#it’s always a fucking mess and no one cares

[nosferatuv]

_ FREEUSEMADDIE

no reader!! domcaitlyn switchvi submaddie. body hair. power dynamic. size kink. anal if u squint. tribbing. fingering. caitvi bickering hehe

caitlyn needed a fucking break. she clicked her pen in thought before pushing herself up and storming out of her office into the deputy break room.

maddie sat, meek as ever, on one of the couches sipping on her drink. it was almost comical how quickly she stood up at the sight of caitlyn's tall figure in the doorway.

she knows the drill; scrambling behind the sheriff as she strides back down the hallway to her office. maddie's akin to a needy puppy, willing to do anything for attention. she knows her place well by now, knows what her purpose is to both caitlyn and vi.

she stands, smoothing out her uniform as caitlyn sits down in her desk chair with a sigh. her bright eyes scan over maddie as she waits patiently for her orders

caitlyn shifts on her chair, her thighs widening and her fingers tapping against her leg.

the ginger scrambles to her knees, crawling over to her boss and taking up the space between her boots. if she had a tail, it would be for sure wagging behind her just for being silently demanded around like a dog.

"stop dawdling, i didn't bring you in here to stare at me."

meanwhile, vi was storming along the streets of topside. she's still not very... accustomed to the life here, the luxury and riches weren't changing her tune, that's for sure. not that she, nor caitlyn, expected that to be the case.

she still got looked at as she passed, kids staring in bewilderment at her tattoos and piercings, prissy adults giving disapproving looks— she dressed a little nicer now, but you can never take the undercity out of the girl.

you also, it turns out, couldn't leave her alone for too long. with both caitlyn and maddie working at the station, they had free rein throughout the day. vi had to take a trip to get off, her hand just wasn't enough, not even the various toys caitlyn had collected did the job.

so, she proceeded to shove open the door to the piltover police station, various deputies looking up from their work at the zaunite storming the place like an bull, and then returning to their papers. she straightens herself up at the sudden awareness the silence and lack of reaction brings, reverting her thudding feet to a brisk walk in the direction of caitlyn's office.

she doesn't knock, of course, but nor caitlyn or maddie are startled. cait's always cool and collected, she knows damn well her officers will knock. and maddie's too focused trying to please her boss, her face buried between her legs and lapping desperately at caitlyn's cunt.

vi feels the throb in her brief's notch up, slamming her hand on the door to close it and taking a few steps closer to the scene.

caitlyn looks up at the basically seething firecracker with a raised eyebrow, her hand tugging maddie's hair to guide her to and from her clit and slit.

"can i help you?"

vi snarls and pulls maddie up from the floor, her burly arms around her waist. the girl was small and light enough to be ragged around, just how all three of them liked it. she was so easy to just... use.

caitlyn shakes her head, watching in both amusement and irritation as vi bends maddie (who's already stripped out of her uniform) over her desk, sending pens skittering across the wooden surface. "careful."

the pink haired girl would of either obeyed or made a snappy comment if she wasn't so focused on unbuckling her belt, shoving her pants down her legs and pulling maddie's hips closer.

"you know, if you had taken the badge when i offered it..."

"shut up," vi grumbles, tugging down the waistband of maddie's panties, sliding her rough hands up the backs of her thighs to the globes of her ass, spreading her open to admire the sticky mess caitlyn had melted her into.

caitlyn huffs, her legs still parted and the patch of dark blue hair on her mound glistening with maddie's slobber and her own arousal. "are you jealous?"

vi grits her teeth, shedding of her briefs and placing a large hand on the back of maddie's head, pressing the side of her flushed, freckled face into the desk as she whimpers. "i'm fucking mad,"

maddie draws in a breath as her legs are kicked apart, spread wide and vi's aching clit pushing between her folds. "that you," vi points a shaky finger at caitlyn before her hand comes down on maddie's asscheek to keep her spread open, starting to rut against her. "get her more than me."

caitlyn rolls her eyes, though the lewd acts being performed in front of her are a definite turn on, she was skilled at keeping her stone demeanour. "she works for me."

vi pants, her eyes glued to how maddie's hole leaks with arousal, clenching when their clits brush together occasionally. "yeah— yeah, i know.."

maddie whimpers and moans, taking what she's given and not asking for any more or any less, finding out the hard way that it was better to just enjoy what they were so generously giving her. her punishments were always so cruel, especially by caitlyn's hands— violet just ended up too horny.

caitlyn stands up, pulling her panties back up and cringing internally at the now cold arousal on the fabric sticking to her. of course, she would like to continue getting off, but she could never turn down voyeurism. she pushes herself up to sit on the desk, swatting vi's hand off maddie's head to replace it with her own.

vi, now having both hands free, continues to grind and rub against maddie's pussy, her fingers digging into her pale skin as she chases her pleasure.

"you really are desperate, violet. you're almost as bad as her," caitlyn chuckles, patting maddie's cheek as she whines and murmurs incoherently against the wood. "which is quite impressive."

vi glares at her girlfriend, slowly pulling her hips back and watching the strings of mixed arousal keeping her connected to maddie stretch and break, splatting onto her inner thighs. "you're getting too big for your boots, cupcake."

"you would too in my position." caitlyn hums, running her hand down maddie's back and between her thighs, gathering up the mixed juices and pushing her ring and middle fingers into her cunt, slowly fucking vi's arousal into her.

"cocky," vi scowls, her eyes drawn to how maddie clenches around caitlyn's fingers, desperately trying to keep them in and get her release. she can't tell who she wants to be, but either way, her own hand reaches down to brush her thumb over the youngest girl's clit, circling it slowly.

maddie cries out from under both of them, drooling around caitlyn's fingers and resisting the urge to start begging. she knows that doesn't get her anywhere far.

"good girl." caitlyn purrs, the palm of her hand grinding against the poor girl's asshole, stimulating her from all angles.

that's her breaking point, and she starts to rut back on their hands, desperate for her orgasm.

"you jinxed it." vi murmurs, her free hand lifting and smacking down on maddie's ass who whimpers and flinches in response.

caitlyn shakes her head, spreading her fingers inside of maddie as she slowly pulls them out, stretching her pussy just a little for both her and vi's entertainment. "she never learns."

╋━ taglist.

@danfelog @ocharavitys @trizxyp @aelizreal @luxmith @imlovewithpixels @halle5s @soniiyi @uhh-lana @pearlcigs @abbyspup @sunrxxyz @evabby @graciedollie @starrrcane @lilyyx0 @444fernz @abbysbae @tqlepatia @nvr4getme @lesbodietcoke @starting6over @2012wannabe @sapphicloverwlw @lesbpup @jaywritessometimes @jinxedbambi

[ditzydoe444]

MDNI 18+

ak!jason with puppy!reader in subspace ૮꒰ྀི∩´ ᵕ `∩꒱ྀིა

“takin’ me so well sweetheart,” jason grunted as his balls slapped against your ass as he had you pinned down in a mating press. sex with jason was always passionate, full of emotions whilst he took charge destroying your cunt in every single way. he was so damn big the stretch would slightly burn, but seeing the way he praised you, calling you his sweet girl motivated you even more. jason was never one to be gentle during sex, it was always rough. his hand would go up to your throat, gently squeezing it, whilst he would whisper the filthiest things in your ear. occasionally, if you whined to squirmed too much, he would spank you, your cheeks turning a pretty shade of pink or even red.

“s-so good jacey,” you whined, your eyes shutting tightly as you bit your lip. jason always took charge, there was just something about seeing you all submissive and wide eyed that drove him insane. the way you were so damn obedient to please him and how you bent yourself in every single damn position he wanted was addicting to say the least. you were his own personal toy, his sweet girl.

“always so good for me,” he groaned as your tight walls gripped around him, “always so tight for me hm? guess your pussy knows where home is.” he wasted no time to increase his pace, the lewd sound of skin slapping against each other filled the room.

jason being the generous man he is, always allowed you to come multiple times, until you were starry eyed with a small pathetic smile, whilst thanking him sweetly.

“gonna cum jay,” you whined as your perfectly manicured pink nails clawed his back. “yeah? you’re gonna come for me sweetheart?” jason cooed.

in a matter of seconds your walls tightened, almost milking him when you came. you were always so gorgeous when you came, the post orgasm glow on your face, and the dazed hazy expression in your glassy eyes.

you mumbled incoherently before turning rolling into the blankets pulling the material over you. “don’t sleep yet sweetheart, i need to clean you up,” jason whispered softly as he tried to pull your blankets down from your body, but you resisted stubbornly.

“t-tired,” you said with your softest voice as you tightly shut your eyes, refusing to let the blanket go. “cuddle jay?” you pouted as you clung onto your favourite teddy bear he bought for you.

“i know sweetheart, but i need to clean you up ok? just let me wipe you with the towel.”

“n-no, don’t leave me,” you whined, immediately grabbing his hand to restrain him.

“i’ll be right back sweetheart.”

jason would be lying to say that his heart didn’t break when he turned back in the bathroom, seeing you all soft and vulnerable in bed cuddling your teddy with the saddest expression on your face was adorable and heartbreaking. you were like a puppy who just got kicked.

as jason wiped down you down he couldn’t help but to noticed your dazed expression, your eyes staring into nothing whilst your mouth was opened in a small ‘o’ shape.

“you there sweetheart?”

you nodded, barely. it was like he fucked you so hard you were gone.

“speak to me sweetheart,” his hand gripped your chin softly, forcing you to look at him.

“m just tired,” your voice barely audible as you avoided eye contact, as your hands fidgeted with your teddy bear.

after wiping you down, jason placed your favourite blanket over you, wrapping you up in a burrito. “cuddles j-jacey you promised.”

jason let out a low chuckle before wrapping you tight on his arms. “play my show,” you mumbled, your fists clenched around your favourite blanket like it was going away. jason knew you were going to be like this for a while, and he didn’t mind, he loved taking care of you.

there was just something about cuddling up with you, watching your favourite cartoon show whilst you held your stuffy tightly. these times were also so intimate, he would go and brush your hair, fixing the mess he created during sex, untangling the knots whilst he brushes your hair until it was fully smooth.

his hand would gently pet your head in an attempt to coax you out, whilst giving the constant reassurance that he wasn’t going to disappear into thin air.

[tojispuppy]

thinking about needy gojo in public never giving a fuck. he’s obsessed with touching you and being touched especially when you’re out together. it comes out even more when you’re at clubs.

“you look so beautiful, baby,” he’s whispering in your ear. your back from against him as he’s kissing your neck, not caring about the people around you. he’s so cute as he paws as your seeds, his hot breath against your ear as you feel him grind his bulge into your ass.

“toru, you get excited too quickly,” you chastise him, but you can’t suppress the smile on your lips. and he knows you love it when he’s needy.

“I’m sorry,” he whines, burying his face in your neck. “I’m so hard, please help me,” he pleads, taking your hand and pressing it against his crotch. his hips jerk forward, groaning into your ear as you click your tongue in disapproval.

“you can’t wait until we go home, can you baby?” you ask, already knowing the answer.

he shakes his head, whimpering when you hold the front of his pants and lead him away from the middle of the club, until you’re in an almost secluded booth. gojo slides in first as you follow in, pressing to his side as you palm his tent.

“please take it out, baby. fuck.” he groans, watching your fingers make quick work. your eyes glance at his lips as he pants heavily. once you pull his zipper down, his cheeks feel red at the sight of his already wet boxers.

