#it’s just impossible it can’t be done

[keeryhours]

Sucking Eddie’s cock is an experience. Every time.

He’s so weak for it. When you get on your knees in front of him he groans immediately, eyes half lidded as he watches you kneel before him. He watches as your hands unbuckle his belt before undoing the button of his jeans and sliding the zipper down. He lifts his hips for you to help you pull his pants and boxers down and release his cock, thick length slapping against his stomach and precum already leaking from the tip.

“God, princess, y’look so pretty on your knees for me.”

When you wrap your hand around his cock, it twitches in your hold, his hips involuntarily thrusting up into your fist. You slowly drag it along his length, his cock smooth and soft while also impossibly hard. Your thumb pays extra attention to the vein on the underside of his dick, just the way he likes.

“Fuuuuck. Shit, that feels good. Yeah, keep moving your hand jus’ like that. Stroke that big dick, baby.”

He knows he’s huge. He gets off on watching you struggle with it, the way your hand can’t wrap all the way around it, the way you gag and choke taking it down your throat, the way tears roll down your face as he stretches you out around him.

“Too big for you, princess? C’mon, you can take it. You always do.”

When you wrap your lips around his tip, he sighs in relief, hand tangling in your hair. He pushes you down on him, thrusts his hips up into your mouth, watching the way you gag and sputter around him, struggling to take him all.

“Fuck, yeah. Yes baby. Thas’ it. So fuckin’ sexy with my big cock in your mouth. You can barely fit it, can’t you, baby? ‘s okay, you’re doing so good. Taking me so well.”

His praise only spurs you on, and you open your mouth as wide as possible as you lower your head, taking every inch of him until your nose is pressed against the curls at his base. He thrusts up into your mouth again, and you quickly pull off, making him laugh darkly.

“C’mon princess, try again. I know you can do it.”

You take him in your mouth again, this time bobbing your head along his long cock and taking as much of him as possible. You managed to take him all the way each time, and it had Eddie falling apart above you.

“Shiiiit princess, yes, yes, yes, keep doing that. Don’t stop, please baby. Need you to keep sucking that cock. Need you to take all this cum down your throat.”

You get sloppy with it, because he fucking loves that. Drool slipping from the corners of your mouth, getting his dick nice and wet. The sounds you make around him are obscene, wet and hot and so fucking filthy.

“Yeah, get real messy on it baby. You know how I like it. So good, princess.”

As he gets closer, his whines become high and desperate, his cocky facade fading the closer he gets to his high. He grips your hair tighter, his chest heaving with his breaths, thighs trembling beneath your hands. He starts fucking your face, not caring anymore about being rough, only thinking of his own pleasure.

“Fuck fuck fuck princess, keep taking it, yeah thas’ it, fuck, baby I’m so close, keep suckin’ my cock just like that. Gonna cum in your pretty little mouth.”

You want that, badly. You start moving faster, deeper, and his whines and whimpers are bordering on pathetic now, but it only encourages you. You take him all the way one last time and he holds you there, groaning as he pumps his cum into your mouth and down your throat.

“Shit! Yes yes fuuuuck, take it, take it, take every fucking drop of my cum. Take it baby, doin’ so perfect, yes fuck yes-“

When he’s done you pull off of him, tongue darting out to lick the remaining bit of his cum from the tip of his cock, making him shudder. He looks down at you with wide eyes, breathing heavily, completely fucked out.

“God, princess. You’re fucking perfect.”

[cloudwisp]

Caleb and the constant yearning for you to need him and to hear the words coming from your lips. He’s already given you everything he could think of, protection and safety that makes you feel so insulated from the world. But when you need him for something else entirely that goes beyond the boundaries of your close relationship, it feeds into his appetite that he won’t be able to control if you continue to keep this up.

What started as a playful wrestle for the remote turned into you pinning him on the ground, your faces impossibly close so that you could feel the warmth of his breath blending with yours. You have the upper hand yet you’re right where he wants you as tension crackles between you and him. The shared glances clouded with lust make the intentions known when they slowly flit and linger for a sweet taste. He doesn’t have time to process before softness embraces his lips and he surrenders all senses to you.

Caleb has dreamt about this for a long time. How it would feel to squeeze the flesh of your hips and pull you closer to him, how he would respond to swallowing your moans against tongueful kisses as you lose yourself humping his warm and growing arousal in his pants. He feels so dangerously good under you, making you crave more when his hand travels beneath your shirt and teases you by tracing the underside of your breast with his thumb.

You both eventually come up for a desperate inhale to return air back into your lungs. Your cheeks flushed and parted lips swollen as you gaze down only to receive an amorous stare back at you. He chuckles softly, a smile making way and his palm cups the side of your face. “You know, I didn’t think you had that in you. Not that I didn’t enjoy the kiss... it was nice.”

His hand lowers and brushes the pad of his finger along your bottom lip. And new thoughts emerge like how your mouth would feel wrapped around his thumb as he gently presses down on your tongue. “You’re beautiful, have I ever told you that?”

“Caleb… I shouldn’t have done that. I don’t know what came over me.” You glance away amidst the heat of your embarrassment, and you still feel lightheaded from the remnants of the intense exchange. Some things can’t be easily undone once you start them, and yet you feel an overwhelming urgency to kiss him again. His shirt crumples around your clenched fist while your mind tries to make sense of your suppressed feelings for your childhood friend.

“Hey, hey. You didn’t do anything wrong, princess.” He carefully shifts you onto your back, tilting your chin to make you face him again. “Just tell me what you need and I’ll take care of it, hm?” He tests your reaction by hooking one of your legs over his hip and his knee slowly parts your thigh causing your breath to hitch when he makes contact with your clothed clit. He leans down to plant light kisses on your forehead, his fingers curling around the waistband of your skirt tugging at it playfully. “Can you do that for me?”

It’s adorable to him, truly. How precious and vulnerable you look with those eyes full of longing because you also share the same burning desire for something more with him. When you grant him consent with a small nod of your head, he promises that he won’t hold back pouring every ounce of his love and devotion into you that he has withheld for too many years.

[velarisdusk]

No Room for Error

Azriel x Reader

word count: 1.5k content: [ explicit sexual content, unprotected PIV, az does not pull out (as is typical with my fics lmao), hate sex, explicit language ] summary: Your heated argument with Azriel during a mission turns into an unexpected, yet not first-time, encounter in a broom closet. author's note: AZ AND Y/N SPIES AZ AND Y/N SPIES AAAAAA i've been wanting to write this one for a while, i'm happy it's finally in existence somewhere outside of my brain and writing drive lol ✦ . Masterlist . ✦

“You really couldn’t wait to make your move, could you?” you snap, frustration leaking into your voice as you shift again, the small space feeling tighter by the second. “We’ve been plotting this mission for months, Azriel.”

“I’m getting the job done, aren’t I?” His tone is dismissive, the usual bite to it harsher. “Maybe if you focused less on talking and more on following orders, we wouldn’t be in this mess.”

“Following orders?” You scoff, pressing back against him involuntarily, even though you’re not sure if you want more space or less. “Maybe you’d actually listen to me if you stopped thinking you know everything.”

“I do know everything,” he growls in your ear, a dark edge to his words that makes something inside you tighten. “But you’re too busy trying to prove me wrong to realize it.”

“I’m not trying to prove you wrong,” you retort, voice sharp as you shift against him again. “You’re just impossible.”

His breath huffs against your skin. “And yet, here we are,” he murmurs, tone low, barely hiding the edge of amusement. “You’re not exactly walking away.”

“This is ridiculous,” you mutter, shifting uncomfortably in the cramped space. “I should’ve completed twice as many missions as you by now. This was supposed to be my assignment, not yours.”

“Keep telling yourself that,” Azriel snaps, his voice tight with annoyance, the tension between you both palpable. “Maybe if you didn’t rush into things all the time, you’d actually finish your missions instead of barely scraping by.”

“I don’t need you to tell me how to do my job,” you retort, clenching your teeth as the walls feel like they’re closing in. “I’m just fine without your help, Shadowsinger.” You spit out the title like it’s venom, though the words feel hollow as soon as they leave your mouth. The competition between you two was fierce—always had been.

“It’s not about help,” Azriel mutters, shifting just enough that you feel his presence even closer. “It’s about keeping up. You always think you can do everything on your own, but in the end, you just screw it up. It’s like you're trying to outdo me for the sake of it.”

“Outdo you?” You laugh bitterly, barely able to move without pressing into him. “I’ve been outdoing you for months, Azriel. You’re just too arrogant to see it.”

His laugh is low and dark. “If you were outdoing me, we wouldn’t be stuck in this closet right now, would we?”

“Oh, you think this is my fault?” You almost scoff, your words dripping with irritation, but the heat between you is undeniable now, thick with more than just frustration. “Maybe if you didn’t play the lone wolf every damn time, we wouldn’t be here.”

“I didn’t play ‘lone wolf,’” he growls. “You’re just too proud to accept I’m better at this than you.”

Your hand moves, fumbling to adjust—or maybe to steady yourself—and the shift in position has Azriel’s breath catching. The sound sends a rush of heat through you, though you’re still unwilling to admit it aloud.

“Better than me?” you ask, voice dropping dangerously low, your lips curling into a sharp, humorless smile. “That’s rich, coming from someone who’s been riding my coattails for months. Admit it, Azriel, you can’t stand that I’m winning.”

His hand tightens at your waist, and his next words are spoken with deliberate, biting calm. “Winning? You’re delusional. You’ve never beaten me, and you never will.”

Your lips part for another retort, but the words die on your tongue, the sound morphing into a moan as he moves. The shift in position presses him against you in a way that makes your breath hitch, his body hitting that spot deep inside you.

A faint sound of footsteps outside the closet snaps you back to reality. You barely have time to register it before Azriel’s hand is covering your mouth, his fingers warm and firm against your lips, stifling any sound you might make. His other hand grips your hip harder, pulling you even closer as he continues to thrust into you, each movement making you feel him deeper, the rhythm brutal and unforgiving.

“Do you want them to hear you?” he growls low in your ear, his voice dripping with dark amusement. “Want to fuck up the mission? Want to give us away?” His voice is tight with barely-contained pleasure, his breath hot against your neck. “You better keep quiet, sweetheart. We can’t afford mistakes.”

You can feel the cold leather of your pants bunched up at your thighs, the heat of his body pressing against you, the sensation of him pushing against you with every thrust, sending jolts of pleasure that make it even harder to keep silent. Your body trembles beneath him, every instinct screaming for release, but the fear of getting caught only makes the tension sharper. 

A desperate whine escapes from your throat, muffled by his hand, and you feel him pause. The sound of footsteps somewhere outside the closet slows, a beat of silence hanging heavy in the air. His breath hitches slightly, but his grip moves up to your waist, and then, in one fluid motion, he presses his hips harder against you.

“Am I going to have to tell Rhys that you cost us months of work?” His words are a dark tease, but the edge of warning lingers in his voice. He pulls back, only to thrust forward again, his hips grinding into yours with slow, powerful force, each movement designed to make you feel every inch of him, to make sure you can’t forget for a second what’s happening. “Think about that, sweetheart. All of this… for nothing.”

Your breath catches as he shifts again, his rhythm turning into something deeper, more intense. The tight space only heightens the feeling of him—every inch of his body pressed against yours, making it impossible to escape the raw heat between you. He grinds into you again, his control slipping as the pressure mounts, but his voice stays dangerously low.

The footsteps outside fade, growing softer as they move away from the door. Azriel’s grip loosens slightly, and he pulls his hand from your mouth, his breath ragged against your skin. You can’t hold back anymore. 

“Please, Azriel, don’t stop, I need it,” you whine, the words slipping out before you can stop them, desperate for more. 

His response is immediate, cold, and calculating. “You don’t need anything. You want it.” His tone is firm, void of any tenderness. “You always want more, don’t you?”

Before you can answer, he shifts again, thrusting into you with a deep, controlled force that makes your body seize in response. His fingers dig into the flesh of your hips, using the grip to pull you onto him again and again.

“Tell me,” he murmurs, voice low but commanding, “do you always beg like this? Is this how you get Rhys to give you assignments I’m the obvious choice for? Or am I the only one who gets to see this side of you?”

Your heart races, his words swallowing you whole. But you’re beyond caring now, beyond anything but the feeling of him inside you. His hips grind into you with a brutal, possessive rhythm, and you can’t help but let out a moan, your back arching as you press against the wall. You can feel the pressure building, every part of you straining for release, but his control is absolute, keeping you on the edge, making you ache with every moment. You know you can’t hold back much longer. 

