#idk what came over me to write this

[microcosmtoxin]

unironically i think fandom and fanfic is probably responsible for way more knowledge of safe sex for people under 30 than any actual sex education

[mangostarjam]

taking care — wind breaker, aged up sakura haruka x f!reader, established relationship, "brat" as a petname, smut towards the end, 4.4k words

"Aren't you too old for this?"

Sakura Haruka grimaces and shoves his bruised hands into his pockets. You raise an unimpressed eyebrow. There's dirt smudged along his cheekbone and the end of his sleeve is ripped.

"They were tryin' to hit on a girl." It comes out mumbled. Haruka's two toned gaze is averted to the top of your head. It was always difficult to get him to meet your eye in your high school years, but ever since he hit his growth spurt and graduated you feel like it's gotten worse.

"Haruka-kun," you sigh, "c'mere."

You grab his arm and tug, taking advantage of his brief moment of surprise to drag him into the back of the bakery. Your coworkers wave and smile at the former school captain but otherwise leave the two of you alone.

"Y-you…! What're you doing?"

The back office of Saboten is neat and clean and thankfully empty. You shove Haruka into a chair and grab his chin, ignoring the flare of heat beneath your fingers as he turns bright red.

"Did you get hit on the face?" you ask, leaning closer to look. The dirt smudging his cheek is loose, brushing away easily when you stroke the smooth skin there. You probe gently at the strong bone beneath and ignore the way his chest seizes with a held breath.

"No," he mumbles, "it's just dirt."

Your attention is drawn — as always — to his eyes. A muted, stormy gray blue and a bright, shimmering gold meet your unabashed gaze as your thumb strokes along his cheekbone again.

"I'm glad you didn't get hurt." You allow yourself a tiny grin as he scrunches his nose at you. "You could've let the new Bofurin kids handle it… but those guys will definitely think twice about messing with anyone from our neighborhood now."

"'Course," Haruka sniffs. You wonder if he knows he's leaning into your palm. "It was a quick fight, anyway. Only losers are late."

"I told you, you don't have to pick me up from work. I can handle myself." You giggle as he scoffs. You slide into a crouch, propping up your elbows on his knees for balance. "Give me your hands, Haruka-kun."

Your boyfriend hesitates for a short moment before releasing a breath. His hands are rough, but he flips them over obligingly and doesn't flinch when you curl your fingers around his wrists. "You've bruised your knuckles again," you tsk. "I'll go grab the first aid kit."

"W-wait." Haruka's entire face is charmingly pink, the gentle hue sweeping along his cheeks and up to the tips of his ears. "You don't… I mean, I don't need you to —"

"I know," you hum, tugging his hands up to brush a gentle kiss along his skin. "But I want to."

Haruka stays quiet as you fetch the first aid kit and get to work disinfecting the tiny cuts on his hands. You're used to the comfortable silence, basking in the familiarity of tending to his battle wounds in the back of the bakery where you first met.

You never would've guessed that part of your job duties at the bakery would include taking care of the new out-of-towner all those years ago, though it wasn't like he went along with it quietly. Your boss at the time was adamant that the Bofurin boys deserved all the freebies the bakery could afford to give, and she never minded when you'd pop off to the back alley to administer first aid.

Nirei was the one who knew you were handy with a medical kit, but it was Suo who eventually tricked their first year captain into coming to you. Haruka was a lot pricklier back then, shying away from casual human contact like everyone was out to get him but diving into fights like nobody's business.

Luckily for you, in spite of his speed and reflexes, Haruka definitely wasn't used to girls who were willing to literally sit on him to force him to stay still for first aid. After enough times shoving freshly baked bread into his hands and making him into your first aid practice dummy, he started to show up outside the bakery's back door on his own, often looking like a disgruntled street cat.

Little by little, you learned which breads he preferred and you begged Kotoha to teach you how to make omurice the way Haruka liked it. Little by little, he stopped flinching away from your touch and even let you lean against him when you needed a short break from work or studying, propping your head up against his shoulder and staying still enough that sometimes you'd fall asleep.

Little by little, the two of you fell in love.

Haruka doesn't say anything as you finish smoothing the tape holding his new wrappings together, but he flips his hands to hold onto you as you rise from your knees. You smile. "Do you wanna get dinner at Cafe Pothos? Kotoha-chan might make fun of you, though."

"She'll make fun of me no matter what," he grumbles. You snicker as he ducks his head. From this angle, you can only see the pale white eyelashes of his left side pressing against his skin as he takes a deep breath. "Don'tcha need to finish your shift? I'll be outside."

"Aw, are you worried about me?"

"Shaddup" Haruka huffs. "As if I care."

You grin as he rises to his full height, still steadily avoiding eye contact as you squeeze his hands. After all these years, it's cute how flustered he still gets when you tease him. "Haruka-kun? You can let me go now."

"…Can't."

"Oh?" you raise an eyebrow and tilt your head to catch his eye. He scowls. "If you just loosen your fingers—"

"Sh-shut up." You watch patiently as your boyfriend takes a deep breath. It's quiet in this back office, though a wall is shared with the employee locker room and you can hear a few of your coworkers laughing and chatting indistinctly. The smell of rising dough and freshly baked bread permeates the room, cut through with the sharp tang of antiseptic cream.

Haruka's ears are still red. You catch a glimpse of them through his black and white hair and squeeze his hands again. So cute. "Haruka," you say.

"…What?"

You rise up on tiptoes to kiss him, holding onto his hands for balance as you rock forward. Haruka predictably freezes before making a rough sound and kissing you back, letting you take the lead as you lean into him. His heartbeat jumps beneath your lips as you move to kiss at the soft spot below his jaw, earning another strangled noise that makes you smile into his skin.

It's warm. You think maybe your own ears are red enough to match his, but you don't give him a chance to notice, pressing another quick kiss to his lips and disentangling yourself. "I've gotta get back to work. I'll see you in a bit, 'kay?"

You leave him in the back office, knowing he'll find his way to the alleyway behind the bakery to wait for you, as always. Your coworkers don't mention how long you were missing, but you take over the mopping and cleaning duties as a thank you anyway.

Haruka doesn't take your hand when you meet him after your shift, but he walks close enough that your shoulders brush with every step. The gentle ringing of the wind chimes strung up below the shopping district sign follows the two of you on your walk towards home.

"What should we have for dinner, since you don't wanna endure Kotoha's teasing?" you ask, grinning lopsidedly when Haruka snorts in response. The street lamps cast a glow along his black and white hair, haloing him in a light gold that pales in comparison to his golden eye.

He glances sideways at you as you pause at a crosswalk. You catch a flash of gold and blue before he faces forward again. "You're comin' over?"

"Yes, or else you'll eat instant noodles again and die of malnutrition," you say. The two of you step into the street, though he steps slightly ahead of you to make sure it's clear. "Unless you don't want me to."

"Let's have curry."

"Did you get ingredients for curry, mister?" you ask, bumping your shoulder into his arm teasingly. "Or will we need to stop by a konbini again for emergency supplies?"

"That was just one time," Haruka grumbles, but he glances back at you fondly as you laugh. "And I went shopping earlier, brat."

He lets you hold onto his sleeve as you enter his studio apartment and stays steady as you toe your shoes off in the genkan. The place is vastly improved from the first time you stepped foot in it all those years ago, when you were delivering food for a sick Haruka.

Gone are the creaky hinges and peeling paint — the walls are smooth and clean, the cabinet doors are all securely attached, and there are actual curtains hanging over the balcony doors. He still sleeps on a futon, but he also got a low table and cushions for guests after you complained about eating on top of cardboard boxes, and he got a dresser to store his clothing after you took him shopping so he'd stop wandering around town always wearing his high school uniform.

Making dinner is always fun, with Haruka, because even though he's grown and learned a lot, you still get to tease him about his bulk stack of instant noodle packages and he still turns bright red when you lean over the table to offer him a spoonful from your plate.

He's more relaxed here, more willing to close the gap between you when you reach out to him. It used to worry you in the beginning — would you always be the one to make the first move? Did he actually like you, or was he just going along with your flirting because he didn't know any better?

Then he does something like swiping his thumb along your lips and sticking the digit in his mouth, laughing at your surprised gasp and gathering up the dishes before you can form a coherent thought. He asks about your day and listens as you tell him about the cute little kid who came into the shop asking for curry bread because "that's Sakura-taicho's favorite, and I wanna be like him when I grow up!"

You bask happily in the furious blush that paints his skin, grinning to yourself as he stammers and jerks his face away.

"Did you get new towels?" you ask, handing him a soapy plate to rinse off. Your boyfriend takes it, huffing an amused snort when you yawn widely. It's nearing your bedtime, and your sated appetite is making you even sleepier.

"Yeah," Haruka says, "since you were complainin' last time that mine're scratchy."