“aww I’ve barely touched you,” you coo, finger pressing against his clothed cock. satoru bites his lip, as he leans down to lick your ear. one arm is gripping the edge of the seat, as the other holds the back of your neck for support. “do you want me to make you cum here?” gojo nods. not bothering to look at the people giving strange looks as they pass by.

your lips curve up once you pull the strap of his boxers down, freeing his swollen cock. the sight always made your mouth water. his abs tense as you wrap your hand around him, leaning down to spit on his tip making him buck up. “shhh,” you coo, smiling as you wet his cock, pumping him slowly as he bites back moans.

the club music and crowded atmosphere hid you both, as satoru chokes back whimpers as he leans his head back as you swallow his cock. you hold his balls, playing with them as you bob your head.

it didn’t take long for gojo to pull you up for a kiss, whining loudly into your mouth as you pump him to his edge. your lips pulled into a smile. “angh gunna—fuck cum—“ he whines.

and not long does his hips buck up and cum shoots from his fat cock onto the floor and table. “toru…you’re making a mess,” you tease, pumping his cock, overstimulating him as he buries his head in your neck, not caring about how he’s spilled his warm seed all over the place.

“i love you,” he pants, drooling on your neck as you continue to pump him. his legs shaking, as he whines. “wanna fuck you…” he licks your shoulder.

“let’s go home then.”

[starboye]

boss!price who gets a new pretty little assistant and it just happens to be you, you looked so good in those pants that hugged every part of your ass so well and he wanted to feel it

always touching you a little to long in places that would violate so many hr department rules but he didn't care, he wanted to get in those pants one way or another and one day he finally did, everyone was gone for the night leaving only you and him in his office getting some paper work done

he had asked you to get him some coffee and within minutes you were putting it on his desk before he grabbed your hand and pulled you onto his lap "why not keep an old man company yeah" he lowly said moving his hand to your inner thigh and to your crotch where he was a little confused

he didnt feel a bulge but slickness seeping through your pants "and what's this" he didn't seem to be against it as long as he could fuck you "why dont you find out yourself" you kissed him and in no time you were splayed across his desk taking his fat cock

taking him balls deep and moaning about how good it felt while his fingers played with your clit, rubbing it intensely to give you more pleasure until you were a shaking mess begging him to give you a break but there was no stopping a man like price so you just pushed through each orgasm

"mmm captain you feel you fucking good" you whimpered and oh good gad did that do something to him hearing you pull rank on him had his cock slamming into you harder than before and abusing your precious little cunt until it couldn't take it anymore

even then you don't think he was really gonna let you go that easy, nope he needs one more taste, knelled in front of your leaking pussy before diving in, licking and lapping at it and eating out every drop of cum he fucked into you

your hands tightly held in prices hair tugging at it for him to go deeper, your thighs clasping around his head and squeezing enough to cut off oxygen for a couple of minutes but that still doesn't mean he stops, he's got a mission and he'l be damned if he stops before finsihing it

but it's safe to say your co-workers definitely noticed your limp the next day and the copious amounts of breaks you were spending with price

[pastlivesxpastlie]

𓍯𓂃Lovesick

mdni 18+

Summary: Vessel becomes fixated with you after you provide him some comfort at a party. Are you as gone for him, too? Pairing: Vessel x fem!reader wc: 4.7k head's up: vessel x you, smut with plot, friends to lovers, afab!reader, no y/n, oral sex (m receiving), pining + yearning, talk of male masturbation, texting, absolutely idiots in love, angst, bit of a slow burn (?), use of "good boy" and "good girl," tit play, couch sex, cowgirl, light choking, HEA, threats of waxing poetic about progressive metal

Taglist aka Situation Enjoyers™️: @lifemod17 @glitterghost @inv3ga @adenobabe @jeriiicho @milk--bones @myaudiocommentary @horsebiologist @intake-of-breath @fruitsandcheese @0hg00dgirl @goosepond69 @friendly-neighborhood-ghoul @lynzeequitlollygagging @thatxxjiyong-ssi @cloudy-soul @daddysaidbringthethunder @cheomain @evisnotok

“On your knees….please. Yes, like that. Mmmmph. Thank you.”

Vessel can’t help but still be polite. He can’t believe his eyes. Nor the feeling of the night air on his hard cock. He’s floating above himself and watching himself get jerked off outside at a house party. It’s not enough that he feels the spit on your palm. That could be his hand and this is just an elaborate fantasy. One of many.

But it would be the first about you. You were untouchable. You’re just a friend…just a friend…just a friend…only a friend. 

“Can I use my mouth?”

Holy fuck. This is real life.

In his fantasies, no one asks. Vessel doesn’t dream about giving consent. He dreams of being craved. Taken. Always willing. His breath catches. 

“Hey, it’s ok,” you whisper, “we don’t have to anyth-“

“Do anything to me. Please.”

His head falls back with a soft thud against the house. Getting head was always fun but this felt therapeutic. You had, of course, asked Ves why he seemed down. You always asked him those kinds of things. “Someone who cares asks those things,” he’d told himself, “but someone who loves you does something about it.” Now you’re on your knees in the dirt sucking him off. How did this even happen?

𓍯𓂃earlier...

Vessel slumped in the couch and mindlessly dragged his fingers on his thigh. He had made his rounds and said “hi” to the people he wanted to talk to and smiled awkwardly at the people he sought to avoid or didn’t know. He deserved a little sit down after that. The past few months had put him in a rut. There was always a post-tour slump but this one hit different. Vessel felt down. Down because he had writer’s block. Down because it had been gloomy this week and the week before and before that etc etc. Down because his bed was cold. Thinking back on the hook-ups during tour already got boring. The old encounters going stale. Does he hook up again with someone randomly against his better judgement or does he deal with it?

On more than one occasion, Vessel had been accused of being naive when it came to love, to which he responded, “I’m just being cautious.” Where some might be naive about love and affection and throw themselves at the first person who did the bare minimum, Vessel was naive in that he just figured people were being nice or he just got lucky. Otherwise, people didn’t really want to mess with being in a relationship with a musician. They’re broody. They’re too busy. They’re married to their work. They’re full of themselves. Vessel internalized those things. Sure he was broody to begin with, but that was his brand. But everything else, sure, he could be married to his work and keep himself busy. “Just earth sign things!” Easy as that. And maybe one day someone else’s indifference towards commitment would rub off on him. His rumination is interrupted when the couch sinks a bit beside him and he feels a soft punch on his arm. 

“What does it mean when I don’t get ‘hi’ or your awkward smile, hm?”

His heart warms up a bit. It’s you. You teeter somewhere between “friend” and “good friend.” It’s always nice to see you but you leave it at that. You see each other when you see each other. He shrugs and looks over at you. “Didn’t see you. Bet you were hiding or something.” 

“Tsk. Fine. Maybe I was. We know too much about each other’s awkward little quirks,” you sigh. “Doesn’t mean I didn’t want to see you, though. How you been?”

Vessel laughs to himself, thinking of the miserable spiral you interrupted. “Imagine how much more awkward this could get if I told you the truth.” But you don’t laugh at his little self-deprecation. That makes him nervous. His insides churn. You’re just watching him, waiting to hear what he has to say. Why do you do that? So many people ask “how are you” because it’s polite…why do you care so much? “Look.” Vessel finally speaks again and flattens his hair. “I’m not great.” 

You shift and exhale softly. “Yeah. Me neither.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

He can see it in your eyes. You’re not trying to have some misery-loves-company-circlejerk. You have that same “mask” on as him. “Hate to hear that.” For a second Vessel feels something stir within him. Your tone is unenthusiastic but he knows it has nothing to do with him. He’s just glad to bond with someone, even if it’s over something lame like depression or whatever is eating at you both. “What’s the matter?”

“Oh just…general bullshit.” You shrug but Vessel knows whatever it is, you can’t just shrug it off. “Like if I’m so stuck, maybe this is where I’m meant to be. Even if it hurts.”

He makes an “o” shape with his mouth and is lost in thought. He has certainly felt that way before, but hearing you say it about yourself is heretical. He hates that you think that way. “No.”

“Oh. Well…alright. Thanks Ves, you healed me.” You chuckle dryly. He rolls his eyes and pats your leg. “So what’s got you down? For real.”

Vessel’s smile fades. “I feel…stuck as well. Just…going through the motions.” He scratches the back of his neck. “All the excitement of the last couple of months just…ripped from me. Gets hard to keep up with my emotions when I’m…frankly…bored. Bored of feeling this way. My own company.”

“I get that. Like you have to have things changing or moving all the time.”

“Exactly. Like some kind of jump that isn’t a substance or…whatever.”

“Hah…yeah… sometimes I just feel like…” you begin but pause.

“Like what?” Why are you blushing like that, he wonders idly. And why is it suddenly the cutest thing he’s ever seen?

“Uhm. I feel like…I need to get laid. That would fix me, right? Huge load of emotions and hormones released with someone you like…what could be better?”

“Oh is it that simple?” Vessel laughs. A genuine, warm laugh. You’re so silly, he just loves talking to you. And he loves how you laugh with him. He was scared for a second that you might take it personally, but he’s glad to see that you too have a sick sense of humor when you’re feeling unwell. 

“Maybe it is. Guess…we won’t know until…” you trail off.

“Until we try…” Vessel’s throat goes dry. He tries to swallow hard before nonchalantly scoping out how many people were on the patio. 

𓍯𓂃

Vessel always had to make things happen, and he was fucking exhausted from it. Now you were happening to him. You clued in on what he wanted when he suggested you both get some fresh air. Hell, you were the one who found the perfect spot for this tryst. 

“Y-you like doing that?” he whimpers. He can’t make out much of your features but he feels you nod and smile and…fuck, take him deeper in your mouth. He’s holding his breath. He knows he shouldn’t but if he doesn’t exert some kind of control over himself he’ll lose it. But when you grab his waist and start literally fucking your face with his cock he has to let go. He grips your hair, willing himself to resist overpowering you and thrusting harder against your movements. “Ffffff-fffuck.” He whimpers softly and bites at his lip… wishing you had kissed him before you got started so he could imagine it again while you savored every inch of him. His entire body shivers when you moan against his cock, making him realize you like the sound of his whimpers. His pathetic little pleas and moans.

“‘That feel good, Ves?” You whisper, stroking his cock as you catch your breath? “Hmm?”

He nods and whines, trying to not be loud. Thank god it was dark, otherwise you would have seen the tears threatening to spill. The way he bit his hand to keep from moaning out loud. What if you two got caught? What if another friend heard what you pulled from him? “Fuck…you’re gonna make me cum…”

“That’s a good boy.” Vessel feels his stomach drop as you start sucking him off again but with more enthusiasm. Like you need him to cum. And he does. But you don’t move…you keep your mouth on him. And he  might be the one cumming down your throat but he’s not claiming you. No. 

You. 

Own. 

Him. 

Somehow, and much to his delight, Vessel does not lose sleep over the ordeal or his new-found, all-consuming feelings for you. In fact, he’s never slept better. Sleeping once meant loud, restless dreams; now it means a nestling in and wondering about you before dozing off…imagining he’s holding you. He keeps telling himself it’s infatuation. It’ll go away. He’s just starstruck from the way you took care of him. But then…the ruminating started…

Each morning, Vessel wondered about you. Maybe today you’ll share something on Instagram that he can make a little comment on. Send a react. Yes, sure, you’re friends, but you’re not “close.” When he looked into your soft, sweet eyes the other night he wondered how a darling little thing like you learned to give head like that. Suddenly your life story became his Roman Empire. Were you a natural? Did someone give you gentle pointers the first few times? Or did you have to do it a lot to get good? Did you have to go jumping from man to man to find the love you so desperately craved? This made Vessel’s blood run cold. The thought of sweet, wonderful you merely being an option to other men. A small voice told Vessel that perhaps he himself was just an option. Maybe you did stuff like this a lot. One among many. Vessel chided this voice. Locked it in a dark little room with no ventilation. You were good. You wouldn’t use anyone. In fact, you probably did learn this from practice because who wouldn’t love you?

