#let me know if you'd like something different!!

[lilbit-of-kizzy]

Teacher in 4th grade insisted I got "what is the sun (a star)" wrong because I should've put planet. A week later when she brought her map of the universe back in I walked her over to it, pointed out it said the sun was a star, and she just walked away

My freshman year I got a C on a "getting to know you (I'm not actually going to grade this it's your first A so everyone has one on the books, I just wanna see your handwriting) worksheet" because I had "spelled my own mother's name wrong and by the age of 13 you should know how to spell a common name especially your own mother's 🙄" and I finally had to have my mother call and lay into her about how names can be spelled differently you absolute witch give my daughter her fucking A, because the teacher didn't believe the official paperwork either

Freshman year 2nd semester I dislocated my knee, doctor said "let it breathe one day (no ace wrap) but still absolutely no weight bearing" and my gym teachers insisted I must be healed and faking it (2 weeks in to a 6 week recovery period) and to get back to gym class. I reminded them that I fell and injured myself on their time, that they weren't watching children correctly and they were already lucky my parents hadn't sued (they never would have, I'm accident prone) and that I think I'm gonna listen to the guy who spent 10 years on his degree instead of the two that I'm pretty sure got the job by default of being coaches. They left me alone

Btw if this is the kind of shit you find yourself doing, or think you'd handle these situations exactly like this (instead of apologizing or looking something up, basically doubling down even when you know you're wrong, because "kids need to know adults are always right") don't become a teacher. Thanks

when i was a kid i got a 90% on my kindergarten "what are your favorite things?" test because for the question "what is your favorite animal?" i wrote down "puma" and it got marked wrong because my teacher said a puma isnt even an animal its a kind of shoe

[deathofacupid]

opposites attract, they say. they attract, but they don't last. at least, not satoru and you.

"'toru," you tug on his sleeve, the silk cool against your clammy skin. he glances away from the gaggle of people surrounding him, a practiced smile flashing across his face. it doesn't reach his eyes.

"yeah, baby?"

you inhale, the bass of the music vibrating through your chest, making it hard to breathe, let alone speak. "can we — could you…" the words catch in your throat. what were you asking for? sanity? a moment of quiet? "um," you stammer, "when's this going to be over?"

"over?" he echoes, a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes, as if the very concept is absurd. "babe, the party just started."

your party. the party you hadn't asked for, the party you dreaded.

"i know," you say, treading carefully. you knew he'd put effort into this. it's just… the room felt like it was closing in. it wasn't his fault, not really. he thrived in this environment, the center of attention, radiating that effortless charisma. people were drawn to him like moths to a flame. and tonight, the flame was burning too bright.

"but… it's just really, um," suffocating is the word that claws at your throat, but it feels too dramatic, too needy. "it's just kind of a lot."

he laughs, a booming sound that seems to amplify the noise around you, and says something you can't hear over the music. "'toru," you sigh, the sound barely audible, "i can't hear you."

he clicks his tongue, a flash of annoyance crossing his features, before he leans in and excuses himself from the group. he takes your hand, his grip a little too tight, and pulls you out onto the balcony of the penthouse. the city lights sprawl beneath you, a dizzying panorama that mirrors the chaos in your head.

"okay," he says, his tone impatient, as if this whole conversation is an unwelcome interruption. "go ahead."

the resentment simmers. you swallow it down. "toru, this is… nice and all, but, uh — i'm just not sure… not sure this is my scene."

he squints at you, his brow furrowed. "what do you mean? it's your party."

"i didn't want one, though. don't get me wrong, this was… thoughtful, i guess. it's just too much for me."

satoru blinks, genuinely surprised, as if you've sprouted a second head. "but…i mean, i thought you'd like it. look at how many people showed up for you."

"'toru, those people aren't here for me. i don't even know most of them."

"it's a party! like, a party party. of course, you won't know all of them."

"i probably don't even know three of them!" you snap, the frustration finally breaking through. "you know i don't like these things," you add, the words softer now, pleading.

"yeah," he scoffs, the sound laced with something you can't quite decipher. "i do."

"well, what's that supposed to mean?"

"nothing. it's just," he groans, running a hand through his hair, "frustrating."

"frustrating? it's frustrating? me wanting to spend my birthday with you, that's frustrating?"

"you are with me!"

"and, like, one hundred other people! what's frustrating is that you're not listening! i told you i wanted to spend today, just the two of us!"

"but that's what we always do," he mutters, the words barely audible.

"what? oh, i'm sorry, is quality time annoying?"

he pinches the bridge of his nose, a muscle twitching in his jaw. "that's not what i meant."

"that's what it sounded like."

"look, it's just… boring doing the same thing all the time. we like different things."

"yeah," you whisper, the words heavy with a sudden, sinking realization. "we do, don't we?" you shake your head, the movement small and defeated, and turn to walk past him.

"wait, where are you going?"

you shrug, unable to meet his eyes, "to go to a different thing."

[bunny-jpeg]

pls can i req sugar pie, pithivier, fried dough, chocolate milk + champagne w/ team principal!oscar piastri 💝

bakery menu

thank you for the awesome order! the idea of team principal!oscar is super interesting and i love it to be honest! i put him with mclaren just because it would be easier and something about that (horrid) orange is just alluring to me.

sugar pie: “gonna let daddy hear ya?” + pithivier: "if you don't behave, i'll let the boys take care of you." + fried dough: "i know virginity is a stupid concept... but i want to take yours." + chocolate milk: tenderness + champagne: sugar daddy situation served by oscar piastri (formula one)!!

tags: smut/pwp, team principal!oscar, tenderness/loss of virginity, driver!reader, age gap (20s/30s), sugar daddy situation, (slight) daddy kink, (slight) jealousy, protected sex

"mister piastri! you shouldn't have!" you chirped as your eyes went wide at the sight of the gift your team principal gave you.

"well, only the best for my crow." he said cheekily as he got the necklace out of the box and then put it around your neck softly. once it was secured on your neck, he rubbed the back of your right shoulder and smiled, "my little bird."

crow was a nickname that oscar came up with that the rest of the team and the fans picked up on. crows were smart and had long memories, a skill that secured your victories on the track. but, oscar called you his crow because you liked your shiny objects.

and he was more than happy to provide them to you.

you placed your hand over the pendant on the necklace. you didn't even notice the engraving on the back, "belonging to oscar piastri". and when you turned to hold him tightly, he patted the side of your head while he locked eyes with his competition.

with your face in his chest and his hand moved to the back of your head. he gave a cheeky wink to ferrari's new driver. the other man who vied for your attention. but he wasn't even important enough to name, because oscar had you wrapped around his fingers. his delicate little crow. so eager, so sweet. perfect all for him.

when you pulled away to look up into his eyes. a smile spread across your face as you said softly, "tonight, i'll wear it for you in bed." and your lover smiled. that smile only grew when you leaned up closer to his ear and said, "i know you'd like that, daddy."

you had been planning this for weeks. you were a virgin, something that caught the attention of many, many men. a star racer who never had sex, that was quite the combination. but, you finally wanted to lose it. and to no other than the man who made you the driver you were okay. oscar. even his name brought a smile to your lips.

he looked at you with eyebrows raised as he asked, "seems i picked the right day to give it to you." he held your chin for a moment and gave you a slight peck when you were out of view from others.

the relationship was private, under lock and key. neither of you wanted the association that you fucked your way to the top. that wasn't the case, you were still a virgin. you just connected with oscar despite the close to decade in age difference. but you understood and he did the same with you. mutual attraction.

you nodded, "isn't that your superpower? to pick the right times? tire changes and what not." then winked at him. you looked pretty in the silver necklace.

he couldn't wait to yank on it in the bedroom tonight.

-

the bed of the hotel you were staying in was nice. soft in a way that most hotel beds weren't. everything was perfect, even your naked body in front of the bed in nothing but the necklace he gave you.

he licked his lips and started to unbutton his shirt, his gaze felt heavy on you. but not in an oppressive way. it was heavy with love, affection, admiration and most of all, lust. oscar wanted you.

he said as he got the first few buttons undone, "i know virginity is a stupid concept... but i want to take yours."

you clasped your hands behind your back and looked down at him. you felt the heat in your cheeks, "that's silly daddy." your voice a low mumble. he could barely hear you.

he leaned a little forward in his spot on the bed, “gonna let daddy hear ya? i want you to be loud, that's why your room is at the other end of the hallway. no one can hear you when i make you feel good."

you giggled, "dirty, dirty, daddy. going to dirty talk to you too."

he quickly got the shirt off his shoulders and tossed it to the farthest corner of the room. he beamed at you as he said, "oh? i know you'd like that. you eat it up when i make those little comments. which one was your favourite again? that time i played with your clit for over an hour."

you two never had penetrative sex, but you knew very clearly how nimble and talented oscar was with his fingers.

you swallowed before you said, if you don't behave, i'll let the boys take care of you." and felt the heat burn your face.

oscar laughed as he got off his undershirt, exposing his toned body to you. he was all smiles and laughter while he worked on his belt. "that's it." he said, "like i'd let anyone else have you." he knew his words were tinged with possessiveness, but he also knew that you loved it.

you watched him get undressed and you kept your hands to yourself. you went to go get a condom and once every stitch was off of him, you held it out to him. you admitted softly, "i don't know how to put it on."

oscar replied, "i understand. don't worry, i'll take care of it. just like i do everything else, right? I take care of you?" he reached out for you and got you onto the bed. you laid amongst the pillows and oscar took a moment to admire you.

you nodded as you got comfortable, "thank you, daddy." and gave him a shy smile which only made his cock twitch with want. he honestly didn't know how he managed to restrain himself this long.

he guessed it was like wine, and oscar now wanted to drink you up. savour you as he got between your legs and stroked his cock a few times before he put the condom on.

"safe and sound." he said as he tossed the wrapper to the side and put a hand around his cock to inch it inside of you. he was careful, slowly sank into you. "tell me if it hurts."

"it's okay... it hurts a little, but nothing too bad. keep going." your voice was light as you kept your legs open for him. you could feel the excitement force your stomach to twist in knots. you were losing your virginity to your older boss.

it felt right, it felt good. and when he started to rock against you. you felt pleasure unlike anything else. your noises were sweet, as were your words. you held onto the covers under you and let him use you as he pleased.

you knew he would take good care of you. he was everything to you. he made you a champion (despite his protests otherwise), his heart was the car engine as were yours. you were both connected in such a way that it only felt right to give yourself over that way.

to be so painfully intimate. you loved him. he leaned in to give you a brief kiss before he moved your hips to have better access to you. the stutter in your heart felt you shivering and your toes curling. his movements made your core throb with sexual desire for him.

you remembered touching yourself in your f2 career to the pictures of him online. you had some saved to your phone and you'd spend late nights under the covers touching yourself. now it was happening, this dream was a reality. you were a star on the track and the apple of oscar's eyes.

his pace increased, but not by a painful amount. this was your first time, he was going to treat you like fine china. you were a delicate teacup that he needed to not shatter. his little crow didn't need to limp to tomorrow's race. racing with a pain in that area was never fun, oscar knew from experience.

"look at you." he said softly as he rutted against you, "look at the sight of you under me. you did so well today, you are going to win it all. and then when you walk away with the trophy. i'll show you what i do winners."

you giggled and felt the pick up in your pulse as you held onto his broad shoulders. he pressed into your further and the pace quickened. he rocked you against the bed and you felt the pleasure in your mouth. there was something so painfully erotic about the entire thing, this all felt hot.

it was everything you wanted from him. you moaned a little louder.

"you have no idea what you do to me. i'm envious of those logos because they can be printed and stretched across your pretty tits." his tone was tinged with humour. but deep down he was envious of the logos because they highlighted your best asset to him. your beautiful breasts.

the same one that he leaned down to suck on. he bit them lightly as he continued to move against you. you couldn't help yourself and let out a sweet moan that made his pleasure only grow inside of him.

"i bet you are, sir. but they look good on you too. and that orange, look like a traffic cone. a sexy traffic cone." and were quickly silenced by heated kisses.

he chuckled when he pulled away and continued his movements. he watched you rock against him as he said, "you look better in it. a real eye catcher on the track. with those soft lips and beautiful eyes. i can see why you are so popular in poster sales. everyone wants a little bit of the crow. but she always comes to nest in my arms."

and you giggled at his words. they rang true, but they still made you flustered. you held onto him by the shoulders and let him move against you. it was a heavenly feeling. your eyes fluttered shut as you said, "i'm close. please, daddy. let me cum. it feels so good."

oscar pressed his chest against you, hitting the deepest parts of you. he heard your angelic moans before he replied, "cum for me, babe. my little crow."

the necklace bounced against your breasts as he fucked you. it was almost as beautiful as you fully coming apart at climax. your core clenched around him, you tensed up for a moment before you relaxed and dropped your arms outspread on the bed.

you shakily exhaled and let oscar to move against you. the pleasure grew in him quickly. your cunt was perfect for him, it was a beautiful sight to see you all blissed out while he continued to thrust against you.

the sex was still gentle, so oscar's climax wasn't as intense. but he didn't need to feel like he got hit by a train to have a good time. he finished inside of you, protected by the condom. he went in for another heated kiss.

he slowed himself to a stop and then pulled out. quickly he threw out the condom as to not cause a mess before he got back into bed with you. as soon as his hands were on you, so was his mouth and he started to leave heavy kisses across your heated face. he melted into you and you into him. curled up in one another and deeply in love.

"my little crow."

"daddy."

legs tangled together and oscar's lips across across the apples of your cheeks. he held your hand, how tender. how loving. pressed more kisses against you. you were his superstar, his trained driver. and with time, he'd make you a trained lover too. only perfect for oscar himself. <3

[obito-in-disguise]

| Helping Toji shave |

"Are you sure you know what you're doing?"

