#holds ur mind so gently…

[wave2love]

OKOK I HV STH! producer!reader and idol! … idol ☠️ writing this while listening to nights - frank ocean i might call it that 😆

ALR SO. it starts when idols still in his trainee days and its not going well. a few of his friends j debuted without him and hes feeling p awful so he slips out for a walk in the city an yk. finds someone to sit and be alone for a few hours . but then after a while someone asks if he can sit w him and idol agrees and he doesnt know it yet but its YN!!!! they share life stories (idol tells him ab the failed trainee stuff and yn says hes an apprentice music engineer still trying to find his place) and talk for HOURS and hours and hours. its all nice and yn comforts him a lot / helps him feel better ab not debuting . its leaves a big impression on him when he goes back and it stays w him for a very long time even if they (think) they’re never gonna see eo again. 👍👍

FASTFORWARD LIKE 3 OR 4 YEARS.. idol is a super megastar successful soloist!!! always dubbed the one of the strongest figures in the industry!!!! and the one thing that never changes is that w every comeback he always makes sure to mention somwhere that the release (whether its an album or ep of single or whatever) is dedicated to the stranger that helped him to keep going and not quit, even if they only met once. yn is doing well too!!! one of the producers with the most credits listed to his name 🙏

then . Then . idol is planning his comeback and his team r like……. we hv someone new to work w you this time!!! we think you’ll rly like him!!!! so hes like ok and when he goes to meet him in the recording room ITS NONE OTHER THAN YN!!!!

they dont recognise eo at first but theu get rly close while working on the album and then blaj blah blah falling in love its cute its fun and then they both talk ab the one stranger they talked w one night that made them want to work harder and keep going and they finally realise its eo . its cute blah blah blah (2) THE END!!!

a mess truly 😞 i dont know which idol to wrie this 4 so ermm if u can think of someone pls share!!!! but also i rly want to make it for someone in nct 😭😭 i was kinda thinking hyuck again LMAOO but i will hear u out bsf!!! ur opinion >

this is so.. AHHHHHH i love it so much whay the fuckity fucking fuck!! this is acc so cute ilysm like ure so big brain

so for like idol mayb huening >_^ or beomgyu. pls i am very uncreative today 👊 if i think of another idol i’ll lyk bsf!!

i live for ur fic ideas

[sukugo]

So as a fellow sukugo shrine sweeper, I feel like I have to share this with you first:

That's it. It was over. They all watched as Gojo fell to the rubble beneath his feet. Shallow, raspy breaths and the gurgling of blood would only be poetic in a moment such as this.

"You fought well, my sorcerer." Sukuna's words weren't a verbal sneer. He stated it as fact, therefore it was so. He walked to the highest pile of former buildings and sat down. "I will give you a choice, Satoru Gojo. You die here and now, or you can crawl to me. After all, it would be a shame to lose you. You've taught me something that no one else could."

Everything was shaking. It was too much but nothing at all. Gojo could only cling to the voice in front of him, to the eyes of the god before him. Crawl, Sukuna had said. What did he have to lose? The world was fucked either way, and he had caused so much destruction.

The refuge in his audacity had run out.

The refuge ahead was still here. Just a few steps away.

Stumbling was something he didn't think was possible when crawling. He never had to worry about it before.

A clawed hand raked through his blood crusted hair. If he wasn't using the king of curses as a bedrock for his sanity, he might have been startled.

"There we are, Satoru. I'm glad you made the right decision. Come here, and I will tell you what you taught me." He pulled Gojo between his legs and the sorcerer laid his head on the other's leg. He felt Sukuna healing his wounds right under his fingertips, and gasped as it overflowed into his bones.

Not quite healing, but more a brand. A mark of victory, pouring into his cracked cup of a body. He felt Sukuna filling every empty space, not just his mind, but his physical form as well.

He didn't know when his eyes had closed, but Malevolent Shrine was kinda hard to miss.

"Why so quiet all of a sudden?"

"It's not empty anymore. It's quiet." Was it always this dark?

"Your six eyes caused that void. I removed the problem. Made you whole. You were born rare, but also broken. Empty. I suspected that was what was wrong with you, but... you don't have to worry about that now."

"Explains why everything is so fucking dark."

A barking laugh came from above him.

"A small price for me filling your void."

"Careful now, I'm already on my knees." Gojo wise cracked. "But what did I teach you?"

"Love." That's... not what he was expecting. " You and I are very similar. That is the reason why our fight was as fulfilling as it was destructive. We fill and heal the void that makes us restless... but only you can give that to me. Just as I will be the only one for you."

The curse lifted him up onto his lap, and Gojo gently examined his remains of his eyes. Gone.

"When they regenerate, they will be no different than normal eyes, little sorcerer."

"When??"

"I would prefer if my love could see me." Gojo parted his lips to speak, but an insistent press of lips took the words from him.

When they parted, Gojo could only formulate one solid question:

"What would I see, Sukuna?"

The god holding him, his grin unseen, leaned back into his throne.

"That I alone...

...am the exalted one."

Sorry if this is really long or seem ooc, I was vibing to Neoni and things happened. I hope you enjoy though!!

AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHFHJASHDKJASHJDSHGKLFHGLKSDHFKLDHGLKHGSDKLHFASKLJFKLHSKDFJAKLJASKLDJGLSHDLFJAJFASKFA

sorry i just. i need a fucking moment. IAUGHKDGAJFHKJLJASDLAJFKADKASÑ IM SCREAMING

THANK U SO SOSOSOOSOS MUCH FOR SHARING THIS IT'S SO GOOD AND IM NOT OKAY FUCK

[spaceratprodigy]

messy sketch but. them. :)

@hibernationsuit — 💕💖💕💖🥺💖💕💖💕

HELLOOO??? I AM SQUEALING!! LOOK AT THEM!!!! I am on the floor sobbing rn hello my friend I love you with my whole heart!!!!!!!!

[nihilara]

@scrtilegii asked: ' everyone searches for something in a beautiful dream. peace, fulfillment, elation... a way of being that is devoid of pain. I could sing for you, if you like. I could take away your burdens. ' ( Robin! )

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐄𝐍𝐀𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐘 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐀… 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐄. it was loud, colorful, with too many things to waste his time on. but, he had nowhere else to go. march would no doubt tend to his cats for now, until he could return. if he could return. the events that surrounded the luo/fu... and that followed, shone a spotlight on him that he'd been avoiding for decades. what an unfortunate turn of events, a narrow escape, nearly stuck in the shackling prison for the rest of his days. or... despite his loss of status kuro still had immortal flesh. so it would be for the rest of time-- till the xian/zhou alliance was no more. an impossibility...

the thought terrified him. more than pain, more than deathlessness-- the idea of spending forever in a box, in chains. ( you do deserve it though ) his mind helpfully supplies him with as much self doubt, and uncertainty as it ever has. an emanator of yao/shi once... his crimes, as they told him then, were countless.

dreams are tangible in this place, vivid enough to touch. 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐬 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞? could he choose them? or would he lose control of it, as he has with everything else in his life. pieces slipping through his fingers, desperately doing what he can to catch them. would they be as they've been in the past? memories rather, of abundance, of his faith before it fell. of yao/shi, in all their splendor, poised amidst the cosmic expanse of space...

she's too kind, he thinks.

kuro has not been here long, but he has seen her face-- robin is akin to a bird in a gilded cage. his understanding of the situation is, minimal, nonexistent. so he will not ask her about it, or press. the songbird is after all, offering him peace, and despite all his growth-- he is a selfish man.

" and what... would you want in return? " he asks, wary. she is closely tied to another face he has seen... briefly. and the two hold an importance that he fears, that may pull him into further depths he cannot run from. it takes only a moment for him to realize, that his question may come off as rude. " i'm sorry... yes. i would like that.. i just cannot help myself. i'm tired. " tension bleeds away into exhaustion. there are things much worse than death. he knows. but right now he will allow himself to be at her mercy. to let himself drift away from everything that weighs him down.

𝐮𝐧𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐝

[sacharinee]

pairing: bf!peter x reader

synopsis: peter likes having you close to him. all the time

wc: 630 ish

a/n: surprise! another one oops. im rlly bored can u tell? cuddling prompt with peter. reader is a cheeky and annoying lil shit. one office reference. i saw a tiktok about this a long time ago and thought this would be a cute idea to write about. also does anyone know how cuddling works tho?? if ur laying on ur side, do u just lay on top of the arm ur crushing on? under a pillow? idk lol. anyways i hope u like :D

there's an ache settling in your right side that wakes you up from your sweet slumber. your head lays atop peter’s soft chest, his steady heartbeat against your ears. it was what lulled you to sleep in the first place. but with peter’s body practically being your own personal heater, the warm air filling the room, and the prominent soreness resting on your side, you began to feel uncomfortable.

“pete,” you whisper.

peter is entirely unfazed. his hold on you is strong. his face is towards you, mouth slightly ajar, letting out the softest of snores and drool out the corner of his mouth. although you love your cuddles with peter, you think he could actually suffocate you in your sleep. the boy loved to sleep, especially on top of you.

your limbs are tangled together. your left leg slung around his waist, arms around his torso, while his buff arms embrace your shoulders protectively.

ever so slightly, you begin to move your leg, retreating it back to your side as you push against his body and establish a more comfortable position. you snuggle further into peter as sleep wins you over once again.

it only lasts for a second when you wake from your boyfriend’s murmurs, he seems to talk in his sleep when he whispers your name. he huffs loudly and smacks his lips a couple of times with his brows furrowed. you feel his warm hand reach for the back of your knee to bring it over his crotch.

a confused look paints your face as you gaze up toward him. he’s asleep as dead. did he really just do that? you almost laugh out loud. his quirky behavior never fails to amuse you and has your stomach going in flips. he just wants you close to him. :(

but you think you’re funny, so you test out that theory one more time, this time blatantly stripping your leg away from him.

this gets a reaction out of peter. he seems to wake when he gusts an impatient breath, “no” and grabs your knee again, forcefully holding it against him.

in disbelief, you’re unable to contain your burst of laughter as you hold yourself up with one arm and stare at him wide-eyed, “what is wrong with you?”

“ph’shhh” peter knits his brows together, his eyes shut tight with a cute pout, as he blindly brings a hand to your face and gently shoves your head back against your pillow.