With a final, deep thrust, he shudders, his body tightening as he finishes inside you. His breath is heavy, ragged against your neck, and he pauses, just for a moment, as if to savor the feeling of you beneath him. 

Azriel pulls out slowly, his movements deliberate, and you feel a brief emptiness where he was. Without a word, he tucks himself back into his pants with calm efficiency, as if there were nothing out of the ordinary. 

“Pull your pants up,” he says, his tone cool, detached. There’s no hint of the intensity from moments ago, as if he can shut it off in an instant. 

You blink, the haze of pleasure clouding your mind as you slowly process his words. What? You’re still trying to make sense of everything when he pulls back as far as the cramped broom closet allows, glancing at you with that unreadable expression. 

“We’ve got shit to do,” he shrugs, voice colder now, businesslike. “Maybe I’ll stop by your room tonight.” There’s a dangerous flicker in his eyes as he says it, but it’s gone before you can even react. 

He opens the closet door and steps out, holding a hand out to you. You hesitate for a moment, still reeling, but you take his hand, letting him pull you back out into the hall. 

[rodolfoparras]

Dudebro who offers to give you his best friend a blowjob- whether it’s because he notices you’ve been pent up or because you just haven’t gotten with anyone in a while and at first your looking at him like he’s gone insane, maybe even suspecting he’s been drinking before he got to your place but for whatever reason you let him have his way and at first you expected a bit of hesitation a few tentative licks to your tip,maybe for him to gag on it but as soon as he gets his hand around you he’s taking you all the way down his throat making your eyes roll into the back of your head, hips immediately jerking, before you’re fucking up into his mouth, doesn’t mind the rough pace like many other girls have done in fact he seems to enjoy having your balls slap against his chin and having your fat tip mercilessly jab against the most sensitive part of him, you can even feel his fingers digging into your hips to push you impossible closer to him - as if you aren’t buried so deep he’s got the tip of his nose buried in your fringe of curls and there aren’t tears spilling from his eyes and drool and cum all over the shirt and pants he’s wearing , And when you think you’ve seen it all he starts gargling on your balls, loud obscene sounds rolling off his tongue and he’s lapping on your thighs to make sure he gets everything that spilled from his mouth, like he just can’t get enough and when you finally cum down his throat he’s looking at you with a smile on his face cheeks lips and face a sticky mess but no an ounce of shame on him

[butternutt613]

PSA!!! IT IS OKAY TO CHANGE YOUR STORY HALFWAY THROUGH OR TO NOT HAVE IT BE PERFECT!!!

Fanfic writers (myself included) are way too hard on ourselves sometimes. I was chatting with a few amazing creators on Discord about this, and I realized just how much pressure we put on ourselves to make everything perfect.

Let me remind you: it’s completely okay if your story isn’t flawless right out of the gate.

The way I see it, fanfics, and most things posted on AO3 or Wattpad are like first drafts. ESPECIALLY!!!!! when you’re still actively writing your story. You’re still figuring things out, shaping the narrative, and building the world. It’s not set in stone, and it’s okay to make changes as you go. Hell, completely rewrite it!

So many of us get caught up in trying to make our stories perfect from chapter one because we’re scared that if it’s not, no one will read it. I experience imposter syndrome so hard lol

But NEWSFLASH!!! Even published authors don’t create flawless stories from the start. Their first drafts are messy, full of edits, rewrites, and changes. Entire chapters get cut, characters get reworked, and sometimes entire backstories get scrapped. AND THEN!!! EVEN WHEN THEY THINK THEY ARE DONE!!! THEIR EDITORS GIVE THEM 39 THINGS TO CHANGE!!!

If that’s how the ‘pros’ do it, why are we holding ourselves to an impossible standard?

And I’m going to be so real with you right now… 99.99% of the time, the characters we write about aren’t even canon or have never even interacted in canon or only had 2.3 lines of dialog (I'm looking at you, Jegulus….)

That’s the magic of fanfiction. You get to create something ENTIRELY NEW. You get to take these characters and give them experiences and a life the og author never did or never could. Fanfiction is about imagination and creation, not about rigid rules.

There will always, ALWAYS, be someone who says "you're doing it wrong” or “that character wouldn't do that” and I'm sorry to break it to them but idk if you know this but… THEY AREN’T REAL!

If I want these two guy best friends to kiss, I will! If I want my MC to save Anne by perfecting Isadora’s magic, I will! If you want Ominis to say “fuck you” to his family or Sebastian to become a healer or an auror or a potions master, then GODDAMMIT YOU DO THAT!

BECAUSE YOU ARE WRITING YOUR STORY!! It is YOURS, not anyone else's. You’re the author. Your creative process is valid and so is your work, even if you decide to change direction halfway through. (Elsa was originally going to be evil…)

There will always be haters. Even when something is canon, there are people who’ll criticize it (seriously like look at flat earthers….) That’s why you can’t let the fear of criticism hold you back. Write what YOU love. Create what brings YOU joy. The right people will find your work and appreciate it for what it is.

At the end of the day, fanfiction is about expression and connection. Whether you’re writing for an audience of hundreds or just for yourself, it’s yours. You’re building a world, shaping characters, and sharing something that came from your heart. And that’s what makes it meaningful. So stop being so hard on yourself. Keep WRITING. Keep CREATING. KEEP COMING UP WITH FUN HEADCANONS!!!

Your story deserves to be told. And you deserve to have fun and love doing it.

*mic drop* *peace sign*

[harrywavycurly]

Handle With Care: This Can’t Be Happening

Masterlist: here

CW: language, Harry is a bit of a dick

A/N: Harry is still a bit of an asshole but he is trying his best😂

Tag List: @gmikaelson @ell0ra-br3kk3r @tulips4harry @mellamolayla @mads3502 @empathyroad @idk199o @sassamanda77 @maudie-duan @macy-tpwk @coralferrio1

Summary: Avoiding you just got hell of a lot harder for Harry 📦✨

Harry is screwed. If he thought avoiding you while moving you into your new apartment was going to be hard then what he has to deal with now is damn near impossible, because as his luck would have it your new apartment is in the same complex as the one he just moved into not even two weeks ago. So his plan of never having to see you again after he places the last box on your new kitchen counter quickly goes down the drain because while the complex is big it’s not big enough for him to never have to risk bumping into on the elevator or the mail room that’s on the first floor.

Of course Niall is oblivious to Harry’s struggle as he stands in your new living room surrounded by boxes, having what Harry can only describe as the longest and most pointless conversation ever because all Harry wants to do is leave and go down two flights of stairs to his own apartment. As far as Harry is concerned they’ve done their job and he should be free to leave but he knows he can’t, Niall will have his ass on a silver platter if he so much as takes a step towards the front door.

“So you’ve got a couch and all that comin’ tomorrow?” Niall asks making you just nod as you stand in the kitchen that opens up to the living room.

“Yeah I have a couch and a coffee table I just need to uhm borrow my friend’s truck and go get it.” You answer as your eyes briefly dart to the box that has a fragile sticker that is upside down meaning the whole box is upside down. Harry instantly feels his hands get sweaty because he knows that’s the box he dropped, he can see you looking at it from where he’s leaning against the doorframe of your bedroom.

“You’re gonna load it and move it all by yourself?” Niall questions with a raised brow and you just shrug and of course just as you look over at Harry he decides to roll his eyes making you quickly look away. But he wasn’t rolling his eyes at you, he was rolling them at the way Niall is doing everything but ending this job like he’s supposed to be considering your three hours ended fifteen minutes ago.

“I was going to ask-”

“We’ll do it for you.” Harry feels his eyes nearly pop out of his skull as Niall so casually offers the two of them to move your new couch and other furniture for you. “Free of charge of course because I have a truck we can use and Harry doesn’t have shit else to do tomorrow right H?” Niall asks just to confirm as he turns to look at Harry who is doing everything in his power not to freak out on the blonde Irish dude he sometimes calls his bestfriend.

“Tomorrow? That’s my day off.” Harry states making sure his annoyance is evident in his tone, but of course Niall ignores it and just rolls his eyes.

“Exactly so you don’t have shit to do.” Harry feels his hands ball up into fists at his side as Niall turns to look back at you with a smile. “What time works best?” You open your mouth as if you’re going to say something but then close it as you look over at Harry who is glaring at the back of Niall’s head with his jaw clenched and his brows furrowed in what you can only assume is in anger.

“Thank you for the offer but it’s okay I’ll figure it out on my own.” Your voice is soft and the smile you give Niall is sweet and it makes the weird fluttery feeling start up in Harry’s chest.

“For fuck sake just tell us what time to be here.” The look of shock on your face is only there for a moment before you compose yourself and Harry honestly can’t tell who is more embarrassed in this very moment, you or him. He didn’t mean to sound so rude and annoyed because he’s not even annoyed with you, he’s annoyed at the man standing in front of you but naturally Harry can’t seem to get himself under control while you’re around so it came out harsher than he intended.

“Does eleven work for you love?” You just nod instead of saying anything and Harry knows it’s because you don’t want to say anything that might set him off and he wants to hit himself because he really doesn’t want you to be worried about upsetting him when all he’s done today is upset you. “Perfect we’ll see you then. Just text me if you need to change the time or the day okay?” Harry takes a few steps towards your front door as Niall walks over to you and gives your shoulder a friendly pat making you smile as you look up at him.

“Thanks.” Niall just returns your smile and gives you a little nod before he turns and heads for your door that Harry is standing in front of. “See you tomorrow.” With that Harry quickly opens the door and steps into the hallway, making his way towards the elevators while Niall quickly follows behind him.

“Harry I swear m’gonna proper kick your ass if you don’t tell me what the fuck is going on with you.” Niall’s voice is harsh as he stands next to him while waiting for the elevator. “You’re never that big of an asshole to people you don’t even know and what’s with the faces?”

“What faces?”

“Your face it’s all-all scrunched up like you just got a whiff of something foul.” Harry lets out a sigh as he runs a hand over his face, if only Niall knew the truth. That Harry makes that face because he’s getting hit with a scent he doesn’t think he’ll ever get enough of, one he would happily be wrapped up tightly in for the rest of his life because it’s just so you, the smell of flowers and sunshine.

“There’s just something about her that’s throwing me off that’s all.” Harry tries to explain without sounding crazy, but Niall doesn’t buy it for a second because next thing Harry feels is a hand giving him a hard smack upside the head.

“Throwing you off? Just admit you fancy her and get on with it.” Before Harry can even deny the outrageous claim the elevator doors open and Niall walks in and pushes the parking lot button letting the doors close as Harry stands there with a look of annoyed shock on his face.

“Fuckin’ prick.” Harry mumbles to himself as he turns on his heels and heads for the door that leads to the stairs so he can meet Niall down by the truck.

“Oh shoot.” Harry freezes as your voice floats into his ears just as his hand grabs the doorknob to the entrance of the stairwell. You look like you ran to the elevators from your apartment because your cheeks are a little flushed and your hair is falling from the bun you put it up in halfway through the move. “I’ll just take-” your voice gets caught in your throat as you turn and see Harry standing at the door to the stairs.

“That’s mine.” He looks down at the hat in your hands with a quirked brow, not remembering when exactly he took it off.

“Yes I was uh bringing it down to you it-it was on my bed.”

“You could’ve just waited till tomorrow to give it to me.”

“Oh you’re coming tomorrow?”

“Well yeah? Niall can’t move a couch by himself now can he?” Harry doesn’t think he’s ever been so mad at himself than he is in this moment as you just nod and hold the hat out for him to take, your eyes looking down at the floor for a second before looking back up at him.

“Right. But I just figured you wouldn’t want to spend your day off helping me so I thought he’d find someone else instead.” You flinch at the way Harry practically snatches the hat from you before he places it on his head backwards just like he had it when you first saw him outside your door.

“Yeah well he doesn’t have anyone else to ask. So I’m stuck doing it.” He snaps and in this moment Harry truly thinks he’s possessed because next thing he knows he’s opening the door to the stairs and walking through it letting it slam closed just a few inches away from where you’re standing as he starts making his way down to the parking lot.

“Everything will be fine. I just need a shower and some sleep.” He tells himself as he does his best not to think about the look on your face as the door closed or the fact he already misses the way your apartment smells.