Vessel knows he’s being stupid. You two like each other but he won’t reach out. Then again, you don’t reach out either. That’s ok. He had no coherent plan of moving things forward. He was also terrified the spark you two shared would be gone if you tried hanging out again. What if you couldn’t handle his schedule? Or didn’t find it endearing when his moods never let up? What if that stupid voice was right? Most of the time, he resigned himself back to “I’ll see her when I see her,” and a cheeky wank to take the edge off. But that always left him feeling guilty. Empty. 

This particular morning he had been deep in thought about what your favorite position might be and how many times he could make you cum just from fucking you at a torturous pace that way. Today’s position of choice was doggy, but bent over his desk, on top of his notes from recording and writing sessions. That was what you deserved. You drove him to absolutely hopeless distraction…you should be bent over while he stands behind you, fingers melting into your flesh, holding you in place. He swears this will be the last time he jerks off thinking about you…but because of that he can’t help but edge himself. Thinking about you is easy. Not because you yourself are easy…but because Vessel realizes how naturally desirable you are. Seeing the way you took control and took care of him opened his mind to this entirely new world of fantasies. The heat blooming from his groin to his tummy made him stop for the third time. Yes, in this fantasy you were bent over for him…but there was more to it. You were doing him a favor. Good boys got to take breaks. Good boys stuck in a rut need to empty their brains and fill up their girlfriends. FUCK he wanted you to be his girlfriend so bad. And that thought scared him…as does the sound of his phone buzzing a few times. His train of thought vanishes along with his hard-on. Cursing whoever who messaging him this early, he grabs his phone but then makes the most embarrassing noise known to man. 

You: hey isn’t this a band you like?

the second message is the link to an instagram post

You: they’re doing a last minute show next weekend 

And sure enough, one of his favorite niche prog metal bands was playing in place of someone else at a local venue on Saturday. And tickets were dead cheap. Another message. 

You: if I knew anything about metal I’d go with you. Not sure how much fun I’d be 

Sirens! Flashing lights! All the bells and whistles going off in Vessel’s brain are firing. His inner little voices of reason (and everything in between) begin a debate.

“She’s flirting!” “Obviously, she’s flirting she sucked your dick.” “Can’t be that deep mate, she’s just now talking to you after a month.” “Sure it is, it is has to be flirting! She’s practically begging for you to invite her!”

Vessel: lol I could send you a playlist :)

“Mate, come on, what are you doing?” “Invite her over to hear the playlist. That’ll will be cute” “and then fuck her. Fuck her like the sl—“

Vessel rolls over and screams in his pillow. He will not have a meltdown over this.

Vessel: or we could throw you in feet first? Come with me? 

… … … 

Those infernal fucking “typing” bubbles are killing him. 3 minutes of that. Then no response. Vessel isn’t sure what he did wrong or if he did do anything wrong. He tries to go about his day but there’s still that nagging suspicion that he did too much. But when he least expects it…

You: sorry this is so last minute. are you busy tonight? 

Vessel: no, I’m not. Why?

He bites his lip as he waits to see what you’re planning. He wonders if you want to talk about what happened…or maybe do it again…or maybe act like nothing happened. 

You: I just don’t want to be alone tonight.  Vessel: I don’t want to be either.

It’s set then. He’ll go to your place…maybe have some drinks…maybe get a chance to thank you for the fun. He wanted to taste you. To make you cum like he did for you. Too many nights he spent wondering what you’re into. He had cast you in his mind as a soft domme, probably just because that’s what tickled his fancy at the time. But you had this caring…almost nurturing sense about you that night. You touched him like he was precious…like he would break if you didn’t take your time. He wanted to show you he was tougher than that. He could take it. The mere thought of even getting a chance to kiss you and make you feel even a fraction of the pleasure you gave him made his cock twitch. The time between now and when he was reunited with you would be torture.

But when he gets to your place, he doesn’t feel confident enough to act smooth or even touch you. If anything, he wanted to touch your hair. Literally just brush back the strands you missed when you tucked it behind your ear. Finally he musters the courage to stand beside you as you’re getting him some water. You’ve sucked his dick, the least he can do is move your hair. He moves in for the kill…but perhaps a bit too fast, because just as his hand reaches your personal space, you turn your head to look up at him and... receive a cheek full of Vessel knuckles. 

He moves quickly to cup your face, desperate to show you he didn’t mean to whack you, but he’s greeted with a surprised chuckle and your smile. Not that one you put on for friends or staged photos…your real smile. He could die happy right now. Just absolutely melt. If he ever wanted to write true, honest to god love ballads he would think back to this moment. This gooey, gushy feeling. He feels confident, the same confidence the mask gives him, and presses a soft kiss where he accidentally got you.

“Ves…” 

You still smile but he sees something behind your eyes. Vessel keeps his hands on your face…his heart breaking and stomach dropping. He had noticed you weren’t posting regularly on your socials and even then you seemed a bit less animated. He’s learned your tells. There’s smudges from yesterday’s eyeliner that somehow looks effortless but still betrays the fact that you didn’t wash your face last night. In his mind, Vessel likened you to a shrinking violet. The kindest, most gorgeous girl who ever graced him with her presence trying to hide herself away. This wouldn’t do. Even though he didn’t feel like he had the emotional energy for himself…he desperately wanted to be here for you. After the past four weeks of falling down a rabbit hole imagining you as a soft, caring, dominant partner, he suddenly felt needed. He wanted to provide so bad it hurt. 

“What’s the matter, love?”

“I…” your voice cracks and you shake your head. He backs off a bit, letting you have some space. “It’s been a rough few weeks. I’ve…missed you and felt like…a fucking idiot the whole time.”

Vessel nods and takes a drink of his water. “Yeah. Getting laid didn’t fix us, did it?”

You laugh ruefully and cross your arms. “It’s made me worse. How about you?”

“You first.”

You roll your eyes and stretch your neck. Vessel nearly loses his mind at how you bite your lip as you look him up and down. This is what he wants. To be under your gaze. Please. Keep him there. His breath catches. You could tell him to leave right now and he would. But instead, you keep talking. 

“To be completely honest with you, I didn’t think there was anything between us other than like…being friends. So I don’t know what came over me when I just…literally threw myself at you. I shouldn’t have done that. That’s…stupid reckless behavior.” You wring your hands a little and look down. “How can I expect to be taken seriously if I just—“

Vessel puts his hand up. “Stop that.”

“But I’m serious, Vess-“

“I said…’stop that.’ I take you seriously. I’ve always taken you seriously.” Vessel considers you for a moment. While he’d love to take you to bed, he’s desperate to lift you up. To reassure you. “Love, if you think you shouldn’t be taken seriously, imagine how I feel. You could have written me off as a jerk for letting you—“ but Vessel stops himself before he waxes poetic about your blowjob skills and ruins the moment. “I didn’t even follow you after we were done. Call you. Message you directly. After everything…I shouldn’t even have the chance to be with you.”

You shake your head and look down. “I know you’re not after one thing…I know it. But…why can’t I believe it? It’s nothing personal, I swear I just-“

Something deep within propels Vessel to pull you in for a gentle kiss…and to his utter delight you melt right into his touch. You fit so ridiculously perfect in his arms and mesh so well against his lips. He lets out a soft moan right as you break the kiss. Vessel had already been taken with you, but now he was enchanted. “Give me a month. I’ll show you how serious I am about you. It’s not just the sex…I promise.”

Your breath is ragged…you’re overcome with emotion and desire. You nod up at him. “All the time you need…”

“Good girl…” Vessel cocks his head, amused that he just called you that. He meant it in an encouraging way but…if the shoe fits. “Would you like that? To be my good girl?”

Your eyes get a bit dark, but not out of anything malicious. Your chin raises. “Ves…I would be anything you asked me to be. I don’t think you understand what you’ve done to me…” You pause but Vessel can’t even begin to formulate a thought. Were you as borderline obsessive as him? “You shouldn’t be on my mind the way you are. I mean…what are you doing to me? You’ve shown me so much kindness and your own vulnerability…that shouldn’t turn me on. It’s endearing and admirable, sure, but why do I…I just want to take care of you. I’m sorry I just…I feel guilty for…for falling for you because see me and you let me suck you off…I mean…how old are we?”

He’s taken aback a little. Something in your mind is tricking you. “Sweetheart,” he cups your cheek, “if it makes you feel any better, I feel the same. When I saw how down you looked a bit ago…” he shakes his head and sighs, “took everything in me to not start confessing everything just to see you smile. I want you. I want…everything that makes you ‘you.’ And I get the feeling you want the same…right?”

For a long second, you don’t say anything. You stare up at him, glassy eyed. He doesn’t need verbal confirmation. He’s passed that. He’s no longer timid about you. His lips meet yours in an agonizingly slow, tender kiss. Vessel’s hips press you against your kitchen counter, letting you feel his excitement. It wasn’t pure arousal. It was the excitement of being open and honest with each other. The emotional push and pull of comforting you but also receiving your reassurance did things to him. Oh fuck. Oh no. This was love, wasn’t it? Your hands pull at his hips, bringing one of his legs between yours. You moan softly, and he pulls from the kiss.

“Do you think about me at all?” He whispers breathlessly? You moan as his lips ghost your ear. The feeling of your thighs tightening around him makes his cock twitch. He wishes your thighs were around his hips…or even his face. You bite your lip and whine a little as your hips buck involuntarily.

“I think about fucking you on my couch everyday.”

Obviously the next stop is the couch. Vessel sits down and pulls you to straddle him. His kisses become more ravenous. Finally…the girl of his dreams is on him. He’d do anything for you right now, but he wants you a little vulnerable. You, of course, had been pining, too. What’s the harm in being pathetic together? He pulls off your shirt and nearly looses his mind when your soft flesh comes into view. Your precious tummy. Your squishy tits. Fuck. It was all his. “Get your pants off.”

You hop off his lap and do as your told. Vessel just watches and unzips his pants, adjusting them and his boxers to let his cock out. He bites his lip and strokes himself teasingly as he watches you pull off your leggings and panties. Drooling at the sight of your nude legs…the hint of your pussy. He beckons you forward seductively, a little taste of what’s to come once you’re in reach. 

“How wet are you, love?” He asks, letting his fingers dip between your legs. You moan softly as his fingers trail up and down your slit, enjoying the wetness he’s caused. “I don’t even need to help you, do I? Excitable girl. Aren’t you?” All this gets from you is a nod. You’re so gone. He leans back on the couch and pulls you toward him. He’s still completely dressed in his henley and jeans, but you don’t seem to mind. He positions you on his cock and lets you set the pace. He doesn’t know how long it’s been since you’ve been fucked, but he knows to be kind and let you adjust to his size. His eyes roll back and his head thumps against the couch. Something about how your body takes his cock makes his insides melt. You run your fingers through your hair and arch your back as you lower yourself completely on him. “Don’t move…don’t move, love.” He adjusts slightly to bring your chest to his mouth. His soft kisses and kitten licks pepper your breasts, causing your pussy to clench. It feels amazing. He’s being so gentle, but on the inside he wants to ravage you. Even after getting off everyday for a month thinking about you, you still excite Vessel into a frenzy. 