“peter-” “shut up.” he feels you lick the palm of his hand, “yuck,” but he doesn’t care to move it away from you. it’s only when you swat his hand away and settle back down against him to give him peace of mind. only for a moment, though. you have fun annoying peter, almost like a hobby. he’s halfway asleep when he feels you aggressively snatch your leg away from his hold.

“y/n!” peter groans, “stop it.” this time, your boyfriend pushes you on top of him, your entire body weight lays over his while he keeps a tight grasp on you, making sure to keep your leg over his waist and your head upon his chest.

his irritation riles you up, and you’re giggling through it all.

peter’s not having it though, not at all. he heaves another deep breath through his mouth, with the same grumpy look on his face, “why are you the way you are?”

you gasp, “me?!” “yes, you.”

not done yet, you flick his forehead, “you know, you’re so annoying sometimes, pete.”

he scoffs, “oh yea?”

“yea. a total pain in the-”

peter shoves his hand against your face and into his chest one last time, “ass.”

you decided you’ve had your fun but you’re too delighted to go back to sleep. too delighted to know that the boy you love and cherish always wants to be impossibly close to you all the time, conscious or not.

[plutolovesyou]

Bro I literally eat up ur writing every time😭can u do ellie using a vibe on u?

before you read.

☆: KILLING 3 BIRDS W ONE STONE HEHE. i feel these all go well, so why not. sorry for the insane wait, and the wildly lazy writing...me putting this off forever only to bang out a crappy blurb in like 2 mins...also can't stick to a single aesthetic WHATEVA.

◇: vibrator use, fingering, porn w/out plot (sawry), dom-ish ellie (but she's still kinda silly), overstimulation, squirting, aftercare at the end (all r! recieving).

"you can take it, doin' so good." she murmurs under her breath, her face contorted in concentration.

you squeal when ellie presses the vibrator hard against your poor, overworked clit, the sensations almost too much to bear. but no matter how overwhelming it may be, it's still so mind numbingly good. the device has been set on a mode midway for the past...however long, and you've completely lost count of how many times she's made you cum thus far. for all you knew, it could have been well into the double digits, and she didn't seem to be stopping any time soon.

ellie’s eyes were dark, low with blown out pupils. they remain trained on you, flickering between observing your facial expressions, your squirming body, covered in a shiny layer of sweat, and what's going on under her hands. "...ellie, hold on...wait." you gasp out, struggling to catch your breath.

she detaches the device from you, her tattooed hand traveling up your body, settling on the side of your face to cup your cheek, and wipe away a stray tear that had escaped from your eye. "need a break, babe?" she says, her gaze softening. that honey voice she puts on, featuring a light domineering timbre, it immediately makes you wet all over again and you whimper quietly, bucking your hips up in pursuit of more stimulation. she notices—of course she does, observant as a fox—and her lips stretch into a sneer, "yeah that's what i thought, still need more." she chuckles, before thrusting the tip of the toy back onto your swollen clit, biting her lip when she watches you arch backward, mantras of her name and pleas falling from your lips.

her free hand, which was previously resting on your knee, flies down the inside of your parted thighs, grazing the heated skin, and she teases your hole with two digits, eagerly observing the reactions. she quickly stuffs her middle two fingers inside with ease, slick and pearly cum leaking down her slender knuckles. curling upwards to massage your g-spot, the pleasure is causing explosions of colors to appear in your vision, your eyes are filling with tears once again.

"just gimme one more, okay?" ellie orders gently, clicking buttons to increase the intensity of the vibrator even more, and you nearly shriek. out of instinct your legs fight to close around her hands, but she's quick to push your knee to the side again, tutting. "nuh-uh, don't do that. just one more. say the safeword if you really want me to stop, alright?" you open one eye and nod meekly at her, and she resumes. within no time at all you feel the brink of orgasm swell in your lower abdomen once more, your legs trembling at every purr of the toy. and she can tell as well by the way you're whining and panting, all with a fucked out, lazy smile playing on your face.

silent moans trapped in your throat, you feel the blinding ecstasy overtake your body, blacking out your senses for a moment. she has lessened the setting to work you through it effectively, all while muttering sweet praises throughout.

"god, look at that." she whispers in awe once it's over, discarding the device on the floor and rubbing her hands across your legs to ease the tension in your thighs, making sure you're okay. she hovers over you to press a tender kiss to your forehead, then over your entire face, grinning when she hears you laugh.

her goofy tone returns, "fuckin' squirted all over me, baby. we'll clean up just gimme a sec." she cuddles up to you, nuzzling her face in the crook of your neck, sighing and softly stroking the top of your head. "next time we'll do a couple more, make a new personal best, whaddaya think?"

tags (idk why some didn’t work): @andersonfilms @ch6douin @aouiaa @sapphic-ovaries @astro-cat2 @paqerings @r3starttt @littlefallenangel111 @srooch @sinfulprayerss @lvlymicha @sunnsh1ine @anniee333 @flowrmoth @liddysflyer @fortune777 @claude999 @brunaedn @lanabaezzzz

[rafecameronssl4t]

Hiiii i hace a canon fic idea! What if kook! reader runs into Pope after Rafe and Topper hit hol eith their golf sticks in that one ep from s1. Like reader is Rafes gf and scolds him and Top a bit🤭🤭 Also loooovvveee ur ficssss🫶🏼

Territorial bullshit || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

A/n: I LOOOVED WRIITNG THIS THANK U FOR THE REQUEST!!

Warnings: mention of violence, swearing, s1 raf is a whole warning itself 😭

Word count: 1,297

MASTERLIST

divider by @h-aewo

“Hey Pope—holy shit!” Your jaw drops as you lift your sunglasses from the bridge of your nose, sitting up abruptly from the sun lounge. “What the fuck happened to your face?” you exclaim, furrowing your brows as you quickly get up and walk over to him. Pope turns his head away, clearly trying to avoid your gaze.

“Nothing happened,” he huffs, refusing to make eye contact. You gently hold his jaw, turning his face towards you to get a better look at the bruises and cuts marring his skin. “Nothing happened? What a load of bullshit,” you scoff, your concern deepening.

Pope’s hands come up to push yours away, but you slap them down, your eyes scanning the injuries with growing worry. “Who did this to you?” you ask softly this time, your voice laced with genuine concern.

Pope hesitates, looking at you with a mix of confusion and gratitude. He never really understood why you, a Kook, were always so kind to him. “It doesn’t matter,” he trails off, sighing deeply, clearly wishing to avoid further questions and drop off the deliveries.

“It does matter, Pope,” you reassure him, not wanting him to feel like his pain was insignificant. After a moment, he finally mutters, “Rafe.” Your eyes widen slightly. “Rafe? He did this to you?” you repeat, swallowing hard as Pope nods. “Why would he do this to you—I-I don’t understand.” Your hands drop from his face as an unsettling feeling spreads through you.

Pope hesitates before speaking, “I was on the Figure Eight side of the island.” Your brows knit together in confusion. “Rafe attacked you because you were on our side of the island?” Pope nods, looking away. “Yeah, he said I had no business being there.”

You scoff, shaking your head in disbelief. “What a fucking dick!” You turn to grab your phone, determined to talk to Rafe.

“Wait—Y/n, please don’t make it worse,” Pope pleads, grabbing hold of your forearm. You pause, looking at him and then at his grip on your arm. He releases you, his eyes filled with worry. “You have nothing to worry about,” you assure him, before grabbing your phone and heading inside, your mind set on confronting Rafe.

~

Storming into the gym room, you stride with purpose, your footsteps echoing sharply against the polished floor. Rafe, mid-rep, catches sight of you and pauses, confusion etched across his face.

Without a word, you march straight to the sound system and shut off the blaring music, plunging the room into an abrupt silence. Kelce and Topper, caught off guard, exchange bewildered glances.

“What’s going on?” Rafe asks, his voice uncertain, running a hand through his sweaty hair. “You know exactly what’s going on,” you reply coldly. “Why the hell did you attack Pope?”

Rafe’s confusion shifts to defensiveness. “Pope? What are you talking about?” “Don’t play dumb, Rafe,” you snap, stepping closer. “He told me you jumped him because he was on the Figure Eight side of the island.”

Rafe’s jaw tightens, and he glances at Kelce and Topper, who are now watching with attention. “He had no business being on our side of the island, Y/n. He had it coming.” Topper steps forward, ready to defend Rafe. “Hey, it wasn’t just about that—”

“Shut the fuck up, Topper!” you cut him off sharply, your voice echoing in the silent gym. “I’m not talking to you,” you glare at him. Topper raises his hands defensively and steps back, clearly taken aback by your intensity. Rafe’s defensiveness returns. “He needed to learn a lesson,” he mutters.

“And what lesson is that? That you’re a bully?” you retort, your voice rising with each word. “You can’t just go around beating people up because you’re angry.”

Rafe lets out a loud scoff, shaking his head in disbelief. His eyes narrow as an evil smirk spreads across his lips. “I get it,” he chuckles, a manic edge to his voice that makes you raise an eyebrow in wary confusion.

“You’re so worked up because you have a little crush on that Pogue,” Rafe says, his tone dripping with condescension. The accusation is so absurd it makes you scoff out loud. “Are you being serious right now—” you begin, but Rafe cuts you off sharply.

“What, you fuckin’ him? Is that why you’re so worked up? Huh?” He steps closer, his eyes gleaming with a malicious challenge, his presence looming over you. Each word is a taunt, a provocation, and you feel the weight of his accusation settle heavily in the air.

You stay silent, more out of shock than anything else. The sheer audacity of Rafe’s insinuation leaves you momentarily speechless. The idea that he would even think this, let alone say it, is bewildering.

The gym falls into an awkward silence, Kelce and Topper watching uncomfortably from the sidelines. Rafe breaks the silence with a laugh, a cruel, mocking sound. “Yeah, all quiet now, aren’t you? Fuckin’ slut—”

His words are cut off by the hard impact of your hand making contact with his cheek, the force of the slap whipping his head to the side. Kelce and Topper let out a quiet "ooh," their eyes wide with shock.

The room is frozen in a tense stillness, everyone processing what just happened. Rafe slowly turns back to you, his cheek reddening from the slap, shock and anger flickering in his eyes.

“You don’t ever speak to me like that again,” you say, your voice steady and unwavering, your hand still stinging from the impact. The weight of your words hangs heavy in the air, a clear line drawn.

“You think you can just—” Rafe starts, but you cut him off, your voice cold and firm. “This isn’t about me or Pope or some stupid territorial bullshit. This is about you and the kind of person you’re choosing to be. And right now, you’re being a fucking asshole.”