"Yes, for the eighth time. Relax, I've done this before"

From your perch on the cool tiles of the bathroom counter, you gently tug him closer, drawing his large frame between your thighs so you can evenly spread the shaving cream across his face.

You can’t help but giggle at the sight, he looked like if Santa Claus and Jason Statham had a baby.

He scowls and swats your hand away when you start shaping the edges of his shaving cream mustache into pointy ends. "I know you’ve shaved your legs before doll, but this is different. This is my face" he sighs.

"Legs, face, same thing" you shrug, picking up the razor. The shiny blade catches the light, glimmering with dark promise at Toji.

"Hardly..." he grimaces as you bring the razor a bit too quickly to his cheek, the metal gliding over his skin a touch too fast for his liking.

He grips your hips, his expression softening as he watches you tackle his stubble like it’s the most important task in the world. That tenderness quickly gives way to alarm when you tilt the razor at an awkward angle against his skin.

"Careful...careful!" he warns, feeling the razor tug more than it should.

"Oh my gosh, relax your titties..." you mumble, your eyes locked on your task. Your hand continues making haphazard strokes with the razor while the other one casually drifts to cup said titties, for reassurance of course.

He scoffs and pulls your hand away from his chest, 'titties?' these were rock hard pecs.

"I got this, okay?" you add, locking in.

-----

Toji stands in front of the mirror, a scowl etched across his face that was now dotted with little squares of bandages from the numerous nicks you managed to give him.

"You definitely didn't have it" he sighs, glancing at you. His expression softens when he sees you standing to the side like a kicked puppy, disappointment in your eyes at your work.

"It’s okay, doll. Better luck next time" he says, stepping closer and gently lifting your chin with a tender grasp.

You sniffle as you study your monstrosity of a shave job, then crack a small hopeful smile. "You'll let me do it next time?"

He snorts. "Fuck no, I just said that so you'd feel better"

You squeal as he leans forward, scooping you up over his shoulder. He playfully pinches your thigh, chuckling as you reflexively bump your knee against his chest.

"Let's get something to eat"

Toji can put them titties in my face any day he wants.

Tiny taglist: @catlover19282

Feel free to check out more of my Jujutsu Kaisen fics and other stories!

[hoffmansgirl]

A LITTLE BIT SCANDALOUS ...

... BUT BABY, DON'T LET THEM SEE IT

♡  🏯  ᪤  𝓘𝗡𝗧𝗥𝗢  𔘓 !  #  𝗗𝗨𝒞𝗜𝗡𝓖. .. . 📁 ᯤ ა

★̶̲ ‟ . .. . bratty!stepsister!reader

␥ ‎○˳ bratty!stepsis reader that caught nicholas' eye the second she walked in into his house. the pure hatred they had for each other is not something that went unnoticed by their parents. fighting about the most stupid and littlest things imaginable, the constant hatred and venom soon turning into something different — deeper. something that went beyond their control and beyond their parents' notice.

␥ ○˳ maybe it was the way she carried herself so effortlessly — maybe it was the unmissable similarity between her and nicholas' personalities. her playful remarks, his teasing replies, the not-so-innocent touches under the blanket, supported by nothing but the pure hate they had for each other. or at least that's what they thought, at first.

␥ ○˳ bratty!stepsis!reader that walks around the house with nothing but her — his — t-shirt on when nicholas' friends are over. the subtle swaying of her lips, bottom lip caught between her teeth as she hears one of her stepbrother's friends comment on how hot of a stepsister he has.

␥ ○˳ bratty!stepsis!reader that, for some unknown reason, always finds herself in her stepbrother's bed every single night. with his hand covering her mouth and his gravelly voice whispering not-so-sweet nothings into her ear while he pounds her into the mattress, she can't help but feel it's riiight where she belongs.

␥ ○˳ nicholas taming his lil bratty!stepsister!reader just for her to be a complete bitch the day after, and after... and after.

␥ ○˳ bratty!stepsister!reader that's the only one that can actually get nicholas to listen — if he's in the mood to do so. with his cock twitching in his pants and knees digging into the marble bathroom floor, mouth devouring her as if he's a man possessed, he can't help but surrender completely to the woman above him.

␥ ‎○˳ as much as he hates to admit it, he loves it — he sees it as a challenge. forbidden, but so tempting. annoying, but oh so good when he can finally bury himself to the hilt and let go, paint his little stepsister's walls white — claim her as his for no one but them to know.

␥ ○˳ bratty!stepsis!reader that belongs completely and totally to nicholas, and nicholas, that belongs to his little stepsister. no matter how many people recur in her and nicholas' beds every few days, somehow they always find themselves tangled in each other's sheets by the end of the night.

‣ ✮ . . now playing .ᐣ into you — ariana grande. temporary fix — one direction. stargirl interlude — the weeknd (feat. lana del rey). diet pepsi — addison rae. do i wanna know? — arctic monkeys. dirty little secret — nessa barrett. you right — doja cat & the weeknd. like i would — zayn. if walls could talk — 5 seconds of summer. buwyg,ib — ariana grande. no shame — 5 seconds of summer ++ more .ᐟ

𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐀𝐔 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐍. stepcest. cheating. perv!nicholas. rough name calling. manhandling. pain kink. somnophilia. dacryphilia. veery public sex. impact play. blood kink / blood. switch nicholas/switch reader. mutual pining. sneaking around. graphic smut descriptions (as per usual with my fics). › ⊂ will be updated ⊃ ╰ minors do not interact. ᘒ ˖˙‹𝟯

⎯ ɞ requests for STEPBROTHER NICHOLAS X BRATTY!STEPSIS AU are open. please don't steal my ideas, concept or any part of this au. this is pure fiction, remember that before sending hate in my inbox.

for: @urlitttlevenicebitch @iamsebastiansstan i love you 🤍 @greengoblinswifey @blackynsupremacy @chavezwifeyy @nickchavezs @nicholaslut @darlingnikkisixxxx @niteskysx (please let me know if you'd want to be on this au's taglist) ♡

[rafayelxsylusho]

Hey love, your LADs fics are 🥵🔥🫠.

If you are accepting requests, could you pls write a College AU with the LADS men?

A study sesh leads to smut (can include love confession if not in established relationship).

Have a lovely day/night~ 💖

I hope I did it right. Enjoy!

College AU with the LADS men 🎓

Part 1: Zaynexreader

TW: SMUT

**Both reader and Zayne are Med students**

Zayne looks up from his textbook, his eyes meeting yours as you walk into his dorm room. His room is tidy, almost clinically so, really different from your own chaotic space down the hall. Zayne has always been the organized one, the responsible one, while you...well, you were something else.

"Your room is still a disaster zone, I take it?" he asks, arching an eyebrow. When you smile and nod, he laughs softly and shakes his head. "I don't know how you manage to live in such chaos."

Zayne's gaze drifts over your textbooks stacked in your arms, his eyes narrow slightly as he takes in your appearance, noting the dark circles under your eyes and the way you seem to be running on pure adrenaline. He sets his textbook aside and leans forward, elbows resting on his knees.

"Tell me you got some sleep last night," he says, there is concern in his voice. "You look exhausted, y/n. I know this semester has been tough on you." he looks at you like a parent waiting for their child to confess to staying up too late. "And your test?" he asks when you don't immediately answer. "How did it go?" Zayne knows you had an important test this morning. He's been quietly supportive, offering to quiz you or just listening as you vented about the material leading up to it.

"I survived," you sigh, as you flop down on the bed across from Zayne's desk. "But I don't think I did as well as I needed to. I swear, every time I think I've got it, I realize there's a whole other layer to learn."

You groan, burying your face in one of his pillows for a moment before sitting back up to look at him "I don't know how you do it Zayne. Don't you ever just want to give up?"

He stands and walks over to his mini fridge, pulling out a bottle of water. "Here, drink this. You look dehydrated." Zayne gives you the bottle before sitting on the edge of his bed next to you. His brow furrows with concern as he watches you drink deeply from the water bottle, his eyes searching yours.

"Y/n, how many hours of sleep did you actually get last night?"

"Two," you say quietly. " Maybe a little more". His expression softens as he listens to you. He knew you were pushing yourself too hard, but hearing the confirmation of just how little sleep you'd gotten hits him like a punch to the gut.

"Lay down for a bit. I'll wake you up in two hours, and we can continue with your study session then." There's a gentle authority in his voice, Zayne's not going to let you talk your way out of this one. He knows you need the rest, and will make sure you get it.

As you hesitate, he reaches out to take the now empty water bottle from your hands, setting it aside on the nightstand. His fingers linger on yours for just a moment, a silent plea for you to listen to him.

"Please," he murmurs, his eyes holding yours. "You can't keep doing this. You need to take care of yourself if you want to make it through this program." His other hand comes up to cup your cheek, thumb brushing softly over the dark circle beneath your eye. It's a tender gesture, full of care and concern. He's not just your study partner and best friend, he's the one person who truly sees you, exhaustion and all.

"Fineeeee, whatever you say Dr Zayne"

He watches as you lay down on the bed, your head coming to rest on the pillow. He feels a bit of concern seeing you so drained, but also a sense of relief that he convinced you to get some much needed rest. Almost as soon as your head touches the pillow, your eyelids flutter shut and your breathing evens out.

You startle awake, your heart racing. You're not used to sleeping so deeply, especially not in the middle of the day. As you blink the sleep from your eyes, you become aware of a warm, solid presence next to you on the bed. Turning your head slowly, you find yourself face to face with Zayne, his body next to yours. He must have dozed off while you were sleeping, still clutching his textbook in his hands, now lying open and forgotten. Soft snores escape his slightly parted lips, a light frown etched between his eyebrows as if even in sleep, he's focused on the complex medical diagrams. He looks almost boyish in sleep, the hard lines of his face softening, a lock of dark hair falls across his forehead, and there's a vulnerability to his stillness that makes your heart clench. For a moment, you just watch him, taking in the gentle rise and fall of his chest, the long lashes casting shadows on his pale cheeks. Then, carefully, you reach out and pluck the textbook from him setting it aside. Zayne stirs slightly at the loss of the book, but doesn't wake. In sleep, his hand finds yours, as he settles closer to you. Your fingers intertwine instinctively, and you feel a rush of warmth spread through you at the contact.

You feel the heat of Zayne's breath ghosting over your face. Even in sleep, he seems drawn to you, his hand tightening around yours as if he's afraid you might disappear if he lets go. A soft blush rises to your cheeks at the intimacy of the moment, at the way Zayne's face is inches from your own. Your heart starts to race for a different reason now, a fluttering sensation that has nothing to do with the sudden awakening and everything to do with the man next to you.

You've shared countless study sessions, late night talks, and inside jokes with Zayne, but this...this feels different. More intimate. More charged with a tension you've never dared to acknowledge before. His eyelids flutter, and for a moment you think he might wake. You hold your breath, but he doesn't wake. Instead, he just sighs softly, his breath fanning over your lips. You know you should pull away, give him space, but you find yourself rooted to the spot. Captivated. Your free hand comes up to brush a lock of hair from Zayne's forehead, your fingertips lingering on the soft skin. He's so warm. So real. So...inviting.

You swallow, your mouth suddenly dry despite the water Zayne had given you earlier. Your tongue darts out to wet your lips, and you see Zayne's eyes flutter open at the movement. For a moment, you're frozen, caught in the hazel gaze that seems to see right through you. Then, slowly, Zayne's eyes focus on you. Confusion clouds them for a moment before a flicker of something else, something hotter, sparks in their depths. His grip on your hand tightens.

"You're awake," he murmurs, his voice husky from sleep. His gaze drops to your mouth, stays there for a long, charged moment. You feel your heart pounding against your ribs, your breath coming faster. The air between you feels thick, heavy with a tension you've never dared to put a name to before. His thumb brushes over your knuckles, a sensual caress that sends a shiver up your spine. "How are you feeling?" he asks, but there's something else to his question, a double meaning that makes your cheeks flush hotter. And you know you should answer, should break this moment with a silly comment or a joke but you can't seem to find your voice. You're too busy drowning in the heat of Zayne's eyes too busy wanting...wanting more. Wanting to close the small distance between you and feel his lips on yours, wanting to tangle your fingers in his hair and pull him closer until there's no space left between your bodies.

But you don't. You can't. Because this is Zayne. Your best friend, the one person you trust above all others. The one person you can't afford to mess this up with, so instead of giving in to the temptation, you take a deep, shuddering breath and try to gather your composure. You wet your dry lips again, your voice a bit husky as you manage to choke out an answer.

"I...I feel better," you whisper, your eyes still locked with his. "Thank you for...for letting me sleep." It's a clumsy reply, but it's the best you can manage in this moment.

Zayne's eyes search yours for a moment, as if trying to find the true meaning behind your words. Then, slowly, he nods and starts to sit up, his hand sliding from yours and leaving you feeling suddenly cold. "I'm glad, you needed the rest." He glances at the clock on the wall and frowns slightly. "I'm afraid I may have let you sleep a little longer than we intended though."

He starts to gather up the scattered pages of his textbook, his movements a little stiff, a little self-conscious. It's clear that he's feeling the shift in the atmosphere as much as you are. "We should probably get back to studying," he says, not meeting your gaze as he stacks the pages neatly. "You've got that big test coming up, and you need to be ready." He says it lightly, but there's a tightness to his voice that wasn't there before. A tension that has nothing to do with the impending test.

You nod slowly, sitting up as well and swinging your legs over the side of the bed. You feel a little unsteady, a little off-balance. And it's not from the sudden awakening.

"Yeah," you agree softly. "You're right. I should get back to it."