"Oh, nice," you say, rinsing the suds off your hands and moving to stand behind him. You shove your face into his shoulder blades before he can move, wrapping your arms around his middle as he tenses beneath you. It's been ages since he was an active fighter defending the town, but you can still feel the power and strength of his densely packed muscles twitching under your hold. "Mm, I'm sleepy…"

"Gwah! What are ya, an octopus?!" Haruka sets the clean plate on the drying rack and settles his hands on top of yours, but he doesn't move you. He could easily overpower you, though you're hugging him pretty firmly, pressing your entire body up against his as you take a deep breath. "The hell're you doin'?"

"Hugging you," you say. Haruka's fingers tighten around your wrists, but he still doesn't move you.

"I got that, genius."

"I'm just recharging before I have to head home," you mumble into his shirt. You're saving both of you from embarrassment, here, hugging him from behind like this, so really he should be grateful that you're so considerate of his feelings.

"It's late."

"I know," you whine, squeezing him just a little bit harder. "I don't wanna think about it."

"You have a toothbrush here."

Oh. "I don't have clothes here."

"You can borrow mine." Haruka stiffens even more as your hands clench the front of his shirt. "I-It's not like I'm tryna get you to stay over! It's just that it's late and you've gotta get up e-early tomorrow! I'm not some kinda pervert!"

You giggle into his back and nuzzle your forehead into the strong muscle there as he finally relaxes. "I'd be kinda upset if you didn't think about it a little bit, Haruka-kun. I am your girlfriend, after all."

Haruka lets out a huge sigh and moves to brace his hands on the counter. "You can take a bath first. Lemme go heat up the water."

"Are you trying to be a gentleman again?"

"Wuh — what're you talkin' about? I already told you I'm not a pervert!"

You laugh. "Last time you went to heat up the water for me, you didn't come out for a solid twenty minutes. I thought you passed out in there."

"That was just — I was just —!" Haruka hangs his head and you press your cheek against his back. You can feel his heartbeat pounding in double time. "I was tryin' to calm down."

"You don't have to, y'know," you say softly, patting at his firm chest with a sigh. "I wanna do it too."

Haruka chokes on his spit. Or at least, you think that's what happens, because he lapses into a coughing fit and gently pushes you towards the bathroom with a red face. He refuses to answer your concerned questions, only shoving a pair of shorts and a t-shirt into your arms before shutting the bathroom door on your amused face.

You shower and bathe on your own, humming a nonsensical tune as you lather up with his shampoo and body wash. It's a minor miracle and mostly a testament to your relationship that he has amenities at all, the clean smelling soaps clearly picked out with a thought towards your possible use of them. It makes your heart stutter in your chest when you notice that he's stocked your favorite brand of lotion on the counter and even left a clean face towel and headband for you to use while washing your face, as if he knew you'd need them eventually.

His clothes are a little too big on you, but you cinch the waistband of his shorts and hope for the best as you step out of the bathroom. Haruka is sitting stiffly at the low table, glaring down at his phone as the screen lights up with texts.

"Is everything okay?" you ask.

Haruka looks up and freezes. You pause in the act of adjusting his shirt on your shoulders, blinking at your boyfriend as he seems to go through five stages of something before he turns a bright cherry red and slams his eyes shut. You snort.

"You've seen me naked before, Haruka-kun."

"S-shaddup! T-that's different!"

You get on your knees in front of him and cup his face in your hands. Haruka doesn't flinch, but he cracks open one stormy blue eye like he's worried about what he might see. You roll your eyes at him. "Are you good? Why do you look so pissed at your phone?"

"Oh," Haruka blinks and glances sideways at the offending item. His face is warm in your hands. "The guys found out you're staying over."

"Are they giving you advice on how to get laid again?" you ask, giggling. "I love you, but please don't listen to Umemiya-san. I promise I don't get turned on by plant based pickup lines."

"I'm gonna shower!" Haruka stands abruptly and shuffles past you, but he pauses at the door. "You can read it, if ya want. The chat thread."

You raise an eyebrow and pick up his phone as he shuts the bathroom door behind him. A generic wallpaper greets you as you swipe it open, but you notice a star emoji next to your name in his message history, which makes you smile.

The chat thread with Haruka's former classmates is at the top, filling with more unread notifications as you watch. Scrolling through, you grin to yourself as the boys send teasing and shy stickers, interspersed with their own complaints of struggling to find partners for themselves and throwaway comments about "that lucky bastard Sakura" snagging "the cutest girl on Tonbu street".

"What're ya laughin' at?" You blink as Haruka crouches in front of you, a towel hanging around his neck. He's shirtless, and you watch with interest as a gentle pink flush deepens and spreads along his skin. "Quit starin'!"

"Y-you're the one who came out shirtless," you squeak, setting his phone aside and reaching out for him. Haruka chews on his lip but lets you touch him. "That's so unfair!"

You trail your hands down his bare sides and smile as he tries to suppress a shiver. Then you reach for his hands. "The first aid kit is here," Haruka says, stretching out to grab it from its shelf. The movement puts his hard muscles on full display, though you have a feeling it's unintentional. Regardless, you can't quite tear your eyes away from his chest and stomach, watching as the muscles of his abs flex when he returns to his crouch.

"You're so stupidly hot," you mutter, accepting the kit and snapping it open. "I can't believe you just walk around looking like this."

"H-huh?" Haruka's eyes widen in surprise. You grab his hands to keep him from running away, but he stays still as you reapply ointment and bandages to his knuckles.

"I know you find it hard to believe, since people used to give you shit about your looks, but you are…" you pause and glance up at him, taking in his smooth skin, his beautiful gray blue and golden eyes, his fluffy black and white hair, "stupidly hot."

Your boyfriend sighs and places a hand on your hip. You set the first aid kit aside and grin up at his pleasantly pink face. "Can I kiss you?"

"Yes, please."

Haruka kisses you slowly, tentatively. It's a little precarious, leaning up as he crouches in front of you, so you drag him to the futon and pull him over you, tugging him close by the ends of his towel. "You're so warm," he mutters, shifting his weight on his elbows and doing his best to keep from crushing you.

You sigh into the next kiss, wrapping your legs around his waist and pulling him down, huffing a laugh when he grunts and smacks his hand against the floor in surprise. "You're so far from me, how can you even tell?" you tease.

"You're always warm," Haruka grumbles. He noses along your cheek, smiling against the smooth skin there as you giggle. "And soft."

"Are you callin' me weak?" you ask, tilting your head to kiss him again. He breaks the kiss with a pant, nipping at the exposed skin of your collar as your shirt shifts. "Ah — hey!"

Haruka groans, one of his hands going down to grip at the soft give of your waist, holding you still as he grinds down into the cradle of your thighs. You moan as his hard length drags against you, wiggling your hips into the friction as something pulses in your core. "I should've given you another shirt."

"A-another shirt? What's wrong with t-this one?" You gasp as he rolls his hips again, arching into the touch as his free hand slips beneath your borrowed shirt to brush against the swell of your chest. You grab at his shoulders and back, dragging your blunt nails along his skin as you pant. "I l-like this shirt!"

"I like it too," he admits, hiding his face in the juncture of your neck and shoulder. His hand slides up to cup one of your tits, tugging and pinching as he sucks a bruise into your neck. "Y'look damn good in it."

You whine, throwing your head back as he shoves the shirt halfway up, snagging on the bottom of your breasts before he yanks it off of you entirely. He drapes himself back over you almost right away, kissing you breathless until you lick into his mouth to earn a strangled groan.

Haruka seems content to keep kissing you, and normally you wouldn't mind, but your borrowed shorts are getting uncomfortably damp and he keeps rolling his hips mindlessly and it's driving you a little insane.

"Haruka, touch me already," you plead. Your boyfriend pulls apart a few scant centimeters, two toned eyes scanning your face wildly until you grab one of his hands and shove it down your shorts. "O-oh, yes, please right there —!"

"Fuck," he bites out. "You're so wet."

"Haruka, you need to stretch me out," you say breathlessly, squirming as his fingers slide and press against the wetness along your lips. "Y-you're too big to go right away, you've gotta ngh —"

He dips one finger into your clenching pussy and freezes above you. It would be almost comical except for how much hotter it makes you, forcing you to buck into his hand as he pants. "S-stop squirmin' or I'll come in my fucking pants," Haruka grunts, forcing himself to begin fingering you in earnest.

He grits his teeth when you whine at another added finger, scissoring them immediately to hurry this up. He doesn't want to hurt you, but when you're laid out like this right in front of him, looking so pretty and perfect, it's taking everything he has not to rut into you like an animal.

"I'm ready, 'm ready," you breathe. You wrestle the two of you out of your bottoms and giggle when he sends one pair of shorts flying into the wall, but your attention is immediately drawn to the trail of black and white strands leading down to your boyfriend's cock. "Can I?"

"Fuck no," Haruka says, positioning himself between your legs again. "D'you want me to die?"