Everything is very far from fine for Harry the next day, having forgotten to set an alarm he finds himself cracking his eyes open at ten till eleven. So naturally he is scrambling to get out of bed and dressed with no time to even make himself some coffee before he is opening his front door and sliding his phone into the back pocket of his jeans so he can meet Niall in the parking lot. Normally Harry is very observant, he rarely ever finds himself running into things or people but in this moment as he’s stepping out of the elevator he is still half asleep and the lack of caffeine is kicking him right in the ass so it’s not shocking that he crashes into someone just as they are entering the complex from the parking lot.

“What the-” Harry thinks he must be dreaming or maybe he’s stuck in a nightmare because when he looks down to check what or who he just collided with he’s met with a bouquet of flowers on the ground and your big eyes staring at him.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t looking and-and I didn’t mean to run into you.” Now Harry isn’t a genius but he is smart enough to know that you aren’t the one who should be apologizing right now, he’s the one who barged out of the elevator without looking up to see if anyone was getting on.

But like the asshole you think he is, he just stands there not knowing what to say of how to process the fact he just rammed into you making you drop your flowers on the floor. He watches you bend down and try to pick up the bent stems and gather them into your hands, he sees the way your mouth droops into a sad frown when you pick up a few petals that fell off some of the flowers. Harry knows he should help you, tell you it wasn’t your fault and that he was in a rush and not paying attention but before he can even try to do that the door to the parking lot swings open and in walks none other than Niall who has an annoyed scowl on his face as soon as he sees Harry who is still just standing there.

“Harry what the hell? Been waitin’-what happened? You okay love?” You just stand up with the broken flowers in your hands and give Niall a small smile, one that Harry can tell isn’t genuine.

“I’m fine just clumsy that’s all.” Harry rolls his eyes at your cover story annoyed you didn’t just tell Niall the truth, that Harry ran into you and made you drop something because that’s all that he can seem to do when he’s around you, be an asshole who breaks your things.

“Harry are you just gonna stand there like a useless bag of dicks or you gonna move the fuck outta the way so she can get in the lift?” Niall’s harsh tone and rude words come as a shock to you but Harry is used to this kind of treatment when Niall has really reached the end of his patients with him. Harry just moves to the side allowing you to get into the elevator, you shoot him a soft smile that he has to ignore or he’ll get distracted by the way it makes his insides feel all warm and fuzzy so he just looks at Niall and takes a step towards the door that leads to the parking lot.

“I need coffee.” Niall rolls his eyes at Harry’s statement as he turns and follows Harry out into the parking lot while you press the button for your floor. The doors close but not before Harry quickly looks over his shoulder and catches your eyes and he tries, he really does try to give you a smile but Niall’s hand on his shoulder giving him a shove makes it turn into a bit of a scowl making you look away just as you disappear behind the metal doors.

“How the hell are we going to get her shit if she’s not with us?” Harry asks as he gets into the passenger seat of Niall’s small pickup truck.

“She texted me the address of the place and what all we are picking up for her. Didn’t see the point in makin her come with since it’s just a couch and a coffee table.” Niall’s answer makes sense, but it doesn’t sit well with Harry and he knows it’s because he doesn’t like the fact you and Niall have been texting like you’re good friends with each other while he can’t even seem to simply smile at you like a normal person.

“Well I need coffee before I can even think about moving a couch or a-”

“Yeah yeah you’ll get your damn coffee quit your whining.”

Harry just lets out a huff as he crosses his arms over his chest while Niall heads off in the direction of wherever it is you’re getting your living room furniture from. He takes this time to try to figure out why exactly you make him turn into the worst version of himself, he’s never acted like this around someone before and it really is starting to bother him. Harry hates the idea of you sitting at home thinking of all the ways he’s been rude to you, when in reality all he’s wanted to do is be nice and maybe find reasons to be around you all the time so he can get his fill of what’s becoming his favorite smell.

You try to busy yourself as you wait for Niall and Harry to show up with your couch and coffee table, deciding that you should take this opportunity to start unpacking your kitchen. Starting with the boxes on the counter you begin to put away your various glasses and cups, moving them around a few times until you finally find the perfect cabinet for them. When you get to the box that has the upside down fragile label you let out a sigh as you open it up just to find your plates and a few bowls broken, even though you took extra care and wrapped them in bubble wrap it wasn’t enough to help them when the box got dropped and somehow placed upside down.

“It was an accident.” You mumble to yourself so you don’t go feeling upset at Harry, even though you’re sure he wouldn’t really care if you were upset with him or not seeing as he doesn’t seem to like you very much. You pick up one of the broken plates and put it on the counter so you can see if anything managed to survive in one piece when you hear voices coming from behind your front door.

“Are you even lifting?”

“What? Yes I’m lifting you wank now just be a doll and get the door will ya?” You laugh as Niall’s loud voice makes its way through the door, you quickly walk over and unlock the front door allowing you to open it just as Harry was reaching for it.

“Shit.” Is all you hear before Harry practically falls into your apartment making Niall drop his side of the couch when he sees Harry go down and land flat on his bottom while the couch slips out of his hold.

“I’m so sorry I didn’t-”

“Oh don’t worry about him he’s fine.” Harry shoots Niall a glare as he stands up so he can bend down and grab his side of the couch. “Doin a bit of unpacking huh? That’s always the worst part of moving.” Niall says with a smile as he lifts his side of the couch while Harry begins to walk backwards through your door, you just smile and nod as you move out of their way so they can place the couch in the living room.

“Yeah I thought it would be smart to start with-”

“What’s all this?” Harry feels his cheeks get hot as Niall walks over to your counter and points at the broken plate as he takes a look inside the box that’s full of broken dish ware.

“Uh I accidentally dropped it.” Harry hates how effortlessly you keep covering for him, how you don’t even bat an eyelash or miss a beat as you take responsibility for whatever messed up thing Harry’s done. “But it’s fine it’s just a few plates.” You explain as Niall turns to look at you with a hand on his hip.

“She didn’t-”

“Would either of you like a donut?” You ask just as Harry was about to tell Niall the truth about the box, you look from Niall over to Harry who just quirks an eyebrow at you. “I uhm got them this morning while I was out getting a few things.” Niall takes a moment to look at the way you and Harry are staring at each other before he shakes his head.

“That’s real nice of you love but I’m good.” He says politely declining your offer, you look away from Harry and smile as you head back into your kitchen.

“Uh Harry? Would you-you like one?” You hate how nervous you sound as you hold the box out, you know he’s just going to say no or possibly not say anything at all and just head out your front door to go grab your coffee table. So when he just stares at you and gives you the smallest nod before he takes a few steps towards you all you can do is stare at him in shock.

“Thanks.” He mumbles making you smile and feel your cheeks go a bit pink as he reaches a hand out and grabs one from the box. You feel silly for letting one simple word make you feel all smiley and giddy but you can’t help it since it’s the nicest thing he’s said to you since meeting him yesterday morning.

“Right well we have one last thing to grab and then we will be outta your hair.” Niall’s voice snaps Harry out of his trance as he swallows thickly and turns to head towards your front door, donut in hand. You just nod and close the box and turn to place it back on the counter so you can get back to unpacking.

“Oh you’ve got it so fucking bad mate.” Niall teases once the two of them are down the hallway near the elevators.

“I do not.” Harry snaps before he takes a bite out of his donut and if he was alone he would’ve let out a sigh at how good it tastes.

“Harry I watched your eyes practically turn into hearts when she asked if you wanted a donut so don’t try to lie to me.” Niall watches with amusement as Harry just rolls his eyes as he finishes off his donut, in record time because he doesn’t think he’s ever tasted anything so good before.

“You’re so dramatic you didn’t see shit.” Is all Harry can say as the two men enter the elevator, and Harry has to remind himself that Niall doesn’t know he’s the reason your plates and flowers are ruined. Because if he did then Niall wouldn’t be convinced he has feelings for you, he would be kicking his ass for being such an asshole towards you.

“Whatever you say lover boy.” Niall wiggles his eyebrows when Harry looks over to send him a glare and it’s in this moment that Harry begins to wonder if maybe, just maybe Niall could be right. What if he does have some kind of infatuation with you and that’s why he’s acting the way that he is, but then Harry begins to think of all the things he’s said and done to you that would make you want nothing to do with him and he feels as if his heart is dropping to his stomach as he lets out a sigh.

“She’s way too nice for me.” Harry mumbles mostly to himself just as the doors open and Niall leads the way to the parking lot having no clue the internal struggle his bestfriend is having over the thought of the girl who lives two floors above him not liking him because of all the horrible things he’s done in the short time he’s known her.

[revelboo]

Omg all your Megatrons have me swooning but this Lost Light Megs has me feral!!! ❣️❣️ This old man needs smoochies

He does! And then some

18+ mass displaced mech 🌶️

Invisible Monsters Pt 9

MTMTE Megatron x Reader

• Big servos slide up your body and one hand cups the back of your head and tugs you down to him. His head lifting as he meets you, mouth finding yours. And a low, rumbling growl spills from the big mech sprawled under you. Lips sliding against yours and the hand on your hip is almost bruising. Probably will leave bruises, but you can’t bring yourself to care when his lips part against yours, that hungry kiss becoming urgent. Making a surprised sound when his palm slides up your body, rucking up your shirt so his servos can find skin.

• You’re soft and warm straddling him, your scent filling his head with every intake. And your mouth moves against his, your wicked, little tongue sliding against his glossa. Growling a protest when you break away and strip your top coverings off and his hands slide against you, mapping out your impossibly soft skin. Doesn’t want you to come to your senses and change your mind. Can’t understand why you want him, even knowing what he’s done.

• Trying to lift up off of him to finish stripping, his servos tighten on your hip with a growl, that rumbling sound making you shiver as it goes through you where you’re sprawled on him. “I promise I’m not going anywhere.” Those red optics are bright as he offers you a crooked, little smile. Almost looking embarrassed as he allows you to finish stripping. And the way he’s staring at you, optics sliding lazily over you, makes you feel self conscious. Know you’re as alien to him as he is to you. And you’re honestly not a hundred percent sure how this is going to work. Watch him sit up as you awkwardly try to hide yourself with a hand as he grabs your wrist and tugs it away.

• Keeping a grip on your wrist, he lays his palm on your belly and slides it over a hip. Down along the inside of your thigh. “You’re soft everywhere, aren’t you?” He asks, servo stroking you just to feel you tremble against him. “Warm and slick.” Voice dropping to a rough snarl as he slowly explores you, pressing a servo inside you and gritting his denta at the way your warm flesh grips his servo. And he can scent you. Gripping your thigh, he hooks it over a shoulder and you gasp, hands landing on his helm when he vents against you.

• He’s not about to- he is. Whimpering when his lips brush over you and both of his hands grip your hips to hold you steady. Fingers gripping his helm, you shudder as his glossa slides against you. Breath hitching, you fight not to rock against him as he teases you with his mouth. “Megatron, please.” Torn between embarrassment and arousal when he vents against you and his glossa finds you, driving inside. And you can’t care that everything’s on display, that his mouth is on you. “Please.” Shivering, your hips buck when he growls, servos digging into your hips. Needing this, him.

Previous

[deansapplepie]

Use your hands

Summary: Javier can’t resist your manicured nails.

Pairing: Javier Peña x Reader

Warnings: Javier Peña, NSFW, smut, making out, handjob, male masturbation, nails kink (?), hand kink, needy Javier, maybe subbish vibes from Javi (but not really), spit, pet names in spanish all around, oral male receiving (kinda). Minors do not interact, 18+.

A/N: sorry not sorry, Pedro liking manicured nails gave me ideas.

Main Masterlist

Javier Peña Masterlist

Javier and you had agreed to go for dinner with Steve and Connie. You agreed to meet after work, but Javi didn’t know about your evil plan. To be honest you hadn’t even planned it this time, it happened innocently. You went to the Beauty Salon earlier that day to do your hair and nails to go on this double date without thinking much about it. You chose your favorite color which happened to be his favorite color on you, but you swore it wasn’t on purpose.

When Javier and Steve arrived you were already sat by the table having a conversation with Connie about daily life. He came to you and kissed your temple. “Hola, corazón. How was your day?” He asked as he sat by your side and took your hand in his. Before you could answer he was talking again as soon as his eyes met your beautiful hands and done nails. “You had your nails done. This color suits you so well…”

“Did you like it? I really didn’t think much about it.” You shrugged. Whoever listened to your conversation would see it as an innocent one between husband and wife, but you knew better than this. You knew something had shifted in there.

“It’s beautiful, mi amor.” He kissed your hand, his warm breath and lips imprinting in the back of your hand.