"Like I fucking said, he had it coming," Rafe urged, his breathing heavy and eyes blazing as he stared back at you, meeting your look of disgust with a defiant glare. "You're pathetic, Rafe," you say calmly, your voice cutting through the tension like a knife.

His eyes widen in disbelief, and he takes a step closer, trying to intimidate you. "What the fuck did you just say?" You stand your ground, unwavering. "You heard what I said," you reply with a shrug, completely unbothered.

Rafe's gaze darts to Kelce and Topper, seeking their validation. "Right, 'cause I don’t think my own girlfriend just called me pathetic, right guys?" Kelce and Topper exchange uneasy glances, their silence speaking volumes. You roll your eyes at Rafe's need to involve everyone else in your business, his constant seeking of validation.

"That's really fucking rich of you to say, Rafe, because if I remember correctly, you just called me a slut a few minutes ago," you deadpan, your voice dripping with annoyance. Rafe opens his mouth to respond, but you cut him off, holding up a hand to silence him.

"I don't wanna hear it. Apologize to Pope, Rafe," you command, your voice firm and unwavering. Rafe scoffs, a bitter laugh escaping his lips. "Yeah right—" "Just stop," you interject sharply. "I’m not asking you. I’m telling you to apologise to him.”

Rafe's eyes flash with anger and frustration, but you see a flicker of uncertainty there too. He glances at Kelce and Topper again, but they remain silent, offering no support.

"You think beating up Pope makes you strong? It just makes you a bully," you continue, your voice steady and clear. "And if you can't see that, then maybe you need to take a good look at yourself." And with that, you spin on your heels, walking away. Leaving Rafe standing there, completely baffled.

[6okuto]

timeskip osamu x gn!reader fluff :-)

“is it bad if i say i wish you kept playing volleyball?”

osamu hears your question before he feels your arms wrap around his waist, his arms crossed over his chest moving to hold yours.

you lean to rest your cheek against his bicep and he looks down at you, pinches your arm as a playful threat. “depends on the reason.”

“is ‘’cause you look good in this jersey’ good enough?”

the black and gold jersey in question, wrapped snug around his arms and chest, had his last name splayed across his back, but not for him, not with his number sitting underneath. there was a match tonight—the first one back from off-season—and osamu would damn himself if he wasn’t repping his twin, even if he couldn’t be there in the stands.

“seriously?” the corner of his lip twitches, and he teases, “y’don’t wanna wear ’tsumu’s? it’s the same last name anyway.”

the bolded MIYA greets you when you pull away to look at it, and osamu wonders if it’d be selfish to say he wanted you to say no, if he confessed his heart jumped at the immediate shake of your head—“it’s not the same, though.”

you gently tug at the fabric and name, twisting it between your fingers. “i love ’tsumu, but in a very different way than i love you.”

your boyfriend does his best to tuck a stupidly lovesick smile away, along with the satisfaction and pride swelling in his chest, all behind a deep sigh and hum in thought.

he turns to wrap an arm around your shoulder where he picks stray lint off your shirt. “we have my old high school jerseys somewhere.” and he almost laughs at the speed you gasp and let your jaw fall.

“wait, really?”

“yeah, kept most of our school stuff after we graduated. wanna see if one fits?”

“yes?” you shove his chest, not trying to, but unable to move him all the same. “i can’t believe you’ve been hiding your old high school stuff from me.”

“well it’s not like i did it on purpose! had no reason to go lookin’ for it,” he defends himself. and you know he’s right—you met long after the twins’ graduation when it had all been packed up ages ago, and osamu no longer felt the need to take his jersey out just to see it, mind filled with business instead of volleyball, a new black uniform fitted to his form.

“well now we do, miya,” you tease, the last name an old acquaintance sitting oddly on your tongue, “so you better get looking before i change my mind and ask atsumu’s for his instead.”

and osamu, for once, raises his hands in surrender instead of pushing his luck; he doubts you’d do it even if he didn’t find his old jersey, but just the thought is enough. “yeah, okay, alright, anythin’ for you.”

🏷️ | @pelicanpizza @godoffuckedupcats @causenessus @priv-rose @ur-local-simp @respitable @hasti-666 @deepenthevoid

[hungharrington]

hi, gorgeous. currently daydreaming about steve’s innocent, shy girl climbing on top of him while he’s in a chair and she’s ready to ride him but his huge hands settle on her hips to stop her and she’s looking at him all confused and ready to do her part but he just says “just sit here and look pretty for me,” before he begins to absolutely pound into her, one hand on her hips and the other holding her jaw to make her look at him. he’s just praising the hell out of his little angel baby for taking him so good because he’s just so big. the mental image of his furrowed brows and clenched jaw as he watches her completely melt on his lap from pleasure has me clutching my peARLS

– sittin’ pretty

U KNOW WHAT!! UR THE DEVIL! THE DEVIL!! anyways this request had me feral the moment i started writing it… it gets a little soft at the end tho fem!reader, light choking, hella praise kink, what the request says basically <3 and around 1.7k MDNI this entire blog is 18+

It’s hard to press down your shyness as you tug the tight elastic of your underwear down your calves. They pool at your ankles. You step out of them and resist the urge to cave in and cover yourself. 

“C’mon, c’mere sweet girl,” Steve says softly, his hands smoothing over the top of his tan hairy thighs. He pats them to urge you over. 

Everything feels a bit stilted as you tiptoe over to the big comfy armchair he’s seated on, with his thighs parted. You can feel a surge of slick between your thighs at the sight of his aching cock, the head all pink and drippy just for you. It lies back against his happy trail, the vein on the side prominent. 

Steve offers you his hand, palm up. You take it and let your knees gently find either side of his hips, hovering hesitantly above him. Heat swirls between you, mixing with the fog of lust that emanates heavily from Steve. His adoring face gazes up at you, but his are eyes dark in a way that makes your tummy twist up. 

“Hi, pretty.” He murmurs, guiding your face down for a kiss. You sigh into it sweetly, hands gripping his shoulders. 

“Hi.” You whisper back, against his lips. His kiss and reverent gaze give you courage, leaning back to plant one hand on his knee. Your other hand reaches between your two bodies and curls around his throbbing cock. It’s warm and hard, twitching at the sudden stimulation. Steve hisses lowly, his tummy flexing as pleasure jolts through him. 

Even though you’re shy, that doesn’t mean you’re not impatient. Today, there will be no working him up til he’s begging to be inside you, no matter how much you desperately want to. Instead, you waste no time, tilting your hips forward to let the head of his cock catch against your entrance in a way that makes you moan. Your thighs ache a little with the slow pace you lower yourself — but Steve’s cock is always a stretch. 

It stings, just the slightest, but enough to make you revel in it. You sink down, hand shifting forward to hold his hip to prop yourself up, and your eyes flutter shut in pure ecstasy as his hard cock stretches you open— unaware of how Steve fights to keep his eyes open, drinking in every minuscule expression on your face. 

“That’s it, honey,” He coos, sweeping his hand up your hip to tug you down an inch more. You mewl, body shuddering as you clench around him. It feels fucking mind-melting how good he feels filling you up. “That’sssss it.” 

You’re whimpering by the time he’s fully hilted in you, your thighs pressed down against his own. Steve’s panting a bit, hairy chest rising and falling as he struggles to keep himself in control. You’re so wet, so warm, and god, you’re still so shy even when you’re sitting on his cock — averting your eyes even as your tight little hole clenches around him. When did he get so lucky?

Try as you might, there’s not stopping the pitiful gasp that comes out when you lift yourself back up, his cock gliding almost all the way out of your cunt. You can feel the mess you’re already making on him, can already feel the subtle ache in your thighs but none of it deviates you from your plan. You’re going to ride your boyfriend like there’s no fucking tomorrow. 

But right as you prep yourself to sink back down, Steve’s hands stop you, shooting out to grab you by the hips. You pause. Shyness creeps back in. 

“Wha…? Is something wrong?” You ask. 

Steve’s quick to comfort, one of his hands reaching up to cup your cheek. “Hey, hey, everything’s fine. I just—“ He shift his hips up a bit and you shiver, eyes fluttering closed without thinking. When you open them again, he’s grinning. 

“I just want you to sit here and look pretty for me, hm?” He leans up to kiss your cheek and it makes you entirely too distracted for what happens. 

His tummy clenches, muscles tightening, as his hips suddenly snap up, thrusting his cock back deep into you. You squeal. 

“Steve!” Your hands propel forward, grasping his shoulders, but he doesn’t pause. His hands on your hips tighten as he holds you in place, drilling up into your wet cunt, hard and fast. Pleasure dribbles through your core, hot and melty. His thighs slap against your own, causing them to buckle and you sink down a little lower — only forcing his cock deeper inside you. 

You whine, all of a sudden overwhelmed, and tuck your face away— all too aware of how every time he fucks up into you, you make a needy little uh. 

And, well, that just won’t do. With one hand keeping your hips secure, his other wanders up, creeping in around your neck. Even as he fucks you roughly, his touch is still gentle. His big hands can stretch across the expanse of your jaw— and he uses it to coax your head up. You’re already looking teary eyed, warm enough in the face that he can feel it with his hand, all from how much you’re enjoying it. Steve loves it. 

“Baby,” He manages to rasp out sweetly. You gasp, hiccupy and high pitched, embarrassed by the wet squelchy noises he’s fucking out of your cunt. “Look at you, my baby. Doing so good for me, huh? Taking it so well, angel.” 

You lean into the hand around your throat further, letting him curl his fingers around it a bit tighter. One of your hands flies up to grasp his wrist, needing, craving the connection. 

“Steve,” you cry, delirious from the pleasure. His cock fills you over and over, unravelling you from the inside. “Steve,” You repeat his name uselessly, mouth hanging open as a whiney moan takes over. 

“I know, I know.” He coos, sweet as he can be while ruining you on his cock. He’s got a furrow in his brow, his jaw set, perfect brown eyes searching your face— always looking for which button to press next, which way to make it better for you. God, you love him. 

“So fucking good, isn’t it angel?” He grunts. “Perfect fuckin’ cunt, just made to take my cock, isn’t she?” 

“Yes!” you keen, the words tearing from your mouth. “Yes, yes, yes, fuck,” Pathetic whimpery noises flow out freely, your grip around his wrist tightening as you feel heat gather low in your tummy. 