You stand up, stretching slightly to work the kinks out of your muscles. As you do, you catch Zayne watching you from the corner of your eye, his gaze intense and unreadable. A shiver runs down your spine at the weight of it, and you quickly busy yourself with straightening out the rumpled blanket on the bed, avoiding his stare. "I'll just...I'll just go freshen up real quick" You say, hurrying towards the bathroom, needing to put some space between you, to collect your racing thoughts and calm the frantic pounding of your heart.

Once you are in the bathroom you splash water on your face, and take a few deep breaths, trying to will the blush from your cheeks. But no matter how much cold water you use, you can't seem to banish the memory of Zayne's sleep-roughened voice, the heat of his breath on your face, the way his hand felt curled around yours.

You shake your head sharply, pushing the thoughts away. You can't afford to think like that, not about Zayne. He's your rock, your constant, the one person you know you can always count on. You can't risk destroying that.

Squaring your shoulders, you take one last deep breath and step back out into the bedroom. Zayne is sitting on the bed, his textbooks spread out in front of him, his glasses perched on his nose as he scans the pages intently. For a moment, he looks like a picture of concentration, the very image of the dedicated medical student. As you approach, he glances up, and you see the flicker of something else in his eyes. Something warmer. Something that makes your heart stutter in your chest. "Is everything all right?" he asks softly, a note of genuine concern in his voice. He stands up, taking a step towards you, and you find yourself looking up at him, your breath catching in your throat.

"I...yes," you manage to say, your voice a little steadier than before. "Everything is fine.

"Good," he says, and there's a quiet satisfaction in his voice. He gestures to the bed, "It will be good for us to review the material together," Zayne continues, his voice warm and encouraging. "We can go over the key points and make sure you've got a solid grasp of everything before the test"

He steps closer to you, his hand coming to rest lightly on the small of your back as he guides you towards the bed. The touch is innocent, a gesture of friendship and support "Sit down," his breath stirring the hair at your temple. "Let's get to work."

Zayne watches as you chew thoughtfully on a grape, your eyes scanning the medical text. Hours have passed, and despite the late hour, you're both still engrossed in the material, determined to ensure you're fully prepared for the upcoming test. As Zayne sits in his chair, he flips to a new page in his textbook, his brow furrowed in concentration. When he glances up at you, ready to ask a question, he notices a small, glistening droplet of grape juice on your lower lip.

For a moment, he's distracted, his focus torn between the anatomical diagram on the page and the tempting sight before him. He clears his throat softly, trying to regain his train of thought.

"Y/n," he begins, his voice a little rougher than before. "What are the primary symptoms of acute kidney injury?"

As he waits for your response, Zayne finds himself leaning forward slightly, his gaze still fixed on your mouth. The drop of juice on your lip, threatening to drip down at any moment.

He swallows hard, his heart beating a little faster in his chest. He knows he should look away, should focus on the important task at hand. But he can't seem to tear his gaze away from the mesmerizing sight of you.

Finally, as if sensing his stare, you glance up from the textbook. Your eyes meet his, and for a moment, time seems to slow. Zayne's breath catches in his throat as he realizes he's been caught staring, his pulse jumping at the realization.

"The primary symptoms are...decreased urine output, blood in the urine, swelling in the legs or ankles, nausea, and fatigue." You begin, your voice clear and confident despite the late hour.

As you speak, he watches, as the grape juice slowly slides down the curve of your lip. It leaves a glistening trail in its wake, a path that draws his eye like a magnet.

"And then there's the secondary symptoms," you say, unaware of the effect you are having on him "Hematuria, azotemia, electrolyte imbalances..."

As you speak, he feels a sudden, overwhelming urge to close the distance between you, to lean in and catch that glistening drop of grape juice with his tongue.

When the thought hits him it leaves him momentarily breathless. In this moment, with the late hour and the intensity of your study session, he finds himself fighting with a desire he's long suppressed.

As you wrap up your explanation, Zayne quickly looks down at his textbook, needing a moment to collect himself. He clears his throat, trying to will away the sudden tightness in his pants and the heat rising in his cheeks.

"That's...that's correct, y/n," he manages to say, his voice a little rougher than intended. "You've got a solid grasp of the material. That's impressive."

You smile at Zayne's praise, feeling a surge of pride and accomplishment. The late-night study session had been intense, but seeing the approval in his eyes made it all worthwhile. As your smile widened, the droplet of grape juice that had been perched on the curve of your lower lip began its descent.

Zayne, already on edge and distracted by his sudden surge of desire, doesn't hesitate. Acting on pure instinct, he reaches out and across the short distance between you, his thumb outstretched. In a soft gesture, he brushes his thumb along your chin, catching the errant drop of juice before it can fall any further. The touch is brief but electric, sending a shiver down your spine.

Before you can react, Zayne's thumb trails upwards, coming to rest gently on the plush, soft skin of your lower lip. His eyes flick up to meet yours, and in that moment, the air between you feels charged with a new energy. His gaze is intense, his eyes searching yours as his thumb lightly traces the curve of your lower lip. He's waiting for a reaction, for any sign that you feel it too this sudden, undeniable spark of attraction that's impossible to ignore.

His voice is a low murmur, almost a whisper, when he finally speaks. "You had a little... grape juice," he explains unnecessarily, his thumb still resting on your lip. "I just... I couldn't let it go to waste."

He feels his breath hitch in his throat as your small, pink tongue darts out and laps at the remnants of the grape juice on his thumb. The sensation of your wet, warm tongue against his skin sends a jolt of electricity straight through him, settling heavily in his lower abdomen.

"Now it won't," you say softly

As you hold his gaze, Zayne feels the last of his restraint slipping away. The walls he's built to keep his feelings locked away, crumble like sandcastles against a tide.

Slowly, giving you every opportunity to pull away, Zayne leans in closer. His other hand comes up to cup your cheek, his long fingers splaying gently against the warm, smooth skin. He tilts your chin up slightly, angling your face towards his.

"I've wanted to do this for so long, y/n," he confesses. The scent of his words is tinged with the faint aroma of the grapes you were eating, a heady and intoxicating combination. His eyes flick down to your lips, now glistening and parted slightly from your earlier actions.

"Tell me to stop," he whispers, his voice strained with tension. "Tell me you don't feel this too, and I'll stop. But god, I need to know if you want this as much as I do."

Your heart races as you feel Zayne's breath mingling with yours, his lips now centimeters away from your own. The heat of his skin, the intensity of his gaze, it's all so overwhelming and intoxicating.

"Don't stop," you breathe out, your voice barely above a whisper. It's all you manage to say before you close the final centimeter of space between you, your lips pressing softly against his. The moment your mouths meet, it's like a spark igniting a wildfire. Zayne's lips are soft and firm against your own, molding to the contours of your mouth as if he was made to fit there.

You hear a low groan escape from the back of his throat as you deepen the kiss. His fingers tighten slightly on your cheek, his thumb brushing over the apple of your cheekbone. You press closer, your hand coming up to tangle in the short, dark hair at the nape of his neck. Your fingers thread through the silky strands, anchoring him to you as you lose yourself in the sensation of his mouth moving against your own.

Zayne pulls back from the kiss just enough to hook his hands under your armpits. With a gentle but insistent pressure, he lifts you up and out of the bed, bringing your body flush against his own. As his lips claim yours again, his hands slide from your armpits down to your waist. He grips you firmly, his long fingers splaying across the small of your back as he pulls your curves snugly against the hard planes of his own body.

Still lost in the intensity of the kiss, he starts to walk you backwards, his body pressed against yours, until the soft give of a wall meets your back. He breaks the kiss just briefly as your back hits the wall, long enough to flash you a look that's equal parts hunger and desperation. His eyes are dark, the pupils blown wide with desire, and his chest heaves with each breath he takes.

"You drive me crazy," he rasps, his voice strained and rough with want. "If I take you to bed now, I won't be able to hold back. I'll lose control, and I don't want to rush this."

You close the distance once again and your teeth graze his bottom lip "Please Zayne" you whisper.

Unable to resist your urging, Zayne gives in to your demand. He leans into you, allowing you to tug his shirt upwards and expose the toned, muscular chest beneath. His abs are defined, each muscle group carved by years of dedicated discipline. As his shirt clears his head, Zayne captures your wrists in his hands, pinning them gently but firmly against the wall on either side of your head. He looms over you, his larger frame caging you in, his eyes roaming hungrily over your face and body.

"Please, what? Tell me what you want, y/n. I need to hear you say it."

His hips press against yours, the hard, thick length of him evident even through the fabric of his pants. He grinds slowly against you, letting you feel every inch of his desire. His hand releases one of your wrists to cup your jaw, his thumb brushing over your swollen bottom lip. His touch is gentle, a stark contrast to the rough, desperate edge in his voice.

"Tell me," he demands, his gaze intense and unwavering. "Tell me what you need, and I'll give it to you. I'll give you everything."

"Zayne," you breathe out, your voice trembling with desire. "I need you, all of you" You feel his hands grip the backs of your thighs, his long fingers sinking into the soft flesh as he hoists you up. He lifts you effortlessly, your legs automatically wrapping around his waist as he pins you against the wall with his hips. Once he feels your legs secure around him, Zayne's hands slide up, his palms skimming over your thighs and coming to rest on your hips. He squeezes gently, his fingers digging into your curves as he holds you in place. Sensing your movements, Zayne leans back just enough to allow you to remove your shirt. As the fabric falls away, revealing your bare skin and the delicate lace of your bra, his breath catches in his throat.

"Fuck" he breathes out, his gaze hungry as it roams over your exposed flesh. Unable to resist, Zayne leans down and starts to place open-mouthed kisses along the column of your throat. His lips and tongue map out the delicate skin, tasting you, teasing you, as his hands slide up your sides. They come to rest just below the band of your bra, his thumbs brushing the underside of your breasts. He looks up at you, his eyes dark and filled with promise, silently asking for your permission to continue.

You reach back, fingers unhooking the clasp of your bra. The lace falls away, baring you completely to his hungry gaze. He takes a moment to drink in the sight of you, your chest heaving with each breath, your nipples pebbled in the cool air of the room.

"Perfect," Zayne murmurs, his voice a low, appreciative rumble. "Absolutely perfect."

He lowers his head and draws one straining peak into his mouth. His tongue swirls around the sensitive bud, teasing it, before he suckles hard. His other hand kneads the soft weight of your other breast, rolling and plucking at the neglected nipple. Zayne's hips press harder against yours, the thick ridge of his arousal grinding against your core.

"Zayne," you gasp, your head falling back against the wall as pleasure courses through you. "Please, I need more." Your hands fist in his hair, anchoring him to you as he lavishes attention on your breasts. Your legs tighten around his waist, urging him closer, silently begging him to take you.

Zayne releases your breast with a wet pop, his lips moving to your other breast to give it the same treatment. He suckles and nips, his teeth grazing your skin, marking you. His mouth never leaves your breasts as he carries you towards the bed, his lips and tongue continuing their relentless assault on your sensitive flesh. He walks backwards and as the back of his knees hit the edge of the mattress, Zayne sits down, allowing you both to tumble onto the bed in a tangle of limbs. He rolls you over, positioning you beneath him. Zayne's hands roam your body, caressing every curve and dip, as if committing your form to memory.

Still focused on your breasts, he kisses and licks, suckles and nips, until your back arches off the bed and your fingers tangle almost painfully in his hair. Your nipples are reddened and swollen, glistening with his saliva, and aching for more of his touch. Zayne pauses in his ministrations, glancing up at you with a playful smirk as he slowly unzips your skirt. As he removes it he takes in the sight of your blue panties adorned with a tiny snowman.

"I wasn't exactly planning on seducing you tonight," you admit with an embarrassed blush, biting your lower lip. "I didn't think we'd end up like this."

Zayne's eyes soften as he takes in the pretty blush coloring your cheeks and the swell of your breasts. He finds your embarrassment endearing, charming even. It's a rare sight, given how composed and put together you usually are.

Zayne shakes his head and smirks "I'm glad you didn't plan this," he murmurs, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip. "Because if you had, you might not have chosen such...cute underwear"

He glances down at the snowman grinning up at him, then back to your blushing face, his smirk widening into a genuine, boyish grin. "Don't worry, sweetheart. They're perfect. Just like you, but let's get rid of them, shall we?" he whispers, his voice low and seductive "I want to see all of you."

Zayne takes his time peeling your panties down your legs, his fingers grazing your skin. As the fabric slips past your knees, he tosses them carelessly aside, his dark eyes never leaving yours.

When you instinctively close your legs, Zayne pauses, his hands resting on your thighs. "Open them for me, pretty girl," his voice filled with desire. His hands start to slowly push your thighs apart, his thumbs brushing over your inner thighs and sending sparks of pleasure racing through you, and when your legs part for him, his gaze drops to your exposed sex, his eyes darkening with hunger and need.

"Fuck, love," he breathes out, his voice strained. "You're so beautiful. I could look at you for hours." He leans in closer, his breath ghosting over your sensitive flesh, making you shudder in anticipation. He inhales deeply, taking in your scent, before placing a soft, open mouthed kiss to the inside of your thigh. His lips and tongue work their way slowly up your inner thigh. He places kisses to your skin, occasionally grazing it with his teeth, sending jolts of pleasure and pain straight to your core. He takes his time, savoring your taste and scent, drawing out your anticipation and desperation. The closer he gets to your aching, empty sex, the more your hips squirm and cant upwards, seeking his touch.

"Zayne, please," you whimper, your fingers tangling in his hair, trying to urge him on. He nips at the sensitive skin where your thigh meets your sex, making you gasp and your hips jerk involuntarily. He places another kiss, higher this time, his lips brushing against your lower lips. At the same time, he pushes your thighs further apart, opening you up to him completely.

"Tell me what you want," he urges, his breath hot against your cunt. "Tell me how you want me to touch you."

"Please, I need your mouth on me. I need your tongue, your fingers, something."

