your body slumping as your third orgasm came over you. He chased his own

high, spilling into you before pulling out to lay next to you.

"I needed that," he sighed, pulling you into his side. You rested your head on his chest, agreeing.

"Me too. This stuff with Logan is stressing me out."

You were in your third year as a strategist with Williams, and this season had been rough—though so had last year and the year before that. You and Lando had been hooking up for the past season, using each other as a stress reliever, which worked for both of you. He wasn’t interested in a relationship, wanting to keep his focus on the championship. He was amazing in bed and a good friend, but you just weren’t interested in him romantically and never really had been. There was an understanding that your private activities didn’t mean anything, and either of you could end it whenever needed.

"I’ve heard you guys are replacing him," Lando mentioned, combing his fingers through your hair.

"Yeah, it’s being announced in the next couple of days. We’re bringing in a younger driver from our academy."

"Hmm, that'll be interesting."

You lifted your head to give him a look. He knew what this would mean for you and looked at you with sympathy. Looking over at your phone, you groaned at the time and moved off the bed, putting your clothes back on.

"I need to actually get a good night’s sleep before tomorrow, and your snoring prevents that, so I’ll see you around," you teased, grabbing your things. Lando pouted, but you paid him no mind.

"Good luck, and text me if you need me," he said playfully, and you shot him the finger before leaving his apartment.

----------------------------------------------------

Landing in the UK the next morning, you were exhausted, still not getting good sleep even without Lando's snores. There was an all-team meeting at 10, followed by a strategy session. You were a zombie during the meeting, barely paying attention as they announced Franco as the new driver.

Walking toward the conference room, the new driver fell into step next to you.

"Hola, hermosa," he said, smirking at you. "I'm Franco."

"I know who you are," you replied, laughing as you took in the Argentinian man.

"Just wanted to make sure. You didn’t seem like you were paying much attention back there," he teased, and you rolled your eyes.

"How would you even have noticed? There were so many people in there."

"I always notice the most beautiful woman in a room," he flirted, and your cheeks tinted pink.

"Are you really flirting with me right now?" you questioned.

"Only if you like it," he said with a wink, holding the door open for you.

This was going to be an interesting working relationship.

------------------------------------------

You quickly grew accustomed to Franco's flirting, which became part of your working routine, though you didn’t pay it much attention, considering he was like that with everyone.

Standing with his PR manager, who looked like she was about to pull her hair out, Franco strolled out of the interview room, his eyes lighting up as he saw you.

"Can you stop flirting with the reporters for five minutes, please?" she complained, and he shrugged innocently. She turned to you, "I don’t know how you put up with it."

"He does it with everyone, so I don’t think much of it," you said, and Franco frowned.

"Yeah, but it’s different with you, cariño," he said with a pout, and you gave him a quizzical look.

"How so?"

"Because I actually mean it with you," he said, and his PR manager pushed him away.

"No relationships with staff! Get away!" she shouted, and he winked at you before retreating to his driver’s room. You looked at her amused, contemplating his words. You had been finding yourself giddy around him and missed him quite a bit during the long break before Austin.

The two of you texted regularly, and you had grown to really like him, which Lando teased you relentlessly for.

Speaking of Lando, you were standing in the hotel lobby in Brazil when you felt two arms circling your waist.

"I need your mouth badly," he whispered in your ear, and you leaned back into him.

"I only have 10 minutes before I need to meet the team for dinner," you replied, and he pulled you toward the elevator.

"I can work with that," he replied, smiling as you rolled your eyes. "I have to take advantage of this before you finally give in to Franco."

"It’s not like that," you mumbled, waiting for the doors to open.

"Yeah, yeah. In the three years I've known you, I haven’t seen you smitten with someone like this before," he teased.

"So, what should I do? Go from master to his protégé?" you joked, and Lando giggled, pulling you into his room. His lips met yours in a soft kiss.

"I don’t think there’s anyone else I’d be happier about breaking us up than him," he confessed. "Now, knees, baby, please."

Grabbing a pillow from his bed, you knelt down, pulling out his already hard cock, the tip glistening angrily.