That makes you laugh. You reach out for him as he spreads your legs apart with rough fingers, his easy, overwhelming strength making something throb in your gut. Your sex life is actually pretty healthy, considering your respective jobs and commitments and Haruka's healing trauma. He's always been careful and attentive to your needs as you learned about desire together. It's not like you're deprived of it, or anything.

But when Haruka slowly pushes his way inside you, the muscles along his jaw ticking with restraint, the feeling of being filled by him makes something snap in your core and you cum with a breathless cry.

Haruka freezes immediately, hands slamming down on either side of your head as you clench and squeeze his cock unrelentingly. He barely manages a shallow thrust before he has to freeze again, hot breaths puffing on your face.

"Did you just…?"

"Uh huh."

"Does that always happen??"

"Your dick isn't magical, Haruka-kun," you giggle, looping your arms around his shoulders and wiggling your hips a little. "This isn't going to happen all the time, so don't get used to it."

"I wasn't sayin' that!"

Haruka pouts into your next kiss, but you lick into his mouth and manage to draw out a low groan and an aborted thrust. The ache in your gut hasn't lessened much. If anything, the pressure of his thick cock nestled inside you is making you tingle all over, and the way sweat starts to bead along his hairline makes you want to make him cry.

"You can move, please," you breathe, "you don't have to hold back."

"Don't wanna h-hurt you," Haruka grunts, pulling out slowly only to thrust back in with a force that makes your tits sway. He screws his two colored eyes shut, brows furrowing in concentration. "Fuck, you feel so good."

"You feel good, too," you sigh. "You can let go, I promise."

Haruka's next thrust makes you moan, and something in him seems to snap. He fucks you into the futon relentlessly, propping your ankles up on his shoulders, his dick hitting that spot inside that makes you see stars fuzzing along the edges of your vision. The angle presses your clit against his skin with every thrust, sending you quickly spiraling into another orgasm as you cry out his name.

"Hah, oh fuck I'm gonna —!"

Haruka groans a strangled garble of your name as he reaches his peak, thrusting into you deeply as his cock throbs and releases thick gobs of sticky cum inside you. He lets go of your legs immediately, pressing firmly into the muscles there to ease the strain of being stretched like that for so long, but he hides his face in your neck as the two of you catch your breath.

"Should I call in sick for work tomorrow?" you mutter absently, somewhat desperately grasping for some semblance of sanity. "I dunno if I'll be able to walk."

"Shit, did I hurt you?" Haruka asks, lifting his head and wincing at the pull of sweaty skin. He's glowing, bright and handsome above you, his hair damp with sweat. His two colored eyes are a little watery, his eyelashes sticking together in clumps with unshed tears from how hard he came. The sight makes something squirm in your gut.

You reach up to push his bangs out of his face and snicker as the strands stick up. "You didn't hurt me, you just fucked the strength out of my limbs. We'll need another shower."

Haruka blushes hotly, an impressive feat considering he's still solid and hard inside you. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"I'm not hurt," you promise. You cradle his face in your hands and he leans into the touch. His hips roll slowly against you and he bites on his bottom lip as you gasp. "Haruka?"

"Maybe you should call in sick for work tomorrow."

"Seriously?"

Haruka nods, still blushing hard. "I swear I'm not a pervert, but you…"

You gape at him. "Are you calling me a pervert?"

"N-no!" You don't give him a chance to continue, leaning up to kiss him. You're both smiling when you pull away. "Who knew doing this stuff would feel better than fighting?"

You laugh out loud at that and flop back into the futon. "Are you seriously comparing the two things? Why're you thinking about fighting right now?"

"Can't help it," Haruka says, shrugging. "I could die when you make me feel so good. And fighting's what got me the cutest girl on Tonbu street."

[unboundprompts]

A SHORT X TALL ROMANTIC RELATIONSHIP!!!! yes pls. they would be funny if you wrote it so pls

Height differences are my kryptonite I swear

Height Difference OTP Prompts

-> feel free to edit and adjust pronouns as you see fit.

"I love you," she mumbled, turning her head in embarrassment. "What did you say?" He teased, poking her. "I couldn't hear you from way up here." She huffed, looking up at him while a blush spread across her cheeks. "I said, I love you, you giant idiot."

"Can I borrow your shirt?" She asked, holding it up. "Yeah," her girlfriend responded, "if you want to look like you're wearing a parachute."

"You know, I've always liked it when you're on your knees," They said teasingly, brushing his hair behind his ear. "Why?" He asked, lip quirking upwards. "So you can finally look me in the eyes?"

She planted a soft kiss to the top of their head. "You can kiss me on the lips like a normal person, you know," they told her, raising an eyebrow. She shrugged. "It takes so much effort to bend over."

"You give the best hugs, I swear."

"You might have fourteen inches on me, but that does not mean I won't still kick your ass."

"You're acting like a child." "Well, at least I don't look like one."

"If you don't stop hiding the cookies on the top shelf I'm coming after your kneecaps."

"Lean over." "Why?" "Lean over." "For what?" "So I can kiss you!"

If you like what I do and want to support me, please consider donating! I also offer editing services and other writing advice on my Ko-fi!

[stuckinapril]

I genuinely love not having a crush like I’m not over here feeling physically sick over some mid guy being dry to me I’m literally chilling

[ravensmadreads]

Unhinged totally unasked for thots about Riding Pedro Boys

Authors Note: So this came from me chugging entirely too many energy drinks and then projectile vomiting in Taylors inbox. I'd like to warn you that: English isn't my first language, I have never written smut before, I'm not a real writer, and also I'm trash goblin levels of unhinged about this. That being said; Enjoy and uhh. Forgive me Fandom

JAVIER PEÑA

Javier Pena doesn't let you do it.

Don't @ me LISTEN! (YES I STARTED OFF WITH A CONTROVERSIAL THOT FUCKING BITE ME.)

That man does not have the time, or the patience, or the good sense (the sense is at the other end) to let you ride. He needs the control okay? And sometimes it's not even about the control ! It's the frustration. It piles and piles and piles until he snaps. He needs to do. He will bend you over and work his frustration away until he has had enough and you let him because he needs it. (And lets be real he makes it worth your while every single time)

BUT. When he finally fucking retires, and gets a ranch, and breaths air not tinged with the smells of death, cigarettes and guns for the first time in however many years, and maybe drinks some fucking water, he takes you out on a date. He fumbles through the entire thing, panics because he thinks he blew it, still manages to get you home, gets ridden for the first time in like 6 years, and can't walk straight for an entire day and stammers every time someone asks him why.

JAVIER GUTIERREZ

Javi G loves it. He loves watching you. Gets all puppy dog wide eyed (remember the pool scene face??? Thats it.) and you have to really focus because his look of straight up wonder and awe and bright eyed eagerness makes you want to cry. He's panting like he's running a marathon, running his big hands EVERYWHERE he can reach. He makes you feel worshipped and adored and so very very loved. Thanks you after. For being so amazing, and so wonderful to him, and thanks the universe that he found you. Cause he's sap. You definitely cry after.

JOEL MILLER

(Watch me be controversial again) Joel is fucking tired okay? He has old man bones and creaky joints and his back is achy. Patrol was agony, Jesse wouldn't shut up the entire time, and Tommy was giving him shit, and he has no energy to drill anyone into the mattress (as much as we all want him to). He's just plain tired. He likes you on top. Likes it slow (like a roast chicken on a sunday slow). Enjoys the gradual build up, likes to lean back, watch with half open eyes as you take your time. Wants to indulge in something beautiful at the end of the world, and that something is you. He makes sexy grunting noises, mutters a whole lot of praise ~and filth~ and just y'know. Savours it. 🫠🫠🫠 savours you. 🫠

DIETER BRAVO

Dieter is a maniac. (Leave him alone he has adhd!!) He can't still still for the life of him so you best believe he changes positions 6 times and the only way you're getting to ride is if you're also putting some weight elsewhere. To hold him down! You squeeze his neck once and he MELTS. INSTANTLY. Loses all sense. Starts babbling and whimpering and making extremely pathetic noises. Will definitely buck up and whine. PRAISES YOU. BEGGING. LOUD NOISES.