“Oh…oh Ves…” you gasp as he takes your nipple between his lips. You both moan as his cock twitches against your sensitive walls, but he keeps you still, cockwarming as he teases and makes out with your nipples. He shamelessly buries his face in your chest and moans, squeezing your ass to pull you close. Vessel can hardly believe it. You’re finally in his arms, his cock is stuffed inside you, and you want his love just as badly as he wants yours. He pulls his face away from your body to look up at you and whisper.

“You’re my girl now. You know that?” He puts his finger that had touched your pussy in his mouth and sucks, making sure you how see gone he is for you. “Gonna make you so happy…”

Vessel can hardly believe what’s coming out of his mouth, but pussy from someone who accepts you unconditionally will do that to you. He thought he was only built for fleeting infatuations and hooks up. But here he was…making promises he’d sooner die than break. After playfully torturing you with how his cock twitched inside you every time you kissed him or made a little sound, he starts to move your hips.  You look positively angelic on his lap completely naked taking his cock. His eyes roll back and he realizes that whatever half baked fantasy he had about fucking you didn’t prepare him for how good you felt. How warm and safe he’d feel under the weight of your body. It’s almost too much. Not that he’d cum yet. No. He just wants to say stupid things like “I love you;” and “we should move in together;” and “please call me a good boy.” That little submissive voice was still in him. He knew you were responding well to him taking control but he wanted that gentle control from you again. 

“Am…am I good for you?” He rasps out as you steadily grind against him.

“Mhm…so good…you…you like being good?”

Vessel’s eyes roll back and he nods pathetically. “Just for you.” 

You bury your face in the nape of his neck and suck little pink love marks up and down it. He moans with each one, clenching your body impossibly close. “I can’t move when you hold me like that…” you say backing up a little. You take his wrists gently and pin them against the back of the couch. He licks his lips and smiles dreamily. “Oh you’re pathetic, aren’t you?” Your fingers intertwine and he lets out a contented sigh.

“So pathetic…”

“You like being good but you like getting in trouble, too, huh?”

Vessel’s brain is mush. He knows you’re lightly degrading him and he fucking loves it but he has no concept of what’s happening other than “yippee perfect girl is being perfect.” He just nods and lets you fuck him for all he’s worth, cumming when you wrap your dainty hand around his neck. 

Later at what can only be described as a debrief at the pub, you share a large basket of fries. Vessel takes a deep breath as he attempts to act normal after having his mind blown and emotions pulled in all kinds of different directions. “This is good, yeah?”

“The fries?”

“For Christ’s sake…”

“Oh sorry, you mean…us…yeah. This is good. Really good. Are you scared?”

Vessel looks at the table and then at you. Honesty is his only option. “Terrified.”

“Same.”

He ponders for a moment and puts his hand palm up on the table. “Do it scared?”

You plop your hand down on his, “and together.”

“Now about this gig next week. I need to start your lectures on progressive metal-“

“Oh god.”

[bttrflybb]

𝖿𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗄 ≡ neji hyūga (18+)

contains: fem reader˒ neji x reader˒ crvix stim˒ breeding˒ praise˒ prgnancy ment.

summary: you find out what makes the genius of the hyūga clan tick. your sex life is good, but he’s always been a bit uninvolved in the decisions around it.

w/c: 1.5k.

a/n: this was supposed to be multi headcanon post including others about you finding out their biggest kinks, but i’d figure i’d just get it out now since it’ll take a bit for the rest. ero-sensei and the sixth are already gonna be included but if you have anyone else you’d like to see, let me know ! barely proofread, if you’re stumbling along this post in its infancy before i get back home and make some more edits… im sorry . ;;

neji, at his core, is a gentle man. he’s slow, intent on doing his best for you, making you feel the best for him. during the act he’s the one taking the lead, but outside of it you’re the one telling him just how to do so. truth is, he had always been a bit unsure of his sexual preferences. it’s no surprise that such a straight-edged n’ pent up shinobi like him has less developed kinks and fetishes than his pervy lover. 

that is, until the both of you let something slip.

it was in the middle of a hazy entanglement, you were flush against the futon and neji was hungry. by the way he spread your legs open, rounding one palm to the underside of your right thigh and lifting it up and out and hooking the other underneath your left knee to stretch it outwards against the floor, this man was starved. he swallowed your moans the second they came, sloppily tonguing you down and devouring the mix of saliva you two created. so fucking desperate. the fat tip of neji’s cock draagged along your wet slit forcing a whine out of you from just the sound. your head clouded with confusion and lust- it felt so fucking good but it contrasted starkly aside the usual sensual pace and tone neji tends to set. he rut against the outside of you, rocking back n’ forth while your lips enveloped him and covered his cock in your juices. he looked so good above you, his hair a mess and his brows furrowed in horny concentration. your thoughts still run with curiosity, did he drink at all? no, he doesn’t taste like anything. neji isn’t the kind of person to be open about his sex so he definitely didn’t ask anybody-

“talk to me, lovely.” he rumbled, the undertones of desperation seeping through such a caring, gentle voice. he even sounded different. neji tapped his forehead against yours, resting against it for a moment while he waited for you to come back to him. “m’ okay, neji.” you nodded, locking your gaze with his. “jus’ so… feisty.” you flush. neji separates his forehead from yours and you swear you catch a sly smile beneath the umber veil that falls across his face as he shifts and dips his head down to the crook of your neck. instinctively you tip your head up to make room for the licks and nips that make their way up to your ear.

“yeah? you like it?” his breathy words laced with lust choked you like poison. a pitiful moan crawled its way out of your throat and all you could do was nod and breathe out an ‘uh-huh’ while he ravaged the side of your neck. lavender eyes fix onto every movement of your face, peering at you from below through dark strands of hair like an animal behind bars. oh so fucking slowly neji fucks his tip in n' out of your entrance, fixated on the way your eyebrows knit together and mouth twitches as he sinks his cock deeper with every other thrust. each word of praise goes straight to your cunt while it eagerly swallows more n’ more of his length. you sound like a slut in more ways than one and it’s fueling neji like he’s a goddamn incubus.

your knees are up by your head and neji's pace is grueling. throughout all of this neji's words of praise never stop flowing- like sweet thick honey. you're drowning. each time he buries his pretty slender cock all the way in he draws it out slow, then fast, then all the way back in again- and again- "neh..jiii- nnghh- hahh-" you mewl, your words and noises staggering each time his tip meets with your cervix. between the abuse of your cunt and that sweet, demeaning voice, it’s all too much. he speaks down to you like you're stupid- and you are. he knows you are. "yeaah, sweetheart? what is it, angel?" he knows what it is, he knows what he's doing. "mm' close n'ji... m' reaaal close-" you whine, grasping at his wrists planted on either side of your head. he's so sweet, delicately taking hold of both of your hands and interlocking his fingers between yours. "y-yeah angel?" he stammers, he's close too and you squeeze his palms in acknowledgment. "hahh, you want it sweet thing? what you said earlier- about a baby- gghhah-" his moans descend into an airy, rough laugh and you swear you can feel his dick throb when he says it. “you want my seed, pretty girl?”

fuck. it all clicks now. when he had come home and you awoke to the sound of shoji doors sliding open and closed. dinner was ready and warm, the garden was tended to, the house was clean and you had showered and slipped into a nap on the couch in just your night robe . neji kissed the sleep from your eyes and you joked about how peaceful it was; the only thing that could disrupt it would be one or two little ones running around. that's what it fucking was.

"neji-" you choke out and wrap your legs around his hips, pulling him into you. that brazen expression falters more and more and he's boring holes through his own eyelids- it feels like he's in a fucking sauna. his sly little smile slips away each thrust and he gets sloppier and sloppier each time he dives inside. "m' close angel- hahhh do you want me t-ngh," you can feel him throb inside you, he's actively holding himself back. "please neji, hah- fuck- get me fucking pregnant neji-" and with three pumps and the help your vulgar rambling he's driving his own cum deep inside. out halfway and back in, hard. the prettiest fucking mix of groans and whines spill out his mouth with each rope he shoots inside you. he feels so hot, his head feels so heavy he just lets it drop- n’ if he wasn't holding himself up with locked elbows and you werent keeping squeezing his hands so tight your knuckles were turning white, he might've just toppled over. you look so fucking good underneath him this way, twitching n’ arching while taking everything he gives you- and he’s sure to let you know that. “look so good, pretty girl, taking it all- fuck,” you cry, his words, his pelvis to clit thrusts, his voice, his warmth flooding you sends you clumsily toppling over the edge. the sound he makes when he starts to feel you throb around him is flithy, and the words of praise that follow after are just as gross. “yeah take it all pretty thing, take what you want. milk my cock f’r me…”

the highs of both your orgasms slowly wear off together and the exhaustion hits. your heart pangs with pity when neji’s elbows shakily hit the futon with a poof and you look up at him trembling n’ panting above you. you’ve never seen him so unkempt. honestly, a small wave of pride washes over you and you can’t help but breathe out a small giggle while you quiver and take spaced, shaky breaths. your foreheads meet once again and he offers you a weak smile. “what are you laughing at?” his voice is hoarse and laced in faux venom. his eyebrows knit together for a moment and his eye contact falters- a simultaneous whine comes from the two of you as he drags his half hard cock out and the results of tonight make themselves known. neji sits back on his knees and just watches it spill out onto the robe beneath you, barring it from leaking out onto the futon. there was so much. you can almost see stars form in the blank space of his eyes while he watches you and you just want to hide. none of that here though. before you can even start neji’s got his hands back on you palming at the inside of your open flat right thigh and gripping the top of your left knee, preventing you from closing your legs and rolling to the side. “nejiii… you’re staring too hard.” you whine. “m’barrassing.” you’re hiding behind your hands at this point. neji shakes his head and cuffs your wrists with one hand and brings them to lay on your tummy. his right snakes around your left knee and he scooches in so he can kiss the top of it and rest his head on it, letting his hand travel down and rub your thigh.

“did you mean it?” he asks, a bit hushed.

“mean what?” obviously you have a grasp on what he’s inquiring about.

“what you said- about… um… getting you pregnant.” neji murmured, censoring the word tailing the end of the sentence between his lips and your knee, kissing it again.

“if i didn’t i wouldn’t have said anything- the first or second time.” you pull yourself up with his hand (well, more like he pulls you up single-handedly after a couple taps and tugs to show him you wanted up) and are eye level with him again. soft kisses meet his left cheek and cool and clammy skin flushes at the affection.

“is that fine?” “mhm.” “you liked it?” “a lot.”

[liabugs]

caleb x fem!reader drabble ^_^

cw: pwp (without plot) p in v (unprotected) creampie, breeding, talks of baby trapping and pregnancy, overstimulation, mating press, begging, pet names (princess, baby, good girl) slight spoiler for homecoming wings (?)

this man makes me go FERAL, once again dividers by @/anitalenia !! <3

SMUT AHEAD 18+ MDNI

"I know baby," Caleb coos over your whimpering, "jus' one more 'kay? I need to fill you up one more time, princess.." You shake your head, tears falling from your cheeks. " 's too much..! can't take it pleasepleaseplease...!" You beg, looking up at him with doe eyes. It felt like it's been hours since Caleb started fucking you, pulling orgasm after endless orgasm from you... He has you in a mating press, your legs laying on his broad shoulders. You're practically folded in half. All while he keeps going on about breeding you saying,

"Gotta make sure it takes."

"you're always gonna be mine, 'jus need to make sure you can't leave me no matter what."