"What’s got you so worked up?" you asked sultrily, running the tip of your tongue around the head.

Lando took a sharp breath before replying, "I just need to settle my mind down before tomorrow."

Hollowing your cheeks, you took him entirely into your mouth, running your tongue around him lazily. His hand grabbed a fistful of your hair as he pushed you to take him all in. Whimpering as he hit the back of your throat, the vibrations caused him to gasp.

Looking up at him with watery eyes, he seemed to get even harder as he stared down at you.

"Fuck, you look so pretty like this," he rasped, and you pulled off, kissing down the side of him. Your hand took over for your mouth as you moved to kiss his balls, sucking gently.

"Let me take over, please," he begged, and you smirked before nodding. His cock found its way back into your mouth, and his grip tightened, starting to face-fuck you. Tears now leaked from your eyes as you gagged against him. His pace became sloppy, and it wasn’t long before you tasted him finishing in your mouth. You pulled off, swirling your tongue around the tip one last time, causing him to wince.

"Little minx," he muttered, and you smirked, getting up. You fixed your hair in the bathroom and bid Lando goodbye, wishing him luck for tomorrow.

Arriving at the team dinner, you slid into a booth next to Franco, who stiffened. You gave him a curious look, but he wouldn’t meet your gaze; that continued for the entire night. No flirty comments, nothing—just silence, and you were beyond confused.

Finally fed up with it once you both made it back to the hotel, you turned to him.

"Is something wrong?" you questioned, and he looked at you nervously, as if struggling with what to say.

"I just think we should keep our relationship strictly professional," he said firmly, and you were floored.

"You’re the one that flirts with me," you exclaimed, and he sighed, looking around as if for an escape. "What’s wrong with you?"

"Look, I really look up to Lando and respect him as a driver and a friend," he started, and you began to realize what was going on. "He’s a lucky guy."

"Franco—," you started, but he bolted, slipping into the elevator just as the doors closed. Unbelievable. Lando’s words had convinced you to give this a chance, but instead, he ended up being a cock-block.

-------------------------------------------

Lando was amused the next day during the drivers' parade, watching Franco fidget nervously beside him. Deciding to put the boy out of his misery, he turned to him.

"Can I talk to you about something?" Lando asked, and Franco’s eyes widened as he started to babble.

"I’m so sorry, mate, I didn’t know she was your girl, or I never would have talked to her like that. Just a silly crush, I promise—I’ve never touched her," he rambled, stopping when he noticed Lando giggling, clearly amused.

"She’s not my girlfriend," Lando told the poor rookie. "She’s one of my best friends, and yes, we occasionally 'help each other out,' but it’s nothing more than that."

"Oh," Franco said, relieved. He smiled at Lando nervously. "So, she doesn’t like you like that?"

Lando shook his head, grinning, "Nah, she’s into someone else. Someone new to the grid."

Franco blushed, understanding Lando's words, and smiled to himself.

That was the last time he smiled that morning, as he crashed into the barrier in the early laps of the GP.

With two drivers out, you took off your headphones, sighing as you moved back into the garage to wait for the car’s return. Franco made it back first, and your heart broke as his tear-filled eyes met yours and he hesitated nearby. After last night’s conversation, you weren’t sure what to do, but when his eyes stayed on yours, you took the risk and wrapped your arms around him.

He buried his head into your shoulder, and you rubbed his back as he cried gently. His red-rimmed eyes met yours as he stepped back, and you felt your own eyes watering.

"Can I see you later?" he asked softly, and you nodded, promising to text him your room number.

--------------------------------------------

You had just put on your pajamas after taking a long, hot shower when you heard a knock at your door. Franco stood on the other side, dressed in a casual T-shirt and sweats.

"Hey," you greeted him softly, opening the door wider for him to come in. He stepped in and grabbed you, but instead of a hug, you felt his lips on yours as he softly gripped your jaw, holding you in place.

It was a lazy kiss but exploratory, as though he were trying to learn every part of your mouth. Breathing hard, you rested your forehead against his as he smiled gently at you.