MAX PHILLIPS

Max is a heathen. He just likes watching you bounce. That's it. That's the post :p

MARCUS PIKE

Marcus P is a romantic. He will be doing the whole "lean forward and try to get kisses in between" while also "moaning and maintaining eye contact" and he's holding you so tight , squeezing your sides and also muttering declarations of love. About how he wants a life with you, and a family, and a home, and a future. How he's going to "make you so happy baby, I promise I will, I swear to you". Doesn't let you off for from on top of him for atleast a half hour after; kissing all over your face and rubbing your back and petting your hair "I meant all of it sweetheart. I want all of you." shsbzgwgsvsg ilovehimsomuch and I've only ever seen gifsets of this man what is wrong with me

MARCUS MORENO

Marcus M is A MENACE. He wears his stupid glasses, and has his stupid shirt off, while he does stupid taxes/meeting plans in bed. You keep throwing side glances and getting increasingly wound up and he just has this gentle smirk but he's mostly ignoring you. You sidle up to him and maybe start kissing his jaw, laying gentle pecks down his neck, and he's still fukcungh working "Baby. I need to finish this. I'm sorry, you need to wait." But that smirk is still there and it's driving you crazy and maybe you keep kissing until you reach his *coughs* and then you're working on getting him interested. You can still hear the fucking pen scratching though and so you go deeper, and he raises an eyebrow. "be good now honey" You're settling in his lap and he has you sitting there until he has finished his paperwork with you whimpering and trying not to squirm because you want to be good you really do and you know he'll make it so much better but he feels so good and when he's finally finally done you get to move but you're so wound up you can't pull yourself together enough to find a rhythm and you're nearly in tears and he has to grip your sides and murmur instructions in your ear and help you until you're satisfied and just when you think he's done, and about to flip you over, he adjusts his grip and starts moving from underneath you until you're crying and he's finished ~which doesnt happen until you've come 2 more times~

DAVE YORK

Dave. Oh my gosh Dave. Dave is a strict dom if ever there was one. With him it's a punishment. He'll tell you to hold off until he's done which is freaking impossible with how deep he gets, and how he likes to warm up his hands on your butt while you're trying desperately to hold onto that last thread of control. He is muttering absolute filth, holding your arms behind your back with one hand while the other is either laying smack after smack or rubbing you furiously all the while he's got the smuggest look. "Don't you dare baby. Be a good girl now. Listen and obey for once". But you can't because he's not fair and he knows it. And when you do finally fall apart he's clenching his teeth trying to hold back himself and his hands are holding you up as you gasp his name like it's the only word you know. He's running his hands down your back and kissing you softly and helping you catch your breath and when you finally get your heart to stop pounding and look up at him, he's watching you with this dangerously soft smile and he goes "oh you're in for it now aren't you honey?" and kisses your forehead while you try not to whimper.

FRANKIE MORALES

Frankie is a soft boy. He loves it. Craves it. He loves giving up control. Wants you to tie him up and have your way until he has no thoughts left in that pretty little head. He is swearing like an absolute sailor the entire time, calling you ma'am, begging to be released so he can kiss you and touch you, absolutely nearly breaks the head board once he was so desperate. Wants to be edged but also is the biggest WIMP about it. Will pout and swear and beg and plead but then want you to deny him again. Will definitely be mumbling absolute nonsense once you're done. Needs all the aftercare. Blushes pink when he gets it. Wraps himself around you like a HUGE koala bear after. ~and returns the edging favour 3 times over when he gets in his Captain Francisco Morales Mood~

JACK DANIELS

BONUS TWO I KNOW NOTHING ABOUT and tumblr won't let me put gifs for:

Jack makes every single cowboy joke known to man. You have to put your hand on his mouth to get him to shut the hell up. His eyes get all glassy when you do. He puts his hat on top of your head and busies himself in your neck (dual benefits: A. He shuts up and B. HICKIES) will definitely drag you on top of him in his Bronco (he likes to show off) will pull up on the side of the road almost 70% of the times you drive together. Bites you over your clothes. Loves the way you grab desperately at this leather jacket. Definitely makes you bend over and 'clean up the mess sugar' before driving like the hounds of hell are after him all the way back home and doing it all over again because "we gotta make you a mama now love"

PERO TOVAR

Pero got married after he came back and retired as a sell sword. His wife is a soft but sassy thing who's a little (read: not at all, she returns his snark twice over) intimidated by him but also thinks he's a good man because he saved her village from raiders. She has seen him grumble and snark at but then also share his food with the orphans who works at the village inn. She's inexperienced (let me live my victorian life) and he doesn't really think he deserves her but also he's not so much an idiot to say no to someone like her. She's the village "healer" and he met her when he got stabbed by one of the raiders (arm wound: not serious.) He has to teach her. She gets shy and flustered, which is a total 180 from her sassy self, and Pero loves it. She makes the most amazing sounds that have him thinking that maybe he did something right in his life to end up in her arms. She wants to please her new husband and asks her married friends for advice and they tell her about this new position. So she asks him, stuttering and tripping over words, if she could try something she heard about? From a friend? She straddles him and Pero loses his mind. He's closing his eyes and clenching his jaw so hard and she's whimpering in the most DELICIOUS way and he's trying so hard to hold back and let her take her pace and she's so worried "am I not doing it right?" Pero has to take 3 deep breaths before he's centred enough to answer and then he helps her. Puts his hands on her hips to guide her. Puts one of her hands on his shoulder "steady now pequenita" and puts the other low on her belly and presses in so she can feel him. Loves the way she cries out. Bends forward to leave little marks everywhere he can reach. She's scrambling at his chest, leaving nail marks he loves, and finally grabbing his hair and pulling until he groans. And when they're both done and sated and sweaty he kisses her, looks her in the eye and winks. "I'm going to have to go thank your friend now, mi esposa."

DIN DJARIN

Din and you dont have time. The razor crest is finally in hyperspace, you got shot at for the 50th time in 2 weeks, (because Murphys Law seems to be the only law Mando never breaks), you're exhausted, sweaty, and the giggly green monster of chaos only made you chase him down from the top of a weapons cabinet twice before he finally decided to take a nap. You're frustrated, and in desperate need of a shower, and a nap, but also you can't get the image of Mando fighting out of your head. Before you know it, the hormones have taken over and you're attacking him in the pilot seat. The bucket is off (I refuse to look at my own reflection in the tin cans helmet while we do the do), he's got you arching into him, your shirt is half torn from the top because Din refuses to wait for "so many fucking buttons Meshla" the gloved hand is squeezing the back of your neck, his mouth is on your chest, his other hand (you only managed to get one glove off) is splayed out on your back. You're riding him like you're trying to break him and his thigh holster? thing (do i look like i can figure out what they're called?) is digging marks into your skin but you're too turned on to care. It's frantic, it's messy, you're PRAYING the tiny green menace stays asleep as you do your best to muffle your sounds. The refresher isn't big enough for a round two, (you still do your best), and your legs feel like jelly, when you finally pass out; curled up on top of the human space heater while he hums Mando'a in your ear.

*****

TAGGING: @chronically-ghosted (you are a menace but ily)

@fuckyeahdindjarin (here I go trying that writing thing again, stop me pls)

[tartagliove]

Thinking about fox shifter!Childe who loves to chase bunny shifter!Reader. He chased you when he first met you, fox paws pinning you down in your squirming rabbit form, until you wore yourself out and he took you home with him. But after he knows you, he still loves the chase.

The tinge of instinctual fear intermingled with nervous thrill in your scent makes his blood pump. His fox ears are out, tail streaming behind him as he chases after you, following the noises you make as you bound and leap through the forest, trying to stretch out the distance between you and him.

You’re fast, but Childe has trained tirelessly over the years to hone his senses and master his body—both human and fox form, and the in-betweens. So he gains on you, your scent growing stronger to the point he can almost taste it.

He can tell you’re tiring.

Once he closes the distance and catches you, hands wrapping around your waist and spinning you around, he pushes you up against a tree. Before you can get a word out, he tears through the sleeve of your shirt with sharp claws, his fox features still present with the adrenaline running through his veins. Your noise of surprise is ignored. He swipes his tongue along your neck, savoring the taste of your skin: slightly salty from running, but your sweet scent is so strong here. Childe can hear your blood pumping, see your pulse fluttering, and he can’t help himself.

He bites.

Sinks his teeth into your skin, where your neck curves into your shoulder. You whine in shock at the sting of pain, but a shiver runs down your spine. His canines are sharper than a normal human’s, but he takes care to not break skin—this time.

He pulls back slowly when you thump your fist into his chest.

“Get off! Why did you have to go and tear my top?”

Childe runs his tongue over his teeth. He can taste you on his tongue, in his mouth, and he grins. “You ran from me.”

Your fingers brush over his bite mark. “I thought that was the whole point of what we planned,” you complain. “Why am I getting punished for it?”

“That’s not a punishment,” he says, blue eyes darkening. “It’s a reminder that I’ll always catch you, no matter how far you run.” He’ll be satisfied with the possessive mark left on your neck for now. It will fade in a few days, but that will be the perfect excuse for him to chase you again.

[zorosdimples]

thank you pasi @nkogneatho, jes @jeschalynn, and melk @papersirens for making me insane!

middle-aged toji who’s not as trim as he was in his twenties.

he’s as broad and strong as ever, and all his muscle is still there—it’s just nestled under fat that comes with a life well-lived. he complains about his back and knees, but only when it suits him; aches and pains never stop him from throwing you over his shoulder like you weigh nothing (he swears you’re as light as a feather, and you have half a mind to believe him).

he has learned to embrace the black hair that adorns his body, no longer feeling like he has to be hairless to show off his physique. why would he ever shave again when you lick his happy trail with the upmost reverence? when you twirl your fingers in his chest hair and nuzzle against the stubble on his jawline?

he would be lying if he said he didn’t get self-conscious from time to time. but the way you pounce on him when he’s in his usual fitted black shirt and sweatpants makes it painfully clear: no matter what his body looks like as he ages, you’ll love every part of him all the same.