"you're gonna look so beautiful with a round belly, everybody in the Fleet will know who fucked a baby into your pretty cunt.."

but you were to fucked out to register any of it, his cock hitting all the right places inside of you. You could barely register your thoughts, all you knew in this moment is the feeling of Caleb's cock deliciously stretching you out. With his sweet praises and his hands roaming around your body, pinching your nipples and rubbing the swollen bud between your legs, you were close to cumming again. And Caleb could feel it. He felt the way your walls were fluttering around him, sucking him in deeper, trying to milk his cock for all it's worth.

"such a good girl, 'gonna cum for me yeah?" He asks gently. You nod, moaning his name, babbling slurred words of how good he was making you feel. Caleb was getting close to another orgasm himself, the way your cunt was clinching around his cock was driving him crazy. Looking down at your face with admiration, his hand cupping your cheek with his thumb caressing your cheek. He leans down to kiss you, desperation and lust fill the kiss. His hand goes back down to rub circles on your clit, and fortunately that's all you need to give Caleb what he wants. Your legs shake as you come undone around him, moaning and curses fall from your lips.

With a couple more thrusts, Caleb's release follows shortly after yours. A groan emerges from his throat, warm spurts of cum fill your already stuffed cunt. He moves your legs from his shoulders, letting you relax into the mattress. Almost instantly, you start drifting off into sleep. Caleb smiles, looking at the mess he's made out of your cunt. He's very sure that before long, there will be a bump swelling on your tummy. He knows you'll be scared... but don't worry! He will take good care of you, even if that means not letting the rest of the world see you ever again.

[noirsdoll]

Could you please write Jimmy burning cigs on your tongue? its ok if not! nnghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

you’re soooo funny (this is my moot LMAO) um YES i can oh em gee!! cw for abuse, drugs, and shotgunning!

The sun beats down your neck, forms an ache in your temple.

You’re sitting shotgun in Jimmy’s rusty pickup. It’s a multi generational hand-me-down— the windows have cranks and the radio takes cassettes. You’ve told him before that he should pawn it off to a museum. He just snorts and flicks your forehead.

Coke is sprinkled along the dashboard, you’ve chased what’s left of it with your nose and a straw. Tipping your head back against the seat rest, you let the warm setting sun wash over your skin. You sigh out into the air, glancing over at Jimmy, who’s got a cigarette between his teeth and is flicking a lighter that’s equally as ancient as the car.

You hold out your hand to steal a drag from his cigarette and Jimmy just rolls his eyes. “I had to keep watch and make sure you didn’t fucking overdose. This one’s all mine.”

You scowl at him, your high messing with your brain and turning you cranky. “Don’t pretend that you care.”

“I care enough to not have the cops on our ass, babe.” Jimmy turns to looks at you, eyes sharp and glinting with malice. “Be grateful.”

You scoff, glancing out the window. There’s no one out for miles and you’re in a secluded parking lot. The most Jimmy would be watching out for would be pigeons.

The silence drags, the both of you remain too stubborn to ever apologize or forgive, always meeting an olive branch with a flame.

“Hey, look at me.”

You turn to him, confused. “What—?”

Jimmy leans over the center console and grips your chin, pulling your lips to his. You feel him exhale the sharp nicotine down your throat. As he pulls away, the crisp smoke wafts from both your lips. It stings your eyes, you feel hazy and breathless.

“Happy now?” Jimmy grins like he always does, when he’s so irrefutably right.

You nod, leaning in for another before he interrupts.

“I think I’m done with my cig,” he says, though the embers are still scarlet. “Open your mouth for me.”

You obey, opening your mouth. Are you gonna get another puff? It’s always something with him, something that sends a flurry of electricity down your spine. 

“Wider.”

Your tongue lolls out. You wonder if he’s gonna kiss you again. You want him to, hot smoke and crimson warmth coiling in your stomach. Jimmy’s so good at that— keeping you on the edge, pulling you closer and closer to a cliff you wouldn’t mind diving off of. It makes you forget just how much of an asshole he is.

And then he presses the blazing cigarette down on your tongue.

You yell, lurching away and you trying to move your jaw back, which is proven difficult with it being in his grip. There’s a circular welt budding flat on the centre of your tongue.

Jimmy tosses the stub on the dash, where he could’ve put it out just fine. Not taking his eyes off of you, he leans back in, sucking your tongue into his mouth and kissing you again. The whiplash makes you melt, his saliva washes over your fresh burn and it hurts. 

Pain flashes white-hot behind your eyes and Jimmy’s hand is already groping you before you can get a word out. Slender, spindly fingers taking what they want like they always do.

And that is the other high you search for.

[medullamindset]

STEB HEADCANONS :>

Uhhhm YEAH a few headcanons ive collected since act 3 came out in november 😸 enjoy Stebnation, or dont idk

This is very short and boring but its easier to write him in an actual scenario so TRUST IN ME MY UPCOMING STUFF WILL BE BETTER 😿

Content warnings: Established relationship w Reader, miiiild mention of knifeplay but its easily looked past. My opinion on his race.

NSFW marked this pink!

• He cannot be any older than 30. I'd bet hes like 23-27. Idk how old u have to be to be a field medic/enforcer??

• Hes around 6'4.. Tall guy. ♥︎‿♥︎

• His frill thingies seem to lie flat to his face with "down" emotions, such as shame/guilt and sadness. But they point straight out with more intense emotions, like suspense, anger, exitement, worry. I love the way they flutter sometimes, as a subtle reaction. Like when they saw the Zaunites walking over the bridge to aid in the war, his frills were like "oh, wow.."

But also how they shot straight out with suspense when Ambessa wanted Caitlyn to b commander and everyone was banging their chests and stuff.

• I'd like to imagine his frills flutter a few times in a row when he orgasms, like the shockwaves of pleasure, but also post-orgasm. Maybe they go hand in hand with his nervous system kinda?

• His tip is the same color as his eyelids. His nails seem to be beige too.

• He CAN talk he just chooses not to if he feels he doesnt need to. Short sentences if he has to, small nods and shakes of his head, LOOKS. his face is VERY expressive, but thats more of a fact than a hc. body language is a key communication of his.

• Hes def always been the quiet type, ever since he was six he hasn't been big on speaking.

But sometimes you cheat the system.. Having your back turned to him when you ask him a question just so you can hear his voice, even just to get a little "mhm" from him <3

• On the rare occasion that he does speak his voice is kinda hoarse and gravelly from lack of use UGHHHH *squirts everywhere*

• hes a bit of a "bland" person, hes not boring.. Just a very simple man. He reads practically anything, carries your bags when you're out shopping, he literally just goes wherever you wanna go. He hangs over your shoulders when you do ur makeup, cooks breakfast most mornings, cleans when he feels its needed cuz he doesn't like messes, he'll have music on in the background tho and it's usually one of your vinyls that's playing, makes him feel closer to you <3

Simple things man. deeply emotional and caring too. Hes so kind and eager to help ugh MY SHAYLAA.

• hes a bit socially awkward, he doesnt have social anxiety, hes just kinda stiff and quiet around people.

• what the fuck does he do all day, really?

• I feel like he'd like dancing with his lover but he thinks hes bad at it so hes a bit awkward <333 put his hands around ur waist for him tho and he'd turn into even more speechless mush, everytime.

• Has a gummy smile thats really evident when he laughs so he tries not too, might let a grin slip in private tho c: and close mouthed chuckling/snickers.

• Loves being carressed, hold his face in your hands and trace his cheekbones with ur thumbs? FOLDS. Running your fingers up and down the fins at the back of his head when his face is in your neck? PUTTY.

• Speaking of fins, they continue down to to his lower back, shorter at the bottom but longest between his shoulderblades. He also has darker spots(scales?) Like the other fishfolk in Arcane on his outer arms and thighs. See this post of mine for a ref :)

• he drinks alot of water, like ALOT. his throat get dry easily cuz hes.. Yk, fish.. Atleast half-fish. He'll remind his partner to do the same, no matter your race cuz its good for u, he'll nudge u with a glass in hand and a small tug at his lips, or simply just leave it beside u as a silent reminder.

• Loves holding hands. like, he just LOVES it. He'll act nonchalant abt it but on the inside his heart is just blossoming 💗

Like imagine you're at a café or a bar or a diner WHATEVER and ur just sitting infront of him yapping abt ur day or smth ur planning while holding his hand over the table, and he'll just be buzzing with love, rubbing your soft skin with his thumb, feeling lucky his blush doesnt show (⁎˃ᴗ˂⁎)

• ABSOLUTELY ADORES kisses. He just finds them so sweet and intimate (cuz they are. But i mean like, he doesn't ever NOT think about it after kissing you, hes always locked on target y'know, he only sees you. He only feels you when kissing your lips, he'll kiss u like its the end of the world.. even if hes just getting up to go to the bathroom or something.)

• he just loves you so much, please kiss him, everywhere. Theres not a single spot of him you could kiss that wouldn't make him shiver (the good way).

• Steb is not much for hardcore kinks in bed. He doesnt "fuck", he makes love. In his eyes there truly isnt any purer form of intimacy than sharing something like that, giving away a piece of yourself to this person, your souls spiritually intertwined and yadiyadayada (it's true tho)

• He will go harder if you ask him to, hes not afraid to make you scream with pleasure. Also, bite him and hes a goner. Omg if hes like treating u so nicely in the sack you gotta bite down on something to contain yourself, pls let it be his shoulder, please leave pretty imprints of you canines all over his neck and chest. And hickeys too HNNGHH

Makes him groan so deliciously. Hips snapping into yours just a liiiittle more harshly than intended.

He'll bite you back carnally if you'll let him, Steb gets so lost in it sometimes..

• Hes open to experimentation tho, like if theres something you reallyreallyreally wanna try he'll be like 'euuughgghggggrhggh okay yk what fine', as long as he doesn't have to hurt you, not too much anyway. The idea of inflicting pain-pain on the person he loves makes him queasy.

• But if hes really fucking horny at some point, watching you take the front seat and play around w his gills, scratch at his chest, put a hand around his neck or.. Idk drag a knife gently across his skin while topping he'll literally whine, digging his dull nails into your sides, holding on for dear life.

• He loves being called petnames. Serious and silly ones. His favorites have gotta be Love, Darling, Baby and pretty boy.. All the sappy stuff. One time you called him 'Gorgeous' and his frills shot straight out for a solid three seconds.. If he already didn't speak, he'd be speechless then. CUZ HES A GORGEOUS MAN.

Or that one time you called him 'fishface' and he just slumped in defeat when he heard you giggle, knowing that one was gonna stick around.

You'll enter the kitchen where hes making something to eat and just go "Hey, Fishface! So--!" Continuing to yap and he just rolls his eyes with a lopsided, lovesick grin u cant see from behind him. From anybody else it'd piss him off, but it's you, So he lets it slide.

• he has the warmest and weirdly softest fuckin hands ever. They're never clammy or sticky, just nice and toasty, perfect.

• is the type to grab your hands in the winter and rub them if theyre cold, trying to transfer his warmth over, even if hes also freezing. breathing hotly onto them.