"Can you stop fucking Lando now?" he asked, and you giggled, pulling him into another kiss.

Moving to the bed, you slid under the covers, pulling them back for Franco to join you. He pulled off his shirt first, and you shamelessly checked him out, much to his amusement.

"Like what you see, hermosa?" he teased, and you met his gaze, smirking.

"As long as it’s only for me," you said, letting a little bit of vulnerability show. He smiled at you, climbing into bed.

"Only for you."

Snuggled into Franco’s side, you watched TV together.

"Feeling better after today?" you asked softly.

"Yeah," he murmured, "Just a little scary. Not as scary as Lando asking to talk to me though."

"How'd you even know about me and him?" You asked curiously, no one knew how far your friendship went.

"I saw you last night before dinner," he admitted. "My heart shattered into a million pieces."

"You are so dramatic," you laughed. Your hand was resting on his abs, gently tracing the skin there as you talked.

"We're going to have an issue if you keep doing that, mi amor," Franco said breathlessly, and you smirked, trailing your fingers closer to his waistband.

"Y/n," he breathed out as your hand dipped underneath his pants. You palmed him over his boxers and he whimpered before pulling you on his lap. Meeting his lips in a deep kiss you ground into him, both groaning out into each other. He threw his head back against the pillow and you took the opportunity to latch your mouth to his neck, sucking harshly.

Franco pushed his boxers down and you shimmied out of your shorts before sliding back and forth on his length. Moving his hands to your hips he stopped you and lifted you up a little, allowing you to sink back down on him.

You gasped as he stretched you out, throwing your head back. Franco was in heaven staring up at you and was doing everything in his power to not make this end early. You had started to move but his fingers dug into your hips.

"Just give me a second, okay?" He rasped and you smirked down at him before fighting his grip to grind onto him. You shrieked as he flipped you over, never leaving the inside of you.

"Think you're funny, huh," he said as he moved more quickly. Groaning out, you wrapped your legs around his waist as he rammed into you over and over.

His head dropped to your shoulder, and he bit into your skin, causing you to cry out and dig your nails harder into his back. One of his hands came up to your breast and his thumb rolled over your nipple and you felt yourself starting to get overstimulated, a tell tale sign that you were close.

"Don't stop Franco," you gasped out, and he brought his lips back to yours, swallowing your cries as your orgasm took over. He followed soon after, collapsing next to you as you both came down from your highs.

Finally catching your breath you felt his arms scoop you up, carrying you into the bathroom.

"What are you doing?" You asked dazed and he smiled down at you.

"Have to take care of my girl," he said and you sighed against him.

It was later when you were snuggled up against Franco, watching a movie when your phone went off. You rolled your eyes smiling as you saw the text.

LN: so no more head??? ;)

[wrightingdungeon]

SDV Bachelor domestic headcanons

MDNI

Just some headcanons, not anything nsfw but they are adults, and I hit the zaaaaa so these will be dumb, like dumb dumb

Alex:

He has full-on elbowed you when he woke up a few times. Forgive him he's not used to sleeping with someone and he likes to stretch when he wakes up. 

If you have a dog he’s definitely buying one of those running leashes, the one that goes around the hips. Who will tire who out first?

Usually the dog gives out first, and he carries them back home cooing at them like they are a baby… they are

Modifies your home with Robin's help so George and Evelyn can visit

Evelyn, how did you feed this boi? He’s burning through calories 

Especially after helping pick up the farm work…. Sweaty Alex… Cowboy lookin fine ass… Horny jail….

Elliott:

Journals EVERYWHERE, all of them have different ideas, title workings, and little ideas that just popped into his head.

Sits on the front porch head in hand watching you pick fruit, mumbling something like

From tiny seeds to branches high. With gentle hands, they pluck the prize.

Loves to shower with you, he just holds you helps wash your hair, and scrubs your back. Tell you how pretty/handsome you are.

Bought you both matching bathrobes

Tell me he doesn't sleep with a bonnet, look at that silky hair. 