[a-ikuoliver]

HELLO LOVER

for your wittle event i am asking for hanky panky with… shinsou 😔 (also i love u bye)

HELLO LOVER!!!!!! thank u so much and im so so so sorry, i wrote this with my dick i can't even lie i don't remember half of this tw: toxic relationship + fingering (f!receiving) birthday bash intro + rules + menu | event masterlist

fuck. fuck. fuck. “fuuuck,”

you ignore his chuckle when he shushes you, pressing a chaste kiss to the red mark at the side of your throat, his tongue already gliding over your skin before you can even fumble with the lock on the cubicle door. desperately, you clutch at his shoulders, blunt nails bruising the skin beneath his dark shirt when he nipped beneath your jaw again, sucking at the skin beneath your ear just to hear you suck in a hiss, revelling in how it hadn’t changed; he could still drive you crazy, could still cloud your mind with a single well-placed kiss.

fuck. you’d been so good; his number was blocked, you finally deleted that burner account you used to stalk his socials two months ago, you avoided the smoke shop on the corner near your place even though they had the cutest lighters and trinkets, you dyed your hair without worrying what he’d think about it. all of that, and still you end up here.

your lips are already swollen, tender from being sucked and bitten, shinso pulling you into the bathroom before it had even been an hour since you arrived, the taste of your cocktail still on your lips when he first kissed you. dizzy, you tug at his hips, breaking the kiss to breathlessly murmur his name, your heart jumping at the taste of it on your tongue after so long.

“shh, baby, i know,” his voice is so low and so gravelly when he whispers, his warm breath against your neck sending a shiver down your spine. you’re sure you’re soaking when he pops the button of your pants, sliding his hand down your abdomen into your underwear. he shudders feeling your soft skin, taking his time to drive you insane with his slow, electric touches to your drooling cunt; every touch deliberate, avoiding where you needed him until your hips were jolting, searching for him, until it was no argument how much you needed him.

his dark eyes sent a shock of lightning into your stomach when you finally felt the tip of his fingers at your clit, your body jumping into his touch the more he teased you. always obsessed with this push and pull, he wanted you to seek his touch, his body heat, his approval, he wanted you to seek him. if your eyes weren’t squeezed shut, you’d see the way his violet eyes glimmered watching your hips chase him.

you never should have tried to avoid him; you should’ve religiously checked his posts, zooming into every detail of the picture he posted smoking in the alleyway behind the bar, you’d have seen the logo printed on his chest if you had just stalked him. you’d know he dyed his hair darker (the exact deep indigo shade you loved on him), you’d know he changed his labret to a silver ring instead of the spiked post, you would’ve known how fucking good he looked. you would’ve touched yourself looking at the pictures of him instead of this, cum on your fingers again and again until it felt as good as he did.

you could have avoided this if you didn’t try to avoid him. if you hadn’t been so good.

you can’t help the whine that leaves you when he finally gives in, sinking his fingers into your needy cunt, infuriatingly slowly, like he’s savouring the way you pulse at every knuckle. shinso’s amethyst eyes are glued to your bitten lips, admiring the way your features changes when you grind your hips into his hand, how needy you look before he’s even moved. he’s still staring at you when he curls his fingers, dragging two fingers inside you just enough to have your jaw falling slack, to get your chest heaving, to get your cunt clenching around him like it always did; to make sure nothing had changed.

“god, i missed you,” you respond with a garbled version of his name, more of a broken moan than anything, unable to spit out anything else when he started fucking you with his fingers, pressing every button he knew would wind you up, working you closer to cumming before his break was over. he knew he could, he knew you inside and out, hatred or not, he could unravel you.

“you missed me, hm?” he nudges your jaw with his nose, smiling against your skin when your eyelashes flutter against your cheek, your breath catching in your throat, “i know your pussy did.”

i hate you, i hate you, i hate you, i hate you, every time your lips part to tell him as much, you can only moan instead, spouting gratitude, begging him not to stop, your anger from every argument melting from you the more your cunt drooled, the resentment deep inside you from every argument, every break up, swirling into something else the longer he fucked his fingers into you. did they even really matter when he had your cunt pulsing? when he could make you cum with one swipe of his thumb over your clit if he wanted to. he could probably make you squirt if you weren’t cramped in this cubicle with him. he decides he will when you come home with him, decides he’s going to taste you before the inevitable argument in the morning.

“fuck, you’re so hot when you act like you don’t need me.”

you can’t entirely tell if he’s being condescending, or if he wholeheartedly thinks every break up was foreplay. if he really thought you didn’t hate him for everything he did. for everything he didn’t do. for it always ending up like this. for every single ‘never again’.

“‘s always better when you’ve been avoiding me,” you still come undone, sticky cum coating his fingers when he talks down to you, that fucking face staring back at you when you meet his eyes again.

“but you always come back, don’t you?”

[jeanboyjean]

I THOUGHT OF ANOTHER ONE👀👀👀

What do you think jean’s reaction would be if he likes you but yall aren’t together, and he catches you staring at one of the other guys after a workout, or something like that (I just know he’d be so dramatic lmao) feel free to pick one person, give a general reaction or a list, whichever you want, no pressure 🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰

asjkjskj OKAY so i just started writing and this is what i blurted out akjsdfnsd he is actually so dramatic i love it when he’s a little pathetic like let me love you u silly man. this became 500 words HAHA

Jean knows.

He’s an idiot but he knows he shouldn’t be jealous. In fact, he has no right to feel anything at all. He shouldn’t even be looking to be honest. And yet, he can’t help it. Not when his world slows to a stop, walls caving in, vision tunnelling to zero in on you every time you’re in the same room together.

His grip tightens on the dumbbells he’s holding, knuckles white, teeth clenched. The sound of his blood pumping roars in his ears, silencing the music blaring in his earphones. 

Why the fuck are you staring at him? 

There you are, sitting on a bench across the gym in your cute little workout outfit and instead of looking at Jean, your eyes are locked on his friend in front of you. Reiner’s deep in a squat, with at least three plates on each side like the miserable show off he is. You must be between sets, with your water bottle in hand, but your gaze is fixed on his form as he grunts out another rep.

Honestly, Jean can’t even blame you when Reiner’s out there throwing around weights like it’s nothing. If he was attracted to men, he would probably be checking him out, too.

Jean huffs in annoyance. He looks down at his arms and flexes his triceps. Sure, he may not be as beefy as Reiner, but he’s no slouch himself. Why is it that you never seem to notice?

Sometimes he’ll feel a glimmer of hope when you smile at him the way you do with that little twinkle in your eyes as if laughing at an inside joke only the two of you share; only to be shattered in a second when you turn that same look on someone else. There’s only so much more of this he can take before he feels like he’ll be about ready to burst. 

Jean knows he should just look away and focus on himself. But how can he when you’re right there, looking as perfect as ever despite being sweaty and messy from working out. Hell, it only makes him want you even more. He wishes it could be him making you sweat. You would never need to go to the gym with the way he knows he could work you out. If only he could just muster up the courage to tell you how he feels. All he wants is to just make you his. He swears he would do anything to give you everything. 

He’s burning holes into Reiner’s body with his eyes and the other man must be able to feel it because he halts, looking up into the mirror to make eye contact with Jean. Reiner double takes and racks his weights. Clearly confused, he slides his headphones off his ears and turns to face Jean with his eyebrows raised. The movement catches your attention and you stir from where you’re sitting on the bench across from him. 

Your eyes follow Reiner’s gaze to land on where Jean is standing, seething, still gripping the dumbbells like his life depends on it. And then, Jean’s heart stutters and the air leaves his lungs in a whoosh … because there it is. Your smile. You've got that smile lighting up your face and now all the tension is escaping his body, leaving him weak in the knees. What he wouldn’t give to have you look at him and only him that way. 

When you lift your hand up in a small wave, it's the nail in the coffin. That's it. He’s going to have to make you his now.

teehee! 

jean’s out here simmering thinking you’re staring at other guys … which true bc they’re also pretty hot … but in this instance you were actually zoning out and reiner just happened to be in front of you. 

i chose reiner #1 he’s gym dad #2 i can’t keep making every situation jean x reader x eren. 

[wrathofrats]

Mold me to another form, Press me till I'm raw and sore

Read here on on Ao3!

Happy mountain March have the virgin mountain fic I’ve been teasing for a second. @everybodyshusband COME GET UR FOOD BB

3.5k of pebble and ivy torturing mountain because he’s new and flustered and doesn’t know what he wants and the opportunity that presents itself is too good.

Warnings for voyerism/exhibitionism, some degrading, slight slight manipulation if you squint, little bit of pain but blink and you’ll miss it.