“G-God, fuck,” Steve groans, the first hint of desperation leaking into his words. His hand around your throat tightens in the slightest, a soft pressure that has your head spinning. “Can fucking feel you getting close.” 

His words make you moan, your thighs slipping further down — your hand shoots out to brace against the arm of the chair, desperate to keep him going, to reach your peak. 

“Your—“ A whimper slips into his voice. “Fuck. Your pussy gets all tight when she wants to cum— y’wanna cum?” 

You’re nodding along before he’s even finished his sentence. With how hard he’s fucking you, hips thrusting up against yours, it’s a wonder he can even see it. You whimper out a “Yes.” just in case. 

“I know you do.” He groans loudly. “Deserve to, too. You’ve been so good, so fucking good, yeah?” 

His hand holding your hip slips forward, snaking towards your clit and pleasure twists the coil in your tummy up tighter and tighter. His rough thumb pushes against it, sloppy but effective. You wail. 

“Y’deserve to cream all over my cock like a good girl, don’t you?” He rasps, throat a bit wrecked from every sweet sultry noise thats passes his lips. 

You’re not even sure if it’s words coming out your mouth anymore, just a whiney mess of yes’s tangled up in your moans. Steve whines, the rhythm of his strokes beginning to falter as his own orgasm begins to rear up. You whine and your hips move on their own accord— bouncing down on his cock to meet his thrusts midway. 

“Yes, yes, fuck, you’re so good, y’look fucking perfect bouncing on my cock,” Steve rambles, that perfect pussy-drunk expression beginning to take over him. His moans turn to whines and with one desperate whimper of your name, you topple like a house of cards. 

Pleasure unravels you. Your hips stutter and drop down, trying to cram every inch of Steve into you as you can, while your other hand claws weakly at his tummy. Heat scorches every nerve inside you, delicious and overwhelming all at once. 

The scratch of your nails, the clench of your wet cunt, the pitiful crying noise you make, all of it sets Steve off — his back arching and hips bucking up, trying to get more of your hot, wet pussy. His face screws up, a high whine tearing out his throat as his hands grapple to circle around your back, trying to get you closer.

It’s a sweat press of skin, chest to chest. You twitch and moan, face tucked away safely in his neck, as Steve lets all his noises out into the curve of your own. It’s deeply intimate — enough to make your shyness peek back up when Steve digs his face out after a minute of laboured breathing. His face is pink, his expression blissful. 

“You,” He huffs tiredly, eyes scanning your face worriedly. “You okay? Wasn’t too rough?” 

You melt a bit, a breathy laugh escaping you. “Yeah, I’m okay.” You chuckle. Nerves rear their ugly head within you before you can flatten them. “Was I— that was good?” You check. 

Steve laughs softly, nuzzling in closer to you. He smells fantastic. You can’t help how you mirror him, nosing along his cheek, letting your eyes slip shut. 

“Baby, I think you melted my brain.” He says, pressing a kiss to your cheek. 

[erwinsvow]

omg please do something about comforting rafe after his shitty day, like him trying shed a tear while laying on ur chest while u scratch his back and him being all needy for ur touch like nuzzling his nose into ur neck ughhh 🫣🫣

being nice to rafe was all too easy for you, even though he never felt like he deserved it.

you don't know exactly what had happened today. you'd been out with friends and then home with your family all day, but only because rafe had been busy. you knew it wasn't necessarily good, but you'd drop your plans in a heartbeat if rafe was free.

so you had gone all day without him—which was fine. you were able to handle it, you'd even had a good day.

but you had forgotten something—something important. so concerned with your own dependency on rafe and how much you wanted to see him, but still trying to behave as normally as possible around him, you didn't remember that rafe had also gone all day without you.

and normally, he could handle that too. if he was having a good day.

bad days without you were something entirely different for rafe, something close to unbearable. he couldn't pinpoint exactly why or when this had started, but over time, it had turned into a beast of its own.

even thinking about it made him angry. all rafe knew was that if he didn't see you in the next ten minutes, he was either going to break a door or break someone's bones.

and you, like the good girl you are, come open your door the second you hear rafe's truck pull up. it doesn't take long for you to see something's wrong, inviting rafe inside and both of you staying silent while you get up to your bedroom.

a haven of soft blankets and sweet-smelling candles, your room is your safe space. you hadn't realized it was rafe's too.

the thing with you and rafe has been, for some time now, that you don't need words to communicate all the time. sometimes looking at each other is enough to tell the other what's going on, and today was one of those times.

when rafe comes in, you close the door gently behind the two of you and then take a seat on the bed. he's still standing at the foot of the bed, and you glance up.

rafe looks, more than anything, tired. and you don't need to know why, or what caused it, or to ask him what's wrong. you just need him to feel better.

you take his hand in yours, smiling up at him when he finally glances down. you move up, resting against the headboard and trying to make as much space as possible for your boyfriend, even though he can never fit on your bed. still holding his hand, you tug it until he comes and joins you.

with still no words, you let him rest his head on your chest, running your fingers through his hair. at first he just lays there but after a few minutes, you feel his hands snake around your waist, hearing a small sigh of what you hope is relief. and knowing that he feels better, you feel a little better too.

the two of you stay like that for a while—though you don't mind. you don't want it to end. rafe is always taking care of you and this feels like your chance to take care of him.

when rafe finally shuffles and gets up to sit beside you, you hear a quiet sniffle and look down to see some wet marks on your shirt. you immediately look up at rafe, taking his hand into yours again.

"it's gonna be okay, rafe." you really mean it, and you hope he believes you.

"yeah," he clears his throat and you look away, focusing on the pattern of your quilt. rafe lifts your face towards him, fingers moving to your jaw and tilting you in his direction, before he leans in to press a kiss to your cheek. "thanks, kid."

[2knightt]

could u write the gang (seperate) x a reader thats like. deeply and unashamedly obsessed w them

not in in a weird way but like soda makes reader a cake and theyre like “wow ur so talented u should be a baker youd be the best baker in the world everyone look at this isnt my bf such a good baker?? isnt he so cool???? arent you so jealous of me???”

or they visit the DX on steves lunch break and theyre like whats all this? and steve starts explaining the car stuff to them and theyre like “omg ur so smart ur the smartest person ever the DX is so lucky to have you <333 soda come look at steves car isnt he so good at this??? babe u should like reinvent cars youd totally do it better than washington or whatever”

or just reader holding hands and sitting on laps and kissing faces at all times basically the gang x reader thats all over them

「 i just wanna get high with my lover! 」

IN WHICH—you’re totally in love with them!♡ ໋֢ 🎞️✧

📀ヾFT. THE GREASERS࿐ྀུ ♡

⌗ 🕯️ notes !𖥔༌ ᰷ ﹅ i’m Finally working on reqs. WHO CHEERED???? also new theme for fics. got bored of my old ones😜

Dallas Winston ;

“you’re so strong, dal. you look so good when you fight, did you know that? you’re like the only person who looks that good when fighting. you’re so cool.”

“…thanks, doll.”

was SO STARTLED LMFAO

like??? he’s never been showered in compliments like this before. but he DOES welcome it

cocky bastard. you boosted his ego. it’s too high now.

“i stole this for you.”

“DALLAS! you didn’t have too, oh my god! you’re so sweet—and talented! i can’t believe you stole this—for me! i have the best boyfriend ever! i am so lucky, ain’t i?”

“yeah, i know.”

SHOWS U OFF SO MUCH. he just likes the reaction you give him when he does, honestly. like dallas LOVES hearing you ramble about him when he’s beside you.

he’s all, “yup. i AM the best boyfriend ever, dickhead.”

“this my partner.”

“mhm! dally’s the sweetest ever! he’s so nice to me, don’t you think? ugh, i love him so much. he’s the best boyfriend in the world.”

the way you look at him with lovesick eyes makes him wanna hold you forever and never let go btw.

IF YOU SIT ON HIS LAP AND DO THAT??? ohmy fod he’ll lose his fucking mind!!!

dallas winston looking up at you while you cradle him between your legs, his hands gently holding your waist while you gush over him, a small pink hue across his cheeks.

AHHHH AHHHHH AHHHHHH

“you’re so handsome. you’re the prettiest boy ever. i love your hair, it’s so nice. with or without the grease.”

“yeah?”

“yeah.”

has the most DISGUSTING and GROSS lovey dovey smile across his face has you plant kissed across his face, mumbling sweet nothings as you do so.

feels like you’re an angel when you do this after a bad day btw. loves you sososososo much he’s so down bad

Johnny Cade ;

looks up at you with the biggest puppy dogs eyes you’ve ever seen as you sit on his lap, kissing his scars. johnny’s lips would be slightly parted as he seems mesmerized with every movement you make.

WHIPPED. HE IS WRAPPED AROUND YOUR FINGER. the SECOND you started gushing over, he got a small grin on his face, a sense of pride washing over him.

he, like, never knew you seen him as this magnificent being. johnny’s confidence was never great but PHEWWW you’re always there to help him!!!

“you really like my scars?”

“totally. they make you look so cute, johnny. they make you, you and that’s all i could ever ask for. you’re so cute. i love you. any person would, i’m just so glad that it’s me.”

he’d get so shy after but johnny would be walking with his chin slightly higher. ‘cause deep down he’s all, “what if they don’t actually mean it☹️?” and then you show up outta nowhere and like engulf him with a hug and he’s like “nvm…i love ‘em actually☺️.”

whenever you brag about him to people, he has to look at his feet to keep himself from smiling too much.

“and if you ever need someone to listen to you, nobody does it like johnny! he’s the best listener ever, nobody can ever compare to him. johnny’s such an angel!”

“y/n…”

he’d mumble, an embarrassed groan leaving his lips as he rubbed the back of his neck, kicking a rock.

contrary to popular belief of you being more in love, he is. he swears up and down that you’re too good to him, that you’re a real doll, that he doesn’t deserve someone like you.

johnny needs someone like this in his life NOW! and if it isn’t you it’s gonna be me.

Ponyboy Curtis ;

so fucking embarrassed i’m crying.

i believe he can’t take compliments for SHIT. so being around you, he just becomes a mess. like stuttering n’ shit.

“your voice is so pretty. you read so much better than everyone else, pony. you should do it as a job—you’d totally beat everyone. it’s not like it’d ever be a competition with you there, though. you’re so cool, pony.”

“i-uhm…thank you, y/n.”