Matching silk pillowcase as well

I imagine this man is a mover in his sleep, and wakes up lookin like the Peter Griffin dead pose meme

Harvey:

The first night yall are married he cant sleep, he's just watching you. Playing with your hair giggling like he was high, he was high of how happy he was.

Has just as many self-care products if not more then Elliott, his mustache looks sculpted, you don't get that look without gel and a little mustache comb

He has a little pocket mustache comb you bought him as a joke but he loves it

Wears an apron when he cooks. Wait where did his go? Why is there a maid one in its place.... Horny Jail....

Charges you for passing out or almost dying to fund his therapy visits, you caused this farmer, look at the gray hairs.

Silver fox Harvey that's all I'm saying

Sebastian:

Good luck getting out of bed, hes like a fuckin backpack

Wakes up eyes not even open just pawing around for whatever hes trying to find.

Eyes are all bloodshot cus he was up all night working, sitting on the porch with his coffee, smoking, petting your pet

Doesn't fully wake up till about high noon

Helps out on the farm, but still does his own thing.

Stays out late with Sam and Abigail practicing for their upcoming gig, you both usually see each other returning home around one am

Momma Boi still goes to Robins for dinner every now and again

Sam:

Puppy at your heels, you go one way hes there. Forgot something? Turn around and trip over his feet

Loves living on the farm with you because now he can crank the tunes all the way up, and you can hear his speakers while you're in the field

Falls asleep anywhere, the porch, the couch, lying down in the grass with the dog/cat

If you cooked it hes eating it, he does the same for his mom

When Kent is back he babysits Vincent some nights

Speaking of, when he Vincent and Jas all get together good luck on the unsuspecting person about to get pranked.

Shane

Its law you adopt Jas, i said it, it cant be broken

Taking Jas to school, returning and helping you with the farm

He and Jas chant “Pizza,Pizza,Pizza” over and over when you ask what is for dinner

Warm, squishy, cuddly, bear hugs in the morning. Hes another backpack boi

When he's awake though, unless you are at home, light PDA

Works with Haley to learn his video camera more, its another hobby to keep him busy

First time seeing you wearing one of his shirts, the shirt is no longer on you… Horny Jail…

[fatuismooches]

a lesson in forgiveness.

The puppet’s plan to save you by deleting himself from the world did not work. You were dead and would remain dead for all of eternity. You were never to be given a second chance, yet he received one, now going by the name Wanderer.

Wanderer had begun to heal, very, very slowly from not only your death but his own past life with the help of the Dendro Archon, but there was not a day where Wanderer didn’t think of you. Sometimes for a little while, sometimes for a long time. Though Wanderer had always kept your gift close to him. The comb you had given him had endured throughout time, not without challenges though. You had given it to him as a good luck charm before he set off on that fateful day. Some of the teeth had been chipped or even broken off. Wanderer always treated it with the utmost care, but time is everything’s greatest enemy, even to immortals.

More recently, Wanderer had decided to create a small doll of you. It was necessary for him, it was a way to cope and come to terms with your death. He remembers centuries ago, you said you had always wanted to see the world. To leave the little village you called home and see Teyvat for yourself. It’s not the same, but perhaps this could be some sort of atonement for letting you die. You’ll be able to see the beautiful sights that he sees with him. Maybe that would make you happy, wherever you were. He would not tell anyone how much time he put into it, for it was an embarrassingly long time. Every stitch and every detail was planned carefully, even making multiple pairs of clothing for you. He didn’t often use them though, but perhaps it was a way to keep his mind off other things. 

Nowadays, Lesser Lord Kusanali had begun to assign him to some bothersome tasks, which he reluctantly carried out. Though, it was mostly a front. He didn’t mind as much as he grunted and scoffed about it. And, Wanderer knows without a doubt that you would adore Nahida. So, he really didn’t mind being the Archons’s shadow. Ah, and the Aranara too, you would absolutely fawn over them. If he was Kabukimono, he would too.

But right now he was taking a break at his usual local cafe. This had become a sort of routine for Wanderer. It was nothing out of the ordinary now. Plus, the coffee here was not bad. The puppet was enjoying his solitude, away from the noise of others when a voice broke his tranquility.