“Looks like we have an audience honey suckle”

Mountain can barely open his mouth to try and stammer out an apology before pebble keeps speaking. His hand moves faster where it’s still gripping ivy, forcing him further into the wood beneath him as he cries out.

“Come on Ivy, cum for him”

Or mountains a cute new summon and pebble and ivy can’t help but sexually frustrate him to no end.

It really wasn't mountains faults.

Pebble had told him to meet him in the greenhouse for a lesson. Enriching the soil or harvesting or something, he didn’t catch it. A quick note in between staring at Ivy who was wrapped around him in the common room. Honestly he barely mumbled out the time before Ivy was pulling his attention away once again.

He enjoys watching them, a mixture of jealousy and tantalization at seeing the two be so close and physical all the time. They brought a sense of loving comfort and a more sensual edge to them, at least to mountain, who was often at their heels learning his way around the abbey.

Mountain walks out into the garden to meet them, seeing no trace of the two. His eyes widened at the more than familiar sounds coming from the back corner where the greenhouse stood. Hushed whispers and moans that were unmistakable even to the new ghoul. The sounds grew louder as he walked closer, mountains feet moving completely on their own accord as if some weird part of his brain actually wanted to get a glimpse of them.

The door opens slowly, mountain internally cursing the old thing for being so rusted that he can barely get it unlatched without it telling on him. His hands shake as they grip the handle, the guilt and shame of trying to watch them making his breath hitch, but he can’t force himself to stop. The greenery covers him as he ducks to peek around the corner.

Pebble has Ivy bent over and pinned against a workbench. One claw digging deep into his hips and the other wrapped around the base of his cock.

“dont you fucking dare cum, be good and take it”

“pebble please I need it I-“

Mountains face flushes deep crimson at the sight of them. The waning sunlight reflects off of the tears slipping down ivy's face and the sound of him whimpering against the wood has mountain breathing heavily.

But pebble? The way pebble treats Ivy like he’s something to use makes mountain feel indescribable. He almost chokes when he hears how pebble speaks to him, at how pebble rakes his nails down his skin and smiles when ivy cries out in pain. It feels weird and his pants are too tight and he shouldn’t be watching this. He's dirty, perverted but it’s impossible to tear his eyes away from them.

A quiet, high pitched whine is ripped from his throat as he adjusts in the uncomfortable position he had settled in, hard and too worked up to think straight.

Suddenly pebbles head turns towards mountain.

“Looks like we have an audience honey suckle”

Mountain can barely open his mouth to try and stammer out an apology before pebble keeps speaking. His hand moves faster where it’s still gripping ivy, forcing him further into the wood beneath him as he cries out.

“Come on Ivy, cum for him” pebble yanks ivys head to the side by his hair to look at mountain. Pebbles hands are quick on Ivy’s cock and before he knows it ivys spilling all over pebbles fist with mountains name on his tongue.

It’s overwhelming, and mountains head clouds as he once again tries to apologize but pebble is too quick for him to react properly. Any thoughts being overpowered by the situation he’s found himself in. Guilt and arousal combined to subdue the regret in his throat almost completely.

Pebble gestures him over without a word, motioning for him to kneel on the grass in front of him. A hand brushes his lips before he realizes what pebble is telling him to do. He doesn’t feel in control of himself as his lips part, staring into pebbles eyes like he’s being controlled and pebble just slips his fingers into his mouth, wiping ivys release onto his tongue before placing his hand under his chin to close it.

“Good boy”

Through blurry vision mountain watches pebble hastily redress himself and ivy, hoisting him back onto shaky legs and giving him a once over accompanied by a sweet kiss. Pebbles attention turns back to mountain, also offering him a hand up and a pat on the cheek before walking out.

It seems like a game to pebble, a joke of some sorts that only really he is in on. The wicked smile as he caught mountain, then looking at him innocently like he hadn’t just made him lick someone else’s cum off his fingers. Mountain doesn’t know what to think.

A haze takes over him whenever he bumps into the two, the memory of the greenhouse incident being the only thing he can think about when he sees pebbles face. Innocent exchanges having mountain flustered and walking off to cool himself down even though nothing has happened.

The interactions don’t stay innocent however.

Mountain chalks it up to a wrong place, wrong time situation instead of anything more sinister. He can’t be blamed for freezing as he notices the lewd wet sounds coming from the living room. Especially since pebble just can’t keep his mouth shut.

Pebble sits on the couch with ivy nestled between his legs. Fingers tangled in his soft brown hair guiding his mouth up and down on his cock.

“What do you think mountain would think if he saw me use you like this sweet pea?” Pebble coos, a mocking smile to his voice that has Ivy whining, muffled and high in his throat. Mountain doesn’t know what to do with himself besides stand still and watch trying to hide himself behind the stair railing.

“Would he just think you’re a dumb whore? Maybe he’d want his own turn with you?” Ivys cheeks heat up more than they already had just thinking about it. Another soft, pathetic sound escapes his throat as pebble pulls hard on his hair, taking him off of his cock. Mountain can’t tear his eyes away, can’t retreat back up the stairs as he knows he should. He feels gross, like he shouldn’t be catching them, shouldn’t be thinking about them like this.

“Oh I know baby, maybe we can ask him” pebble smiles, talking just a bit too loud to be a coincidence.

It’s on purpose. Pebble is a fucking tease.

Every incident is set up just so mountain can catch them. Fucking ivy in plain sight where he knows mountain will be and honestly it’s just to see how much he can get away with. How far he can take his shenanigans before he breaks the innocent ghoul and forces him to use his words to tell them what he wants.

Ivy can’t act innocent either, absolutely involved in the game along with pebble. He plays himself up just to see mountains reaction. Moans when pebble mentions him knowing damn well he’s just around the corner. A bit of pity stays in the back of his mind, but the knowledge that mountain wants them so badly he barely knows what to do with himself is more than enticing to him. He craves the attention he gets from it, craves the fact that someone else needs him. Ivy especially loves how possessive pebble gets at knowing this too, that he needs to show Ivy off like some sort of trophy. So he continues to play along, presenting himself as a good little toy.

Mountain struggles. Hes jumpy, cautious when entering rooms like he might just walk right in on something he’s not meant to. Slow to come around corners and down the stairs, always listening a bit too intently. Pebble and ivy honestly find it cute how careful he appears to be, considering they know how much he likes stumbling upon them.

It doesn’t take much for mountain to break.

Walking in on them almost daily for a week has him about to fall to his knees and beg in front of pebble's door. Not even knowing what he’s asking for, just knowing he wants.

The last straw is walking in on the two again in the living room.

Once again slowly creeping down the stairs, listening intently for any signs he should instead abandon the idea and leave. He doesn’t hear it at first, assuming he’s safe until he’s too far into the room to back out.

Ivy sits on the couch with pebble settled between his legs this time. Both of his hands cover his face but mountain can tell how flushed he is. His breathing is ragged, heavy, as if he’s desperately trying to calm himself down and the smile on pebbles face tells mountain all he needs to know.

Something about Ivy’s cock twitching and leaking as pebble kisses at the head absolutely destroys him. Saliva pools in mountains mouth, and he can’t help but straight up gawk at the situation in front of him.

Hes been caught, he knows he has, but he can’t bring himself to care.

Pebble makes eye contact with him from the floor as he kitten licks ivys tip, curiously eyeing mountain as he lets a line of drool fall from his lips and down the shaft. It feels more like a command than just making him watch, the way his eyes shift as if he is beckoning mountain over to him.

He goes anyways, even if he isn’t sure. They’ve been teasing him for so long he can’t bring himself to believe it’s not on purpose anymore. The upwards curve of pebbles lips confirm his thoughts as he nods downward, motioning mountain to kneel beside him.

“Come on, you know what to do big guy”

Mountain looks back at him with something that can only be described as panic. He looks like a deer in head lights with his fingers digging into his knees

“I- I wouldn’t wanna intrude” he attempts to stammer out, looking for any excuse that doesn’t make him sound entirely incompetent.

“You aren’t, look at the poor thing, he’s been wanting your mouth for a while big guy” pebble smiles, with the tiniest bit of giddy to his voice knowing mountain has no clue what he’s doing. Practically taunting him.

Ivy can’t even look down at the two. He continues to hide his face with his hands, red and teary eyed and with how hard and angry his leaking cock looks, mountain can’t imagine how long pebbles been edging him, just waiting for him to show up.

“Just think you’d be better at it” mountain whispers

“Oh do you? Never done this before maple leaf?”

“No i-“ mountain starts, the blatant lie dying in his throat.

“Did you hear that sweet pea, you get to be mountains first” pebble smiles, claws gripping ivys thighs to get his attention. “Aren’t you honored to be able to be the first to fuck his sweet mouth?”

Ivy barely responds with something akin to whimper as pebble scratches him harder, his cock twitching once again at the pain.