During the whole dinner, Javier couldn’t just sit still. He was restless and the fault was on you and your pretty hands. Because of that, once you stepped home and he closed the door, he got you pressed against it and his lips on yours. “Why did you do that, nena?” He asked his lips hovering yours.

“What? I did nothing.” You answered breathlessly.

“You know what. Painting your nails so pretty and the color you know I like on you.” He pecked your lips, peppered your jaw… “You’re such a tease, it can’t go like this…”

“What are you going to do to me?”

He laughed dryly. “Me? Cariño, I’m doing nothing. You’re going to work to pay for this.” He pressed his bulge against you, impossibly hard, just waiting the whole night to be relieved by you.

He picked you on his arms and sat on the couch, you straddling him. He kissed you one more time, he could never get enough of you, but he had urgent matters at hand. Or better speaking at your hands. He stopped the kiss, you almost whined at the loss. “You know what to do, amor. Use your hands.”

Your hands traveled from his face down his neck and shoulders. You stopped when your hands reached his chest, your delicate fingers working on the buttons of his shirt, you needed to see your man’s torso. “That’s not the place I want your hands on, corazón.”

“A girl can indulge herself, can’t she?” You replied as you opened his shirt completely exposing his chest, your hands tentatively reaching his pants. You slipped your hand on top of his crotch making him hiss. He was so hard, he was probably in suffering. “Don’t worry, cielo. I’m taking care of you.” You said, the spanish endearment word rolling easily from your lips after all those years of marriage.

You unbuckled his belt skillfully and following it you unbuttoned and unzipped his pants, sliding it and his briefs together down his legs. He sprung against his abdomen proudly standing. So pretty and tempting, you really want to shove it inside your mouth and savor it.

Your hands gripped it delicately, but for Javi it felt so intense he groaned and had to hold himself to not start bucking his hips against your hands. Your delicate fingers around him and the colors of your nails contrasting to his skin made the act look so glorious that he was ashamed to say he could cum just with the sight. You moved your hand along his shaft till you reached the tip, red, angry, asking to be ravished. You smeared some pre cum that was already leaking but you’d need more. You looked up at Javier and expectation covered his face.

You started opening your mouth and before you could do anything he spoke. “Don’t use your mouth, nena. Only your hands.”

“Tempting, but I wasn’t.” You replied and once again opened your mouth letting spit fall from it and hit his rocking hard cock.

“Fuck…” he groaned. “Bebé, you’re gonna kill me.”

You smirked. He was going to live, he never died of it. Your spit ran down his length in a very slow pace. With your delicate manicured hands you ran his length up and down spreading the humidity along him, making your job easier. One hand was never enough, you always needed both to pleasure him.

Rhythmically you moved your hands up and down while he observed you working on him, sometimes you went slower, others faster and from time to time you gave some attention that the head and also to his balls. “Do you like it, babe?” You asked, your hands torturing him in a teasing pace.

His hips bucked against your hands, his cock moving on its own in your fists. “I love it.”, he practically whined. Your hands felt so good around him, you already knew him so well… you were the only one that could make him feel this good. He had one addiction and it was you, he could never get tire. “Faster, amor. Faster.” He begged.

You’d do anything for him. You increased your pace, your hands frantically moving around him. His pre cum leaked some more helping on the process, and you ads spit to it other times although you’d rather have it inside your mouth. As if the gods had listened to your prayers, Javier spoke. “Nena, open your mouth. I wanna cum in your mouth.”

Eagerly you opened your mouth taking him inside, the warmth of your cave welcomed him so well. If he could chose, he’d like to die like this. Inside you or in this case inside your mouth. He was holding a little letting you have some fun, he knew how you enjoyed going down on him, sucking his tip as if it was a sweet succulent fruit just to little by little take his length on your mouth, your plush lips looking so pretty around him while your hands hold his base and his balls, sometimes his thighs. The way your eyes would fill with tears when he hit the back of your throat…

He started twitching inside your mouth, his groans increasing, he was so damn close! Some ministrations from you and trusting from his hips and he was coming down your throat while you made sure nothing was wasted.

As he descended from his high, he brought you back to his lap, tangling his fingers in your hair and kissing you passionately. “Te amo, mi Reina.” He said with devotion, his forehead against yours, like he had done many times before, and you would never get tired of listening to it.

“I love you too, mi vida.” You replied as always.

[frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe]

you | for @steddiemicrofic January prompt new

pairing: steddie (duh) | word count: 517 | rated: M | on AO3

The next morning, Steve finds himself awake much earlier than he would’ve liked; the light of the new day filtering through the blinds is still tinged with early morning darkness.

For a moment he just breathes it in.

Only a handful of hours before, he was alone.

Only a handful of hours earlier, he was convinced that the thing he wanted most in this world would always be an impossibility.

Now though, these wholly insignificant amount of hours later, he feels a shift in gravity beneath him, the warm body beside him pushing up to turn over.

“Sorry,” he whispers, “Did I wake you?”

Eddie blinks blearily over at him; his brow is scrunched in confusion, like he’s not quite sure how he got here.

“You okay, Ed?”

Eddie grunts, letting his weight fall unceremoniously onto Steve’s chest. “Mrmph.”

Steve chuckles, and Eddie shifts again, tilting his head up to poke his chin into the meat of Steve’s chest instead of his nose. “You’re thinking too hard.”

“Hmm.” he hums, snaking an arm out from under his boyf– lov– frien— out from under Eddie and over the soft planes of his back. “Go back to sleep, Teddy.”

Eddie’s nose smushes into his pec once again, and Steve can’t help but laugh, his chest causing Eddie to bounce slightly.

“Mmrughph!” he complains, louder this time, flopping an arm over him and pressing down slightly to stop him moving, “Tryin’ t’sleep, here.”

“Sorry, sorry.” Steve chuckles, squeezing Eddie tight to him. He shifts, and Eddie presses himself the rest of the way to him, his leg hooking over one of Steve’s and settling between them.

Eddie soon goes boneless again, Steve feeling each point of him as it gets heavier with sleep.

He lies there, with Eddie in his arms, and thinks.

Thinks about how they would never have been here now if not for Eddie’s penchant for popping up at Steve’s house randomly. That if he’d had anything else to do tonight, he wouldn’t’ve waltzed in just after dinner. That if Steve had any better hearing than he does, Eddie wouldn’t’ve walked straight into Steve’s room mid-jerk.

The utter horror of being walked in on (by his newfound crush no less), did absolutely nothing to quell the heat blazing through him, nor did it deter Eddie from recovering quickly enough to shut the door, lock it behind him, and climb onto the bed between Steve’s legs.

“This all for me, big boy?” He’d asked, voice low and eyes dark.

And for some reason, all Steve could do was laugh.

Laugh at being caught, laugh at Eddie’s complete acceptance of what was happening, laugh at his complete lack of hesitation.

Steve laughed, Eddie’s face started to shift from sultry to panicked, and Steve had sat forward and pulled Eddie to him, kissing him soundly.

They’d moved against each other for hours; kissing, grinding, coming, laughing some more.. It was the least scary a new thing had ever been.

Eddie shifts beside him again, “Whatcha thinkin’ ‘bout?” his leg hitches higher, feeling the effects of Steve’s reminiscing.

Steve smiles, “You.”

i haven't done a microfic in a while.. nor have i even writen/posted something in a while!! brushin off the cobwebs today apparently lmao

buy me a coffee? ☕

[hyunjusgf]

“Love/Hate”

pent up hate sex with the gf :3

fem!reader x cho hyun-ju

nsfw

note: hiii >_< so there was this one request (it won’t let me answer it for some reason, so the request could be attached to this, but yeah) where the reader and hyun-ju have pent up hate with each other + they end up hate fucking. i’m so sorry to the person that i couldn’t attach their request to thissss, i have no clue what’s going on with tumblr and i wrote this on my phone instead of my laptop this time :( i’m writing hyun-ju before she finished her transition :p i have another one-shot written where she finished her transition, so that will be posted soon ;3

⊹ ࣪ ﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ࣪ ˖⊹ ࣪ ﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ࣪ ˖⊹ ࣪ ﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ࣪ ˖

You walked through the front door, slamming it behind you; before your girlfriend could get inside. You were completely mad at her and did not want anything to do with her. You kick off your shoes, having them lie around on the living room floor instead of putting them away.

“Why are you treating me like a child? I’m not a child, I don’t need you babysitting me out in public every second! I can take care of myself.” You yelled as you walked into the kitchen.

Hyun-ju opens the door and walks in, now proceeding to close the door behind her.

“Y/N, I’m not babysitting you. I’m just trying to help you out, why won’t you take my help?” She asked as she takes off her shoes, now placing them on the shoe rack and follows you to the kitchen.

“The least you could’ve done was place your shoes on the shoe rack like a normal person instead of trying to trash the place up.” She added.

You open the cabinet where you store the liquor and as you try to reach for the bottle of vodka, but Hyun-ju wraps her hand around your wrist; yanking your arm away from the bottle and she closes the cabinet with her other hand. She proceeds to push you against the kitchen wall, her larger figure completely covering yours; making sure it was impossible for you to escape.

“Now love, you completely know better than that. No drinking when we’re mad at each other.” She says, but you could care less about what she had to say.

You pushed her away, “You’re not the boss of me, you can’t tell me when I can or can’t drink!” You screamed.

As you’re trying to leave the kitchen, she grabs you by your waist; now lifting you up and placing you on the kitchen counter. Proceeding to pull your pants down, revealing your black lace panties. She gets done on her knees, leveling her face to your core and she spread your legs out.

“Oh?” She said softly.

“But I can,” she whispered softly as she pushed your panties to the side, revealing your entrance and instantly slides her digits inside you. She wasn’t gentle at all, her digits were deep inside you; pumping them at a fast pace, causing you to throw your head back as your hands gripped onto the edge of the counter: trying to hold on for dear life.

She looked up at you, a smirk appearing on her lips in satisfaction as she watched you try to suppress yourself.

“What happened to you being loud?” She asked as her mouth hovered over your clit, her warm breath causing you to squirm a bit.

“I thought we were yelling, now you’re not.” She added.

You looked down at her, she was ready to eat you out right then and there as she was fingering you.

Her digits were hitting all the right spots, noises instantly leaving from your lips as you felt her tongue press against your clit; now licking your clit as she curled her digits against your g-spot.

You moved one of your hands from the edge of the counter and moved it behind her hand, tugging on her hair as you pushed her head into your core more as she picked up the pace.

“Right there..” you cried in sensation, your needy noises covering the entire kitchen.

She could feel that you were close, she could feel your walls tightening around her digits. Your legs started shaking slightly as you began to reach your climax and as you were just about to release yourself: she removes her digits from inside you and instantly moves her face away from your heated core.

You looked at her, “Why did you do that for?” You asked as you try to catch your breath.

She couldn’t help but chuckle, “Because I can.”

She got up from the floor, and as she was about to leave the kitchen. You got off from the countertop and grabbed her arm then dragged her out from the kitchen to the bedroom, opening the bedroom door with your free hand.

“And what are you doing?” She asked as she looked down at you.

You said nothing but giggled, you carefully pushed her on the bed then climbed on top of her. You sat on her crotch, now tugging on her shirt.

“My turn,” you whispered as you moved your hands down to the hem of her shirt and lifted her shirt off of her body: removing her shirt and tossing it to the side.

You wrapped your arms around her shoulders as you leaned in to kiss her, slightly grinding against her crotch as you made out with her. You could feel her cock underneath you getting hard as you kept grinding against her.

You pulled your lips away from hers, and moved off from her crotch as you unwrapped your arms from around her shoulders. You moved yourself down to her pants, unbuckling the belt, unbuttoning them, and pulled them down along with her boxers.

Her cock instantly sprung free and you looked up at her with a smirk on your face.

“You get hard easily,” you chuckled then you wrapped one of your hands around it as you gently kissed the head. You opened your mouth, instantly taking her whole inside your mouth.

Hyun-ju’s eyes widened as she watched you take her whole, your head moving upward and downward as you were blowing her.

She groaned softly as she slightly threw her head back, her hand getting tangled in your hair. You looked up at her and saw that she was enjoying herself, tugging on your hair; urging you to keep going.

She bit her bottom lip, trying to hold herself together to not let go but she wanted to. Her cock slightly twitching inside your mouth as she grew closer to releasing but you stopped and removed her cock from your mouth, wiping the line of saliva that got left behind.

You stared into her eyes, you could tell her was mad; she was not having it.

“Y/N,” she said.

Before you could reply, she grabbed you bought you close to her and moved her mouth close to your ear.