“Hello, is this seat taken?” Wanderer's eyebrow twitched at the disturbance. Couldn’t this person read the room? He thought it would be quite obvious that he preferred to be left alone. He cracked an eyebrow open to retort the person but the sight of them made every part of his body freeze up, and the words died in his throat. This couldn’t be true. It just couldn’t. If he were holding his cup of coffee, he would have dropped it.

For you were standing in front of him again. 

There were not many times Wanderer has been left speechless, for he always has some kind of response to everything, but not this time. What could he say, when confronted with the love of his life after over four hundred years of their death?

“Hello?” You tilted your head, beckoning for a reply. A nervous but genuine smile eased its way onto your lips. “Would you mind if I sat here with you?” Wanderer forced himself to regain his composure.

“…Do what you want.” That came out harsher than the puppet wanted it to, but his stern way of speaking had long been the norm for him. 

“Okay, thanks,” you smiled once again, tension in your shoulders leaving as you pulled out the chair. That smile of yours. That smile was all too familiar. Every part of his body was debating the possibility of this being you. Oh, how he longed for it to be you, but he couldn’t be sure that this was you. It must be just an uncanny resemblance to the you from centuries ago. Because you, [Name], were dead, and you were never coming back.

You began to search through your bag, looking for something. He got a peak of the contents, and there lay some Lavender Melon wrapped up to savor later for a snack. He gritted his teeth at the similarities before deciding to study you more. Your clothes had traditional aspects of Inazuma but also incorporated some styles from Sumeru. Perhaps you were on a trip? His question wasn’t left unanswered for long.

“You know, this is my first day in Sumeru. It’s so much bigger and livelier than I thought,” you hummed happily. “So I thought, the first thing I should do was try some of the local food! I heard it’s quite delicious,” you grinned again finding the Mora pouch in your bag. Then a look of realization appeared on your face. “Oh! How silly of me, rambling to a complete stranger. I’m [Name], by the way.” 

[Name].

[Name].

[Name].

[Name]. The name that had haunted and lingered with him for so long, had come back to the present day. Wanderer’s breath hitched as he could not help but feel a wave of emotions at the reality of the situation. You were back. You were alive again, happy and smiling, looking as if nothing had changed at all. Granted, there were still a few small differences from your past self, but it was wholly and authentically you. [Name]. There was no denying it, and he found himself boring his eyes into your figure. You were still so pretty, so attractive, your beauty not changing throughout time. The way you furrowed your eyebrows as you read through the menu, licking your lips in anticipation of digging into some yummy cuisine.

Wanderer wonders if you still like to cook, the same way the old you loved to. He wonders if you’ll recognize the techniques the old you taught him, how to cut and peel vegetables. Wanderer does it with ease now, no longer cutting his fingers clumsily as Kabukimono did. He wonders if you’d like his own cooking. Much of his knowledge of cooking came from you. He wants to see your face light up in excitement as you relish and praise him for how good he’s gotten without you. If he cooked you the same foods you ate together from those days, how would you react? If he showed you the comb, would you remember? If you remembered, would you forgive him for how he let you die all those years ago? Wanderer’s mind was overloaded with questions. 

He had gone through unspeakable things, but he was extremely strong now, at least stronger than Kabukimono. Wanderer thinks you’ll never be hurt ever again, not by any Treasure Hoarders, Fatui, Kairagi, Nobushi, Hilichurls, or whatever other monsters Teyvat has to offer. No, so long as he watched over you from afar, you would never be injured. But, he questions himself, does he truly deserve this opportunity? No, the better question was, do you deserve to have to deal with him, with him being the person he is now? You looked perfectly fine without him, oblivious to the way he had been suffering for so long after your death. Oblivious to the sins that coated his hands. At the very least, you didn’t meet him while he was Scaramouche. He probably would not have been a good lover to you back then. Your voice interrupted his thoughts. 