Without warning, he dives in, his mouth latching onto your sex with a hunger that steals your breath away.He kisses and sucks, his lips moving against your sensitive flesh as he explores every inch of you. His tongue delves between your folds, stroking along your slit and dipping teasingly inside you.

"Mmm, you taste even better than I imagined," Zayne rumbles, his words muffled against your sex. He looks up at you, his eyes glinting as he holds your gaze. "I could feast on this sweet cunt for hours, my love."

He then seals his mouth over your clit, suckling hard as he slides two long fingers deep inside you. He pumps them slowly, curling and twisting, stroking that spot that makes you moan his name. Your back arches off the bed as you cry out, your head thrown back in ecstasy. Suddenly he pauses, looking up at you with a playful glint in his eye. He smirks, his fingers still buried deep inside your throbbing sex. "How about we make this interesting, love? We can practice what you've learned today."

He starts to withdraw his fingers slowly, his thumb brushing over your clit and making you gasp. "Let's start with a simple one. What's the medical term for the heart?" He watches your face, his fingers poised at your entrance, waiting for your response.

"Fuck, it's c-cardio," you stutter out, your voice breathless and shaky with desire.

"Good girl," Zayne purrs, rewarding you with a slow lick along your slit. "What's the primary function of the kidneys?" His fingers dip back inside you, pumping shallowly, teasing you as he waits for your answer. Your hips twitch, trying to pull him deeper, but you force yourself to focus.

"F-filtration and secretion," you manage to say, your words coming out in a rush.

"That's right," Zayne murmurs, placing another lingering lick on your clit before suckling gently, rewarding your correct answer. "The liver's main function?"

"Nghh, m-metabolism and detoxification," you gasp, your head falling back as pleasure courses through you.

"Mmm, excellent. The brain's primary function?"

"I can't....Zayne please..." you pant, your fingers gripping the sheets as you fight the urge to grind yourself against Zayne's face. "I...its controlling and coordinating actions and..and ...activities,"

He wraps his lips around your clit and gently sucks it, his fingers pump faster, curling to stroke that special spot inside you with each thrust. You can feel your release building, your walls starting to flutter around his fingers.

"Lungs' primary function?" Zayne asks, his voice a low rumble against your sex.

"Res...respiration," you cry, your hips bucking up to meet his hand as your climax fast approaches.

"That's my clever girl," Zayne praises, sealing his mouth over your clit and sucking gently once again.

Zayne feels your walls fluttering and clenching around his fingers, knowing you are teetering on the brink of your climax. He looks up at you with intense eyes, his voice low and urgent.

"This is the most important question, my love. How many chambers does the heart have?"

His fingers pump faster, stroking that sensitive spot deep inside you with each thrust. His thumb rubs firm circles over your clit, the pleasure almost too much to bear.

"Four!" you scream, your voice breaking and cracking with the intensity of your impending climax. At your desperate scream of the correct answer, Zayne dives back in, his mouth latching onto your sex with renewed hunger. His tongue circles your clit exactly four times, each rotation perfectly measured and deliberate.

As he completes the fourth rotation, you finally shatter. Your body convulses as your orgasm crashes over you like, your sex clenching and fluttering wildly around his fingers.

Zayne groans, feeling your release gush over his tongue and fingers. He works you through it, his mouth and hands never stopping their assault, drawing out your pleasure until you collapse back onto the bed, boneless and spent.

Zayne crawls up your body, his eyes filled with satisfaction and pride. He cups your face, capturing your lips in a kiss that steals your breath away. You can taste yourself on his tongue, and it only makes you feel more desired.

"Good girl," Zayne praises. "You did so well, my love. I'm so proud of you."

You try to sit up, but Zayne gently but firmly presses you back down onto the bed, his hands resting on your shoulders. He shakes his head, giving you a playful smirk as he tucks you in snugly under the covers, pulling them up to your chin.

"Where do you think you're going, love? You need to rest now," Zayne says softly, his voice filled with a tender warmth that makes your heart flutter. He brushes a stray lock of hair from your forehead, his fingers lingering to caress your cheek.

"You've had a long day. I want you to sleep now, sweetheart. Let your body recover and recharge." He settles in next to you, wrapping his strong arms around your waist and pulling you close, spooning you from behind. He nuzzles into your neck, inhaling the scent of your hair as he holds you possessively, protectively.

His hand rests on your stomach, his thumb rubbing gentle circles, a comforting, lulling motion. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat against your back and the soothing sound of his voice soon has you both drifting off into a peaceful sleep. Unaware that once you both become respected doctors in your respective fields, you find yourself transported back to this day every time someone mentions the four chambers of the heart.

It could be during a lecture, a patient consultation, or even a casual conversation with a colleague. The moment the words "four chambers" leave their lips, you're instantly transported back to that bedroom, with Zayne's head between your legs, his tongue circling your clit in perfect, deliberate rotations as you screamed out the answer that brought you to the most intense orgasm of your life.

You'll feel a rush of heat to your cheeks, and you'll have to bite back a smile, glancing over at Zayne to see if he was also transported to that moment. More often than not, you catch him looking at you with a knowing, smoldering gaze, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips. You know he's thinking about the same thing.

I

[mayasaurusss]

could we pretty please get something about being in a flirty rivalry with Shauna shipman? thanks if you do :3

Tha's kinky, Shipman

Contains: afab Shauna, afab reader, angry sex, use of swear words, enemies to more. A/N: after I saw the end of episode two, I just couldn't let this ask sit in my inbox any longer😂, Enjoy, Shauna simps!

You don't like Shauna Shipman. You never liked her, not once since you met her. There was something dark about her, something that scared you, but you couldn't place your finger on it.

It certainly didn't help when she started to nitpick you for being a newbie in the team.

"You have to get the ball in the net, okay? In the net" she told you with those dark eyes of her burning holes in your head. You tried and tried, but no matter what you did, it was never enough for Shauna.

It wasn't long enough that you started to reciprocate her behavior. Did she miss a goal or fell on her ass during practice? Oh you would for sure let her know. At every chance you get, you'll tease the shit out of her, watching as her eyes become dangerously dark. It's the same routine today. Monday afternoon, the sky is dark, the rain cold, but you still commit your mind and body to the bit. You are on the opposite team, facing Lottie, Natalie, Taissa and Shauna. A loud whistle marks the beginning of the game, giving everyone the sign to start.

You're up first, face to face with Shauna. She passess the ball to Mari, but she fails and lets it slip right into your grasp, earning exasperated insults from her teammates. You kick the ball with your right foot, trying to send it to Laura Lee, but it's swiftly stolen by the brunette, who now aims for the net. Just as she's about to score a goal, she slips in the mud, falling face first into it and losing the opportunity to score one point for her team. You, who ran after her, stop right at her feet, already savouring the words in your mouth.

"You're supposed to get the ball in the net, okay? In the net" and oh it feels so good to say that. But Shauna has a different opinion. "You- fucker!" she's about to raise her fist and land it square on your face, but before she can do that, she's stopped by Taissa.

Now it's Gen's turn. She runs across the field, dodging the others, until she passes the ball to you. Fate wanted you to suffer Shauna's own fate. Just as you are about to score, you're yanked backwards by the back of your shirt, its edge pressing terribly hard on your neck and exposing your lower back to the cold winter's air, then, to the wet grass below. Shauna, that little bitch, is the culprit, smiling that fucking stupidly cruel smile of her as you writhe under her weight. She decided to sit directly on top of your hips, flashing her victory right on your face.

You couldn't stand her. But if that's the case, why everytime she stalks you during a game, falls on top of you and gives you that shit eating grin of hers, your heart skips a beat?

"What the fuck is your problem?!" you scream at her, watching as her face turns into a snarl. Did she really expect you to thank her for almost making you break your spine? "You are the one who fucking fell on top of me first!" it's not long that you two both scream at each other that Coach Scott comes, sending you on the sidelines until the game's over, forcing you to do five laps around the entire field.

You stop when six pm hits, standing in the locker room wet and cold like a stray puppy.

You try so hard not to give that crazy bitch next you any kind of attention, but she beats you to it. "You are so full of shit" she says, evidently not able to stop her mouth from spewing hate at you. "Excuse me? You are the one who started it!" a vein pops in your head, ready to pump blood in your heart and making you aggressive. "Yeah, because you fucking suck at soccer. Have you ever thought of doing something more your league? Like, I don't know, cheerleading? You'd be good at that"; Shauna doesn't grasp how that sounds until the last word spills from her lips. "Why, because I'm hot or because you'd like to see me in a skirt?" for a moment, her brain entertains the idea, picturing you in a skimpy cheerleader dress, cheering for her... What the fuck are you thinking?

"You'd look good..." she never meant for it to slip from her lips, already regretting it as you turn to her with a snarky look on your face. God, she wishes she could erase it, wishes she could force you to your knees and relish in your pain. Or pleasure. She's not really sure. "What was that?", Shauna makes the effort to not meet your gaze as she speaks, fearing that if she locks her eyes with yours, she won't be able to resist you. "No, I wouldn't; because all you could ever hope to become in this life is a bimbo. You are as dumb as them. I'm sure you'd like to get fucked like one too". Fucked like one? That's kinky, Shipman.

"I'd say bimbos deserve more respect: they sure have more of it than you" she shuts close her locker, the force of the impact sending droplets of water everywhere. She stomps over just in time for you to turn, slamming her hand on your throath and sending your head on the locker. "That's it. I'm fucking tired of you and your bullshit".

"And what are you gonna do about it, Shipman? Trample over me next practice? Fuck me in this locker room?"; oh you so deserved this.

Shauna doesn't even register her lips on yours until she hears your moan. She has you trapped between her and the locker, her hands bruising your hips with the sheer strength behind her touch.

The ghost of her teeth on your lips is harsh, biting and snarling like she's a wolf savouring its delicious prey. She's pressed so tightly against you that breathing proves difficult, your brain barely registering the lack of oxygen until she draws away, wiping a trail of spit with the back of her band, before assaulting your lips again.

She parts your legs with her knee, making space to slip her hand beneath your shorts. You’re wet enough for her to hook her pointer finger over the hood of your clit, but not enough to enter you just yet. Shauna kisses and licks at the neck of your skin, makes out with you like a starved woman, like your lips will be the last ones she will feel on hers. And when her fingers slide between your folds with ease, she pushes them in, gasping at how tightly you're gripping her.

"There it is. Look, you could be good at something, if you were a slut" those dark eyes of hers look into you, her lips curling in a cruel smirk. She's really taking pleasure in hurting you, isn't she?

You don't want to let her words affect you, but you guess you don't know any better. "Fuck off Shipman" you say between gritted teeth, anger stronger than pleasure is. But when she straightens her fingers inside, touching a spot that makes you see stars, you gasp loudly, earning a sick laugh from your rival.

You don't last long, pleasure taking a hold of your brain. White flashes beneath your eyelids, so close to the edge that you can practically feel it. But you're moving too much for Shauna's liking: she presses against you by the height of her crotch, effectively trapping you more into her space. You come under her touches, finally losing yourself in pleasure, staining your and her jersey probably forever.

You are far too tired, limbs so weak that you slide right down on the ground. Just when you think she's gonna be soft, that she will hold you and ask you if you are okay, Shauna walks towards the locker room's exit, a barely disguised warm gaze in her eyes. "Clean yourself up" she says, leaving you alone.

It's still raining when Shauna sits at the bus stop. She kicks away pebbles with her foot, replaying what she did to you tonight over and over again. Almost instinctively, she looks at the hand that made you ride your high, only to find faint traces of you on them.

The blush that spreads through her face could rival the reddest of tomatoes, and she quickly fishes for a napkin and the remnants of water in her bottle, cleaning herself at the best she could.

Shit. That was... Wow.

If Shauna really hates you, then why does she wants to see that fucked out look on your face again? And why does her heart skip a beat thinking about you? Ah! "Fuck".

[nightscythe]

light sides of the primarchs' relationships

happy valentine’s day!! this one is a bit happier than the 'dark sides' one for obvious reasons. as always just my opinion. if there is anything else you would like to see, let me know! enjoy!!

18+, it's not necessarily nsfw but suggestive themes. based on pre-heresy interpretations.