GIGGLES SOO HARD LMFAOOOO

like at night when he’s with soda, he just rambles to his older brother about what you told him. soda thinks it’s cute in the moment, but later wants ponyboy to shut up because it’s been two hours of him gushing over what you said to him.

“and then they said that i-“

“OKAY, DAMN. i have work tomorrow and you have school. ponyboy, please.”

“…okay? they said that i was the prettiest boy they’ve ever seen.”

“holy fuck.”

like he’d be ranting about some drama with the gang or some movie he’d seen, sitting on the couch as you rest your head on his shoulder.

you look over to him, thinking he’s never looked more perfect. ponyboy had washed the grease out of his hair, the fluffy hair falling over his ears.

unconsciously, you tuned him out as you leaned over, kissing him on the cheek.

“what was that for?”

“you tell stories so well, pony. you’d make a great writer, did you know that? i’m so lucky to have you.”

“i-huh?”

WAHHH COMPLIMENTING PONYBOY WHILE ATTACKING HID FACE WITH KISSES AS HE GIGGLES ☹️☹️☹️

he’s so cute thay’s literally my man….!!!!

Sodapop Curtis ;

HE’S SO IN LOVE!!!!!

sitting on the counter while he cooks and you just rant about how perfect he is makes him WEAK IN THE KNEES.

“you’re such a good baker, soda. nobody does it like you do. you’re like—the best baker in the world. ain’t he, two-bit?”

“stop it, y/n..🤭🤭”

“nah, ‘m good.”

you brag about him to the girls that go to the DX to flirt with him. i can see it now.

soda’s just in the background giggling SOO HARD AND TWEAKING WITH STEVE LMFAOO

“no, he’s so sweet to me! i swear, he’s like the best boyfriend ever, did you know that? i’d be jealous if i was you, honestly.”

“TEEHEE”

“soda, shut up!”

“i’m the best boyfriend ever, steve😛.”

HE DOES THE SAME THING FOR YOU IT’S SO CUTEEE😭😭

“you look so cute today, y/n. i got so lucky, didn’t i? had to be blessed to even have you in my life.”

FUCK i need this man at my doorstep

like imagine sitting on his lap, him staring up at you while you push back his hair with a small smile on his face. the silence between the two of you being broken by exchanged compliments.

YOU TWO MAKE EVERYONE FUCKIJG SICK I WANT YOU TO KNOW THAT!!! YOU GUYS ARE SO PERFECT TOGETHER IT MAKES ME VOMIT!!!

Darry Curtis ;

tries to act cool and nonchalant when you do it, but he turns his head away to cover the huge smile that’s growing on his face.

“you’re so strong, dare! you’re the strongest person ever—you could totally take down anyone. isn’t he just the best, soda?”

“alright, that’s enough, y/n.”

“but you’re just so good to me, dare. :(.”

“sweetheart, please.”

“alright..”

“he’s smiling, y/n.”

“and blushin’…i love your brother so much.”

“everyone knows.”

AKDNSKDHEKENKDS SITTING ON HIS LAP WHILE HE SITS ON HIS CHAIR, READING THE NEWS PAPER🤭🤭

like your arms are wrapped around his neck, his arms around your waist as he reads the newspaper over your shoulder while lazily responding to your rambles.

“you look so cute with your reading glasses. you’re the most handsome boyfriend in the whole world. i’m so lucky, ain’t i?”

“you’re a real treat, y/n.”

—

“i love your hair, darry. you look so much better with this hairstyle than anyone else. you should be a model.”

“i’d be a terrible model, dear.”

gang is so jealous of your relationship btw. they call it bullshit that darry pulled you.

they fake gag and groan when you do this but in reality they’re like, ‘damn…when is it my turn to be happy.😒’

darry’s self esteem’s alright. it’s not the best but it’s not the worst. but you’re always there to remind him he’s absolutely perfect :).

Steve Randle ;

HE’S SOOOO WHIPPED LMFAOOOO

like i swear to god the second you went on a rant about him he was so ready to marry you right then and there.

“you’re so good when it comes to cars. honestly—you could just make your own and it’d be 100x better than whoever made them before. you’re just the best mechanic ever.”

“really? you think so? ‘cause if i were ever to i’d totally change the way they-“

and now steve’s on a 12 minute rant on how he’d change cars to rub better while you just sit there, listening to him with a smile.

YOU HAVE HIM SOOOO INSANE LIKE I SWEAR TO GOD!?? he couldn’t ask for a better partner if he tried!!!

like, i imagine steve’s always had confidence issues—being friends with soda n all don’t really help.

BUT THEN YOU CAME ALONG AND HE’S JUST VISIBLY HAPPIER😭😭.

“you’re so smart, steve. like—the smartest ever.”

“stawpp, oh my god. what else am i, though?”

“you’re cute, awfully nice, you got the prettiest eyes the world’s ever seen-“

please tell him all this while kissing him all over. he needs it so bad.

teehee lazily kissing steve randles face as the blush across his face grows from the never ending compliments that leave your lips😜

he’d totally tell you to shut up and when you don’t, he just kiss you.

AUGHHHH

Two-Bit Mathews ;

AUGH HE DOES THE SAME THING FOR YOU !!!!

honestly—he didn’t like it at first. ‘cause deep down he was all, ‘wtf??? i’m supposed to be making them swoon n’ shit??? why am i the one giggling rn??😒😡’

but overtime he’d look forward to your silly little love drunk rambles. tell him he’s the most thoughtful boyfriend ever when he’s drunk and he might cry.

“YOU REALLY THINK THAT? BABY, STA-“

and he’s like actually sobbing while hugging you.

sitting on two-bit’s lap in the backseat of his car at the drive-in, ignoring the movie you guys came to watch because you’re both too focused on each other.

kissing every inch of his face, laughs leaving his lips as you mutter small comments about how cute his laugh is. unconsciously, his grip on your hips tightening.

FUCK i’m making myself feel lonely writing this.

every single good thing you say about him gets internalized. someone could say his hair’s dumb but then in his head he goes ‘NUH-UH! y/n said my hair is absolutely perfect😜’

[eroselless]

I LIKE THE WAY YOU KISS ME 

Summary: You and Lando need to talk after what transpired on the car ride to the hotel. What will you both decide? [2.5k]

[lando norris x reader ]

MASTERLIST | Part 1 - LAY UR HANDS ON ME

Warnings: 18+ for explicit language and smut, unprotected sex, oral, missionary

Note: Thank you all so much for the love, support and patience! I wanted it to be spicy but also a little soft, I hope it comes off that way. I hope you all enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it <3 I hope it's alright that I tagged everyone who commented on part 1! Happy reading, love you all!

The tension in the air is palpable. It’s fog clinging to the morning air, waiting to dissipate. It’s a sink threatening to overflow, every passing moment teetering closer to the edge of chaos. It’s a champagne bottle, waiting for just the right push to pop. Lando stands with his back to the hotel door as you stand in front of your bed, fidgeting with your fingers. The silence in the elevator and the walk to the room is almost frightening. The adrenaline from the car ride had slowly faded as you stood, frozen in place. Your palms feel sweaty, your heart pounding in your chest. You both stand in the limbo of uncertainty’s clutch. 

“What if we just –”

“We can pret –”

Your words collide in the air, an awkward and strained laugh escaping the both of you. Doubt begins to gnaw at your mind, maybe he’s regretting it? You wonder. Maybe he was in need of some release and you happened to give it to him. 

“If you want,” you begin tentatively, voice barely above a whisper. “We can pretend this never happened.” 

Lando takes in a sharp breath, nodding. He shifts from foot to foot, bottom lip curled between his teeth as he nervously bites into it. He blinks, eyes watering. His chest begins to tighten up and he feels like he could break down then and there. Maybe in the spur of the moment, his lapse of judgment was the final straw that broke the camel's back and you’re eager to forget about the eventful ride over.  

“Is that what you want?” he asks, sitting down on his bed. His voice is quiet, barely audible as he twists his fingers in his hands. He can’t bring himself to meet your eyes and stares down at your shoes. 

A heavy silence envelops the room, and for a moment, the world seems to hold its breath, anticipation building in the man who sits before you. Blinking the tears that had snuck into your eyes, you shake your head. Your chest feels heavy as you answer him.

“No.”

The single word cuts through the air like a knife and hands there for a second. Time stands still for a moment as Lando’s head whips up to look at you. Time crashes down over you as he collides with you.

You weren’t quite sure of what you expected from your first kiss with Lando yet as his lips brushed with yours you couldn’t help but be struck by how perfect his lips felt on yours. His hands are cradling your cheeks, fingers pressing lightly into your skin as if he’s scared he’ll shatter you like fine porcelain. There is a delicate urgency in how his lips dance over yours. Years upon years of longing rising to the surface of your skin. His tongue slips past your lips, he can taste the remnants of the wine from earlier, a mixture of desire and indulgence. 

His hands move with a purpose, one gently placed at the joint of your jaw, a possessive gesture that sends a thrill of anticipation coursing through your veins. The other rests firmly on the small of your back, pushing you closer with a quiet promise of ecstasy to come. He nudges your chin up with his hand, moving slowly and carefully. 

He pulls away, eyes droopy and half-lidded with desire. His thumb brushes over your bottom lip, pulling it down slightly. You’re both heaving as you stand in the middle of the room, taking a moment to admire one another. The youthfulness and beauty of his face are so much more evident up close. It's nothing short of captivating. You had always thought he was handsome but now you couldn’t take your eyes off of him. You can count the freckles scattered on his sun-kissed skin, the speckles of colour in his eyes are like shards of glass and his long lashes frame them beautifully. 

His hands fall from your face, sliding down and behind your shoulders. “Turn around,” he says. You comply, moving to face the other way. His hands move over the expanse of your back and you get a flashback to the moment you sat in his lap, just under 15 minutes ago.  His breath is fanning on your back, a familiar chill surging through your body again. 

His fingers land on the zipper of your dress, tugging on it as he asks for your permission to take it off. You nod, collecting your hair to one side. He pulls the zip down, fingers dragging lightly over the increasingly exposed skin. He presses his mouth tenderly to your spine, pulling a shaky breath from your lips. He pushes the straps of your dress off your shoulders, sending the fabric to the floor. It leaves you standing in your underwear, having foregone a bra. You turn around to face him, eyes scanning his face once again.

His lips find their way to your jaw, nipping lightly at it. You push his blazer from his shoulders, moving to unbutton his crisp white shirt. 