“This is my first time trying Sumeru’s coffee. Is it good?” His chest panged once again at how similar your words were spoken now as compared to a few hundred years ago. Wanderer remembers the exact moment, in the bath when you spoke about trying Sumeru’s coffee with him, as if it was yesterday…

“It’s alright,” Wanderer kept his tone neutral despite his thoughts.

“Oh really? Is it bitter or sweet?”

“Neither, it is a good balance. But… I always ask for mine to be extra bitter,” Wanderer admitted to you. Normally, he would never have even entertained a conversation with a stranger, but in a way, you were not a stranger to him.

“Extra bitter, huh? And that doesn’t bother you? Interesting,” you smiled, gaining interest in the conversation as you leaned in closer to him. “I don’t think I could ever handle that!” Wanderer knew that already. In Tatarasuna, you could never stomach the taste of such bitterness. Another look of realization crossed your face as you giggled to yourself.

“It just hit me, I introduced myself but I never asked you. What’s your name?” You smiled once again beautifully, Sumeru’s sun illuminating your features. Wanderer etched your expression forever into his mind before he spoke.

“Just call me… Hat Guy,” Wanderer did not know why he chose to say that name out of all, and he had to stop himself from cringing at himself.

“H-Hat Guy…?” You repeated. You were dead silent for a few seconds before you erupted in laughter, which sounded oh-so-familiar to him, and made his ‘heart’ sing. Your hand flew to your mouth in an attempt to muffle your giggles. “Ah- ahahaha! I didn’t take you for a guy who likes to joke!”

Wanderer didn’t know how things would go from here, but as the wind carried your laugh away, he felt truly at peace after a very, very long time.

lesson 1. lesson 2. lesson 3. lesson 4. lesson 5. lesson 6. lesson 7. lesson 8. lesson 9. lesson 10. bonus lesson.

[xxsunoosprincess]

Enhypen and the small things they do

Just a collection of random things i could see enha doing that would make your heart flutter a.k.a how they would show you love

pairing: enhypen x reader (all members! I usually don’t write for ni-ki but I got this idea because of him :3)

warnings: none! completely fluff. gender neutral! reader

Heeseung: Holds your hand all the time. Like all the time. Subconsciously reaches for your hand when you are walking in a crowd together. Falls asleep holding your hand. Works up a MEAN blush when you point this out.

Jay: Shares food with you. If you are out to eat together you guys always order two dishes and eating half of both. If you are at home watching a movie he is alternating between takes bites of snacks and feeding you.

Jake: Always makes time to do your hobby with you. Let’s you paint his nails. Plays your favorite game with you and let’s you win. Will do on walks with you. It doesn’t matter he will always make time to do things you enjoy. Even if he’s really lost, it makes him happy to see you happy.

Sunghoon: bickers with you. NOW STAY WITH ME HERE. I think he has a little charmer personality he uses with fans and the public but once he starts teasing you, or whines to you about how you definitively cheated to beat him in a game, that’s how you know he is locked in. #forliferzzz

Sunoo: Does your hair for you. Sometimes it’s as simple as combing through your hair while you watch tv together, applying treatments with gentle hands. Sometimes it’s watching YouTube tutorials so he can learn how to do certain styles on you. Sees how stressful wash day can be and wants to ease the burden. Sweet baby!!

Jungwon: Brings you trinkets. Everytime he leaves the house he comes home with something for you. Little figurines that reminded him of you. A t-shirt he thought was funny and wants you to put on. A pastry he grabbed an extra of when he was hungry. Always so excited to show you, too :(.

Riki: Texts you updates throughout the day! Jake shared that text exchange of Ni-ki sending him a selfie and wishing him good luck and that made me smile. Does the same for you. Lots of “still practicing this new choreo 😮‍💨”’s and “miss you :p”‘s paired with a casual selfie.

END.

a/n: Just wanted to write a bit of fluff. Whipped this out in like 20 minutes as a warm up :p also my first time writing riki content!! Usually I’m writing smut so he’s not there, and am still getting comfortable doing fluff for him… but the Weverse exchange with him and Jake is what inspired this so I figured I’d give him a shot! - xx princess