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the lion: the ultimate protector. you'd never feel unsafe in his presence. not just from legitimate threats, but.. waking up in the morning to find his arms around you, eyes watching you, lips ghosting your hair as though he would never be able to let you go. you're minding your own business reading a book or listening to others talk, and even though he's on the other side of the room he's still watching, calculating, making sure every single person near you is treating you well. if anyone did try anything? nice knowing them. you become his priority. his endless war. nothing will ever harm you again, except maybe him, on his endless war with making you feel every ounce of pleasure the universe can offer. ;)

fulgrim: is also your best friend, but not in the typical guy way. he's literally invested in every single one of your stories, he knows everyone's little secret, he comes back to you with tales he's learnt and weekly scandalous gossip. he knows everything about you. it's not even deliberate either, he's just so in sync with you that he could take a wild guess and still get it right. nights together can feature many things, all of which are thoroughly enjoyed due to his ability to perfect every single thing he does, but knowing there will never be a time you cannot talk to him about something? knowing he'd give you the best advice, more accurate responses, it's very comforting.

perty: you know everything with him is genuine. he would never lie to you, and that may be hard to swallow at first, but really? its a godsend. he'd not try to make you feel better by telling you a slight truth, he'd rather help you to move past it, work on the issue, etc. and that's why, a long way down the line when he does give you infrequent but honest words about his love for you, it means more than anything. there is not someone in the galaxy that you could trust more than this man, not with your life, your secrets, or your heart. and really, it would only ever get stronger over time.

the khan: enjoyably unpredictable. a man who values freedom always would be. he uses his instincts in everything and therefore it may not always be easy to know what he's going to do next. would encourage you to do things you may never have thought about, shows you new parts of the galaxy and introduces you to topics and concepts you knew nothing about before him. for that reason, he's an absolute storm when you are alone. completely unpredictable and completely dedicated to pleasing you. he's also just enjoyable to be around. he may be a touch arrogant and quick tempered, but he's witty, sarcastic, and excellent with his successful attempts to rile you up with teases.

leman: his love is very pure and built on a huge amount of respect. small gifts, tokens of appreciation, oh its all coming out with him. 'made me think of you' type thing and it's the most beautifully designed canvas that you know he wouldn't have just stumbled across. of course this is very different to how everyone else sees him, and no one would believe you. uses that to his advantage. loses all sense of practicality though when it comes to you and would probably show you 110% of his emotions even when he didn't intend to. his heart is in it, no half measures, you're his entire world now and as long as you will let him, he will love you for the rest of his life.

dorn: he is cold, but there is that burning fire that rages beneath. and when the cracks are fully formed? its impossible to ignore. he will not say I love you, but show you he loves you. there are never ups and downs, no maybes - its always a definite. if you need something? he gets it. you are worried about something? there is no need to worry for it any longer. he plans, he knows what to do to help you, he would never give reason to doubt that 1. he could protect you, and 2. his unwavering loyalty to you. does everything in his power to please you, particularly in the physical manner. when he's around, everything feels intense, and its oh so hard to ignore.

curze: he's trying. he is. you can see it each day. sometimes its not obvious, but he really does watch other people and try to imitate what they do to show you the love you deserve. because in his mind? you deserve it all. would he ever tell you that. no. he'd find it stupid. he'd rather keep it all to himself. but sometimes he bottles too much inside and it all comes out, all at once, every feeling he has. in that moment he just needs someone to hold him, reassure him, and be there to feel the love that follows. of course it isn't conventional, but even if he just taught you tarot, explained his twisted thoughts, tried to show you your fate - he's sharing a part of him that he'd not let another see.

sanguinius: effortlessly devoted, but not in the obsessive, overbearing way. you can see it in his eyes. he doesn't need to worship the ground you walk on or call in a choir to sing about you, you can just feel it. the small gestures. something so meaningful but so tiny that it almost snaps reality. helping you to braid your hair. trying his best to help you with something that he could have just ignored. listening to you with intent - not because he loves you so much he doesn't want to look away, but because he wants to hear you. listen to you. understand everything he can about you. it's so natural to him and warms you every time. something something doesn't care what time of the month it is either.

ferrus: always pushes you to be the best version of yourself. of course I have covered the bad side of this, but provided it's tamed, he understands there are limits, it can be rewarding. he will always reassure you that he doesn't need you to be perfect to love you, and would always encourage you to make decisions which benefited you - not anyone else. you'd also get to see his emotions, a rarity, knowing he only trusts so many to see him like that. a national accompaniment to this is that he pays a lot of attention to you. knows you extremely well. so if you ever argue, or don't talk for whatever reason.. be sure to engage the full ferrus apology - bedroom and all. crafts you really nice things too (of course)

angron: love is the only quiet he gets from pain. when you see him at ease, even for only a few moments, you can rest assured knowing that you were helping him. when he holds your hand, when he stands before you and defends you with his whole being, when he lets you fall into his arms and hesitantly wraps them around you. you know then that it's true. because he wouldn't do that for anyone else, and he couldn't physically do that if he did not have a moment of reprieve. and he knew as well that you gave him a chance, saw him for more than what everyone else did. that means more to him that anything.

rob: truly appreciates you. like, will show you, will make sure you know, will do anything in his power to make sure you're aware that the only reason he has an ounce of sanity left is because of you. you're the only person he will pause everything for, he will turn everything off to listen to you and your thoughts, he will actively seek your opinion on things he knows you would be happy to give it on, etctec. he just treats you like an equal. and considering who he is, that may be hard. but he does value you. yes he is pulled in every direction by all his duties but he knows where the limit is, and if either of you are reaching it, he will do what he can to make sure you feel happy and secure.

morty: it's those quiet moments that really stand out. when he lets his guard down for just a second, when he finally trusts you and knows that he would give his life for you until the very end. it wouldn't be easy for him to admit, and he probably never would admit it, but that one moment where he finally relaxes his shoulders and just lets you carry his burdens with him? it really does show a lot. and he would give everything for you. not even an ounce would be spared. it's easy to see it when he says it, that he loves you, even if he doesn't know the true meaning of the word. may not be conventional love, but to him, its everything.

magnus: there is not another who could love as much as he could. it's that simple. he's so utterly in love with you that he'd move heaven and earth just to see you smile. for a man with so many things going on, so many things to remember and do, he still keeps you at the very top of everything. finds little things for you that he'd think you like. recounts stories to see your smile. lays beside you and holds your hand whilst you tell him what's on your mind. it's routine for him, he does it without even thinking. nothing, and that is a hard nothing, will ever make him as happy as you do, and even when you're not around everyone hears your name, little snippets of his love for you, how much you mean to him, etc. he's so enamoured, so trusting, so in awe, that everything you do means something to him.

horus: incredibly intuitive and knows what you need before you do. has the tea and some fruit in his hands before you'd even mentioned you were thinking of having some. had someone prepare you a bath before you even said you were stressed. brought you some flowers when you were feeling down. cancels all his plans because you need someone with you. he does it to show he cares, knowing that sometimes he can be distant or busy, and it can be incredibly effective. also holds you incredibly tight. like your hand, when he embraces you, etcetc, it's like you're his security blanket in a way, which seems stupid because why does he need one, but actually he finds a lot of comfort in your presence.

lorgar: perfect if you want to be worshipped. that's how he'd treat you. and yes this has a dark side. but limited, not indulged or used for bad purposes, a good balance can be met. he's soft. his world would crumble without you. his exterior and how others view him is so different to what he's like with you that it seems wrong. but you are his everything. he would tell you it every day. he'd make sure you never forgot it. it may not be evidential to everyone, he's not proclaiming his love and devotion to anyone he sees, but to you its obvious. a silent prayer for your protection each day. for your good health. for anything he can do for you. and you'd know he'd burn worlds for you - just use that for the right purposes.

vulkan: a kind soul meant for love. he's not obsessed and devoted. he's not silent and brooding. he's what you think of when you have soulmate in mind. it seems to just come natural to him. he's your best friend, your lover, your everything - and he takes pride in that. he'd not need to burn worlds for you, he'd not watch you from the other side of the room without a world, he'd be beside you with his hand gently rested on you. it's just... normal? is that bad to say? but like the version of normal you always wanted, the normal in romance novels which warped our perceptions of relationships. you know. cute.

corax: incredibly loyal. quietly loving you from a distance until he's with you, then he's far more passionate and open. he's not one to have elaborate gestures done in your name, he probably wouldn't even do more than speak in a normal tone whenever others are around. but you know he's there. a brush of your hand with his when you look uncomfortable or worried. a glance in your direction every so often if you are separated. he'd always find his way back to you though, and you always know he's there at your side. and yes, very passionate when it's just you two, so much so you'd have first doubted it was the same person. he just saves it all for you. especially few things he's picked up along the way he thinks you may enjoy.

alpharius: you could never doubt his love. he'd never let you. it's so obvious that it's what makes telling him apart so simple. he just can't deny it when he's around you, he can't resist it at all. love is in everything he does. his touches as he walks past. his names for you. his insistence on always having you in his arms. it can be endearing. it is nice knowing that you are so loved, never a doubt in your mind that he does care. and if you do doubt him? he will change that. you won't ever doubt him again. you don't ever need to worry about his love for you, it won't change. he'll never stop loving you.

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[midnightsmusings]

I've been gone for years only to come back with this COD Stardew Valley AU and then disappear again. This might be too niche lol

Not exactly akin to Stardew Valley's lore...but Price as Willy & the witch is his Ex wife because Price just screams divorced, Soap is Gus, Ghost is Clint and apart of the hunters guild, Gaz is pretty boy Elliott right? See the vision?? This is so rushed but I'm fixated now

CW: B-word used in Price's (it's a witch joke promise my man would never), me destroying Stardew Valley's lore for my own amusement...

- Eternally tired fisherman Price that runs the shack by the docs, heavy smell of cigar smoke and old coffee permeating in the air of the small shop every time you come in to buy bait. You were always too grossed out to make your own and he was all too happy to have someone finally interested in fishing in this town.

He always patiently stood with an umbrella over you as you worked hard all day to catch the elusive fish that only came out in stormy weather, his rumbling chuckle sounding over the rain each time a hard to reel in fish escaped.

You thought you misheard him the first time he mentioned being married before, that he said his ex-wife was a bitch. You cringed a little but didn't think much of it, the usual bitter ex-husband talk. You'd avoided him a bit that, slightly crushed he would talk about a woman, even an ex, like that.

One day, the tavern owner John--who always seemed to know everything about everyone--righted your spiraling when he casually said "nae his wife was a witch."

- Simon as the blacksmith. He doesn't talk to anyone in town but was partial to the tavern owner John as the man always kept a secluded booth in the corner open for him.

Eventually, the more you came to him for better tools as your farm got larger the more he relaxed around you. Simon started helping you open the odd rocks you found for free, just to see your excitement when it yielded something you'd never seen before.

He often accompanied you to the mines, liked watching you gather the ores you needed while he took care of the various creatures that lurked. Eventually, he let you into the hunter guild he was apart of when he saw you single handedly clear an entire mine filled with those damned flying bugs he detested.

Simon secretly marked up the prices of the guild's armor and weapons so you still had to rely on him to get past the tougher creatures that guarded the rare gems deeper in the mines.

- Kyle who, in the warmer seasons, is always found lounging by his house on the beach. He was the proud torment of the lonely fisherman that glowered at his bare chest. Kyle's caramel skin shining from the pomegranate juice that was dripping on it.

He was fairly reserved, only coming alive on Friday nights when he was a few wine glasses in at John's tavern and would dance with Kate--an equally reserved woman you had yet to really get close to.

Kyle always had an easy smile on his face, words never failing to make you blush however brief the interaction. He was earnest and sweet, different than the other men in town yet still had the air about him that he was hiding something in that beach shack of his.

You haven't been able to get close enough to him yet to see what the inside looked like yet. You hoped with the help of Price teaching you to catch crabs and John's eagerness to teach you to make crab cakes you could win over Kyle's favor.

- John, Johnny as you heard Simon call him once, was a typical welcoming tavern owner. His place sat at the middle of town, always open for anyone who needed a warm meal or John's easy presence.

Like Kyle, he had a wide smile on his face always. The first time you saw a shadow casting over his face as that bright smile faded was when Mayor Graves came around to collect taxes. You had a sneaking suspicion Mayor Graves and that slimy Joja Mart owner Shepherd were both up to something. John's usual warm presence turning icy around them only confirmed it.

You'd gotten close to John fast as you always appeared on busy Friday nights to get more familiar with the town. John made it his personal mission to teach you how to cook everything. At first, your run down farm house didn't have a working kitchen. Sitting empty for so long caused what used to be a stove to become nothing more than a fire hazard.

John let you use his kitchen in the mornings when the tavern was closed. The man full on sulked for weeks when you came in smiling brightly proud to tell him you managed to sell enough crops to buy a better kitchen setup.

[captain-huggy-bear]

No because also Quinn to me, loves to make marks on you, but those ones that are visible to his eyes only

You're so right and so valid on this because I totally agree that Quinn is a marker. Definitely bites, definitely leaves hickeys but they're more privately placed. They're for him so that when he takes your clothes off he can get a little thrill from seeing that he's got a claim on you, knowing no one else gets to touch you or kiss you like he does. 18+ MDNI/NSFW under the cut - still think my NSFW is naff but the more you practice, right? This got out of hand and went from tiny to not so tiny... Totally happy to take requests/ideas/prompts at the moment in my ask box :) Writing Masterlist

Quinn Hughes does not leave hickeys on your neck. There are a few reasons for this. The first is your job. Quinn's mindful of the fact you can't just walk into work covered in hickeys, aware that covering them would make your long day even longer and be an inconvenience. Something he never wants to be to you. He'd rather you get an extra 10 minutes of sleep than have to spend those 10 minutes hiding all his marks.

The second reason is entirely more possessive and machoistic. He doesn't leave hickeys on your neck because he's too busy leaving them across your inner thighs, your hips, your stomach, your chest, because only he gets to see those areas, because only he gets to put his mouth on you like that. If he could he'd write his name in marks across your skin, a big neon sign to anyone who ever dared get that close to you that you were off limits.

But you're a good girl, his good girl and you'd never let anyone else that close. So, they're mostly for him, for his own sense of male pride every single time he takes your clothes off.

Like now. Quinn's always gentle when he helps you out of your clothes and today is no different, peeling your dress from your body like it's the most fragile thing in the world, being mindful of your hair and face as he pulls if over your head and lays it on the back of a chair. He's tender as your bra is unclasped, red marks from the band being soothed by long fingers, and your panties are stripped off until you're bare and naked in front of him. It's impossible to be self-conscious like this around Quinn with the way he looks at you like you're an altar for him to worship at, an idol for devotion and prayer.

He's loving when he pushes you back until your laying flat on the bed, shifting a pillow under your neck and one under your hips to make sure you're comfortable before settling himself to kneel between your thighs. Quinn's hands fall to your knees, warm, long fingers dancing across your knees up and up, as he takes you in.

You're gorgeous to him, always have been, but his focus isn't on your centre, wet and slick for him, or your breasts like you might expect from a man when his girlfriend is laid bare before him. No, Quinn's focus is on the fading marks littering your skin, the one's that he placed there over the course of days and weeks.

His fingers follow the fading hickeys on the inside of your thighs, you shifting with a quiet moan at the feeling across your sensitive skin. It feels like a tease. The way he grazes those marks softly, lightly, enough pressure to set your nerves alight but not enough to do anything meaningful.