“Just you wait.” She whispered and she moved down to your core, slightly tugging on your panties as she removed them off from you then tossed them to the side.

She then wrapped her hands around your waist and picked you up, sitting you down as her cock slid into your entrance with ease causing you to gasp.

“Shit,” she murmured as she guided you at a slow pace.

Her hands never left your waist, she stared deep into your eyes; maintaining eye contact with you, enjoying feeling herself inside you. Little whines escaped from your lips as she started thrusting from underneath you, feeling the head of her cock kissing all the right places; making you see stars.

“Yeah? Right there, love?” She cooed as she helped you pick up the pace.

You tried your best to form your words, but you couldn’t. The only response she could get from you were your cries of pleasure as you felt yourself inching closer and closer. Your walls tightening around her length, the cries of pleasure growing louder and louder by each second.

She could feel herself getting close too, her cock twitching inside you, her groans growing louder until the two of you released in each other.

Hyun-ju moved her hands away from your waist, onto your face, cupping your cheeks and kissed you deeply then pulled away with a soft smirk on her lips.

“Oh love,”

“We’re just getting started.” She finished and removed herself from inside you then flipped you over, your back now pressing against the bed.

“I hate you,” you whispered.

She then inserted herself again, now placing her hands on your waist as she began roughly pounding into you.

“Fuck!” you moaned loudly as you threw your head back.

“What was that?” Hyun-ju asked.

“I didn’t hear you,” she finished as she continued to pick up the pace, moving herself deeper inside you.

Nothing but the sound of the bed creaking, the cries of pleasure filled up the room for hours. Never reaching a stopping point until both parties agreed that they no longer hate each other after the argument they had.

[roselilies]

WEST SIDE ⟢ GOJO SATORU

╭┈─ Pairing ⺌ ፧ Gojo Satoru x Fem!Reader

╰╮⺌ Synopsis: Inspired by “West Side” by Ariana Grande, Gojo Satoru just wants to feel and pull you away from your busy day. No thinking, no distractions, just time with him.

─── ⌕𓈒 Genre, Word count: needygojoneedygojo, 1.7k

“Y/n,” he greeted, his voice carrying a playful lilt. “You’ve been at it for hours, you’re not gonna stop for a break?”

You were in the middle of explaining a technique to Megumi, Yuji, and Nobara when the door to the classroom creaked open. You looked up instinctively, eyes narrowing at the interruption.

Gojo Satoru stood there, framed by the doorway with his usual swagger, hands casually tucked into the pockets of his uniform. His blindfold was in place, as always, but you could tell by the tilt of his head and the way his body seemed to hum with energy that he wasn’t here for anything professional.

You shot him a look that conveyed your irritation, but Gojo was used to it. You’d been in the middle of a lesson, one that required undivided attention, and you didn’t need Gojo coming in to stir things up.

“I’m working, Gojo,” you replied firmly, turning back to the chalkboard, your hand still moving as you continued your lesson with the students. “We’re not done yet.”

Gojo, however, wasn’t deterred. He leaned against the doorway, his smirk widening under his blindfold, like he was enjoying how you were trying to remain focused despite him being a very obvious distraction.

“C’mon, Y/n. You’ve been at it all morning.” He stepped into the classroom without waiting for an invitation. “I’m sure your students can survive without you for a little while.”

Yuji, ever the eager one, glanced between you and Gojo, picking up on the subtle tension. “Is everything okay, Y/n-sensei? He looks like he’s gonna drag you away,” he teased.

Nobara raised an eyebrow, her lips quirking into an amused smile. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen you two like this. You sure you’re not getting a little too comfortable?”

You shot them both a warning look. “Class is still in session,” you said, trying to steer the focus back to the lesson. But Gojo’s presence was undeniable. His confidence filled the room, and you could feel the shift in the atmosphere.

Gojo walked over to you, his presence now filling up the space between you and your students. He was impossibly close, his body just a hair away from yours as he reached out, lightly tapping your chin with a playful finger. “You know, you’re all work and no play. Come on, just a little break,” he urged, voice lowering slightly, his playful tone laced with an underlying softness that only you could catch.

Megumi, who had been mostly silent until now, finally spoke up, a slight smirk tugging at his lips. “You’ve got to be kidding me. Are we really going to have to deal with this during class?”

Gojo glanced at him, his smile widening even more. “What? Can’t a teacher enjoy some one-on-one time with their colleague?” He winked at you. “Or do you need me to officially interrupt the class to get your attention?”

You sighed, looking at your students, who were clearly entertained by Gojo’s antics. Despite their distractions, they were still attentive enough to learn, but you could feel your own focus starting to wane under Gojo’s intense attention.

Your eyes flicked back to Gojo, and you couldn’t hold back a sigh of exasperation. “Gojo,” you said, your voice losing some of its edge as you realized he wasn’t leaving anytime soon, “We can talk after class. I’m busy.”

Gojo’s expression softened, and he stepped closer, his hand resting gently on your shoulder. His touch was light but confident, grounding you despite the chaos he’d caused in the classroom. “You’ve been ‘busy’ all day, Y/n. I’m not gonna let you stay all stressed out while I’m here.”

Your students had long since abandoned their attempts at focusing on the lesson, watching the interaction between you two like it was some kind of show.

Gojo turned his head slightly, speaking directly to your students with a mischievous grin. “Don’t worry, kids. Your sensei’s gonna take a break. I’ll take her off your hands for a bit.”

He looked back at you, a knowing gleam in his blindfolded eyes. “C’mon, don’t make me drag you away from these kids. They’re fine without you for a while.”

With a frustrated but fond sigh, you turned back to your students. “Alright, class is dismissed for today. Go ahead and review the techniques we went over. I’ll catch up with you later.”

Nobara, always the cheeky one, smirked at you. “Well, guess you two are heading out for some quality time then. Have fun.”

You shot her a look, but Gojo didn’t give you the chance to reply. He was already pulling you toward the door with that signature grin of his, his arm casually around your shoulder as he tugged you away from the classroom and into the hallway.

“See?” he said softly, as if the world had just been waiting for you two to be alone. “Was that so hard?”

You rolled your eyes, but a small smile tugged at your lips. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

Gojo just laughed, his voice warm and genuine. “Impossible? Nah, I’m just persistent. Now let’s go. I’m not sharing you with anyone else today.”

As you walked out of the classroom with him, you couldn’t help but laugh under your breath. Despite how stubborn and needy he was, you had to admit, you couldn’t quite resist Gojo’s way of pulling you into his orbit.

Gojo continued to tug you along, his grip on your shoulder firm but easy, like he knew exactly how to pull you into his world. You could feel the weight of his presence, the playful energy radiating off him as he led you through the halls of Jujutsu High.

You both turned a corner, heading down a hallway you didn’t recognize. Before you could ask where you were going, Gojo stopped at a door and opened it with a simple push, pulling you inside. The room was dimly lit, cozy, and quiet, far different from the bustling halls outside. A small sofa sat against one wall, and the windows were partially open, letting the soft breeze in.

Gojo closed the door behind you with a quiet click, his hand lingering at the knob before his focus shifted entirely to you. The air in the room felt different—charged with the energy that only he could bring. You’d been running around all day, attending to your duties as a teacher and sorcerer, but now, with Gojo in front of you, everything else faded.

“You’ve been busy,” Gojo said, his voice low and playful, though there was an edge of something else there—something more intense, more focused. He reached out, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face with a tenderness that was rare for him. “But I haven’t had you to myself all day. I think I deserve a little of your time.”

You were about to protest, to remind him of the work you both had, but Gojo wasn’t having it. He stepped closer, his large frame easily closing the distance between you. Before you could say a word, his hand found its way to the small of your back, pulling you in closer until you could feel the heat of his body against yours.

“Don’t think,” he whispered, his lips brushing the top of your head, “just let yourself be with me for a while. That’s all I want.”

The intensity in his voice left little room for argument, and for a moment, all you could do was stand there, letting yourself be pulled into his orbit. You knew better than anyone how stubborn Gojo could be, but there was something about the way he held you, the way he looked at you like he couldn’t be anywhere else, that made it impossible to resist.

He tilted his head slightly, eyes softening beneath his blindfold. “You’re always so focused on everyone else, but right now? Just let me have you.”

His words were a quiet request, but you could feel the weight of his need, the pull in his words that urged you to drop your guard. The way he was so intent on being with you now. It was unlike him, in a way, but it felt right. He was always so self-assured, so confident, that when he was this earnest, it hit differently.

You took a step forward, your hands finding his chest, pushing lightly as you tried to regain some control. But Gojo wasn’t having it. His grip tightened on your waist, pulling you back into him with a gentle but firm force. His lips hovered above your ear as he spoke again.

“I don’t want to wait anymore, Y/n,” he murmured, his voice vibrating against your skin. “I just want you.”

There was a vulnerability there that you hadn’t expected—a softness beneath the usual teasing and bravado. It was the Gojo you rarely saw, the one who didn’t have to be the strongest, the most invincible sorcerer in the room. Here, with you, he was simply someone who wanted to be close, who wanted your attention.

Your breath caught in your throat, your heart skipping a beat as you looked up at him. He hadn’t broken his usual playful grin, but the way he held you, so close, so sure, told you everything. He wasn’t going to let go of this moment, of this chance to have you all to himself.

“I’m right here, Gojo,” you whispered, your voice soft but steady, matching the energy between you. “No distractions.”

He smiled, the tension in his body releasing slightly as he leaned down, his lips meeting yours in a kiss that was slow and deliberate. It wasn’t rushed; it wasn’t forced. It was exactly what you both needed.

The kiss deepened, Gojo’s hands moving to frame your face, holding you close as if he was afraid you might slip away if he let go for even a second. You could feel his heartbeat, steady and strong, against your chest as he pulled you closer still, the world outside this room forgotten for now.

For once, neither of you had to say a word. You were just there, together, with nothing else but each other.

End note: casually hyper-fixating on Gojo Satoru

[aboutcustardcreams]

For love, we gladly pay the price

Summary: As Lady Death struggles with an impossible choice (flashback), you and Agatha find yourselves entangled in a very awkward/ uncomfortable situation. The question here is: what does the Road really want from you?

previous chapter

You made your decision– one each mother, in your place, would make. Your son is going to regain consciousness any moment now. And you made it possible. With your incredible power and stubbornness, you gave the boy another chance in life, a proper one. But at what cost?

“Please–” Rio never begged, yet there she was. You’d barely recognize her voice if you listened to it. “I could not persuade her to let him go, if anything– I encouraged her to save him from the start,” she confessed in a pained murmur. 

In the dimly lit hall stood the three sisters, their expressions stoic, yet contemplative giving the illusion that they could still be convinced into changing their mind. They had summoned Lady Death and that alone couldn’t mean anything good. 

Atropos, the eldest, stepped forward. “We can’t ignore what she has done,” her voice echoed like a thunder, taking up the entire space. Rio flinched, but didn’t back away. “Her defiance comes with a price. I’m sure your job has taught you that much, hasn’t it?” 

The Green witch’s jaw tightened, her teeth grinding at the words. Of course, she knew. She had known the moment the Fates discovered her secret; how she had hidden Nicky away, shielding him from the River of Souls he was meant to cross at birth. The punishment had been swift and merciless. She had endured it all in silence. Not a word of it ever passed her lips, neither to you nor to Agatha. Because nothing could have been done to change that anyway so why bother you and Agatha too?

Despite everything, her lips curled into a bitter, defiant smile. “she fulfilled the purpose she was born for. Necromancy is her gift. You can’t condemn her for who she is.”

Atropos’s eyebrows shot up as her head lightly lolled to the side. She let out a sound between a scoff and a chuckle at Rio’s tenancy. For being a Celestial being she surely looked quite small now. The other two shared a glance, their eyes lingered as to decide which of them would speak second, in support of their eldest. 

Lachesis, the middleborn, took a soft sigh as she approached. Her long golden skirt swept over the floor, leaving a trail of sparkle in its wake. “I understand your concerns for her– my sisters do, too. In spite of what you might think, we’re not heartless.”

Rio didn’t let her guard down, nor did she allow those ‘apparent’ hopeful words to get to her head, before learning more. “If that’s true, then spare her life.” 

The eldest let out a quiet chuckle. Three heads snapped towards her. “Oh, you’ve definitely gotten sentimental, Lady Death.” 

The witch’s heart started pounding in her chest at great speed, her throat clenched almost painfully as she tumbled out, “it’s my wife’s life we are talking about. I’m allowed to be worried about her.” 