• speaking of winter he probably HATES IT. He gets SO cold SO easy, hes shaking in his boots fr. A frozen fishstick fr. Like jesus. But the palms of his hands stay warm for some reason..

adding to that hes def a sweater fiend.. He LOVES knitted sweaters and hoodies and TURTLENECKS. HE'D LOOK SO GOOD IN A TURTLENECK. TELL ME IM WRONG. LIKE A BIG, FAT, KNITTED ONE THAT GOES UP TO HIS JAW. Even better if you knit/crocheted them for him <33

• I headcanon that his dad is a human and his mom is a fish person cuz he has hair and rounded teeth which other fishfolk we see don't. We don't see any other fishfolk from piltover tho.. So maybe hes just slapped on a wig, peel-off eyebrows and filed his teeth down (which is INSANELY painful btw) to look "socially acceptable". I HEAVILY doubt that, when i rascism like that ever shown in Arcane, Piltover specifically? 🤔 Im not even gonna get into that whole Vastaya thing cuz i dont know enough.. I heard they can decide how many animal features they show as they please and that they're like deeply connected to magic and live really long.. But that isn't mentioned or even nodded to in Arcane so im just gonna pretend that doesnt exist lol sorry

• but ya he adopted alot of his moms fishy features but also human-ish hair and teeth from his dad.

•speaking of his parents, i do feel like Steb was raised kinda strictly? Idk i just feel like his parents would be very uptight and that stuck with him all the way into adulthood, he stands super upright and is well proper while on the job because thats just what hes been taught.

hes alot more relaxed at home tho, where he knows he doesn't have to be or look presentable for anyone, especially not you. he knows you'll love him even while standing by the fridge in pj's, with a fist full of grated cheese ready to be devoured at circa 2 AM.

• He was raised in a small village on the outskirts, right beside the ocean. Hence he still adores it and loves to go swimming with you, reminds him of his childhood yk c:

• He kinda gives only child vibes to me? Idk the thought of him with an older sibling is kinda cute tho,, i imagine they'd be like complete opposites. They hardly see eachother,, I don't feel like his family lives in Piltover. He had a "Mom, Dad.. I'm 18 now..! I'm moving to the big city. And there is nothing you can do to stop me." Moment, exept in a less verbal way maybe, moving to the city of progress and begining medical and tactical training, to help people. On both sides.

• Hes really good at origami, sometimes when hes at work and droning at his desk with nothing better to do he'll just grab a random paper and fold a little swan together. You've found multiple critters like that scattered around the house, some with faces drawn on, just two inky dots and a derpy smile like this : )

Once he made one of your favorite animal and left it on your nightstand before heading to work, you picked it up and examined it, smile growing even wider when you found the hidden lovenote that was written on it <3

It's now glued neatly into your shared scrapbook/journal along with many more, surrounded by dried flowers and red hearts <33

Uhhhhhhhhhhhrghhhhhhhhhh yeah ❗️🚮 i just debated wether or not this is even worth posting for like twenty minutes.

Pls dont bash me for my opinions now *gulp*

Also heres a lil reminder that im taking requests 💗💗 i love writing i just never have good or original ideas :'o(

[sentientthing]

Reader adopts a big fluffy dog that's very opinionated, when and where walks happen is entirely the dogs decision. It's a good dog, perfectly pleasant but thick headed as a bull. Demands pets with authority a dog has no business having.

They love that mutt, got it from a shelter and doesn't have the heart to take charge when being a bit bossy is the only 'misbehavior' the dog ever shows, until it's walkie time in the middle of the night, new moon and cloudy, pitch black. Resigned you get the harness, leash and treat bag and bundle up. In a hurry to get the head of the house their wish you forget any kind of light, left your phone on your bedside table when you heard the grumbles of demands.

It seems to be a night for adventure, leash pulled taught in a direction you've never even walked by daylight and nose glued to the floor. The gates to a park at least let you know where you're going, not that you recognize the name, its far out of your usual range especially in the middle of the night. You cope by clinging to the 'scary dog privilege' even though the mutt never showed an ounce of aggression towards anything.

Looking around to not get caught off guard by a malicious stranger you miss your dog perking up, fixating a direction and taking off, the "STOP" leaves your mouth the second your body is jostled but its no use. You're dragged across the park, thankfully mostly grass but it still hurts. Digging your feet in is no use, hopelessly outmatched by the dog the shelter told you was perfectly sized for you. "Manageable my ass you stupid dog stop running!", you scream no care for time of day when you come to an abrupt halt, sliding a little on the muddy ground until someone grabs the leash and is immediately crowded by the traitor. All wags and tip taps, it'd be adorable if you weren't on your ass god knows where thanks to him.

"Bad dog thief if you can't even train one.", you can't place the tone, or read the strangers face through his balaclava. Thief? You would never steal someones beloved pet. "Fuck you, I'm no thief. He's from a shelter, if I wanted a free dog I'd get a stray." The amount of awkward eye contact that followed made your skin crawl, you shivered in discomfort from your mud caked clothes to the scary stranger starring you down. Was he not going to react at all? Your attitude had always been your biggest flaw. Why couldn't the floor just open up and swallow you whole? You were going to die for mouthing off for sure, or worse. "C'mon boy, home.", he was looking at you but definitely talking to the dog, voice even as he yankes you up by the leash and herds you after the dog happily trotting the way it came. Oh no, your dog was going to YOUR home, backtracking through the park, mindful of the grooves he, or rather you, left. Caring about tripping you now, between treating you like a crash dummy and a lamb to the slaughter.

The streetlights flickered back on one by one, the silent man at your back cast eerie shadows over you every time you passed one. You could barely breath, fear clogged your throat, choking you. Running was out of the question, he would catch you, no doubt in your mind. You didn't dare think about what your- well, his dog really would do. He might even be trained to bite, maul you to bits for the crime of displeasing his master. Tears threatened to spill over your lashes at the thought, you blinked them away as hard as you could, whatever he thought of you now wouldn't be improved by turning into a sobbing mess. No crying about whatever this was, you wouldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing you dissolve, if he wanted to he would crush you either way.

Your front door looked like a guillotine, the slanted window that once charmed you now made your stomach turn. You fumbled with the keys, hands shaking in helplessness. When they slipped your grasp, a gloved hand reaches out from behind you and catches them, palm up, the keys to your doom cradled in the hand of death. Slowly, you lifted your hand to take the keys back. The thought to stab him with them crossed your mind, but you had no follow-up. You stretched your fingers towards the house key. The next moment, you were crowded against the door and heard the keys jingle. The hinges protest when the door swung open. Unsteady legs carry you inside, mechanically taking off the harness and hanging the gear up in the dog corner.

The door clicks shut, and you refuse to acknowledge it in any way. Frozen in place, no useful thoughts in your head, your mind was screaming to do something anything at all. Time trickled by you in slow motion, for the first time you heard footsteps that weren't yours on your living room floor, the clicky noise of dog paws soon followed. Sounds from the kitchen startle you back into thought. That's where your knives are. He could take the damn fridge for all you cared right now, but you were not getting stabbed by knives you had picked out and paid for without a fight.

The sound of water hitting something metal had you confused, that weirdo did not follow you home to fill his dogs water bowl, that would be insane, and yet a few seconds later the water is being gobbled up loudly.

Something fills with water again, you're still looking at the slow swinging leash on the hook.

The stove beeps, the glasstop clinks quietly, something was placed on it.

Nails on the floor tell you the dog is scampering towards you, probably dripping water all the way. Soft fur brushes your fingers accompanied by the wet nose and tongue licking your hand. "You broken, pet?", leaning against the wall as nonchalant as the question he asked. The nickname had you glancing at the dog for a second before it clicked - this fucking guy dragged you around on a leash and called you pet like it was a normal thing to do.

You turned to give him a piece of your mind, freezing again when you saw him in the light. He'd been scary outside, dressed entirely in dark clothes and towering over you like a bad omen. In the light he looked downright terrifying, the skull print balaclava blending with his eye black, equally dark eyes looking at you with a bored expression, you had to guess. Good thing you hadn't tried anything, he looked perfectly able and willing to really hurt you. Not like how your bruised body ached from being dragged, real agony that would rip through you and fray every nerve you had. You were once again starring at each other, him waiting for a reply and you desperately trying to keep it together, whether you'd laugh or cry or attack him you didn't dare guess but something was boiling over.

The kettle whistles - you burst into a fit of nervous giggles.

[friedchops]

Toxic Suguru on the mind..

18+ MDNI - DEAD DOVE, baby trapping, fem reader, fwb, implied/referenced cheating, misogynistic content?

________

• Suguru who comforts you after your boyfriend dumps you. You’re a sobbing mess. You thought you two would be together forever, thought the ring was coming, that you’d be his wife.

• Suguru who strikes up a drunken deal with you after your boyfriend dumped you. You’ve both been lonely, pent up, needy, and you’re friends, have been for years. What’s not to love?

• Suguru who is the best partner you’ve ever had. Fucks you however you ask, be it gentle and slow, murmuring how good you feel, how well you take it, how beautiful you are, or hard and fast, telling you you’re made for it, he loves your body, never wants to let it go, ect

• Suguru who’s the best person to ever get aftercare from. He’s all loving kisses and running you baths and making sure you drink water.

• Suguru who can tell you’re wanting more, can see you glancing at couples in grocery stores, restaurants and rewatching rom coms, staring longingly at flowers, liking posts about baby fever

• Suguru who loves the cookies you bake, the leftovers you bring him to his work, the little notes you draw in his bathroom mirror.

• Suguru who knows you’d be the perfect little housewife/girlfriend/partner, just not for him.

Suguru can see it now. You, clad in a pretty little plaid dress, a baby on your hip, stirring dinner at the stove. Maybe your husband works white collar- he’s an accountant, works in finance, maybe even a lawyer, he makes clean money, good money. He’s vanilla. Brings you flowers. They’re always the wrong ones though, because that’s just how men are.

You’d be so proud of your pretty little diamond ring, showing it off on social media, fingers intertwined with your husband’s. The problem is, you’d get lonely. The kids would go to school, the silence of the house ringing in your ears. You’d get a pet cat but he’s too relaxed to care. You need attention. A special kind.

And unfortunately, your sweet, loving, pays-all-the-bills husband can’t make you cum. Not like Suguru could. He can fuck you, sure, but he can’t bring you to pure bliss. It’s fine though, he’s got money. Besides it’s too late, you’re married now.

Suguru can imagine some suburban chump coming home, calling you honey, baby, sweetheart, all the things Suguru used to. He can imagine you swelling with another man’s child.

No. He won’t let that happen. He won’t let you get that little taste of happiness.

It’s a terrible thing of him to do. To poke holes in his condoms. He just can’t imagine losing you, he can’t imagine letting you go. He knows you’ll be so scared, so disappointed. To have a child is one thing, but to have a child out of wedlock? Well, that’s frowned upon. But Suguru, oh, he’d hold you, rubbing soothing circles on your hips while you sob into his chest.

“My parents are going to kill me,” you manage between sobs, hands clutching the fabric of his shirt. He’s oily from a hard day at work in the shop, he’s older than you too, even if just by a few years.

“Shh, baby, I know,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, not letting you see the cruel glint of amusement in his eye. “I know, sweetheart.”

He’d take care of everything; the bills, the kids, you. the only catch? You might not get that ring. You might just get two kids and a codependent relationship. Or who knows, maybe he’d show you off, introducing you as his wife even if you’re just engaged, slapping a ring on your finger before your first prenatal appointment.

[ditzydoe444]

It would totally be free-use at home. He'd just bend you over and shove his fat cock in you, jerk himself off, tuck it back in his pants and walk off without a thought about you. You're so shy you don't even know how to ask him to cum, you just stay there, skirt at your waist, abused hole clenching around nothing. Maybe you stick your fingers in and finish the job yourself, it's pathetic and nowhere near as good as his cock, but it gets the job done. I can just imagine how rough he is, just bends you over the nearest surface, ruts into you, fills you up like the dumb cum dumpster you are are walks away, leaving you unsatisfied and crying, whining but not actually saying what you want. Sometimes he just plays with your pussy, fingers twisting, rubbing, and pumping, but never letting you come.