Quinn reaches your hips, the fingertip shaped bruises there from a few days go when he gripped your hips so tight while fucking, so tight his mark was left there and he'd kissed them as an apology, one you didn't even want because you'd loved it. He leans forward now, lips pressing back to those marks, opening lightly to suck on them, tongue laving over them, deepening the faded purple to fresh and new, as blood vessels burst under his tongue. Your hips shift underneath him, unable to stop it as slick gathers between your thighs, clit throbbing because his attention is in the wrong place.

"Quinn..." you breathe his name out like a prayer, soft and gentle but filled with the sort of desperation that has him stopping, smirking into your hip as he looks up at you from underneath his lashes, eyes dark with want.

"Patient, baby, 'm admiring my handy work." Fingers dance back down and smooth over your inner thighs, thumbs rubbing at the crease between thigh and hip, a purposeful tease now because you're squirming and sighing and he can't help himself.

"Quinn..." You're so impatient he almost wants to laugh, but he's not done yet, wants to admire every old mark on you first and then add some new ones before anything more. You need to be patient for him, he can't be rushed right now.

"You can be patient for me, can't you, baby? You're my good girl, you gonna show me that, yeah?"

"Yeah..." It's instinct, hardwired into you at this point, that when Quinn calls you his good girl you can't help but agree to whatever he wants. You'll be patient no matter how frustrating it is, because he's asked you to be, because you want to be so, so good for him and you know you'll be rewarded for it.

"Atta girl." You don't urge him to do something again, not this time, not even as he's kissing up your hip and to your tummy, the hickeys he'd left there a week ago just about visible. So faded that it's just a shame in his eyes.

He takes his time with your soft stomach, presses his chest against your hips so you can barely squirm, barely wriggle beneath him. His lips take your skin between them, sucking and kissing until he's renewed each and every mark. The faded spots now bright red and purple, hands still grazing your inner thighs as he moves higher.

Quinn's lips follow a trail up your navel and chest, finding the marks across your boobs, the marks here varying i ages and shades of purple and red. New ones from the other day still going strong, while older ones have all but disappeared, it's a shame he thinks, that there are so many empty spots across the plush skin. There's nothing that could stop Quinn from filing those gaps, just as there's nothing that can stop your hands jumping to his hair when he begins to suck on the sensitive skin of your left breast, determined to fill the gaps.

You're squirming harder underneath him, throbbing at your core, slick with want as your fingers tug hard at his brunet strands. Still you don't ask him to stop, don't ask him to touch you more, just whimper and moan out his name in encouragement as he fills in each blank spot across your breasts.

When he pulls back finally you're a Monet painting, a Jackson Pollock of hickeys and bruises but only in your most intimate areas, only in places no one else will get to see, only for him. He smirks down at you with heavy lidded eyes, darting across your skin like the marks are the best painting he's ever seen and then he stops, eyes fixed on your thighs. His expression grows dissatisfied because he forgot to press new marks on your inner thighs, those marks fading and nearly gone, something he simply cannot allow.

You don't even get a beat to breathe, a moment to think before he's sliding down your body and pressing your hips down to the bed with one forearm, lips pressing to your right thigh and sucking hard.

"Quinn!" You can't help it, his name comes out like a desperate mantra as he all but attacks your thighs, the most sensitive skin being assaulted with hickeys. Marks sucked in, fingertips pressing, from just above your knee, up, up and up until he's almost at your centre before he switches thighs. You're certain this is how you'll die, unsatisfied, running a fever, practically gushing between your thighs while Quinn seems all but disinterested in anything that isn't marking you up like his property.

He's not cruel though, no Quinn could never be cruel to you not when you're being so good for him. It's what has him shifting one of your legs over shoulder while his fingers track their way up your thigh to your centre. The first touch of his fingertips against your slit has you practically jumping, unexpected but not unwelcome. He wastes little time in pressing a finger into you, sliding in oh so easily. Your walls clamp around his finger like his lips clamp around the flesh of your thigh and you can't help the shameless moan that falls from your chest as you squirm.

It's the most delicious form of torture, one finger moving inside you, your walls pressing against it but nothing more, it's not enough. But you know asking for more won't get you anywhere, so all you can do is moan his name, take the little he gives you even as slick practically drips down your thighs.

He doesn't let up when he pulls back to look at his handy work, in fact, Quinn slips a second long finger inside you as he looks at the marks across your thighs. Scattered marks of purple and red covering the inside of your thighs in the best sort of way, the way that he knows no one would be able to mistake that you're taken, you're his and only his. It sends a possessive sort of thrill through him to have you under him like that, covered in his marks and writhing with his fingers plunging into you. It's the sort of thrill that has him so proud of you for being so good for him, so proud he just wants to reward you for all your patience.

"You've been so good for me, baby, such a good girl, yeah?"

You can't even speak, just nodding your head frantically as heavy eyes look up at him, so desperate for something, anything that'll finally make you cum. He can't help the pride he feels because he knows he's ruined you for anyone else. No one could treat you this good, no one could get you off like this, no one could make you such a good girl for them but him. You're his no matter what.

"Gonna reward you, baby, give you what you need."

There's no preamble, no build up or hesitation before he's settling back between your thighs, throwing both legs over shoulders and sucking your clit into his mouth, your back arching off the bed at the sudden sensation.

Quinn's fingers don't let up, thrusting in and out of you, searching for that spongy spot just at the back of your walls that has you whining. Lips latched onto your clit like it's a popsicle for him to suck on. He's building you up to that high you've been waiting on all night, your walls gripping him so tightly it's almost a chore to move his fingers.

You whine in frustration when his fingers leave you, lips popping off your clit, and you're scared he's going to leave you like that, that you haven't been good enough.

"Don't worry, baby, I've got you, promise, just want a taste of you..." He follows through on his promise, your frustration giving way to pleasure as his mouth finds your slit, his fingers swapping to your clit.

His tongue slides into you, moaning against you at your taste, as your legs clamp around his head like a vice and Quinn's pretty certain he'd die happy like that. That he'd be happy to go so long as it was suffocated in your cunt with your thighs crushing his skull. He pulls you as close to his mouth as he can, fingers pressing more firmly in circles around your clit until you're feeling too much, over sensitive and trying to pull away but he doesn't let you go, not done. Not had his fill, not happy until he hears your gasps and moans stop, breathing halted as you finally cum for him, slick flooding his mouth like some sort of divine nectar of the gods.

He keeps going even after you've cum, not content with just one orgasm from you, a couple of fingers sliding in besides his tongue and crooking against that spongy spot inside you. You're sensitive, overly so and it's not long before the crooking of those fingers combined with the slide of his tongue against your clit has you orgasming for the second time.

This time when your hands push at his shoulders he withdraws, coming up for air, slick around his mouth and chin, fingers leaving you as you wince.

"Taste so fucking good, baby..."

"Quinn..." He crawls up your body until he's leaning over you, lips pressing to your cheek messily even as he leaves your own cum behind in a glistening trail.

"Been such a good girl for me, angel, so good. You okay?" His nose nuzzles behind your ear and it's gentle, sweet. He's rock hard, but he doesn't care, just cares about you, how you're doing, if you want more or if you want cuddles. Either is good for him.

"Mmm, need you in me, please?"

"Yeah? You sure you can take it?" He's not even being cocky, just concerned that you might be too sensitive, that it might be too much after 2 orgasms.

"Can take it, promise."

"You tell me if you want to stop, yeah, baby?" You nod, but that's not good enough for him.

"Use your words, baby."

"Promise, Quinny"

"Good girl," He slips in with such ease you're gasping at the sudden intrusion, legs clamping over his hips to draw him closer until the head of his cock is up against that spot that has your jaw dropping open, moan drawn from the back of your throat, head dropping back.

He sets a hard pace because he's so ready to cum, been holding back for so long that he needs you to cum one more time so he can finally get his own release. Quinn's hips smack into yours, the sound of slick, of skin hitting skin filling the air around the two of you. Your hands are around his shoulders, nails digging into his skin to leave half-moon circles, while one of his holds your throat, pressing the sides just enough for that coil in your belly to wind tighter.

His free hand slips between the two of you, two fingers sliding over your clit, circling, earning a gasp from you as your walls squeeze his cock so tight he has to stop, take a moment, before continuing.

It's times like this, when you're gripping him raw that he's thankful for the pill, for the fact that that moment you cum around him, your walls so tight that he's following after, that he can spill inside you without thinking.

[sillyuin]

Valentine's day with svt (Vocal Unit)

Genre: fluff fluff fluff.

Pairing: svt vocal unit x reader.

Warnings: none.

- Yuin's note: This is the part 1/3 of my valentine's day with svt special. I'll be posting the next parts during the day or next, so wait for it ♥ also, happy birthday my fellow Carat, take it as a gift for you ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚

Jeonghan. Playing board games.

He likes games and loves to cheat on them, that’s nothing new for you. When he told you to have a game night for valentine’s you were expecting for him to be the mischievous angel-faced he is. But he had an ace up his sleeve that you weren't prepared for.

“The loser gotta give the winner a kiss,” he said in a serious tone.

You raised an eyebrow, “if you want me to kiss you just ask me.”

He laughed softly, like he was expecting for you to say such a statement. “But, the winner has the right to ask the way they want it to be.”

“What… Does that mean?”

“I don’t know” Jeonghan bit his lower lip, locking his eyes on yours. “Just try not to lose the game”.

It was probably the hardest game you ever played in your life, not because you haven’t played Monopoly before, but because his gaze was on you all the time, as if Jeonghan was able to read even the deepest thought in your mind.

Whatever he was thinking, you made a double effort to not fail into his love games. But let’s be honest, it’s a sweet temptation you’d like to try without hesitation.

Joshua. Baking cookies for each other.

Something so simple and so endearing at the same time, there’s nothing like an afternoon filled with laughs and the delicious smell of cookies, as the promise of a sweet and romantic night.

“Josh, can you give me the choco chips?” you asked, while checking the recipe on your phone. However, he said nothing, “Josh… Joshua!”

 “Hey, don’t scream at me” he complained in a sassy manner, “I’m just beside you, and I’m busy”.

You turned to see what he was doing, and raised an eyebrow, confused. “Aren’t we supposed to make cookies with choco chips?”

“Yeah”.

“Then, what is that?”

“Oh, this” Joshua’s smile was so big that the corners of his eyes narrowed slightly, and he proudly show you his creation, “it’s for you. Do you like it?”

He was holding a tray full of those calico-shaped cookies you wanted to try. The kitty shaped cookies were actually very cute, so much that you even forgot why you raised your voice at him.

“When did you baked them?”

“Before you came home. I wanted to try something different.” Joshua stared at you tilting his head, “I bake for you and you bake for me, then we watch one of those romcon you love as much as me”.

“Sounds good for me.” you laughed low as you continued with your cookies, “but you have to wait for me, I need to finish these.”

“Okay” He approached you, resting his chin on your shoulder as he hugged you from behind, “I'll be here just checking in your work. Please do as if I’m not here”.

Woozi. Spa night.

He’s always about work, but also needs a break from time to time. Now, your time has come: No phones, no responsibilities, just the two of you taking care of each other in the warmth of your shared apartment.

The pleasant aroma of scented candles filled the whole room, and Jihoon let out a deep sigh. When was the last time he felt that relieved? He can’t remember, but now he feels like touching heaven and the best part, it was in the comfort of his own home.

“Hey, don’t fall asleep yet” you protest with a playful tone, “I just started with your shoulders”.

“I’m sorry” he apologized in a lazy tone, “but I’m serious, you're so good at it, you'd become a millionaire with this job.”

“I’m not that good, this is just a hobby,” you laughed in a low tone. “Do you want some more tea?”

“Yes, please!” Jihoon agreed cheerfully, “Is amazing, what did you make this tea with?"

“Oh, you know; chamomile, other natural stuff” leaning towards him, you let a kiss in the top of his head, snuggling your face on his hair, “and all my love for you”.

Dokyeom. Homemade pizzas.

He loves pizza and he loves you even more, that’s all he needs. In the warmth of your cozy apartment, a messy yet funny meal takes place that you both are going to remember for a long time.

“What in the world is this?” you said trying not to laugh, “looks like my heart after I watched that sad movie”.

“But it was fine!” he stammered, laughing in embarrassment, “the oven tricked us!”

Seokmin has been planning this night with the highest expectation, but the heart-shaped pizzas didn’t turn as he visualized. They smell good for sure, however something went wrong and now you have something that looks more like an attempt that a pizza itself.

“Ah, we put in so much effort” he made a small pout, “I’m so sorry, babe.”

“Oh, it’s okay! It’s our first time” you patted his back trying to comfort him, “I bet they’re delicious, let’s just eat”.

And it was indeed the best pizza you ever tried before; your praise words encouraged him as you both sat on the sofa and started eating your homemade dinner.

It didn’t turned out as expected, but your heart was so filled with joy and happiness that it didn't really matter, it is priceless and you’d never change this day for nothing in the world.

Seungkwan. Trying a new café.

Making changes is always good and Valentine’s Day is the perfect excuse to do something different. Unfortunately, you’re not the only couple who had the same idea.

“This place is full too” Seungkwan signed, running his hand through his hair in annoyance. “It’s the third one”.

“It’s okay Boo, we can do something else”.

You were sitting in the car and the atmosphere started to feel a little heavy. Maybe going for a café date on Valentine’s Day wasn’t the best idea, every place was crowded as if everyone just had the same braincel and decided to occupy every single café in town. And Seungkwan was part of that unplanned collective.

“I’m so sorry, love” he placed his hand on your shoulder, his voice was low and a little sad, “I should’ve planned this better and made a reservation.”

You remained thoughtful, an idea came to your mind and you said it with a big smile. “Hey, what about if we buy something and make our own café at home?”