He shoves you lightly but with enough force to send you falling back onto the bed. He can’t help but admire you as you lay there. Your hair is out in a halo around your head and you're propping yourself up on your elbows, eyes wide as you gaze up at him.

He pulls his trousers off and you can see the shape of his cock through his boxers. Lowering himself on top of you, he litters kisses over your chest, lips coming to wrap around a pebbled nipple. You arch your back slightly at the feeling of his lips over the sensitive bud. Your hand goes to his hair, threading through it as he pushes his face further into the plushness of your tit. His other hand is snaking down your body, snapping the waistband of your underwear. 

Your breath hitches in your throat as he moves down, sitting back on his knees. He pulls a leg up over his shoulder, beginning to trail kisses from your ankle to your knee. Your skin is soft and warm, goosebumps starting to bloom over it. 

You’re nervous as he makes his way up your thigh, teeth teasingly dipping into the soft skin. You let out a gasp as he does so, moving his lips to your other leg. In an instant, he’s back at the top of your leg, at the junction where they meet. He kisses the damp fabric of your underwear, eyes peering up at you. 

“Can I take these off?” He asks innocently. You hesitate, heart threatening to pop out of your chest. You nod, chewing on the inside of your cheek. His fingers hook around your underwear, pulling them down swiftly. Your knees come together on instinct.

He lets out a small chuckle, moving onto the floor in front of the bed. He pulls you to the edge by the crook of your knees, pressing a kiss to each one. 

“I want a taste.” He hums, only causing your heart to beat faster. His hands move up to take hold of your hips, pressing his cheek to your knees as if to ask are you ready? He waits until you’ve given him a small yet decisive yes before gently pulling your legs open. He goes straight to your sex, pressing his lips to your folds before spreading them open, making a v with his fingers. He teases you, letting out a single soft puff. His tongue darts out, dragging over the sensitive flesh but not over the part where you need him most. This causes your hips to buck up, aching for more of his touch. He continues, now plunging his tongue inside you.

“Fuck –” you moan out, body beginning to tremble with need as he shoves his face even closer. Your fingers pull harshly at his hair as he flicks his tongue expertly at your hole, his groan sending vibrations through your body. His fingers grip tight at your hips, grounding you in place. He sends a red-hot feeling through you as he fucks the muscle into you steadily. It pokes into a spongy, sensitive spot within you. He pulls away, blowing gently at the wet skin. 

“God, baby. You taste so fucking good.” 

He slips a finger in, thumb moving in careful circles over your clit, eliciting more moans from you. A smile is playing on his lips, as you feel yourself teetering towards the edge, a coil tightening in your gut. You cry out, a wave of pleasure washing over you. Your hips are bucking and your legs try to close around his head.

He doesn’t stop licking and sucking at you, easing you down from your orgasm. Your chest heaves and you shake breathlessly. He pulls away, his face glistening with your juices. His eyes sparkle with lust as he presses his lips one more time to the skin of your thigh. It’s a look you’d only imagined in your mind. 

He stands over you, admiring how you look with your cheeks flushed and a light layer of sweat on your skin. Your chest is rising up and down quickly as you come down from your high. You’re staring up at him, eyes hazy and lips parted. You look ethereal, a piece of art hanging in a museum, the image of perfection. 

Regaining your breath, your hands work on Lando’s boxers, pulling them down and letting his cock spring free. It taps lightly at his stomach, a bead of pre-cum on the red angry tip. You wrap a hand around it, thumb going to run over the crease of the head. Lando hisses and shakes his head at you begin to jerk your hand. His voice is strained as he tells you no.

“Not tonight,” he says, tongue heavy in his mouth. “Just need to be inside you.”

You nod, moving up the bed, into its centre. He crawls over you, showering your body with kisses as he does so. A kiss right over your pubic bone, one on your ribcage and the last one over the corner of your mouth. 

He stares into your eyes as he pushes in, bottom lip trapped between his teeth to keep him quiet. He fills you in a single movement, one powerful thrust. Your breath hitches as he does so, lips forming a tight o. You can feel his cock hit you just at the right spot, the pleasure making your eyes roll back. The squeeze of your cunt around his cock was better than Lando could have imagined. 

He’s pushing your knees up and wrapping your legs around his waist as he starts a slow grind. He rolls into you, pushing deeper and deeper as he goes. He feels so good, it’s almost unbearable. You’re completely at his mercy, his touch spreading fires in you, wherever it goes. 

You're writhing beneath him as he kisses you. His tongue is darting into your mouth, stealing your breath away. 

“You’re so pretty like this, baby” he says over the sound of himself sliding in and out of you with ease. The sound is slick and wet, it’s filthy yet it only makes you fall deeper into pleasure’s embrace. Your body molds perfectly into him and you find yourself wondering how you’d never noticed that before. All those times when he held you, when you held him. There were so many signs and you were both oblivious to them. 

He pushes down on your lower tummy and it presses something deeper within you. It pulls a whine from your lips as your hands find purchase on Lando’s shoulder, pulling him down so you’re almost chest to chest. 

“You’re doing so good for me” he mumbles, lips against the shell of your ear. You clench around him, the words only spurring you on. He continues to fuck you into the mattress, stroking your walls just right. 

“Lan, I –” you begin to say. The buildup is getting too much as you feel yourself swing closer to your climax. Lando can feel it too. The spasming of your body, the slight arch of your back. The air is knocked out of your chest as the moment hits, pleasure crashing over you. His name falls from your lips like a mantra and he only pushes faster. There’s nothing he wouldn’t do for you now. He thrusts into you one last time before he tips over the edge, losing himself then and there. 

You feel him let out a gasp as he collapses over you in a sweaty mess. His body is heavy laying on top of yours but it isn’t uncomfortable.  His skin is sticky and his breath fans over your neck. You’re both breathing heavily as the energy in the room begins to diminish. Your hand goes to thread through his unruly curls as he peppers light kisses to the column of your throat. 

He gets up after a few minutes, telling you to sit still as he does. He returns with a towel, gently cleaning up the mess you’ve made together. He tosses it away and crawls back towards you, pulling the cover over the top of your bodies. 

He stills against you, face nuzzling into the crook of your neck, mind only filled with thoughts of you. He can only really think of how flawlessly you fit together. Or the feeling of how delicious you feel pressed up against him. 

“I’m sorry it took me so long to make a move,” he says, peering up at you. You smile, shaking your head. “And I’m sorry for not saying anything sooner.” 

You both carry on there for a second, his cheek now pressed to your chest. His eyes have begun to flutter close as the gentle sound of your breathing slowly lulls him to sleep. His fingers are softly tracing circles on your ribcage where he holds you. There are no words exchanged between the two of you but there’s so much said in the silence as you cling to each other. 

“Lan..” you whisper, voice soft. He hummed in response, squeezing you. You nibbled your lip nervously as the words waited in your mouth.

“I love you.” his fingers stop in their tracks. He let out a gentle, barely audible chuckle. You’re unsure of what his reaction is.  He rises to his elbows and bounces slightly on the mattress, pressing a kiss to your stomach. 

“Say it again,” he whispers, voice husky. His fingers are now prodding at your side and you let out bouts of laughter as he does.

“I love you.” he nips at the soft skin of your neck, evoking a laugh out of you. His energy seems renewed as his lips continue their dance over your skin and he gradually makes his way up to your face.

“I love you too,” he says, his smile wide, pulling you on top of him. “And I don’t think I’ll ever stop.”

@noneofyourfbusinessworld

@shellybee456

@m4rt10ne

@roostersluvvr

@playboygeniusphilanthropist

@landoslutmeout

@mlfdcm

@landosmybf

@fortunatelychocolatefest

@katieschry1

@scopeiguess

@idontcare011

@mylifeislikecandycanes

[luveline]

hot bombshell bau!reader flirting and winking at spencer every chance she gets and poor spencer just gets hot and bothered very flustered and blushing😋😋

i love you jade i read ur blog like it's the daily newspaper<33

I love you anon, thank you for requesting ♡ fem!reader

"So," says a voice, low and syrupy as warmth spreads up Spencer's side, "how's my favourite agent?" 

Your perfume a subtle fragrance of jasmine and vanilla alike, sweetness that lingers —and Spencer knows, having thought of you every time he walks past the sugar ring donut stand by the Staples Mill Station for weeks— you put a hand on his shoulder and lean in for a one-armed hug. His skin erupts with goosebumps. 

"Y/N," he says, sounding much too much like a wimp for his own liking. He clears his throat. "When did you get back?" 

He's afraid to look at you. He doesn't have a choice. His heart skips a beat at the state of you, which is to say you look stunning in your dark clothes, a tight cut top that borders unprofessional and a pair of thigh hugging pants that pass the border completely. (He's kidding. Mostly. You're dressed fine. He's a loser, is all.) 

"This morning. They couldn't keep me from you if they tried, handsome. You look good." You disengage from his side. Spencer's relieved and regretful at once. "I love the haircut, they take a little more than you were expecting?" 

"Is it too short?" he asks unsurely. 

"It's perfect."

Spencer's taller than you but he never feels it until you're looking up at him, pretty eyes and quirked lips, permanent amusement in your gaze. "I missed you," you say.

"Y/N," Hotch says as he descends the steps to the bullpen. "We talked about this." 

"Pen and Morgan do it every day." Your eyebrows pinch together. 

Hotch doesn't say anything else, an empty coffee mug in hand as he passes. You don't baulk at his disapproving look, the opposite, sitting on the edge of Morgan's desk to kick your kitten heels gently, a slow back and forth that has Spencer's eyeline pulling down your legs. He shakes it off, but not before you've noticed. 

"You don't mind, do you, babe?" you ask. "My flirting?" 

It'll probably kill him sooner rather than later. "No. Don't mind." 

"'Cus I can stop, I promise. But you're the kind of boy that should be flirted with, you know? And the kind of smart that makes you crazy attractive, which is unfair. It's not like you needed help in that particular department." You lean back as you talk, scrounging around Morgan's things.

"Second shelf," Spencer says. 

You stop your searching to grin at him. Pleased, you reach down to the second drawer of Morgan's desk and find what you'd been looking for, a coveted, half-eaten pack of cherry twizzlers. 

"But we're not like Pen and Morgan," you say, bringing a twizzler to your mouth. 

"We're not?" Spencer asks, confused. He may not summon the necessary charisma to flirt back, but he likes what you have. 