“Just watch”

Pebble grips ivy at his base, giving him a good slow lick from root to tip before taking the head in his mouth. Ivy can’t help but give a pained whine when pebble pulls off once again with a little pop, lips pink and a little swollen from teasing Ivy for who knows how long.

There’s a tug at mountains shirt, pebble pulling him to be between ivys legs instead.

“Show me what you learned, cmon”

It’s so clumsy, mountain loosely grips Ivy in fist as if he’s scared to hurt him. He takes a second to look up, before thumbing over his tip as he watches more pre drip down the head, running down his shaft. He feels mesmerized, watching in awe while Ivy reacts to his every touch.

Mountain chases it with his tongue, licks a thick stripe up ivys shaft to catch it and ivy can’t help but almost buck into his mouth at the sensation.

“Don’t be greedy” pebble snaps at the earth ghoul above them “I’ve taught you better manners than that”

Ivy somehow goes more red than he was, mumbling out an apology behind his hands.

Mountain doesn’t even process most of the conversation, much too caught up in ivys taste. Something between tree sap and honey with his own musk mixed in. He can feel the pulse in his dick, the way it throbs in his hand and the entire situation in front of him is the only thing mountain can really focus on.

Pebble places a loving hand in his hair to attempt to coax him back to earth. His thumb strokes his scalp while mountain just stares at Ivy’s dick. Cleaning him delicately with his tongue as if he’s savoring the taste. Pebble pushes down on his head slightly to find it's much too easy to guide mountains mouth down, using barely any force to coax Ivy’s cock down his throat.

“Just keep those pretty lips open, relax”

Mountain gags a little, making pebble ease the pressure on his scalp off.

“Just breathe through your nose, relax, you’re ok” pebble tells him, voice softer than mountains ever heard it and honestly the kindness makes his vision blur. A complete whiplash to the usual harsher, more sarcastic tone he has.

Ivy isn’t very big, a decent couple inches, not very thick around but mountain struggles anyways. He tries hard, really gives it his best, letting pebble pull him up and down. His eyes water as he tries to force himself to relax. It feels weird, not bad, but it’s different. There comes a point where he’s practically bobbing on his own, pebble barely using any pressure anymore and mountain truly seems in a trance, almost cock drunk just off of only sucking on ivy for a couple minutes.

Pebbles other hand holds Ivy tightly at his base to prevent him from cumming embarrassingly early. Being edged for god knows how long combined with the sight of pebble practically teaching mountain how to use him, it’s just too much for ivy, and pebble absolutely knows that.

It’s a weird power trip for mountain to watch Ivy squirm above him, knowing he’s completely out of his mind with need just from his mouth. The sight of him desperate and practically ruined only fueling mountain to keep going as long as pebble lets him. Ivy’s hips buck as his legs shake, no doubt getting too close for pebble to be able to stop him anymore.

Pebble pulls mountain off just as Ivy is about to tip over the edge, quickly hooking a finger into his mouth to force it open. The other hand strokes Ivy, working him through his orgasm as he releases onto mountains face. He hungrily laps at what little bit got onto his lips and tongue. A dazed, static feeling settles into his brain and he can’t bring himself to close his mouth again. Hot and flushed, panting as ivys cum still sits warm on his skin. Mountain looks completely ruined, and pebble can’t help but feel proud of the two, if not jealous.

The sight of mountain completely ruined after just using his mouth is more than pebble thinks he can take. Honestly he can’t help himself. Thinking of the sounds he made with Ivy’s dick in his mouth, the look of submission in his eyes while pebble manhandled him into doing what he wanted, it’s too much for him to not need to get his hands on mountain himself.

He finds him in the greenhouse a couple days later. Leaned forward against the workbench mixing soils. There’s a tense smile as pebble walks in, mountain clearly being wary of the situation but knows what’s probably about to transpire anyways. He turns and backs up without being made to, giving easy access for pebble to drop to his knees in front of him.

There’s a struggle with mountains belt, pebbles shaky hands clumsily undoing the metal, an uncharacteristic nervousness about him as he works. He fumbles with the zipper, tugging at his jeans and boxers until he can pull mountain out fully.

Pebbles mouth waters. He almost moans when he finally sees mountains cock in front of him. He’s much bigger than he imagined, his hand barely wraps around the base and pebble curses under his breath. Mountain can’t help but feel a pang of pride at the way pebble acts so flustered at seeing his size.

His tongue darts out to kitten lick at the head, making mountain lean back to grip the workbench and push his hips forward slightly in hopes pebble will just swallow him down instead of playing his usual games.

A line of spit falls from pebbles lips and runs down his shaft. He makes a display of himself, mouth wide as he continues to tease, looking up at mountain through his eyelashes. He swirls his tongue around the head, before licking a fat line from his base, catching the small amount of pre that’s already started to form. He continues to tease until mountain is gripping the bench behind him so hard he’s sure there will be nail indents in the wood when he’s finished, cock angry and red and borderline painfully hard.

Swallowing him down is much more difficult than he thought, jaw aching at the size but pebble craves to feel him down his throat, stretching his mouth wide and making him gag. Mountain can barely bring himself to look down at the ghoul below him. It’s the first time he’s realized how much smaller pebble is than him, watching that hot, tight little mouth wrap around him and pebble can barely fit half of his cock down his throat before he’s gagging.

It’s hard for pebble not to feel smug. Getting him worked up and desperate, being the first to have his mouth on him. The sore throat the next day will only be a trophy for that testimony, a badge of honor. He wants to stay there, tease him for hours until mountain has tears in those big brown eyes but he just needs to feel him cum down his throat. Hes quick, sloppy, doesn’t want to take his time anymore, just wants to hear what mountain sounds like when he comes apart. Saliva runs down his chin as mountains hips move on their own, fucking up into pebbles mouth and in any other situation he’d chastise him but he can’t bring himself to care. It's easier than he thought, mountain attempting to choke out a warning only a couple minutes in but there’s barely an intelligible word before he’s shooting down pebbles throat.

Pebble pulls off with a pop, muttering a couple praises before smiling and leaving as if nothing happened.

He needs to tell Ivy, craves to be able to see the look on his face when describes how big he is, what he sounds like, what he tastes like, practically bragging about being able to get him like that.

He waits until he’s got Ivy pressed against the mattress, hands on his hips with his lips close to his ear

“Fucking massive, he would probably just split you in two if I ever met him get his hands on you honey suckle” pebble whispers, thrusting hard and fast while Ivy chokes on his own moans at what pebbles telling him.

“Probably would break my pretty toy, don’t know if I’d be able to let him have you doll”

Pebble can feel Ivy go tight around him, eyes crossing at the idea as pebble fucks him. The mixture of the way pebble rails him into the bed and the idea of mountain being so big he could break him, has ivy drooling, brain short circuiting before he’s almost begging for it. He simply needs to witness it for himself.

“Barely could get my hand around him, only god half of him in my mouth before I started gagging” pebble chuckles, “god should’ve heard him when he came down my throat, would’ve recorded it if I want so selfish”

Ivy tries not to moan, focuses on not saying mountains name and pebble can tell he’s struggling to control himself

“Cmon honeysuckle, know you want to say his name, cry out for him doll and maybe I’ll let him have you” he taunts

Ivy continues to stay silent besides the small noises forced from him as pebble uses him.

“Tell me what you want baby, go on”

Ivy fights himself to say it because he can’t imagine being allowed to be desperate for someone else let alone cry out their name while pebble has his cock in him. A hand grips his hair, pulling his head back.

“Say it”

“Fuck- need mountain to break me, need him to use me and fuck me open, need him to fucking split me in two pebble please-“

The embarrassment in ivys voice is reward enough for pebble, laughing at how shaky he is before releasing the grip on his scalp.

“Gonna cum for him? Make a mess thinking about how he would fucking ruin you?”

[fractiousmink]

141 + “training” (NSFW)(femreader)

(Ref objection insertion, fisting, anal, choking, and dubcon)

Price-pussy

Rough fingers running along your pussy lips. Fingering you forever before he ever fucks you. And when you’re loose and happy and wet he returns with callused fingers and rough knuckles pushing and testing against your taught hole. He wants you to take whatever he offers, much like Ghost. Loves to see you stretched around toys, bottles, his fist. “There’s a good doll, taking it all. How’s that stretch love?”

Gaz-anal

I don’t know who first decided Gaz is an ass man but they were so right. Master of the low and slow strategy. Starts with just his thumb, rubbing smooth circles when he’s fucking you from behind. Always sneaks a finger down when he’s eating you out. Soon you’re not able to come without something in your ass, his fingers or a pretty plug he bought you. It’s only a matter of time before he’s fucking your ass almost daily. Loves to run his fingers along your poor neglected cunt, leaking a steady steam down onto his shaft. But you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Ghost-throat

It’s all about control for Ghost. And what better way to control you is from your throat. Hand around the back of your neck, the other fisted in your hair. Tight, slow but firm thrusts past the gag reflex he broke with his fingers and a dildo gag. It’s his favorite way to have you. On your knees, on your back with your head off the bed, under his desk. Sloppy and drooly, he knows your cunt is soaked and puffy, desperate. He loves to come down your throat, then make you rub your own clit while he stuffs thick fingers down your throat. Nothing gets him hard faster than offering up his fingers to your mouth and watching your lips open and pretty tongue roll out without a single thought. Likes to do it in public, show off how well trained he has you.