“That… Actually doesn’t sound bad” he raised both eyebrows tilting his head, “What’s on your mind?”

And so, a few purchases later, you ended up drinking delicious coffee at home, accompanied with a sweet strawberry cake and a tender playlist you both made at that moment. It has the potential to become a tradition, after all, it doesn’t matter the place or the activity; every moment with Seungkwan is special for you.

[motheroffeline]

Infatuation (pt. 2)

Happy late Valentine's Day guys! I would have posted this yesterday, but I was kinda busy sooo yeah here it is lol.

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI!!!, extremely dark, oral (m receiving), sex, photographer!OC!character!Ari x Dom!Aaron Pierre, nicknames (daddy, baby, etc.), explicit name calling (dumbass, bitch, slut,etc...), bondage with zip ties, squirting, fingering (f receiving), humiliation, dubious consent, omniscient third person, and mentions of blackmail. Taglist: @kaylalb @alexinmotion @ovohanna24 @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @honeys-archives @fairygoround Summary: Ari leaves the right-wing room of the venue with a sullen faced Aaron Pierre which gives reason for suspicion. But, after knowing what Ari has on him, he declares that he will take a "momentary" break from the limelight and cameras to reconnect with nature. In reality, Ari plans to condition him into being her personal object. But will she always be in control?

(The story will pick up at Ari's house to clear up any confusion.)

______________________________________________________________

"Mmmmmmm, I'm sucking this dick good ain't I daddy?" Ari had immediately demanded that Aaron strip naked when they went into her house. It wasn't like Aaron was a weak man, he was over twice the size of Ari and could have cracked her head but why didn't he? Pure shock. The idea of someone close to him betraying him in such a manner left him completely stock still regarding how to handle the situation.

Aaron lets out a guttural moan as Ari deepthroats him, licking and sucking his dick like it was all she could do in life. They were out in the woods nobody knew where he was, and the press would lay off for a while because he announced his hiatus. "What was this bitch up to?" He thought to himself as he stared down into her dark brown eyes as she completely devoured him. Her braids had come unraveled because of how aggressively she was bobbing her head up and down.

"Didn't know you'd be a silent lover, Mr. Pierre. You could at least say something." Cocky, Ari was very cocky about the way she thought he was wrapped around her finger. Those beautiful everchanging eyes would close in arousal and then open with horror at the sight of Ari on her knees.

He was deep in thought and the cusp of cumming all over Ari's face, but he continued to think and think when suddenly it came to him: he would pretend to engage in her sick game. Ari wasn't a normal young woman by any means, going behind anybody's back and stealing information was a fucked up thing to do. In short words, the bitch was crazy and not in a wannabe way either.

"Ari, fuck, keep doing that thing with your tongue, please? I'll be a good boy... ah, I'm gonna cum on your face." He said with genuine arousal as Ari smirked around his length. Some dark part of him wanted to fuck her throat like a fleshlight and tie her down, really give her what she wants. In a blur, he had reluctantly pushed Ari away from him. She was on her back lying on the floor like there was nothing in the world to worry about, staring at him saying "try me" with her eyes.

Everybody that knew Aaron knew that it was very hard to make him angry and even harder to get him to physically engage with anybody, but this was a different situation he had found himself in. This woman had interrupted the flow of his career and his life because she wanted to fuck around and fuck around, he would do with her.

Recognition flashed in Ari's eyes as she stared at the 6'3" man who was no longer entertaining her antics. There was a stark contrast in his eyes, a look of pure determination and sadism brewing just underneath it all. She started to back away from him, but he just walked closer and closer backing her up against the wall.

"Enough is a fucking enough, Ari. I'm tired of this blackmail shit and the childish shit, all of it! You're making me go crazy with how fucked up it all is. Threatening my damn family and then me are you right out of your fucking mind? Like I wouldn't fight back or some shit some time or another well the novelty is gone now, dumbass. I cannot live the rest of my life knowing that you may be doing this to other people. I gotta deal with this shit, now!"

Ari was truly frightened at the deepness of his voice and the conviction in his words as he set his eyes on her. She hurriedly got up from the floor and tried to run somewhere, anywhere but he caught her by the wrist with a bruising grip. She kicked and screamed but he dragged her all the same with a passive look in his eye.

Aaron dragged her into her bedroom unknowingly and pushed her on the bed. Coldness seeped in through the windows making the bed railing cold against her back as he forced her against it. After a long time of silence, Aaron finally said, "I'm gonna tie yo ass up." Sweat dripped unto Ari's nose and she could determine what would happen if she were to be bound by the pure glee in his eyes.

He paced out of the bedroom ignoring Ari chastising and cursing him because what she said didn't even matter now... no, not really. After some time of looking through Ari's cluttered pantry and in her kitchen drawer he finally found a pack of zip ties. Ari was crumpled up on the bed like he left her and it sent a surge of arousal right to his dick at the tears running down her face.

"Nahhh don't cry now, bitch! You wasn't doing that shit when you made me eat you out at the party, you wasn't doing that shit when you was sucking my dick today. You really scared? I personally don't give a fuck. Now, if you get up and decide that you wanna run I'll slap the shit out of you and I don't even hit women but I'll make an exception for you, Ari... Goddamn monster..."

Ari shivered as Aaron secured her arms and legs with the zip ties, his eyes gleaming with something she thought only belonged to her. Deep blue and hazel eyes stared at her through thick lashes observing her every struggle through the zip ties. Her eyes darted across her room hoping that something or someone would save her, but the situation was hopeless.

Aaron practically shrugged off his clothes as he got on top of the bed with Ari and she drooled at the sight of his dick hanging between his legs, balls swinging like a pendulum. She was conflicted on how to feel: turned on by how he was taking action or scared of what those actions would be. He ripped the panties off of her and the fabric breaking against her skin caused Ari let out a mortifying scream. Upon her scream, Aaron smiled and pushed two fingers inside of her core which caused her to moan.

He stroked her g spot, his fingers rubbing against the shallow part that she could never find with her own fingers. Drool ran onto her pillowcase as he dug her out with his fingers trying to draw an orgasm out of her. The way Aaron was looking at her made her clit jump with arousal and she felt herself humping against his fingers.

"M'so good, gonna cum on your fingers.. ahh, right there, right there up some more, please? You feel so good.." Ari felt embarrassed as the muddled moans left her mouth but she couldn't stop them from coming out because of how perfect everything felt even knowing that she was tied up turned her on.

"You soaking up my fingers real good... hear that shit? I know you about to cum go ahead and do that for me baby so I can fuck you." His voice pushed her over the edge and she squirted all over his fingers and the pressure pushed the two intrusions out. Aaron began to rapidly slap her clit with restrained force causing her to form a little puddle beneath where she lay.

He slapped his dick on her mound before rubbing the head in her arousal and pushed in so slowly that Ari could feel every single inch. It was like something she had never felt before and she found herself squirming as he pushed more of himself in. His dick was really splitting her open and she knew in that moment that her ass was his now in a whole lot of ways.

"The fuck you running from, Ari? You want this dick that's why you did all that dumbassery with the photos and the personal information because why else would you go do it? I bet your mama them ashamed they raised a slut like you. But, you love it don't you, Ari? This feeling of being completely. taken. over." He gently thrusted inside her three times, and it already felt like she was being pushed over the edge for a second time. He was digging her shit out like he hadn't fucking anyone in a while, turning her out like it was his job to do it.

After every thrust, his balls would smack against her clit making her yelp but she couldn't even touch him with the way her hands were bound. He flipped Ari over on her stomach and drove his dick back in with a passion hitting every single spot inside of her that had her vision blurry with tears. The bed was creaking as he fucked into her, his brows furrowed with pure, unadulterated lust as he felt Ari's walls flutter around him.

"Ohhh shit! You better cum on this dick, bitch. Mmmm, give me that shit. You thought it was cool didn't you? Blackmail me and then fuck me the rest of your life, right? Well, as you can see the shit didn't work and it never would have. Didn't nobody tell you not to go chasing after every dream? Now look at you, dream turned into a nightmare didn't it?" Ari came around his dick as he kept fucking into her at a punishing pace because he had not yet cum.

As Ari felt his throbbing dick against her walls and the veins rubbing against her insides a growing irony began to form inside of her head: the secluded nature of her house wasn't really helping her right now and the fact that she got the zip ties prior because she thought that she would be tying him up. It was like her life was being written to go exactly the way she didn't want it to go.

"Fuck I'm gonna cum in this pussy. Hope you on birth control, Ari." He grumbled as he thrusted into her for a last time, completely filled her to the brim with his seed as she whined from the full feeling.

Aaron pushed Ari back on her back and stared at her for like 10 minutes. The birds were chirping happily outside because it was morning now and the warmth from the windows did nothing to thaw the coolness inside of the house. His eyes were a forest green now with a hint of hazel but the lust never left his gaze and now it was targeted.

"Ari, I'll play the sick game with you since it seems like you got everything set up for us to play it. I know you still got them photos on your laptop and stuff but it's ight. Everytime I see you going out of your way to try to defame me and fuck with my family I'll do something even worse than this. Just play with me and see what happens, Ari."

To be truthful, Ari found herself wanting to test his boundaries all over again.

[socgf]

better left unsaid - dallas winston x reader

it's valentine's day, and reader finds something she shouldn't have in dally's room.

wc: 959

warnings: none just fluff <3

it's not like you had any crazy expectations for what dallas winston had in mind for valentine's day. sure, you spent all your time with each other. you'd gotten real close, in every sense of that word. but he would avoid that commitment conversation like the plague, so you weren't exactly expecting a declaration of love or a bouquet of roses.

but flat out acting like the holiday didn't exist? that was just too far.

the two of you had just left buck's after you'd spent the afternoon doing homework on his bed while he sat around bothering you. like every friday night, dally had stolen the thunderbird to take you to the nightly double. but this was just a routine occurrence, of course. not like he would ever believe in such a mushy holiday.

still, you'd hoped for something - a box of chocolate, some grocery store flowers, maybe a card. you try to take your mind off it as dally puts his foot on the gas, fiddling with his pockets haphazardly.

suddenly, his face scrunches up in frustration and he grumbles, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel as he cuts the gas. 

"hey. do me a favor, will ya? grab my smokes from my desk. top drawer on the left." 

you roll your eyes but go back anyway. his room is the usual mess - clothes draped over the chair, a couple beer bottles on the windowsill, your textbooks and notes spread out on the bed. you yank the drawer open, already expecting to have to dig past god-knows-what to find the cigarettes.

instead, you find a stack of papers shoved carelessly to the side.

you don't mean to snoop, but something about them seems out of the ordinary. it's not like he's the type to be keeping a diary, but these aren't just receipts or homework. as you take a closer look, you see they're notebook pages crumpled at the edges, ripped out hastily, the ink a bit smudged and messy. 

then you see the date at the top of the first one. an entry from over a year ago. you hesitate for a moment, knowing this must be personal. a flicker of guilt runs through you, but you can't help paging through the headers on the first couple of slips. you swear you can make out your name somewhere between the lines, and against your better judgment, you start reading.

november 5th, 1963

she fell asleep on my shoulder at the drive-in today. she really needs to stop doing that. swear i almost decked steve in his face for laughing at it, but i knew she'd hate if i did it. it's funny, she fucking mumbles in her sleep. i swear she said my name a couple times under her breath. i acted like i didn't hear it but i can't stop thinking about it.

january 17th, 1964

she had to babysit pony today and she dragged me along to keep her company. i was supposed to do a run for buck, but i'll have to figure that out later. it's funny, she was real apologetic about it, like i'm ever gonna be mad that i have to spend time with her.

april 28th, 1964

we were watching some stupid rerun in her living room and i guess i must've been exhausted. she started running her fingers through my hair all sweet like she always does, messing it up. didn't have the energy to tell her to knock it off. next thing i know i wake up laying down on her side. she says i knocked out. whatever.

august 12th, 1964

buck decided to go sticking his nose where he doesn't belong last night… asking me about her. why i won't make it official? make what official? i come to her window every damn night. she lays on my shoulder and tells me all her secrets. not like i let anyone else make me act that way. that's official enough for me, far as i'm concerned.

november 1st, 1964

i swear she did something different with her hair today, or maybe her makeup or something, or her outfit. whatever it was. i just couldn't stop staring at her. she's so pretty it makes me forget what i'm thinking when i look at her…christ, i'm sounding like a fucking sap. if buck ever found this, i would have to kill him.

december 9th, 1964

i found her crying today when i walked in. i wanted to hug her or something, kiss her on the forehead and make everything better. i didn't. just sat there smoking by her side until she stopped, let her get everything off her chest. then she had the nerve to say 'thank you dal,' like i did anything special. i have no idea what the hell she sees in me.

january 28th, 1965

glory, she's got the worst taste in music. i told her that today and she threw a fucking pillow at me. truth is i would listen to the beatles for the rest of my goddamn life if it meant she let me lay in her bed and listen to her sing along. it's cute.

february 3rd, 1965

if she finds these i'm gonna have to tell her it's for an english assignment or something. no, never mind. even she wouldn't believe that. man, i'm fucked.

you reach the last entry in the pile, this one laid out nicely with neater handwriting, on a fresh sheet of paper:

february 14th, 1965

if you find this, happy valentine's day. figured there's no point in keeping these a secret. i'm sorry i'm not better at saying it. you should know i'm not much for words. but i mean everything i wrote, doll, swear.

a.n. writing this made my heart all warm and fuzzy haha happy (late) valentine's day guys!!! hope you like it!

[stevesgother]

Thanks for taking requests!!! Could we get some subSteve and domreader after a date and she’s driving him crazy with lingerie and maybes he’s handcuffed or can’t touch 😈

omg i'm so glad you asked bc i've had this idea for ages and now i'm finally executing it @doomsdaybby 18+ below the cut!