"Nope." You take another bite, chew, leaving Spencer in anticipation. Finally, you swallow, lips curving into an even stickier smile. "'Cus Pen and Morgan are never gonna happen. They're better as friends…" 

You slip down off of Morgan's desk, leaving his twizzlers behind. Spencer has enough sense about him to anticipate your approach. He's proud of himself for the composure he maintains as your footsteps slow. He even takes a step back to follow you, to your abject delight. 

"But we're not just friends, are we?" you ask softly. You lift your chin. He can smell the cherry on you. 

"Y/N, enough," Hotch says from somewhere behind. You refuse to look away, and while Spencer fears his chief's tone, he manages to hold your gaze. "HR will mandate another presentation." 

"It's alright, Hotch," Spencer says. His cheeks are flushed and his palms are clammy, but his voice holds up. "I don't mind." 

"I'm sure you don't." 

"This could all be avoided if we took this somewhere a little more private," you murmur. 

"Enough. I won't tell you again, Y/N. Shouldn't you be helping Penelope with her ViCAP recalibration?" Hotch asks pointedly. 

Spencer takes it for what it is; an effort to separate you from each other before it goes too far. You know it too, rolling your eyes at Spencer like you've a shared secret —Can you believe this guy?— clasping his arm loosely in farewell.

"See you later, Spence." You call him handsome, babe, bub, even sweetheart, but Spence is the worst of all of them because of how you say it, your voice entrenched in pure honey. His heart pangs as you go.  

Hotch lingers by Spencer's side, coffee freshly filled and steaming in rings. "You know, you're getting better," he says sympathetically. 

Spencer rubs the bridge of his nose roughly. "Thanks." 

[solbaby7]

If ur still taking requests can i ask for azriel x reader. Where reader and Az are newish friends. One day Elain asks reader for help on how to please a man (I imagine elain always on her back 🤷‍♀️). Reader asks elain if its to show Az and elain just blushes sweetly saying "maybe". Reader being a girls girl shows elain how to be ontop and how to do other favors like if they were besties. ( idk if uve seen game of thrones but a girl shows khalessi how to ride khal drogo. The girl straight up straddles her with clothes on of course, And shows her. I have it in my head that while reader straddles elain Az walks in and is like 😮😮). Readers a bit jealous cuz she has a mini crush on azriel but doesnt show it. She sees elain with some hickies and what not and she decides she cant be around Az anymore (hurts too much blah idk lol). Az is like wtf! Turns out that Elain was asking for sexy help for lucien!!! Doesnt have to be detailed smutty at all, whatever ur comfortable with is cool with me. Oh btw i so so loved that possessive toxic azriel fic u posted the other day. 🫠🫠🫠 🥵🥵🥵

I love love love love love this idea! So happy you requested it🤍💗

—

Teach Me

azriel x reader

[ part 2 ]

“Well—can you help me with that?” A furious blush fans across Elain’s cheeks, eyes wide and hands fumbling at her sides. Dainty fingers dig into the intricate lace detailing of her dress, nails raking over the pattern in attempts to calm the racing of her heart.

“You want to know how to please a male,” You repeat gently, slightly shocked after she’d timidly slipped into your bedroom with flushed cheeks and sweaty palms. It took Elain ten whole minutes to reign in her rambling until she’d finally blurted it out. “Anyone in particular?” She doesn’t meet your eye, shifting her weight from foot to foot and your stomach rolls at the turn your mind takes. Elain had been spending a lot of time around Azriel; afternoons spent tending to the garden and evenings were blocked off to trail behind as she baked some new sweet treat. “Az, maybe?”

“Maybe,” Elain mutters softly, subtly taking in the contents of your room. The pictures propped against your side table and the endless jars and creams stacked neatly on your vanity. “Can you please teach me?”

Pushing side your curiosity, you offer an encouraging smile, patting at the spot beside you on the bed. “Come here.” The first step is hesitant and so is the one that follows but Elain still finds herself following the gentle command and complying even further when you urge her to lie back. You can feel her thighs shake when you swing a leg over to straddle them but the trembling subsides when you adjust her hair and straighten out her dress. “Sex is like a dance.”

Immediately, she’s hooked, hanging onto every word as if you were the Mother herself coming down for a personal visit. Briefly, Elain’s gaze flicks to the door, shoulders relaxing when noting its shut and locked; curtains drawn and the fireplace crackled with life. The smell of you is everywhere. Something light yet memorable, soft and elegant, classic and slightly sweet—soothing in every way. “A dance?”

“It starts off slow,” You begin, a sliver of your abdomen exposed in your Night Court attire. A breathable onyx top that seemed to wrap around your chest like a bandage, blending into a lighter material that was slightly see-through. “Lingering glances from across the room, the heat of feeling his eyes watching you long after you’ve looked away.” Her confusion is palpable in her furrowed brows and slight pout. “Love always begins in the eyes—I’ve heard of women who’ve finished males with nothing more than their gaze alone.”

“Finished?” Your brow raises, a teasing smirk accompanying it and the implication alone has Elain’s cheeks rosy once more. “Oh, gods. I don’t think I’m capable of anything like that.”

Your fingers trace along the length of her bare arms, holding her hands and guiding them to the sides of her head as you hover, voice low. “You are a woman. You’re capable of anything.”

Elain swallows thickly, taking in the words as if it were the first time she truly wanted to believe them. “What if he doesn’t like it? Like me or the fact that I’m not very experienced.”

“They don’t care about if you have experience or not. They simply desire what they’ve never had.” She hangs onto every word, analyzing the way you guide her through the motions of what she’d do. Talking her through the scenarios on how she’d touch; when to kiss and gently tug at hair. Eventually the blushing becomes less frequent, Elain’s eyes fluttering closed as she visualized it, working through the new feelings that brewed at the thought of being able to use such teachings.

“And they like that? Us on top?”

“If you like it then they’ll love it.” You rest her hands at your waist, demonstrating the sensual rocking of hips going back and forth. “Fae males are not like the human men you were accustomed to—all sweet and gentle. Fae’s fuck. They take control,” You’re still above her, watching as her thoughts race a mile a minute, thick lashes fluttering before she moves in a flurry. Quickly the position is changed and while it’s a little sloppy, Elain was obviously paying attention as she hooks her leg over your thighs the same way you had hers. “Good job—exactly like that.”

She lets out a laugh, seemingly surprised in her own actions but the thrill of it all is evident across ethereal features. “My heart feels like it’s going to beat out of my chest.”

“Breathe through it and always remember that no matter how highly you think of him in your mind, no matter how highly others think of him—in that room, he belongs to you. There for you to do as you please and if you’re ever uncomfortable you can always say no. You can always stop no matter how far you’ve gotten.”

Elain nods in understanding, dainty fingers barely gripping at your wrists. “Thank you for this. I don’t know what I’d do if—just, thank you.”

She lingers a tad longer, following every instruction you give and just as you’re about to correct her, your door creaks open. A familiar voice calls out your name, shadows slinking across the wallpaper but they freeze once they take you in—sprawled out against the bed with Elain straddling you, hands pinned by your head.

“We were just—“ Elain scrambles off of you, cheek and chest a furious red as her mouth opens and closes; unable to come up with a reasonable explanation before she’s sliding past Azriel and rushing down the hallway.

“Most people knock.”

But Az wasn’t most people. You’d been friends for years and long since had he forgone the formality of knocking before entering. He hasn’t moved an inch, still donning his fighting leathers and surely he must’ve just rushed in from flying because his hair was a fucking mess. Inky strands lay messily atop his head, flopping over his forehead and teasing the thick of his brows. “What was that?” A finger points in the direction Elain had just disappeared off too and you’re unable to explain why such anger swells in your gut—all too aware of the fact that another female would be using your moves on him.

Seducing him in a manor that belonged to you but would never actually be you.

“Just wait a little, I’m sure it’ll make sense soon.” Confusion sweeps over the angles of his face at the vagueness of your words, skewing the corners of his mouth and you have to physically tear your eyes away before you did something stupid. Like, kiss him. You suck in a sharp breath, a hand curling around the doorknob. “You should get to bed, Az. It’s late.”

You can’t bear to see the look on his face when you close the door on him but it was for the best. It was one thing crushing on him while knowing he wanted another. But it was more complicated now, teaching the object of all his desires exactly what to do to him—how to please him and draw out the sounds you’d been dreaming about for decades.

You flop down on your bed, nose scrunching at the lingering smell of Elain on your pillows.

Sleep doesn’t grace you with her presence that night, instead offering a series of scenarios of what could be happening a few hallways down.

Elain’s back two days later, a goofy grin spread across her cheeks and a line of hickeys branding the side of her neck in a way that makes your stomach turn. It takes everything in you to hide the jealously, to smooth over the embarrassment of ever possibly thinking that Azriel would go for you when he had a blushing Archeron hanging off his arm. “I take it that it went well.”

“More than well,” Elain confessed, dressed in a pale shade of green with ivy’s laced into the thin sleeves. “It was perfect—everything was perfect thanks to you.” She continues on, divulging naughty details and devastating descriptions of Azriel’s fingers grazing at bare skin, the tickle of his hair against her cheek, the warmth radiating from his body when the nights chill became too much. “I’d always heard whispers about the males of Autumn but you guys really weren’t joking,” Your head tilts to the side at that certain detail, brow quirking and your spoon halts its swirling about the teacup. “Fire really does run through their veins.”

“Autumn males?” Your hair flicks behind your shoulder with the wild way you turn to face her, arms crossed loosely over your chest. “You were with Lucien last night?”

Elain nods with a knowing smile growing at the corner of full lips, the tulle of her dress shifting obnoxiously when she takes a seat on your bed.

“I guess I just assumed you’d be with Azriel.”

“Not quite my type,” She replies wistfully, gaze far away as if she were reminiscing on the night before and the male involved. “He’s yours though,” It’s not a question but a statement, thrown out there as if it were a known fact amongst others and you were the last to be let in. “—you like him.”

The teacup pressed to your lips muffles the words but Elain still understands perfectly clear. “”He’s my friend.”

“Friends don’t really look at friends the way he looks at you.” You swallow audibly, attempting to hide your interest and yet it’s the quick flick of your eyes that gives you away. “It’s exactly as you said the other night,” Elain raises from the bed, a gentle hand trailing up your arm the same way you’d done to her. “Love always begins in the eyes. Just look at him—really look at him and see what’s right in front of you.”