Soap-all/none

Let’s be honest with ourselves, Soap does not have the patience of the others. And he’s an entitled little shit. He’s using what he wants, when he wants, how he wants until “your needy little holes learn who they belong to, hen.”

[uhbasicallyjustmilex]

Title: The Tradition of You and Me

Pairing: Alex Turner/Miles Kane

Summary: One summer, Alex and Miles watch the Euro Cup together. It becomes something of a tradition. Tags: Fluff, Smut, Developing Relationship

⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹

so a couple of months ago @daddy-long-legssss made this post about miles and alex watching the euro cup together in miles's mr bridger designs and... well, this happened. it was meant to be a short drabble fic, but it's me, so naturally feelings got involved and it's now 4,000+ words 😅

i know it's been taking forever for me to post the next chapter of four walls (i'm so sorry, it really is SO nearly there, but it probably will still be about a week before it's actually ready for posting), so i thought i'd share this in the meantime! i hope you enjoy, if you feel like it then feedback would absolutely make my day 🥰

[lightasthesun]

Imagine surviving the war only to lose most of the people closest to you.

The Woman that once upon a time held your heart in her hands.

The Girl that you loved like a daughter and whose death would ultimately lead to you losing your only brother.

•

In this universe, the river of time flows differently. Each step, each choice, and each poignant moment in its stream drift slightly off course.

It starts like this:

When Ahsoka and Bo-Katan ask the Jedi Order for aid in freeing Mandalore from Darth Maul's grasp and finally putting an end to the former Sith's reign, Obi-Wan does not ignore their call for help. Satine's ghost still haunts his nightmares, and it's the look on her sister's face, along with the redheads snarling accusations and Ahsoka's distant demeanor, that cause his typically composed exterior to splinter.

Through the cracks in his shields, a presence slips in – wild and tumultuous, yet practically radiant in its brilliance.

Days, months, weeks and even years later Obi-Wan will wish he'd taken a little longer to cradle her presence close.

It ends like this:

Anakin with Windu on the Invisible Hand. A incapacitated Sith in custody and another, more vile, more cunning, more sinister, choosing the wrong moment to reveal himself. A twist of fate. A long lost friend showing signs of old loyalty. Lightning. Screams. Hurt and Betrayal. The Chosen One as he was meant to be without terrors of the night influencing his most damning decision. Red clashing with purple, with blue. Red, blue, purple, blue, red, purple— A head rolls. The cackling stops.

For a moment, Peace.

A bond, frail at the edges but oh so resilient, crafted amidst blaster fire and silly nicknames and bets made on the battlefield, breaks—

Anakin screams.

•

On Mandalore the last chess piece falls with a Padawans last sacrifice.

First, Maul taunts. Maul laughs. Maul feeds on rage, on grief and hurt and terror, terror, terror. He's stronger here. Less controlled too, but while his greed costs him his head, his strength costs Obi-Wan the centerpiece of his lineage.

Obi-Wan holds his daughter as she bleeds out in his arms. His shoulders shake but he does not cry. His eyes burn but he does not weep. His lips twitch but he does not sob. He holds Ahsoka much the same way he held Satine only months before.

“No, not you too.”

Something flickers inside his mind, once, twice. It grows ever dimmer and Ahsoka's grip on his shoulder, ever weaker. A feeble voice inside his mind, It's okay. It doesn't hurt. I'll be okay, Master.

But this time no reassurance, no hand to his cheek, no last confession, nothing, will temper the anger slowly rising in tandem with his grief. He needs a medic. He needs a medic, now. Where's —

Cody!

Obi-Wan doesn't like the expression on the face of his slowly approaching Commander. The furrow of his brow, the emotion in his eyes. He doesn't like that Cody has taken off his helmet and reaches out to hold Obi-Wan by his shoulder as if he knows Obi-Wan needs the physical support, as if Ahsoka is going to —

“Master—”

Obi-Wan turns his eyes back on his Grandpadawan. Hers are barely open, her lips smeared with blood. Obi-Wans eyes catch on the red trailing down her chin and the length of her throat.

Ahsoka catches his eyes and smiles. She tugs on their bond the way she had always done before a battle, up until her last assignment on Caito Neimodia.

She tugs once, twice, three times. His heart squeezes painfully in his chest. He tugs back three times.

He does cry then. For the life she will never have. For the peace she will never experience. For the war she fought and whose final victory she will never reap. For the girl he learned to love as his own.

And even in her last moment, even in pain, even after Hurt and Miscommunication, and Betrayal born out of insecurity and misjudgment, she still worries for others first. For him.

You're safe. You're all sa—

He shushes her. Tired amusement tingles across their bond.

Then,

Inhale. Exhale. Inhale.

You are forgiven, Obi-Wan.

Exhale. The light winks out and as their bond shatters his last remaining one pulls tight with white hot agony.

Cody is all that keeps Obi-Wan upright right then and there.

•

The war is over. They won. So many dead. His lineage torn asunder.

Ahsoka is dead. Anakin won't speak to him. Qui-Gon is dead. Dooku is imprisoned.

Here the river of time finds a stream parallel to the one we know.

Obi-Wan and Yoda at the end of things.

[angelsdean]

In the end, the descent into Hell is easy. 

The stairway to Heaven had crumbled. The pearly gates were closed. Sam’s fervent prayers fell on absent ears. 

He was fresh out of cosmic beings to leverage for favors. Well, except…. 

It was strange how easy it had become to traverse the realms of the afterlife. Before, a ticket to Hell would cost you your soul, or a nasty encounter with a Hellhound. Now, a simple spell would do. Day trip to Hell, who would’ve thought? 

Down, down, down he goes into the muggy depths of the Inferno. Into the first chamber. Then advancing through long, winding corridors. He encounters no one. Strange. Finally, he arrives at the heavy doors to the throne room. They open before him, a chest cavity expanding, and there in the center sits Rowena in red, the bloody heart of it all. 

“Samuel.” Her shrewd eyes rake over him. She doesn’t look at all surprised to see him. 

“I take it you were expecting me.” 

“I sensed you the moment you stepped through the portal. Being non-corporeal gives one a certain omniscience. Little happens within these walls that I don’ know about, my dear.” 

Sam internally shudders at the word omniscient, thinking of Chuck and the maddening uncertainty he brewed in them when he claimed such powers. 

“What brings you here?”

The question draws Sam back to the present. Right. Rowena may be able to see all within her tiny kingdom of Hell, she's in the dark about all that has transpired on Earth since Sam’s last visit. The truth of it, the words he must say next, stick in his throat. He can’t—He hasn’t said any of this out loud. Hasn’t spoken to anyone in the weeks since everything happened. These were the facts: 

They defeated Chuck. 

Jack then vanished. 

And then Sam had to burn Dean. 

And before any of that, Cas had sacrificed himself in a move that Sam still did not fully understand. Dean had been sparse on the details. And now he couldn’t ask him at all. Because Dean was—He—

“Dean died.” 

His voice warbles around the words. They don’t sit right in his mouth. He shouldn’t be saying them. 

“Oh, Samuel.” Rowena appears before him in a blink, a hand pressing to his cheek. 

“They’re all—they’re gone. Dean. Cas. Jack.” Tears spring forth. He hasn’t cried either. He hasn’t let himself. But now, with Rowena opening her arms to him, he sinks down, down, down till they are both on the stone floor, Sam cradled in Rowena’s embrace as he sobs. “They’re dead and I have no one left. Nothing. They’re just all gone!” 

Fingers comb through Sam’s hair in a soothing shush. “There, there. Shh. I’ve got you.” Then, more forcefully, tipping his chin up to lock eyes, “I’ve got you.”

Samwena ficlet be upon thee! inspired by ruminations on this post

[circeletters]

aventio school au variations bc i'm bored:

popular!ratio bc he's pretty versus nerd!aventurine because he obviously has to have good grades, rivals to lovers but it's just aventurine trying to ignore how beautiful ratio is during study sessions;

popular!aventurine bc of course he's charming and good at social politics versus nerd!ratio, classic that never gets old it's the "please make me smarter while slowly we fall in love" clichê;

chess players au where they're from different schools and meet only on championships, trying to outsmart each other bc who doesn't love flirting during a chess game;

fake dating promt where aventurine needs to be prom king and ratio is the only one popular enough to make him win;

ALSO

outcasts au where they're both nerd boyfailures...

[3-aem]

MY BRAINS NOT WORKING AND THE CUTE BOY I WORK WITH KEEPS CORRECTING MY GRAMMAR THIS IS SO AHAIWIAKSDHDGRRRRHRNE