Pegging your boyfriend wasn't the first idea that came to mind while you were wandering the intimates aisle at Sears, but that's where the night had taken you.

It was something the two of you had talked about briefly in the past. Steve was generally more vanilla where you were more of the experimental type. You always say you'd try anything once.

You never minded that about him though; you'd even go as far as to say you loved it about him. Sex with Steve was always the most intimate and gentle thing you'd ever experienced. Like the two of your souls intertwining and becoming one; full of hand holding and intense eye contact.

"You wanna what?" Steve asks you, eyes a little wide.

"I think you'd like it, Stevie, and if you don't- we'll never do it again, okay?"

When he doesn't say anything, you push a little, "Do you trust me?"

"Of course I do,"

"Then let's try it," you suggest, rubbing his arm in a soothing gesture, "the second you want to stop you can just say, i don't know, pineapple or something."

He nods and your face lights up. How could he ever be expected to say no to such an angel?

That's how Steve ended up tethered firmly to your shared bedframe with two silk ties, as not to hurt his wrists. You had come sauntering out of your bathroom in the sexiest set of white lace lingerie Steve thinks he's ever seen. The cups hold the weight of your breasts perfectly, giving you just enough cleavage for it to still look natural. It was classically elegant and the hottest thing he's ever seen you wear; even complete with a little lace garter secured snugly to your thigh.

You could hear his breath hitch in his throat as you approached him. One knee at a time, you moved to straddle him on the bed as seductively as possible.

He already looked like a disheveled mess-- his hair mussed in all different directions and a pink tinge spreading from his sternum all the way to the tips of his ears. You leaned down and pressed hot, open-mouthed kisses along that very path before reaching his ear and whispering, "Breathe, baby."

He makes a concerted effort to control his breaths. Out of nervousness or excitement, he's not sure.

You begin by kissing a path from his earlobe to his mouth, deepening the kiss with you tongue once you reach his waiting lips. His instinct is to touch you-- to rove his hands up and down your thighs or grope your breasts, but his hands are met with immediate resistance when he tries to.

You don't flag him for it, trying to go easy on him; simply continuing your ministrations on his mouth and starting a low grind of your hips over his pelvis.

He whines into your open mouth, clearly feeling impatient despite his earlier trepidation, so you lick and kiss a path down his chest-- stopping to swirl a tongue around his perked nipple. You've never done that before, and it sends Steve reeling. His hips buck involuntarily and a whimper of your name escapes him.

"Do-- Do that again," he pants, so you do.

You conclude your journey down his torso by mouthing at his waiting length through his briefs. Again, he tries to fist his hand in your hair before remembering that he cannot and huffing in frusteration.

"I know, poor baby," you mock pout at him, though you really do feel some level of sympathy for his current predicament-- despite your knowledge of how much he'll enjoy what comes next.

You pull his boxers down his hairy thighs, letting his cock spring free. Just from some heavy petting, he's already leaking and a shade of fiery red. He groans deep in his chest as you take his tip in your wet mouth, swirling your deft tongue along his slick and collecting the pearling precum there.

You hum and moan some of your own, knowing just how delicious the vibrations will feel against his shaft. His chest heaves up and down more quickly now, so you decide to check in.

"How're you doin' love? This okay?"

"Yes--" he breathes, "More, please,"

"So polite," you smile before taking his length as far into your throat as it can physically go.

As you bob up and down on his length, your nose brushing the thatch of hair at his base with every downward stroke, you bring a finger to the space between his cheeks; circling experimentally. You didn't want to warn him first and make him more anxious, and he jolts at the sensation.

"Relax, Steve," you hush, "I promise it'll feel so good,"

He trusts you with ever microfiber of his being, so he let's you continue without question. He hasn't been this nervous for sex with you since your first time together.

You bring your index and middle fingers to your lips and suck them into your mouth, getting them properly soaked before bringing them back to his hole and continuing your efforts. His cock tenses and jumps when you breach his entrance just slightly.

"You still with me?" You ask, "This okay?"

"Mhm--" he responds, eyes pinched tightly closed, "Feels good,"

"Let me grab some lube,"

You reach over to the bedside table next to Steve's head and his eyes follow you the entire time. When you acquire the bottle, you pop the top open and squeeze a generous amount onto your fingers.

"Gonna be a little cold," you warn.

Only once you're deemed slippery enough do you take your index finger and fully sheath him on it.

"H--oh, that's good, baby, keep going," he moans from where he lays in front of you on the bed.

You spend close to fifteen minutes just like that. Easing him onto your fingers while mouthing over his cock. Eventually you stop touching him there altogether, only focusing on where your fingers are knuckle-deep inside him. You begin to pump them in and out a bit faster now that he's had a chance to acclimate.

"Good boy," you praise and he whines instantly. You'll be locking that away for future use. "Want you to come like this, think you can do that for me?" You ask in the most sultry voice you can muster despite how wet you're growing between your own legs. Watching him unravel like this might be the sexiest thing you've ever done.

"Yeah, baby-- don't stop," tears begin to brim his lashes, and you can't help but take some pity on him. Your free hand comes up to massage his sac as you continue your work on his ass.

You've never seen anyone come untouched before, let alone Steve, but here you think it actually might happen. So you add one more finger to give him that final push over the edge of ecstasy.

"Ahh!" He cries out and his cock tense that much more, "Gonna come baby, you're gonna make me--" he can't even finish his sentence with the pleasure you're giving him right now.

You bring your mouth to replace your hands on his balls and that's it. The coil in his belly twists beyond it's snapping point and he's coming undone with a shout. It only spurs you on more.

Once he's rode out his high, you pull your fingers from him and he writhes with overstimulation. You crawl your way up his body, peppering his damp skin with kisses as you go.

"You did so good, Stevie," you praise, "love you so much,"

"Love you too, baby," he breathes as he plants a languid kiss against your lips. You can feel his grin against your skin.

"Can you untie me?" He chuckles and glances to where he's still attached to the bedpost.

"Oh, yeah, obviously,"

The second he's free he envelopes you in a suffocating embrace. In any other circumstance, Steve is the giver. You're just glad you were able to give him a taste of what he's always given you.

[cloversnstrawberries]

oc intro post ! ! young!serial killer grandpa & time traveler reader

masterlist | requests open !

warnings; Mentions of violence, murder, serial killings, Everett's superiority/god complex, misanthropy (hatred of the human race), manipulation, possessive behavior, mental instability, and there might be more that i forgot :( if i missed a major one, please let me know and i'll add it !!!

additional notes; i read "garden of the dead flowers" a while back (in which i totally did the daily pass thing. yeah. totally!), and i thought it had a lot of potential for a platonic yan,, i didn't like the ending much for other reasons, but i'm fixing it here. with my oc. as god intended, of course. of course, if you're familiar with the webcomic at all, this isn't really that similar; except for the very core basis ^^ this is the option that won the second poll :D

! ! introduction blurb & moodboard below the cut ! !

Everett has met a lot of people before, that's just how it is, being the son of a wealthy businessman and a socialite. He's met a lot of strange people as well, eccentric people that makes Everett need a double-take.

But none quite so strange as you, who simply... showed up in the back garden one day. You were disoriented, wearing odd clothes as you patted around your pockets for... something. A handkerchief, maybe?

Either way, you'd be an easy kill. He'd never seen you around before, perhaps a runaway then. Nobody would miss you, in that case. And If they did, then they'd have a difficult time tracing you all the way to Everett's backyard.

But something made that train of thought stop before it even fully departed. Something about you made him hesitate, and subsequently approach and offer you help. To pull you up, dazed as you were, and help you into the sitting room.

You continued to be quite out of it, and when he returned, tea in hand-- you took it without question. You hadn't said a word, not to him or otherwise. All you did was look around, face pinched like you trying to figure something out.

By the end of it, Everett isn't quite sure what made him take such a liking to you. When you opened up, you tripped over your words-- you sounded funny, regardless of that. Saying words and phrases he's never heard, but he didn't pay much mind to that.

Regardless of your little verbal stumbles, you ended up telling him that you 'don't know how you got here', which he assumed you meant the town in general, or maybe just his backyard specifically.

The first conversation he genuinely held with you, you would always give these nonsensical answers that provided no more knowledge than before. When he asked "Where are you from?" You'd respond with "Not here.", or how you got here-- you'd always pause, and try to think it over before finally settling on "...I don't know."

Amnestic, maybe? That's what he could make of it, anyways. Other than your dazed behavior, you showed no real signs of a concussion. He set you up in a guest room-- and he doesn't know what makes him do it. Even as you wake up the next morning, no longer so confused--

Usually, he wouldn't really like people like you. Those who treat him so casually, those who treat everybody like that; like they were everybody's pal. It irked Everett to no end before,

So why is it different when you do it? With your strange words, strange habits, and even stranger way of dress-- what's got him so interested in you?

What sets you apart of his usual fare--? He could go and argue that he helped you recover so he could add you to his roster of victims, because he's not one for kicking someone when their down...

But he couldn't even fool himself with that lie. Really, he doesn't know why or how you managed to worm your way into his good graces so quickly-- enough where he let you stay in his home for the time being.

He could be harboring a runaway, either from a family or maybe even if the law. That could put him in risk, if cops come looking for you-- find his home, found evidence of what he does in and around it.

Again, it's just something about you... It makes it impossible to even think of driving a knife straight through your heart. What would be easy for him with everyone else, was like fighting an uphill battle when it came to you.

Either way, he's not letting you go now. Not after week of getting to know you-- after getting you new clothes to help fit in, getting his parents to make the school take you as a student. Just so you didn't have to sit and rot in that big house all day, of course.

He won't let you outside the grounds. Maybe because he doesn't want his new friend taken, the only person that's been entirely immune to his constant need to hurt others-- either by yourself, or anyone who's looking for you.

But he doesn't tell you that. He says he just wants to make sure you're healthy and not about to keel over from an untreated brain injury and whatnot.

Everett has grown quite fond of you, even if you're a little strange.

Maybe it's because you're so strange, that you're exempt from his usually unforgiving drive to prey on others, and rip them limb from limb like they were bugs under a microscope.

[a-sound-sol]

¹⁾ “don’t tell me; you had so much fun with me last year, that you just couldn’t resist spending it with me again.”

from the prompt list :)

fuck about it // k. bakugou

quirkless au, MDNI, hints of nsfw, enemies -> fwb -> lovers

a/n: inspo: waterparks, chappell roan, and bad bunny !!! shout out to sydsuki/kidney <33

This summer was going to be different, that's what you told yourself.

Last year, you fell victim to toned abs and biceps, on the most infuriating man you had ever met. He angered you and frustrated you, he always had. You've known Katsuki Bakugou since middle school, and you've always despised him.

Until that night at the beach, you had done your best to avoid even being alone with him.

But the bonfire sparked something else in you, perhaps in him too.

All your friends had gathered by the shore to celebrate the end of college, finals finished and degrees in hand. You spent the night laughing with your friends, relieved the stress of school had finally ended.

As Denki and Mina slowly convinced everyone else to go swimming, you were left with Katsuki. His eyes flicked from the fire to meet yours.

"You look good tonight," he subtly bit his lower lip, eyes falling to your hips before meeting your gaze again.

"Okay? Where's the insult?" you bark back. You were adults, but that didn't mean he didn't still piss you off to no degree.

"No insult, just admiring the view." He smirked and moved around the fire, sitting next to you.

You tried to hold your composure, you really did. But you were starting to sweat, and your face was heating up.

"You know yn, you've always been a bit of a brat. Can't believe you won't look at me still. Not the same person I used to be." Katsuki mumbles, his mouth a bit too close to your ear. The hairs on your neck stood up.

"You'll always be the jerk from middle school to me, Katsuki." You bite back. He grips your chin gently, forcing you to look into his eyes. "'M not that guy. You've known that for a while."

Your eyes shoot open, almost getting lost in his. You mentally curse yourself, you can't fall for that shit again. Sure, you'd had a crush on Katsuki when you first met, but it's not like he ever felt the same. Plus, he's a jerk... right?

"Come on, let me prove it to you," he said before pressing his lips against your neck, brushing them softly against your skin. Your eyes fluttered shut as you lost yourself in the pleasure, in his touch.

When he looked into your eyes, you saw his darkening as you wrapped your arm around his neck. "Parents've got a beach house up the road..." he said, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "Wanna come with me?"

You hate how quickly you nodded your head, and how fast he was able to get your clothes off. You hated how good it felt to be with him. You hated it so much, you hadn't spoken since last summer.

Until today.

You agreed to meet up with the crew. Schedules had been harder to align the past year, with everyone's careers taking off in different directions. You decide to show up late, hoping Katsuki had decided to leave early, since he's always on time.

Your face falls when you walk into Yaoyarozu's mansion, and the first face you see is that spikey haired jerk. He's standing against the wall, stirring a glass of whiskey, facing the door. He's been waiting for you.

He looks up from his drink to meet you with a smug smirk. “Don’t tell me; you had so much fun with me last year, that you just couldn’t resist spending it with me again."

“Shut the fuck up Kats. You know you had just as much fun as I did.” You reply, walking up to him. There was a fire in your step, one you didn't even track. Your chest was suddenly pressed against his, his arm snaking around your waist.

"You know, the extras are all outside. Nobody would even hear us," he whispers, nibbling your earlobe as your body shakes slightly in anticipation.

"Kats, come on, I came to see everyone, not you." You whine, knowing you're feeling weak in the knees already.

"Well, I only came to see you. 'M patient though. Waited for you all year." He blushes, and for a moment, you question what he means by that. He'd probably hooked up with plenty of people since you last saw him... right?

"W-wait, Kats.... waited for me.... meaning...?"

"You know exactly what I mean, dummy." He takes your hand, rubbing his fingers across your knuckles. "Been waiting for you for years at this point."