Her mind spiraled, imagining the ruin your death would bring and not just to her, but to Agatha and Nicky. Eternity was a long, unrelenting road to walk with a heart that was very likely to shatter into pieces and bleed forever. Agatha, she knew, would never forgive her. And Nicky, her sweet, pure-hearted Nicky would grow up with that same resentment festering inside him. He’d nurture it, shape it into something raw, something dangerous, especially now that he shared the same magic as yours. 

“This is my domain,” she said, hands turning into fists. “It’s mine alone to determine when a life ends. You cannot interfere with that–” 

“I believe there’s a little bit of confusion here,” Atropos argued. Her eyes flicked to Clotho, who had swiftly moved to sit in front of the chassis, her delicate fingers spinning the shimmering thread within with practiced grace. The motion was almost hypnotic. Rio’s face fell, her frown deepened. Could that be your life Clotho was holding? 

“We do not mean to take your wife’s life before its time,” the youngest admitted. Her voice didn’t match the depths of her power, the way her fingers could create as much as destroy. 

“Contrary to your lover, my sisters and I know where we stand. We would never interfere with something that doesn’t concern us, so I must confess you, it’s not death we wish for the necromancer, but life–” 

Rio blinked in disbelief. “I don’t understand–”

“A tormented life,” Atropos corrected, with a grin. “Something you experienced in a way, but not quite.” 

“I’m sure you’re familiar with our distant cousins, Lady Death,” Lachesis added solemnly. 

Rio’s mouth parted in slight shock, a bitter sound slipped for her lips, “and you said you are not heartless?”

“I take that as a yes,” Atropos replied. Clotho kept her eyes focused on the thread, Rio couldn’t be sure, but she spotted a glimpse of hesitation in her posture. She was touching that thread ever so gently as if she was lulling a baby to sleep. Maybe she didn’t agree with her sisters’ decision, but being the youngest of the three, forced her to submit to their will and play along with it. 

“Clotho, please—” Rio’s shoulders sagged. “It’s not right. You must know that– you–”

“Do not try to manipulate our sister!” The eldest’s voice came out so loud and sharp, Rio flinched and had to cover her ears. 

The youngest swallowed lightly, as she averted her gaze, “I’m truly sorry, Lady Death. If it’s any consolation, the torment will not last forever,” she glanced at her sisters. 

Atropos nodded with a wave of her hand, “sure thing, sister. What were you thinking? Fifty years?” 

Rio’s heart picked up, “that’s insane!” She cried out. Her magic crackled dangerously around her. “She would never survive that and you know it!” 

“A fair compromise for her not to lose her mind and die would be between two and five years,” she admitted carefully. “As we already mentioned, we don’t want to kill her, right Atropos?” 

She grimaced, clearly displeased with the proposition. 

“I suggest two years,” Clotho tried. 

“You’re too soft, sister,” Atropos scolded her. 

“Please–” Rio’s knees dropped at this point. A part of her knew you could make it, however that was not enough reason for them to put you through that. Their cousins were no joke– she had known mortals who had wished to die in less than a month. And out of mercy, she had taken them to the other side. 

“I will accept the three years, and considering you were so adamant into being punished in her place, I want you, Lady Death, to curse her.” 

She looked terrified at the idea. Horrified even. “I-I can’t… I don’t want to…”  

“Oh but you will–” Atropos’ lips curved in a sinister grin. “Or shall we ensure she suffers far worse than what we’ve promised?”

Rio swallowed hard against the lump in her throat.

She had known it would come to this. She had tried to warn you— both you and Agatha, but deep down, Lady Death couldn’t entirely blame you for ignoring her. Bringing Nicky back wasn’t a crime in your eyes, nor it broke the natural balance of all things. It was an act of love. The love of a mother. 

But the Fates didn’t see it that way.

This wasn’t about your actions, not really. 

No, their wrath wasn’t fueled by what you had done but by who you were and who you challenged without a second thought. You had challenged their authority and proved yourself more powerful than they dared admit, and they hated you for it. Well, Atropos sure did. 

Clotho gave Lady Death an apologetic glance, “behave wisely.” She didn’t speak, yet Rio heard her in her mind. 

“So, do we have a deal?” Lachesis asked, picking at her fingernails. 

Lady Death’s chest tightened as she stood. Those words would have haunted her for the rest of her existence, of that she was sure. “We do.”

-

Present time

“Feels like we just came out of Mount Olympus!” Teen muttered in awe, staring down at his robe-like ensemble: a rich blue tunic adorned with intricate golden embroidery around the neckline hem and sleeves. Underneath the tunic, he wore white, loose-fitting pants, cinched at the waist with a sturdy leather belt that held a small pouch and decorative golden chains. 

“Check me out–” Agatha purred, as she admired her reflection in one of the tall mirrors placed against the ivory walls. 

She wore an elegant chiton, a deep shade of purple that hugged her figure with effortless grace. Its fabric draped like liquid silk, hugging her waist and hips before cascading softly around her thighs. The asymmetrical shape of the chiton left one shoulder bare, which caused your mouth to go dry as soon as your gaze drifted there.

“Oh, I am.” You drew closer, a subtle grin on your face, as your arms draped around her waist, and your head peeped out her bare shoulder. 

You’re hidden behind her body– almost purposefully. You didn’t want to distract her with what you were wearing, not just yet. “If you’re not a celestial being, then I don’t know who is,” you purred, your lips a few millimeters from her ear elicited goosebumps to her skin. 

She watched your face, through the mirror and her cheeks darkened a bit. You’d recognize that look anywhere. She wanted to see you, needed to, so she spun around and as soon as she did, her mouth parted in awe. 

Your dress, though beautiful, had barely crossed your mind until now. But the way she was looking at you made you suddenly aware of every part of it. 

“Woah, I’m– you are…” 

You did a little twirl for her.  

“Not bad, huh?” you teased, a soft chuckle slipping from your lips. 

The top of your outfit fitted as if it had been sewn just for you: it was a white bodice with a V neckline, adorned with a thick belt of black and silver filigree. The balloon skirt, layered with a silvery overlay evoked the jew/elry in your hair and swirled like shadows over the black underskirt that peeked through with each movement you made. 

When her hand found the side of your cheek, you leaned in, eager for more contact, more of her warmth and she obliged, thumb tracing sweet patterns over your skin. 

“How can you be so beautiful?” She breathed out like in a daze. 

You pursed your lips at her compliment, then tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “I could ask you the same thing-”

She pulled you even closer, taking a firm grip onto your waist. “You know, I think more and more that the Road appeared to test me, and only me.” 

A flicker of amusement flashed through your eyes. “We both know this trail is for me.” 

Her face dimmed at your words. The grip around your waist loosened a bit and you frowned. “Don’t do that,” you lifted her chin ever so gently, when she dropped her gaze onto the floor. “I’m fine. We’re both fine.” 

She tried to smile at your optimism, but her worries for you were eating her from the inside. “And let’s be real,” With your arms around her neck, you tried another tactic and pulled her in for a gentle kiss. “We make quite the hell of a team, don’t we?”

Her smile stretched into something far more genuine, making your heart swell with love at the sight. “The very best–” 

“Oh– There is wine after all,” Jen observed out loud, causing you all to turn towards her. There was a lovely cruet, sat invitingly on a low dining table. “And fresh fruits.” 

“Don’t touch it,” Lilia warned. “Could be poisoned.”

“Wasn’t going to–” she retorted, with an eye roll. “I’m not as desperate as someone else here…”

Your eyes narrowed at that jibe. 

Agatha shot an eyebrow at her and clicked her lips. “Careful there, Kale. Your obsession with me might be misunderstood as a crush.”

The witch made a ick sound, “Sorry to disappoint, but you’re hardly my type.”

“Course, I’m not,” she chuckled, with a wave of her hand. “That’s all the ladies say.” 

The others shared a quiet laugh, whereas Jen spun around and growled, trotting away from Agatha. 

You sighed and tiredly pinched at the bridge of your nose, before your eyes landed on Agatha’s again and you mouthed, “what was that?” 

She shrugged innocently, a playful grin tugged at her lips. 

“There’s something else here!” Alice called out after a minute. On an armchair lingered a piece of scroll, folded gracefully with a thin, red tape. 

You all circled the protection witch in a rush, eager to  figure out whatever was written on the paper she held. As she carefully unfolded it, the tension was palpable. Without realizing it, you leaned closer to Alice, your shoulder brushing against hers. You two shared a nervous glance before she started to read. 

She dared to grasp what none could hold. Each path and twist respond to our will. We wove the threads, but she cut the rope and stitched it back with cursed skill. The lies they spun must now unwind. The debt is due; your fate aligned. 

“What does it mean?” Teen asked, looking at each and everyone of you for clarity.  

“Well, I don’t know the details but you kind of challenged the Maiori, didn’t you?” Alice trailed, her voice soft, not accusing at all. 

It brought a tight smile on your face. At least she was trying to have some tact and tolerance. “I did, yeah. Or they challenged me. Depends how you look at it.”

Agatha’s brows met in a frown, as she surged forward to grab that piece of paper from Alice to take a second look at it. Was it a warning? A threat? What did it mean for you? Were you in danger?

Lilia and Jen shared a look, before the elder one spoke, “the cursed skill would be your power, commonly known as your silver,” she continued, giving a wave of her hand to help her reasoning. 

Your lips flattened. Correct, again. 

“It’s not cursed,” Agatha grumbled, flashing her a smarted glance. “It’s her. As simple as that. Her essence is necromancy and it’s about time witches– you all stopped harrowing her for it.”

“Lilia is just trying to help, Agatha–” Teen commented. 

“Exactly. I was merely paraphrasing,” the divination witch pointed out. 

“Of course,” Agatha mumbled, still looking irritated. 

You sighed, your fingers started to play with the tips of her hair. “It’s okay, really,” you added, calm as ever. “Plus it’s not that she wrote it. It’s just part of a puzzle…”

“I hate puzzles,” to Agatha’s remark, you couldn’t help but let out a quiet chuckle.  

“If I may interject–” Teen stepped in, snatching the scroll from Agatha’s hands, not without earning a glare from her. “I don’t think this is only your trial. I mean the message addresses a ‘she’ at first, that could be you, but then, it mentions a ‘they’ and a ‘you’ so it probably refers to more than one person,” he looks up at Agatha, eyebrows furrowing in thought. “Could it be you?”

She hesitated, “I’m not sure.”

“The lies they spun must now unwind–” Alice repeated the line, trying to make sense of it. 

You averted your gaze, eyes dropping on the floor for a moment. 

Jen’s head lolled to the side, suspicious. “Does it mean that… you lied to someone?”  

You gaped, then stuttered out, “N-no, what? It doesn’t make any sense,” a forced, nervous smile tugged at your lips. But it didn’t last. “It’s not clear… it’s–” you sighed, a tad exasperated. “We need more hints. This isn’t going anywhere.”

Agatha watched you closely, catching and worrying about your sudden discomfort. It was her turn to reach out to you. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

Jen stepped in before you could formulate a response. “Maybe it wants you to tell the truth about what happened during the Salem days?”

“Yeah,” Lilia agreed, with a nod. “Since we were told the wrong version of your story,” she added, although both you and Agatha could grasp the hesitation as she stressed on the word ‘wrong’. 

“Sweet.” The succubi witch let out a short, dark chuckle as she shook her head. “And if we didn’t want to share our story? Then, what?” She dared to ask, in a mocking tone. 

Alice sighed and folded her arms over her chest. “There could be consequences.” The sudden seriousness in her tone made Agatha recoil. 

“What kind of consequences?” Your voice came out barely above a whisper. 

“I don’t know. Maybe your girlfriend should fill us in,” Jen shot back, rather boldly. All eyes turned to Jen, your collective frown deepening. “I mean, she’s been here before, hasn’t she? Or was that just another lie?”

“As I’ve already explained,” Agatha replied, her voice clipped with irritation, her eyes refusing to look at her for obvious reasons, “the road is never the same. It shifts and changes depending on the witches who walk it.”

“Oh, great. So basically, you’re useless,” Jen deadpanned, her tone dripping with exasperation.

“I don’t see how you’re making yourself useful here, Kale,” she hissed back. Hadn’t Agatha been powerless, she would have blasted that witch against the nearest wall, or mirror. Depending on how badly she wanted her hurt. 

“Guys, stop–” you stepped in, the faint beginnings of a headache pulsed at your temples. You pressed your fingertips to them, rubbing in slow circles as you fought to stay calm. “Can we not tear into each other right now? I thought I made it clear– we are supposed to be working together.”