MDNI 18+

“doin’ so well for me sweet thing,” jason groaned as he thrusted deep inside you. every single time he came over you two fucked like rabbits in heat, doing it everywhere. the two of you tainted your whole entire damn house, every counter, couch, wall, and bed.

“s-so deep jay,” you whined as you gripped onto his shoulders tightly, your legs wrapped around his waist whilst your back was against the wall.

you were nothing but a toy for jason, just his to fuck and fill. however, at times when you were too shy jason would purposely not let you come. you were too shy to say what you wanted so he simply just wouldn’t give it to you.

“n-ngh!”

“so damn tight sweet thing,” jason grunted as his balls slapped against your ass, your frame bouncing as he thrusted into you.

“j-jacey,” you whined as you snuggled into the crook of his neck.

“h-hold it out for me yeah? let me fill you up.”

“so big!” you moaned as tears streamed down your face, your hole clenching around his cock.

jason was never one to let you come, you were too shy to tell him what you wanted, hence why he didn’t give it to you.

in a matter of seconds you felt him filling your cunt, his hot sticky liquid dripping out of you.

“that was great sweet thing,” he groaned as he pulled out, placing you back on the floor.

“b-but jacey i didn’t-”

“didn’t what?” jason questioned with his brows raised, staring at your pathetic sight of tears streaming down your face with your mascara and lip gloss all smudged.

“i didn’t-”

you didn’t know why, but you were always shy asking him to get you off, let alone telling him you didn’t come.

“never mind,” you whispered softly as he walked away, his part was done so why would he care about you?

you always ended up back in your bedroom with either your fingers stuffed up your cunt, or pathetically humping a pillow as you cried. you couldn’t even come, none of them compared to the feeling of his fingers curling inside you, hitting all of the damn spots.

so you were always a crying mess with his cum leaning out of your pathetic hole clenching around nothing with no orgasm.

[the-inkwell-variable]

author ask tag

thank you so much for the tag, @the-golden-comet! ooh this is gonna be fun!

i'm going to focus on my current wip, Why Should I Be Careful? I'm Going To Die Anyway! because it's still very much in the planning stages (despite how much I'm writing for it) and I have Thoughts

What is the main lesson of your story? Why did you choose it?

I'll be honest, I haven't really thought that far ahead. I suppose, if there is a lesson to take from WSIBC?IGTDA!, it might be that you should always chase your goals and desires, and screw what other people think. Maybe put a little more thought and planning into yours than Aura does hers, though. I mean, she almost dies due to her recklessness. Don't be like Aura.

What did you use as inspiration for your worldbuilding?

Well, it's a zombie book - I love zombies, in case you can't tell - so the world is an amalgamation of zombie stuff I love. The zombies are based off of the Train to Busan zombies. This is a self-insert mess, so I'm using the town and people I know in the town as location and characters. Little tropes here and there that I love in movies and books alike. It's just a big chimera of stuff that I grab from stuff I remember and shove into it. It definitely needs polish when it's done, but I'm having a blast so far, so I'm'a keep doing it :3

What is your MC trying to achieve, and what are you, the writer, trying to achieve with them? Do you want to inspire others, teach forgiveness, or help the reader grow as a person?

Uhhhhhh this is a tough question. Right now, Aura is trying to make it to Roger's Grocery Mart to save her girlfriend, but most of the time, she's just trying to have a good time in the zombie apocalypse and hopefully not die. She does eventually grow into a character that (mostly) thinks things through and takes other people's situations into account, so I suppose the lesson is "the world doesn't revolve around you - be kind and helpful to others"?

As for what I'm trying to achieve... mostly, to be honest, I just want people to pick up my book and have a good time reading it. I want to write a zombie book because it's my passion and because there aren't enough zombie books out there. I guess I'm trying to inspire others? To show them that you can survive an impossible situation if you work hard and think things through?

How many chapters is your story going to have?

The only time I've written a full-length book (sorry, the only two times, forgot about Zero: ALPHA), it had about twenty-odd chapters. Z:A had...uh...thirty? That was a long time ago and I sadly no longer have that draft. This one is going to go until it's done. Hopefully more than thirty though!

Is it fanfiction or original content? Where do you plan to post it?

Original content! I have no idea where I'm going to post it. I'm torn between Draft2Digital (originally Smashwords) or Substack. Thing is, I'm really bad at marketing and keywords and all that technical stuff that goes into publicizing, so I'm really hesitant to share it at all. I'm the type of person that gets absolutely morally devastated if my own self-inflicted goals aren't met, and I'm not sure if I can handle that kind of crushing heartbreak with this one lol

So yeah. Might publish, might not. Unsure right now.

When did you start writing?

My dad set up a Windows 95 computer for me in his office, his old one, and taught me the basics of using it. I was five, about to turn six. I immediately sat down and wrote a story about unicorns. I've been writing ever since.

I didn't start writing fanfiction until I was thirteen and had just binge-watched Lord of the Rings for the first time. We don't talk about those works. They were awful.

Do you have any words of encouragement for fellow writers of writeblr? What other writers do you follow?

Write it. Oh it's cringe? Who cares? Write it. Oh, it's a rare pair? Write it. You're worried people will hate it? Fuck the haters. Write it. Writing is about having fun. Writing is about pouring your soul onto the page. Writing is about getting those ideas out of your head so they don't drive you insane. It's about reaching that one person that finds your work and loves it. Even if no one reads it - you still accomplished something. You still wrote it. And no one can take that from you.

I have so many writers in my follow list. Uhh. I have no idea how many are still active, so I'm just going to tag who I know and hope for the best lol

@idyllicocean, @keeping-writing-frosty, @bloodtiesnovel, @asher-writes, @kitswrite, @theink-stainedfolk, @karkkidoeswriting, @lavender-gloom, @orphanheirs, @aquixoticwrites, @alinacapellabooks, @marlowethelibrarian, @flock-from-the-void, @dyrewrites, @storycraftcafe, @writer-imagination, @toragay-writing, @inseasofgreen, @stephtuckerauthor, @thatndginger, @finickyfelix, @eternalwritingstudent, @drchenquill, @paeliae-occasionally, @the-golden-comet, @talesofsorrowandofruin, @watermeezer, @goldfinchwrites, @winterandwords, @badscientist, @clairelsonao3, @i-can-even-burn-salad, @leahpardo-pa-potato, @mjparkerwriting, @rowanwriting, @oliolioxenfreewrites, @emelkae, @rita-rae-siller, @rebelxwriter, @kaylinalexanderbooks, @stesierra, @francineiswriting, @sunset-a-story, @chauceryfairytales, @hollyannewrites, @jaydenswaywrites, @captain-kraken, @violets-in-her-arms-writes, @romy-thewriter, @pure-solomon, @writingmaidenwarrior, @koiwrites

go, go follow them. they're all so good and make my timeline glow.

[k9divine]

fem reader x sub ada wong

cw ; oral & fingering (ada receiving), cum eating, mention of toy usage. kind of short.

“hush, baby… gonna make someone come in here.”

makeup smudges on her cheek, trembling hand clasped over her mouth to conceal the wanton noises that claw at her throat, desperate to come out. her thighs clench around your neck, black-painted nails clawing at the back of your neck in hopes of keeping her balance against the cold wall.

the strong muscle mass in your mouth swirls around her engorged clit, slick pooling in your palm and sliding down to your elbow as two of your fingers ram into her relentlessly. forcing the sound she’s definitely not supposed to be making out of her mouth.

“s’ .. oh, it’s too much. i can’t— hmn.”

coaxing a leg over your shoulder, soft lips close around the swollen bud. fingertips curling into spot that always makes her see stars.

it has her hips shuddering, tears of absolute bliss burning the corners of her eyes. glittery mascara and eyeliner all over the place. it only makes her more alluring. a moaning, writhing, mess.

“too much? honey, you’ve taken way more than this.” you laugh, the sound vibrating all her nerves in the right way. the way your tone is just a slight bit mocking makes her heart throb, fingers dragging up to curl in your hair. her nails take down your scalp, palm flattening against the crown of your skull to draw you in closer.

“or maybe it’s because i’ve been teasing you all night, hm? your fault, hon. you asked for it.”

oh, that’s right.

the panties hanging around her ankles have a butterfly vibrator resting atop the sodden fabric, still buzzing from not having been taken out too long ago. the part that was once inside of her was white and sticky, thick globs of creamy arousal settling on the silicone surface.

she’d been needy all day. hanging around you more than often, even inviting you to sit on her lap while she worked. hands running all over your body, lips kissing your skin every other second. it’s safe to say she put herself in this position.

but, here? at a formal event? this is not where she expected you to do it.

“i know i did, but it’s— fuucckk. i’m, i think i’m gonna..” her voice is wobbling, weak. her hand falling from her mouth because goddamnit—she just doesn’t care anymore. if somebody sees you two oh fucking well.

her words dissolve into unintelligible babbles, saliva spilling over her lower lip as she lets out a rather obnoxious mewl. face hot with embarrassment as she finally hears how she sounds herself. a little pathetic, but hey, you think it’s cute.

“coming for me, babe?” you moan, lashes fluttering as your turn your gaze up to hers. upping your effort times ten. you’ve got to make this one of the best she’s ever had, who knows when you’ll have sex (or just be intimate in general), again.

not so subtly adding a third finger, you push them in to the second knuckle. and it has her squirting. your mouth slow its attack on her clit to a stop to lap up her juices, drinking the fluid down like a woman starved.

your face is soaked with her essence, eyes squeezed shut as your slurp her up; cold hand sliding up her hip to press down on her stomach, feeling the taut muscles twitch and shiver beneath your fingertips.

once you’re sure her body’s calmed down, you carefully withdraw your efforts. pulling your digits from her gaping hole, kissing her pussy farewell before sliding her panties back over it. pocketing the toy in your purse to clean later when you arrive back home.

“was that good?” comes a snarky question, tearing a strip of paper towels off the roll to dry your face and her inner thighs. cleaning up as much as you can without the proper tools to do so.

“of course it was good. don’t flatter yourself with my inevitable compliments.” ada hisses, silently thankful you had the courtesy to wipe her down. she’ll have to thank you for taking care of her, later. “thank you, though.”

taking your hand in hers, she drags you out of the bathroom. delving back into the bustling crowd of business people, all standing and listening to some redhead’s speech. nobody has noticed your absences thankfully.

ada had always been easy when it came to you, so that was a plus, as well.

“i’ll have to return the favor.”

[maxdibert]

Yah so how the fuck did Remus manage to "forgive" Sirius? And why does everyone in the fandom always take The Prank as an opportunity to make Wolfstar angst... Like...no?

I'm sick of seeing posts that are like "Sirius going back to his house and having a breakdown" "Remus not talking to Sirius to Sirius sends him a letter about how sad and depressed he is because none of their friends are talking to him". Oh my gosh. ENOUGH OF THAT 😮‍💨

Oh no, the consequences to my own fucking actions--- No SHIT, Remus doesn't want to speak with you. WHY WOULD HE??? And people just completely shove Severus into the corner as if he wasn't also going through something. This fandom man...

Honestly, I’ve never been interested in Wolfstar, and not because I dislike the characters but because it doesn’t make sense to me. I mean, if I had to choose a pairing for Sirius among his friends, for me, it would clearly be James, because Sirius was literally obsessed with him. He wasn’t just his best friend; Sirius’ entire life revolved around James, and even 12 years after his death, he couldn’t move on, to the point of projecting James onto Harry and getting upset when he realized they were two different people. Look, Molly Weasley gives me the creeps, but she was absolutely right when she called him out, saying that sometimes it seemed like he wasn’t seeing Harry but James—because that’s exactly what was happening.