Your hands tremble in your lap and for the first time in a very long while, it was you that felt like the blushing virgin searching for answers and not knowing where to look. “I don’t think I’m capable of handling what I might find.”

“You are a woman,” Elain softly answers. “You’re capable of anything.”

[madschiavelique]

miguel must have some severe neck pain due him being 6’9 and needing to bend to speak with everyone. so i suggest reader to lay him on his back and ride the shit out of his face till his neck is properly straightened and he is drunk dumb on your juices 😇

oMG anon you're a genius !?!? this is SO creative i'm kissing ur brain

summary : you ride miguel's face until it fixes his neck

content warning : SMUT (18+) minors dni, oral sex (reader receiving), miguel eats you out, overstimulation, no use of Y/N, fem!reader, miguel is pussy drunk word count : 888

Miguel's days always seemed to end with a particularly unpleasant muscle ache forming in the back of his neck. The cause and sole reason for this? His height.

It's quite simple, Miguel was huge, 6'9 to be exact, and few people in the Spider Society were anywhere near his height nor width.

He lowered his neck to look at everyone, feeling like a tower trying to talk to passers-by in the street. He couldn't shake off this feeling, but he was always standing up, rare were the moments of his day where he was sitting anywhere.

One minute he was talking to a smaller spider, making him bend his head to maintain conversation politely enough. In another, he had to whisper to discuss confidential matters in public, making him bend the rest of his body as well. And now he'd just come back from a meeting where he'd spent most of his time talking to members smaller than himself.

And he'd already tried so many things to fix his situation: putting essential oil on the back of his neck and massaging it until he relaxed, putting a hot water bottle under his pillow when he was lying on his bed, or even putting on a neck brace, even though he felt profoundly ridiculous when he was wearing it and kept it on just for when he was in his quarters. He'd even asked you to massage the back of his neck at times, but you weren't always available to help him with that.

It was then, as he was returning once again to his quarters where you were staying, complaining and massaging his neck from his long day, that you came up with a little idea. You told him what you had in mind, and he raised an eyebrow, his interest piqued.

And that's how you found yourself on top of him, his head on the mattress revelling in your cunt while his face was pressed against your thighs. His saliva mixed with the succulent juices you were spilling for him dripped down his cheeks, and you were breathless.

"Miguel," you protested, "please-" your breath was ragged, your thighs trembling around his face, "it's too much."

Four, Miguel had given you four orgasms in this position alone by now, returning each time, never, oh never, tiring of your taste and warmth. At first you'd ridden him proudly, your pelvis undulating fluidly against his mouth and clutching your fingers in his hair. But now it was he who held your pelvis, preventing you from withdrawing from him as your own hands rested on his.

He seemed unstoppable, but on your side, every sensation seemed to be heightened tenfold as his fingers ran gently over your thigh sending an extra wave of heat through your lower belly. He was parting your folds with his toungue, fucking you with it relentlessly.

"Once more, por favor, nena," he mumbled, the sensation of his voice vibrating against you like that sending electric shocks through your body, a cry escaping you as you tilted your head to the side, disorientated, hoping you'd even be able to stand until your next orgasm.

You were always worried that you'd suffocate him, that your whole weight resting on his face would make him choke or that your thighs pressing against his cheeks would hurt, but to be honest, that's all Miguel wanted.

He wanted to cram himself between your thighs, you crushing him made him feel light after all, so he gripped your thighs and hips, holding you firmly against him as he nestled himself further against you.

He was drunk on you, drunk on your essence, your skin that he could grip, and he was proud to make you come so many times. Your weight was pressing down on his head superbly, and he didn't care if he ended up smothered under you.

His tongue worked wonders, his lips sometimes sucking on your clit, wrapping it in saliva and then kissing it afterwards. Sometimes you could even feel him graze your flesh with the tip of his fang. He hardened his tongue, stretching it out to penetrate you as far as he could, kissing your lips from time to time, and all these gestures again began to tighten the knot that had formed in your lower stomach.

"Miguel-" you whimpered, feeling as if all the words you wanted to say were going to come out pre-chewed and unintelligible.

Your fingers snaked through his hair, gripping it hard to anchor yourself, and he let out a moan against your pussy that vibrated through your entire being. He was pulling the strings of your body and you were singing for him.

The orgasm swept through you and fireworks went off inside you like a supernova, your whole body shaking as your moan rippled through your throat. You suddenly folded in half like a wilting flower, jolting as Miguel laid you back against him, stroking your hair and gently kissing your forehead as he whispered soft, tender words of praise.

However, your suggestion had indeed worked, because just after this pleasant experience, there was no longer any pain in the back of his neck. And from now on, when the accumulation of pain and aches began to make him feel too exhausted, he knew what he had to do.

[ellecdc]

i love ur writing sm!! <3 can i request a poly!marauders x reader who has the personality of kat stratford from 10 things i hate about you? reader speaks her (or their!) mind and known as a "bitch" but shes really a softie for the people she cares about. much love♡

Thank you so much, lovie!!! Hope this is what you were looking for 🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶

poly!marauders x feisty fem!reader

CW: burn/injury (nothing grave), use of Y/N, jokes at the expense of Hufflepuff House (no hate to the house, I too am a Hufflepuff)

By some brilliant stroke of luck, Professor Slughorn was away at some kind of Potioneer's convention in Sweden which left the Gryffindor and Slytherin's 6th and 7th year potion’s classes hosted by a substitute. That substitute happened to be none other than Professor Binns - the horrifyingly boring History of Magic professor. Normally, the presence of the ancient ghostly professor would be mind-numbing, but seeing as he’d just barely gotten today’s instructions up on the board before promptly falling asleep (and James threw a muffliato spell around him to keep it that way), the class was actually quite lively.

“How was I supposed to know we were only meant to add a pinch and not the whole jar?!” Barty Crouch Jr asked you incredulously.

“Uhm, perhaps by reading the sodding instructions!? Circe’s tits; is it Evan’s turn with your shared braincell today?” You spat as you vanished your soiled potion. The sound of an explosion, followed by Evan’s laughing, followed by Regulus hissing “Rosier!” proved you wrong.

“Ah, the braincell eluded both of you today; my mistake.” You muttered as you began your potion from scratch.

“Reggie! Y/N’s being mean to me!” He tattled from across the room.

“It’s not mean if it’s true, babe.” Regulus responded without lifting his head from his own worktable.

“How rude.” Barty whined. 

“You’re starting to sound like a Hufflepuff, Junior.” You taunted as you swatted at his hands that were vying for your potions ingredients.

“How dare you. I have never been so insulted.” He seethed from his place on his stool.

You smirked. “You don’t listen much, do you?”

“Now, maybe that was a little harsh, L/N, comparing him to a Hufflepuff.” Dorcas called over to you from her worktable.

“You’re just as soft as he is, Meadows.” 

“Nobody is safe…” Marlene murmured with a smirk.

Sirius and James’ potion station made a startling pop sound before James hissed in pain. “Fuck!” He gritted through his teeth.

You looked over to find James holding his arm against his chest protectively, Sirius grimacing at the sight, and Remus rolling his eyes because he told those sods to be careful. You immediately abandoned your worktable and a petulant Barty and made your way to the Gryffindor side of the room.

“What happened!?” You cooed as you gently encouraged James’ arm away from his body so you could inspect it.

“I added too much billywig sting. The potion overflowed and got Prongs.” Sirius offered guiltily. You cooed again and gently kissed the space beside the angry looking burn on James’ arm. 

“Barty! Grab me the medikit from the supply cupboard!” You called over your shoulder. 

Your request was met with a scoff. “I’m not one of your trained dogs, L/N. You’ll have to show me at least one tit before I’m at your beck and call.”

He barely had time to duck as you hurled a beaker at him.

“Okay, okay. Salazar’s saggy balls, you’re wicked.” He muttered as he made his way to fetch the medikit.

Remus was planning to let those bell-ends clean this up on their own, but he relented at how sweet you looked as you fussed over James; unable to hide his fond smile as he made his way over to his three lovers from his own workbench he shared with Peter.

“What did I say at the beginning of class?” Remus asked impishly. Sirius seemed to gulp a little before he murmured “to read twice, add once”.

“Mhm, and what did you do?” Remus continued.

Sirius, now growing tired of feeling shamefaced, muttered “obviously not that…” which earned him a pat on the arse from the werewolf.

Barty returned with the medikit and leaned his cheek forward as if waiting for you to press a kiss to it for his assistance. You whacked him in the head with said kit before opening it to find the burn paste and poison neutralizer.

All contempt melted away from your face as you turned your sights from your potions partner to one of your three boyfriends. “It might sting, but I’ll try to be gentle.” You murmured to James as you began to work on his wound.

As Remus peered at the burn, it really didn’t look all that bad – but the way you were treating James made it seem like you thought he was going to lose his arm. Suddenly, Remus saw a small wet mark land on James’ arm from where you were hovering over him.

“Dovey, you don’t have to cry! He’s okay.” He cooed at you as he began rubbing soothing circles onto your back, pressing a conciliatory kiss to your temple.

“M’not crying.” You muttered somewhat petulantly. “The smell of flesh burning off of Jamie’s arm is assaulting my sinuses.”

Sirius officially seemed more distraught that he upset you than he did about burning James.

“Oh, my poor, sweet girl.” Sirius murmured at you as he pulled you away from James’ arm.

“I’m not done, Sirius!” You argued, though you never tried to pull away from Sirius’ grasp.

“Remus will finish up angel, give Sirius hell for me.” James winked at you. You flushed at the attention and hid your face in Sirius’ chest.

“Poor lovey, so worried about her boys, hm?” Sirius cooed into the crown of your head where his lips were pressed. You hummed in the affirmative.

“What the actual fuck?” Barty interrupted the moment as you all turned to take in his astounded face. “You’re holding a Chinese Chomping Cabbage that close to your jugular, Black? Do you have a death wish?”

“No need to be jealous, Junior. Your boyfriend is right over there.” James goaded from his place as Remus finished wrapping up his wound.

Not needing to be told twice, Barty all but skipped across the room to Regulus before he threw himself onto the quiet boy’s lap. Regulus, hardly sparing his boyfriend a glance, stood and dumped the boy off his lap before returning to his stool and carrying on with his potion. 

You could no longer see Barty from your place in Sirius’ chest but based on the vibrations from his torso and the chuckles of your other boyfriends, you were sure he was flat on his ass.

“I hate it here.” He cried.