“It’s a hard task with a witch killer giving you eyes,” she mumbled, though everyone could catch the bitterness behind her tone. 

“It’s a pity your vocabulary is as rusty as your magic,” Agatha quipped mockingly. 

Jen growled. 

“Not helping–” you gave her a pointed look. 

She lifted both her hands in surrender, “alright, fine. I’ll be good.” 

You blew a raspberry. She could fool them, but not you. 

“Umm, as you were when you killed your coven?” Jen inquired. 

Agatha stilled, her jaw tightened and this time she said nothing for herself.  The witch in pink had been dancing on thin ice for far too long, pushing and prodding without care. But this—this was the last straw. Resenting Agatha’s behavior in the present was one thing, but dragging up her past and passing judgment without knowing a damn thing about her reasons? It pissed you off. 

So you snapped. “Oh for fuck’s sake!” 

The room froze, Jen flinched, Agatha… well, she appeared pleased for a second, considering you successfully gave poor Jen a fright and were able to shut her mouthy mouth.

"You are, without a doubt, the most infuriating, insufferable witch I've ever had the misfortune of meeting. And yet, somehow, I’m not spending every single second we’re stuck here reminding you just how deeply you irritate me. Nor, might I add, am I blasting you through these walls like you so thoroughly deserve—” Your hands trembled, and before you could stop it, magic surged through your palms, a darkish hue of gray loomed over your outstretched fingertips, desperate to be lashed out, but you managed to contain it… sort of. 

Teen flashed Agatha a worried look, silently prompting her to do something. She groaned and muttered something like ‘spoilsport’ before walking up to you. That’s when she noticed your eyes turn silver. 

“Love, come on now, look at me–” her voice sounded so soft to your ears, your eyes darted towards her, but only for a mere second before turning back to Jen. 

With a sigh, Agatha stepped in front of you taking up all your front vision, and when she did, her hands opted to cup your cheeks instead of holding your hands. It was not because she believed you’d hurt her. Quite the opposite. Why? Because she was a succubus. It was in her nature to steal magic. And yours was very available and very tempting at the moment. 

“Hush, please-” she bored into those beautiful silver orbs of yours and you into her blue ones. You caught her lips curling upwards, then. “You’re sexy when you’re mad, I’ll give you that,” as she predicted, your anger dissipated, and turned into slight amusement at her evident joke. She always knew how to make you laugh, even in a situation like that. 

“Atta girl–” When magic vanished from your palms, she took a sigh of relief she didn’t know she was holding, and then pulled you in a hug. 

Once you pulled away, you looked at the others, at Teen in particular who had his lips pursed in a grimace. Had you gone too far? Had you scared him? “I’m sorry, I…” you stuttered, embarrassed. 

Teen gave you a shy smile as to tell you that no harm was done. Same did Alice and Lilia. 

Jen remained quiet. 

“You should apologize to both,” Teen told her. 

The potion witch gave him a quizzical look, “w-what?”

“I second that,” Alice quipped, with a nod of her head. 

“I hate to admit it, but you poked the bear,” Lilia continued. “Well, bears.” 

Both you and Agatha shared a look. You chuckled at Lilia’s choice of words, also pleased with the fact that finally someone was taking your side. At last. 

“Fine, ugh– whatever,” the potion witch rolled her eyes and waved her hands in mid air. “I’m sorry, alright? I went too far.”

Agatha hummed, torn. “Say that like you mean it, toots–” 

“Don’t push it-” that’s all she said, before walking away from her, and from you. 

“We will take that,” you conceded calmly. 

You knew you’d have a hard time gaining Jen’s trust, so for now you accepted her not-so-felt apology and moved on. 

Lilia’s eyes landed on something she was sure wasn’t there before, or if it was, had sat still till now, unmoving. It was an hourglass, whose wedged white sand had just started to trickle slowly. She nervously cleared her throat, then. “You know, I’d really hate it if demons, snakes or whatever ambushed us, so… whenever you’re ready…” 

“Shit… alright. Okay!”

You slumped back against one of the couches arranged in a circle around the table laden with wine and fresh fruit. “I will take a glass after all,” you muttered, with a quiet, humourless chuckle. “Maybe two.”

Agatha sat down next to you, at your right, Teen at your left, followed by Alice and Jen. Lilia took a seat across from you instead. 

Your lover gave the wine a skeptical look, as she tumbled out, “I hope this isn’t the cheap stuff,” the glass in her hand filled to the brim on its own. So did yours. 

“As long as it’s not poisonous…” you retorted, taking a long, large sip.

[valkyrieromanoff]

Heyy I don’t know if you’ve seen the picture/ video of Hayden going to Lana del Rey’s concert in 2015 i think? anyways maybe u could write Hayden x singer!reader inspired by the pic/ video ??

btw I love everything u write!!!

🎀HAYDEN X SINGER!READER🎀

a/n: hello there, I loved your idea, I went to search for the video on TikTok, and I couldn't wait to write it. I hope you like it, I made this short one, but who knows, we can think of some more derivatives of this one. Anyway, tell me if I managed to live up to your request, kisses ❤️💋

Dating someone in the public eye had its perks. You both understood the pressures of fame—the constant scrutiny, the relentless cameras, and the weight of having your personal life dissected by strangers. There was comfort in that shared understanding, a silent solidarity in knowing you were navigating the chaos together. But it also meant double the attention. Twice as many fans, twice as many rumors, and an endless stream of paparazzi vying to capture the most intimate moments of your lives.

Hayden had accepted this reality when he fell for you, the rising star whose voice had taken the music world by storm. Your songs, brimming with raw emotion and a touch of playful wit, had earned you legions of fans. Your charisma had done the rest, including stealing his heart.

For nearly a year, the two of you had managed to keep your relationship under wraps. It wasn’t easy, but you both valued privacy. Dates were spent in small-town bistros, far from prying eyes, or at home, where the two of you could cook together, though it often turned into playful distractions—flour smeared across cheeks, kisses stolen over simmering pots. Those moments were yours alone, untouched by the outside world.

But tonight was different. Tonight was monumental. Your latest album had shattered records, catapulting you to new heights, and now you were about to perform in a sold-out stadium. It was a dream you’d once thought impossible, and Hayden wouldn’t have missed it for the world.

He arrived dressed in his usual understated style: dark jeans, a flannel under a hoodie, and his signature black cap. Just before stepping out of the car, he sent you a selfie—a candid, slightly awkward shot with half his face and the street in the background.

"I’ve arrived. Can’t wait to see you kill it tonight. Love you."

Your reply came almost instantly: "Can’t wait to see you either. You’re my lucky charm. 💕"

Hayden smiled as he pocketed his phone, bracing himself for what was to come. The moment he stepped out of the car, the night exploded into chaos. Camera flashes lit up the darkness like fireworks, and the air buzzed with the excited hum of voices.

“Hayden! Over here!” “Are you here for the show?” “Is it true you’re dating her?”

He kept his head down, offering a polite smile as he navigated the frenzy. Fans screamed his name, some reaching out with phones in hand, desperate for a photo. The paparazzi surged forward, shouting questions, their cameras clicking incessantly.

He maintained his calm, his focus unwavering. This was for you. The headlines that would follow, the speculation, the invasion of privacy—it was all worth it if it meant being there for you on one of the biggest nights of your life.

Once inside, the chaos faded, replaced by the electrifying anticipation of the crowd. A staff member guided him to his seat—discreetly positioned but with a perfect view of the stage. As he settled in, he looked around, taking in the sheer magnitude of the venue. Thousands of people, all here for you. His chest swelled with pride.

The lights dimmed, and the crowd erupted into cheers. He leaned forward, his heart pounding as your silhouette appeared on stage. As the first notes of your song filled the stadium, Hayden’s gaze softened. You were mesmerizing, a force of nature. And as the spotlight illuminated your face, your eyes found his, even in the sea of faces.

For a moment, it felt like it was just the two of you in the room, and he smiled, mouthing the words you’d said so many times before: "I’m so proud of you."

The show seemed to pass in the blink of an eye, a whirlwind of lights, music, and energy. They say time flies when you’re doing what you love, and tonight was no exception. On stage, you were radiant—your angelic yet powerful voice soaring effortlessly, captivating the sea of fans before you. Hayden sat among them, his heart swelling with pride, humming along to your songs with a broad smile.

Though his attempts at photography were endearingly clumsy, he snapped away, zooming in too much or catching blurry moments as he tried to capture the magic of seeing you perform live. But no photo could truly do justice to how extraordinary you were, how you commanded the stage with such ease, weaving your melodies with playful banter that had the crowd hanging on your every word.

You sang with all your heart, pouring yourself into every lyric, especially the love songs you’d written for Hayden. Each note carried a piece of your soul, and as you scanned the audience, your eyes found him. He stood out to you instantly—his dark jeans and hoodie barely masking the warmth in his gaze. The moment your eyes met, your smile grew so wide that for a split second, you faltered, almost missing the note. But you recovered quickly, your heart racing as he grinned back at you, mouthing the words he knew by heart.

Hayden had memorized every line of those love songs. They were pieces of you, little treasures you’d shared with him, and hearing you sing them live, with a smile meant just for him, made his love for you overflow. He clapped, cheered, and joined the crowd in their roars of appreciation, though his excitement was entirely for you.

When the final notes of your encore faded and the lights dimmed, Hayden couldn’t wait to see you. His pulse quickened as he made his way backstage, navigating the bustling crew with a polite nod here and there until he reached your dressing room. He paused at the door, smoothing down his hoodie and trying to calm his racing heart before he knocked lightly.

“Come in,” your voice called, slightly hoarse from the performance but filled with the same warmth that always drew him in.

As Hayden stepped inside, his breath hitched at the sight of you. You were glowing, still wrapped in the adrenaline of the show, your makeup slightly smudged and hair a little tousled, but to him, you had never looked more beautiful.

You turned to him, and before he could say a word, you crossed the room and wrapped your arms around him, burying your face in his chest. The familiar scent of his cologne mixed with the faint traces of the stage lights and crowd. “You were incredible,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion as he held you tightly. “I’ve never been so proud of you.”

You looked up at him, your eyes glistening with happy tears. “You really think so?”

“Think so?” he repeated, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “I know so. You were amazing out there. I couldn’t take my eyes off you.”

His words sent a wave of warmth through you, and you leaned up to kiss him, soft and lingering. “I could feel you there the whole time,” you admitted. “Every time I sang those songs, I looked for you.”

“And I was right there,” he said, his voice low and full of love. “Every word, every note—it was perfect. You’re perfect.”

You laughed softly, resting your forehead against his. “I couldn’t have done this without you, you know. You’re my everything, Hayden.”

He tightened his hold on you, pressing a kiss to your hair. “And you’re mine. Always.”

For a moment, the noise and chaos of the world outside disappeared, leaving just the two of you in the quiet intimacy of the dressing room. In his arms, you felt safe, cherished, and deeply loved—and Hayden felt exactly the same way.

PLUS: MEDIA REACTION

@StarBuzzDaily: A rare sighting! Hayden Christensen was seen in the crowd at last night’s sold-out concert of pop sensation Y/N. The actor looked relaxed and happy, even taking photos and singing along. Could there be more to this appearance than meets the eye? Fans are speculating! 👀🎤 #HaydenChristensen #YourNameConcert

COMMENTS:

@anakinqueen33: Wait... WHY was he there? 👀 Do they know each other??

@melodyLover07: Omg, imagine if he’s just a fan like us. Plot twist: Hayden is in his Y/N stan era! 😂

@skywalker4Life: No way this is random... do we think they’re dating???

@galaxyVibes88: He was literally smiling during her love songs. Like, SMILING. Something is up!! 🧐💖

@haydenwifeyy: Okay but Hayden Christensen at a pop concert? Either he’s a secret fan or there’s tea brewing 🍵.

@lanafan: him going to her concert makes him 100x hotter🔥🔥

@harmonicHearts: If they’re not dating, I’m shipping it now. Look at him supporting her!! 🥺❤️.

@rexlovers: Guys, what if he’s in her next music video? Manifesting that collab!! 🎥🎶.

[livingincolorsagain]

fuck it friday snippet saturday? is that a thing?

tagged by @capseycartwright, thank you so much for the tag lorna! <33. for this i picked a doc at random lol, so here’s a snippet from an idiot4idiot buddie wip where eddie ‘comes out’ to buck by ‘asking him out’ to go to a gay club together. ft. jealous insane oblivious buck, because this is me after all, and also everyone being so so done with them

no pressure tagging @saryasy @stevethehairington @confessionseddie @inell @letthesunburnyourskin <33

The club is Eddie’s idea, which Buck would look back on later and want to ram his head into a fucking wall.