But beyond that, Sirius shows absolutely zero interest in Remus or at least zero empathy. It’s clear that if there was any glue holding the group together, it was James. James had more sense than the two ringleaders combined, or at least more common sense to know where the limits were. He was also the one who took care of Remus when he had nowhere to go after finishing school. My theory is basically that Sirius hung out with Remus and Peter because James tolerated them, and because having a werewolf friend gave him an excuse to act recklessly. If we look at SWM, Sirius remarks that he wishes it were a full moon because he’s bored. He couldn’t care less that for Remus it’s a traumatic moment each month, because for Sirius, it means going out, living dangerously, and messing around with his friends. What’s a trauma for Remus is an opportunity for fun for Sirius. He doesn’t consider what it represents for his friend; he doesn’t show that his reason for becoming an animagus is to provide moral support. Instead, he’s WISHING for the moment his supposed friend dreads most because, for him, it’s an exciting event. That’s not appreciating someone—it’s seeing them as a means to an end, a tool. That’s pure utilitarianism, not friendship.

Now, let’s move on to the facts. In “The Prank,” Sirius doesn’t care about the consequences. He thinks it’s funny and is totally thoughtless because that’s just who he is—someone who was never taught about morals or ethics and who basically chose a different “side” than his family’s just to spite them. He’s a rebellious and chaotic spirit who despises snobbery, and that’s about it. There’s no deeper philosophy, no deconstruction. Deep down, he behaves like any other Black, believing he has the right to control others—whether it’s ending someone’s life if they’re “stupid enough to fall for the trap” (Severus, in this case), which he justifies by saying they deserved it, or using others for his malicious ends (Remus). It’s James who has a modicum of conscience and who thinks about the consequences, stopping Severus because James was taught values and understands that certain lines shouldn’t be crossed. But also, I think James genuinely cared about Remus and probably understood what it might mean for him to end someone’s life.

Then there’s the post-Hogwarts relationship. Remus is always portrayed as being very close to the group when canonically, Peter was the one who was always trailing James and Sirius like a cheerleader. Ultimately, they chose Peter over Remus to be the Secret Keeper. This happened because CANONICALLY, Remus had distanced himself from the group, and CANONICALLY, it was Sirius who suggested Peter because he didn’t trust Remus—thinking he might have joined the dark side. This wasn’t something that came from Lily or James; it came from Sirius. Sirius was the one who considered that Remus might have betrayed them. Is that really what a true friend would think? How can people even consider there’s chemistry or a sexual subtext between them when canonically, Sirius repeatedly demonstrates that he doesn’t care about Remus at all? He only starts paying attention to him years later, after escaping Azkaban and realizing his best friend is dead, and his personal cheerleader turned out to be a traitor who ruined his life. Then, when only the two of them are left standing, Sirius starts giving him attention—but only because he’s the last one left. That’s it. Even Rowling herself described Remus ages ago as “the third wheel in a two-person relationship,” referring to Sirius and James. Seriously.

And let’s not forget that Remus never doubted that Sirius could be a traitor either—he always believed him guilty. It’s funny when they’re portrayed as missing each other, but missing each other from what? Remus thought Sirius was scum the whole time! And how could he not? He’d seen Sirius be cruel, even sadistic, and show zero remorse. It’s no wonder it fit for him to think Sirius had lost his mind.

As for how Remus handled all this, it’s no mystery: Remus is very similar to Severus in terms of his position. He was a vulnerable kid clinging to any lifeline to keep a low profile and feel safe. Sirius and James provided that safety—they made him feel protected and accepted. He never raised his voice or questioned their decisions because the mere thought of being rejected terrified him. Even as an adult, he keeps justifying their crap because he’s clearly incapable of going against those who gave him a place when he needed it. Remus is also a terribly cowardly man—he doesn’t have the guts to confront things. He has a super avoidant personality, which is crystal clear when he leaves a 13-years-younger pregnant woman because he can’t handle the pressure. A 17-year-old kid has to make him come back—is there anything more pathetic than that? At 38? Sirius clearly hurt him, but Remus knew that confronting Sirius meant confronting James, and if James had to choose between the two, he would always choose Sirius. So it wasn’t in Remus’ interest to speak up or express how he really felt because the idea of losing the protection that came with being their friend was far worse than feeling like crap over what Sirius did. That’s it, plain and simple.

Honestly, it’s such a shame and a total waste that everything gets reduced to couples and absurd adolescent dramas when the dynamics among those four “friends” are fascinating because they’re built on pure power relations and are deeply dysfunctional. But instead of exploring that, which I find genuinely interesting, it all gets thrown away, their personalities are rewritten, and it’s all turned into cheap teen soap operas. But whatever.

[comatosebunny09]

— cw: shitty ex, fighting, equal rights, equal fights, sylus being your savior, language, clit stim, praise, friends to lovers

Your boyfriend’s been sneaking around, entertaining other women via social media and texts. He always gaslights you when you confront him about it. This time, you’re about to catch him in the act.

You tail him to a bar. Sidle up to where he’s seated, arm slung around a pretty little thing’s shoulders. She’s shocked when you plop down. She’s seen your face before. Knows you were with him. He lied, saying you broke up months ago. Mentally, you did.

You’re cool about everything at first. Laughing, ordering drinks like your soon-to-be ex and his tenderoni aren’t watching you with their jaws on the floor. He’s a piece of shit, anyway. Always stealing your money, flaunting like he has it all, living in your house, driving your car. You’ve been in survival mode since you started messing with his fuck ass. Don’t even know why you gave him the time of day. Maybe you were punishing yourself. Felt like you deserved a guy like him. 

He says something to set you off. Mentions you living off your parents’ money like you haven’t worked your ass off to distinguish yourself from their name. 

So, you fight him. 

You’re a tough bitch. Know how to take a punch and how to land one. Equal opportunity, baby. You don’t give a fuck that he’s a man. You cave his shit in, and you beat him so bad, the cops are called. You’re subsequently kicked out of the bar.

You’re waiting on the curb, everything settling in. The adrenaline’s fading and your knuckles are pulsing. He got you good on the jaw. Tears scorch your face. Don’t even notice you’re crying until you’re laughing hysterically and tugging your phone out of your pocket. All bleary-eyed and slowly losing your shit, you call the one person you know will have your back and won’t snitch to your older brother.

You’ve been avoiding him long enough. Don’t want him to see you like this, but you know his influence will help you dodge a pair of cuffs and that he’ll take care of you. Your brother’s rich bestie—practically your brother, Sylus.

He’s surprised you’re calling him so late. Or at all. But he senses the distress in your voice even though you’re doing your best to stifle it. He simply asks for a pin and tells you to hang tight. Clothes rustle through the static. Keys jingle. An engine roars to life. Your knight in shining fucking armor.

He pulls up in his glossy muscle car as red and blue stain your sight. He talks the police down when they near you, tight-lipped with hands perched on their weapons. He ushers you into the passenger seat of his car after he’s thrown around his influence—the son of a deceased billionaire, a respectable man of the community, owning 90% of the city. 

His coat’s big around your shoulders. Swallows you whole. But it’s so very warm and smells so good, like petrichor and the freshly broken skin of clementine. 

You’re crying again when he eases the car onto the street. He doesn’t say a word, stone-faced in your peripheral, grip white-knuckled on the polished leather of his steering wheel. You tell him it isn’t heartbreak. You’re just frustrated that murder is illegal. He tells you it’s illegal for you. You laugh, voice all sticky, eyes puffy. He’s smirking in the rearview.

He’s not gonna kill your ex, is he?

He brings you to his penthouse—one of many, you’re sure. Lets you shower in his massive walk-in shower, lends you some of his clothes. He smooths his hand over the ripples of your spine as you swing in and out of misery, staining his shoulder with your tears, snot, and spit.

You’ll buy him another shirt—you promise. He smiles, and his eyes crease with it. He tells you it’s no biggie. But you feel like you owe him more than a shirt. 

At some point in the night, your hysterics abate. Now, you’re just laughing, fueled by embarrassing anecdotes about when you were a teen, all knobby-kneed with a mouth full of metal. You tell him you’re proud of what he’s become. That he’s made a name for himself without his father's influence. You’re envious. 

He’s grown so strong and tall. Still has the face of a supermodel. He tells you you’ve grown more beautiful. Aged like vintage wine. And you’re still a little spitfire, just the way he likes you.

You don’t know what pushes you. What compels you to place a hand on his thigh, angle your face a little this way, and kiss him. But you do. And he doesn’t deter you, cupping your cheek, pouring the most relieved sound into your body. 

Hell freezes over thereafter. 

You had a little thing for him when you were younger—your brother’s seemingly stoic and untouchable bestie. He had a soft spot for you back then, too. Softened even more when you reunited at a friend’s funeral. He couldn’t get you out of his head ever since. You didn’t want to get him out of yours despite being with that shit stain you called a boyfriend. 

He’s got you on his lap, spread nice and open for him. One massive hand’s busy tweaking your nipple through the cotton of your—his—shirt. The other’s between your thighs, rubbing your clit in slow, methodical circles. He’s swallowing the cute little keening sounds you make. Kissing you, hot and breathless, tongue licking into your mouth. 

He’s red-faced and painfully hard against the cleft of your ass. You’re grinding against the bulk of his cock in time to the rhythm of his fingers. 

He’s talking you through it. So dirty. So pretty. Sticky. Wet. Good girl. Feels so good. So hot. Take it. Take it. He grazes your ear with his teeth and sweltering breath. A hand clasps around your throat. Not cutting off airflow but serving as a reminder of his unfair advantage over you. You feel safe nonetheless. Wanted. Exalted where your ex only fucked you for his own gain.

His mouth hangs open over yours. It’s overwhelming, how he feels, his body heat, his voice. If he keeps talking to you like that—cum for me. Please. Want you to. Need it so bad. I know, baby. I know, but you’re doing so good. Almost there? Yeah? Like that?—you won’t last. 

You’re seeing stars before you know it. Phosphenes dancing behind your shuttered eyelids. Legs shaking, mouth hinged open with his name on your lips. Clawing at his kneecaps, up his thighs, humping against his fingers as the rush overcomes you. 

He’s whispering a litany of praise between blistering your throat with kisses. Still stroking your sticky, swollen clit. Did so good. So proud of you. Pretty baby. You grab his wrist when the pleasure borders pain to still him. Laugh, all tenuous and tired. He kisses you, honey-slow and loving. He’s enamored. You are, too.

You remember that he’s hard. Pushing against the seam of his slacks, spurred by your pleasure. You’re eager to reciprocate. Turn around in his lap, tugging at his belt. He halts you with gentle hands scorching the backs of yours. Not now, he rasps, kissing you again. You’ll have plenty of time to pay him back later. For now, he wants you to rest. The night’s been your enemy up until this point. He’s fucked you within an inch of your life on his fingers, sapped the rest of your energy.

He carries you, bridal style and pliant, to his bedroom. Tucks you beneath his silken sheets, smoothing some hair from your sleepy face. Scarlet eyes shine with youthful tenderness. He kisses you as if he intends to siphon all the heat from your body. Peels away, watching your lashes flutter until you surrender to the wispy croon of sleep.

His mouth is rigid when he slowly shuts his bedroom door behind him. He snatches up his coat, his car keys. There’s someone he wants to visit before his night’s complete. And it won’t be hard to find said person because Sylus is sure you’ve done a number on his face.

When you get a story idea in the middle of writing a story.