In hindsight, Eddie was a little nervous when he suggested that particular club, and Buck took it as him trying to be a good friend and ally while also being uncomfortable with the idea of the two of them alone at a gay club, so he took it upon himself to invite Maddie, Chimney, Hen, and Karen to come with, ignoring the way Maddie’s eye twitched when he told her about the whole thing.

So here they are now, on a breezy Saturday night, and Buck is sitting with one side pressed up against Hen and the other empty because Eddie is at the bar, grabbing them a new round of drinks, leaning a little over the counter, and every head that has turned to look at him as he walked over is still staring, because he’s wearing tight pants and leaning over, and it’s making his ass more pronounced, and Buck isn’t staring, but also he isn’t not staring, and really, he didn’t even know Eddie wore such tight pants outside of work, which is always bad and distracting enough, not for Buck, obviously, just in general, and—

A guy slides over to Eddie’s side, leaning back on the bar, his eyes going up and down the length of Eddie’s body before they pause at his face. Buck can’t really see Eddie’s face, but he can see the satisfied look on the stranger’s face, and suddenly he regrets agreeing to come here at all. They need to leave, probably. Immediately. The club isn’t even that good, he’s not sure why Eddie wanted to come here. Buck is bored. He just needs to find where Maddie and Karen are, they’re still probably dancing together, and then they will leave, and he will go home with Eddie, maybe have a beer or two as they sit around the kitchen table and talk about nothing for an hour or so. But instead he has to watch as the stranger tilts his head and looks at Eddie like he wants to devour him, which is just—

“There’s steam coming out of your ears,” Hen says drily, and Buck blinks, eyes dry like he hasn’t blinked in a very long time.

“What?” He asks, trying to turn to look at her, but just as he’s about to, Eddie throws his head back laughing and Buck feels himself sitting up straighter, ears perked up even though it’s impossible for him to hear what they’re talking about from all the way across the club. He should probably go check on Eddie. It’s been so long and he really does need that drink.

“I’m gonna go see what’s taking Eddie so long,” he says, still not taking his eyes off them.

“I think we can see just fine from over here.”

“I’m just gonna check on him.”

“He looks perfectly fine.”

“We don’t know that, we can’t see his face.”

“We can, you’ve just been staring at his ass all night.”

Buck’s eye twitches. “Yeah, let me go see what’s going on.”

[woman-respecter]

I can't stand how terminally online assholes dictate social justice now. They make achieving progress basically impossible because they lose their shit over literally anything and everything. They lie through their teeth and pull ridiculous takes with no basis in reality right from their asses. Just like MAGA they are allergic to facts and reading comprehension.

Saying men need to do better is a normal and sane take to have. Because it NEEDS to happen! Women only trains in some countries didn't just spontaneously fucking happen for no reason. A rapist now sits in office because a huge portion of the male population decided they want a rapist to sit in office and then helped to vote him in. There is a very real and present problem with how a LOT of men conduct themselves.

But these bloggers would rather throw a shit about a woman voicing her opinion about it. Notice how they get much more angry about that than any of the gross behavior and violence women face. They care more about silencing a woman than fixing shit I'm so done with this site

yes, it’s insane how we can’t talk about the sorry state ot men in america without getting a shitfit from both the left and right

[alwayssassydreamer]

Vicious

Song Prompt Challenge

She's a little bit twisted, little bit wild Little bit fucked up, that's my style Little bit ruthless, little bit raw And I love the way you hate me You love to drive me crazy That girl is vicious, she's vicious Got venom in her kisses She's wicked, she's wicked

Warnings: none really, fluffish, kissing

Characters: Shanks x F!MarineReader

The Red-Haired Pirates had docked in town, and you told yourself you had to “observe” them. Over the months you've been running into them more than once. And every single time, Shanks flirted with you like it was a game he refused to lose. You’d tried to resist, tried to act like his charm didn’t get to you. But it was impossible to hold the line.

The bar you entered was alive with the sound of rowdy laughter, clinking mugs, and drunken shanties. As a Marine officer, you shouldn’t have been there. Fraternizing with pirates — even indirectly — was a direct violation of the code you were sworn to uphold.

But "duty" had a funny way of twisting itself, especially when Shanks was involved. Or at least, that was the excuse you told yourself.

You stood at the edge of the room, scanning the crowd. Your uniform was absent tonight, replaced by casual clothes to blend in.

Then you spotted him. Shanks stood at the bar, next to him Benn Beckman and Yasopp his crimson hair catching the dim light, a familiar grin playing on his lips. His gaze flicked toward you, and just like that, you felt his pull—magnetic and maddening.

You rolled your eyes but found yourself moving toward him anyway, the crowd parting instinctively.

“Well, if it isn’t my favorite Marine,” Shanks drawled as you approached, leaning forward on his elbows. “Out of uniform, I see. Trying to go undercover to see me?”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” you shot back, leaning casually against the bar. “I’m here to make sure you and your crew don’t burn the place down.”

He laughed, a rich, warm sound that sent an involuntary shiver down your spine. Shanks leaned closer, his eyes sparkled with mischief, and his grin widened.

“I think you just like keeping an eye on me. Can’t say I blame you, though. I am pretty charming.”

Beckman chuckled softly, and Yasopp grinned, but neither of them interrupted. They’d seen this game play out too many times to bother interfering.

“You’re infuriating,” you muttered, turning back to the bar in the hopes of ending the conversation. But of course, Shanks wasn’t done.

"You know,” he began, his voice dropping just enough to send a shiver down your spine, “I’ve been thinking about you.”

“Oh?” you replied, taking a sip of your drink. “And what exactly have you been thinking?”

"She’s a little bit twisted, a little bit wild,” he said to Beckman and Yasopp. The playful lilt in his voice sent a shiver down your spine. “Little bit fucked up—that’s my style. Little bit ruthless, little bit raw,” he continued, and you could hear the grin in his voice.

You laughed softly, shaking your head.

“Flattery will get you nowhere, Shanks.”

“Who said I’m trying to get anywhere?” he shot back, his grin turning wicked. “I just love the way you hate me.”

“Hate you?” you teased, leaning forward slightly. “That’s a strong word.”

“Maybe,” he admitted, his tone playful. “But you do love driving me crazy.”

“And you make it so easy,” you said, smirking as you crossed your arms.

Shanks leaned closer, his voice dropping to a near-whisper. “That girl is vicious,” he murmured, his gaze dropping to your lips before meeting your eyes again. “Got venom in her kisses.”

Your lips curled into a smirk, the tension between you crackling like a live wire. “Venomous, huh? Sounds dangerous.”

“Dangerous?” he repeated, his grin widening. “Maybe. But I like living on the edge.”

You held his gaze, the air between you heavy with unspoken words. “So what does that make you?” you asked softly. “Foolish? Reckless?”

“Both,” he admitted with a shrug, his eyes twinkling. “But it’s worth it.”

There was no point denying the pull between you. From the moment you’d first met, his charm had been impossible to ignore. Flirting with Shanks was like stepping onto a battlefield—dangerous, exhilarating, and utterly addicting.

Beckman chuckled quietly, and Yasopp smirked, clearly enjoying the show. You forced yourself to remain calm, though your heart raced in your chest.

“She’s wicked,” he said softly, his tone carrying an edge of something deeper. “Yet somehow so delicious.”

You raised your drink to your lips, trying to ignore the heat in your cheeks. “You’ve got quite the imagination.”

“And you’ve got quite the effect on me,” he shot back, leaning back in his chair with a satisfied smirk. “Face it—you’d miss me if I wasn’t around.”

You set your drink down, turning to fully face him. “In your dreams, Shanks.”

He grinned, his eyes glinting with amusement. “Every night, sweetheart.”

You leaned in, close enough to feel the warmth of his breath. “If I'm so vicious and my kisses are so venomous,” you whispered, your voice dripping with teasing confidence, “shouldn’t you be more careful?”

Shanks chuckled, his hand resting casually on the table as his eyes flicked to your lips again. “Careful’s not really my style,” he said, his voice low and smooth. “Besides, I think I can handle it.”

The tension snapped, and before you could think twice, you closed the distance, pressing your lips to his in a kiss that was both fiery and intoxicating. His hand moved to your waist, pulling you closer as the world around you seemed to fade away.

The kiss ended as suddenly as it began, and when you pulled back, Shanks’ signature grin spread across his face, though his eyes glinted with something deeper—satisfaction, mischief, and a challenge all rolled into one

“So?” you asked, your voice light. “Are my kisses really that venomous?”

Shanks grinned, his thumb brushing your hip in a way that made your pulse quicken. “Oh, they’re venomous, all right,” he said, his tone teasing. “Deadly, even.”

“Good to know,” you replied, your smirk widening. “Guess you’ll just have to build up a tolerance.”

Shanks laughed, his eyes gleaming with amusement and something deeper. “Guess I will.”

Beckman and Yasopp froze in stunned silence as you pulled Shanks into the kiss. It wasn’t often they saw someone catch their captain off guard, and even less so in such a bold, public way.

“Well, that’s new,” Beckman muttered, lighting a cigarette. “Didn’t think she’d actually go for it.”

Yasopp recovered first, setting his mug down with a chuckle. “Can’t say I blame her. He’s been laying it on thick since day one. Guess persistence pays off. A Marine and a pirate? What kind of world are we living in?"

“The kind where our captain enjoys making bad decisions,” Beckman replied dryly, though his gaze flicked to you for a moment, assessing.

You straightened, fixing the hem of your shirt as if the kiss hadn’t just turned the room into a powder keg. Shanks, of course, was basking in the chaos, his grin smug and completely unbothered by the reactions of his crewmates.

"What can I say? I’ve got a way with women. Not even Marines are immun” Shanks said. “Now, about that tolerance. Care to help me build it up?”

Before you could answer, Yasopp interrupted, leaning on the table with a smirk. “You know, this is the part where we usually remind you that you’re a Marine, and he’s—well, a yonko.”

Your stomach tightened slightly at the reminder. The line between your worlds was razor thin, and you’d just crossed it in front of his crew. For a moment, doubt flickered in your mind, but then Shanks chuckled, his grip on your hip tightening ever so slightly.

“Details, Yasopp,” he said, dismissively. “We’re having a moment here.”

And yet Yasopp and Beckman weren’t wrong to be wary. You were a Marine, sworn to uphold the law, and Shanks was one of the most notorious pirates in the world. This… whatever this was… it couldn’t lead anywhere good.

But in the heat of the moment, with Shanks still grinning at you like you’d just handed him the greatest prize in the Grand Line, you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

Shanks leaned closer again, looking at you with that maddening mix of charm and mischief.

“So,” he said, his voice low and teasing, “was that just to shut me up, or are you finally admitting you like me?”

You raised an eyebrow, leaning slightly forward. “Maybe I just wanted to see what all the fuss was about,” you replied coolly, though your heart was still racing. “You do talk a big game, after all.”

He chuckled, his grin somehow managing to grow even wider. “And? Was it worth the hype?”

You let the silence hang for a moment, watching as his crew leaned in slightly, waiting for your answer. Finally, you shrugged. “Guess you’ll just have to wonder.”

You studied him, catching the glimmer of something deeper in his eyes than just amusement or lust—it was curiosity, a spark of genuine interest that made your heart skip a beat.

But reality hit as you straightened, your fingers brushing his arm before pulling away.

“As fun as this is, Captain,” you said, your tone light but firm, “I’m still a Marine, and you’re still a pirate. I’m pretty sure this—” you gestured between the two of you, “—isn’t exactly regulation.”

“Funny. I don’t remember asking for permission.”

Your lips quirked up despite yourself. “You never do.”

“Exactly,” he said, lifting his mug in a mock toast. “I’m a rule breaker. And something tells me you’re not as by-the-book as you like to pretend.”

Shanks’ words struck a chord. He wasn’t wrong, and that scared you more than you cared to admit.

Enjoy your drink, Captain,” you said, your voice softer now. “Try not to get into too much trouble.”

Shanks looked at you his grin never faltering. “Trouble’s no fun without you, sweetheart,” he teased, earning another groan from Yasopp and a shake of the head from Beckman.

As you reached the door, Shanks’ voice called after you, loud and unapologetic. “Don’t stay away too long, Marine! I’ll be waiting for round two!”

You didn’t look back, but you couldn’t stop the small smile that crept onto your lips. The game was far from over, and you both knew it.