#something finally actual drabble sized!

[rosenclaws]

Congratulations on the 600 followers!!!

Can I request a smut/NSFW drabble.. I'm thinking worst logan..

Neighbour(?) Reader got asked out as a joke and he finds her upset.. (plus size if possible if not no worriessss!!!!)

Love your work!!

And congrats again on all the followers that's AMAZING!!

warnings: SMUT, MINORS DNI, fem!reader, plus sized!reader, oral (f!receiving), dirty talk, logan low key has a thigh kink, pet names (princess and pretty girl)

600 follower drabble masterlist

wc: 1.3k

a/n: Worst logan my love. Also this is my first time writing explicitly plus sized so please let me know if I need to change anything!! I hope you like it <33 Also this turned into way more than a drabble lol.

Men really were the fucking worst. Actually the fucking worst. What reason could someone have to do something so cruel? For a joke? A laugh? To hurt someone so badly just for fun? You sat at the damn restaurant for an hour checking your phone.

When you finally did get ahold of that asshole he just laughed at you. Told you it was a joke, that he'd never seriously be into someone like you. Your eyes welled with tears but you refused to let them fall in public. God, you can still feel the stares of people around you. The whispers.

How sad, that poor girl.

Did you see her check her phone over and over again?

Don't stare, she probably already feels bad enough...

Their words stung more than that assholes. You aren't stupid, you know that you aren't stereotypically attractive. You don't match the girls in magazines.

But that doesn't mean you don't deserve basic human respect. You didn't even like the guy, in fact, based on his horrible personality you were really doing him a favor.

You angrily stomped up the stairs and through the hallway. You should feel bad about the noise but you just can't bring yourself to care. You slam your door closed and toss your things onto your couch. A knock on the door almost makes you scream. Whoever it was needs to take the hint.

"What." You say as you rip open your door.

"Oh. It's you." You say flatly.

Any other time you'd be thrilled to see your hot neighbor at your door but right now it felt like another reminder of your failed love life.

"What crawled up your ass? Could hear you muttering a mile away." He asks and you roll your eyes.

"Brought you a peace offering." He holds up a bottle of wine and you decide to let him in.

"You're a man Logan. Why are men such shallow assholes?" You take another sip.

"Date gone bad princess?"

"I wouldn't even call it a date." You swirl your drink around in the glass.

To admit what really happened feels embarrassing. Especially to Logan. You had a massive crush on the man. That started the minute you met him. Your nice but weird neighbor Wade introduced the two of you one night. The second you looked into those gorgeous eyes and shook his big hands it was over.

"Hello? You still there?" Logan waves his hand in front of your face and you snap out of your thoughts. Deciding this day couldn't get any worse so you might as well just tell him.

"I got stood up. Turns out he asked me out as a joke."

"What a fucking dick." Logan growls. His hand tightened around the beer can in his hand.

"He said he'd never be into someone like me." You say with a huff. Drinking the last of your wine.

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

“Come on Logan, you’re a million years old you know what I’m talking about.” You gesture to yourself and it seems to click in his head.

“So what? Who fucking cares about that.” The can crushes under his intense grip the longer he thinks about it. You pour yourself more wine before answering him.

“Apparently, most people do.” 

“Well, he’s an idiot. Anyone would be lucky to have you.” He sees you brush him off and it bothers him. He’s not the kind of guy to lie to make you feel better. So why you don’t believe him is beyond him. He sees things as they are.

“I know a beautiful woman when I see one princess.” He smirks as he inches closer to you.

You’ve been the subject of Logan’s wet dreams for a while now. Your sweet laugh and pretty face. The sinful things he’s thought about. He’d feel ashamed but he knows you’ve got the hots for him too. Your staring isn’t as subtle as you think. Plus his super hearing allows for him to pick up on your more…intimate moments. He doesn’t mean to hear them, but he does.

“Logan…” Your breath catches in your throat as he cages you into the couch. His strong arms are on full display for you as you shrink into the couch. He’s got this feral grin on his face that both excites you and makes you nervous.

“Only boys can’t see past that bullshit. I’m a man. A man who knows how to please a woman like you.” He purrs.

Are you dreaming? Is this really happening? His knee nudges its way between your legs. The rough material of his jeans rubs against your panties. The friction makes you squirm.

“You gonna let me make you feel good pretty girl?” He whispers in your ear. His hand slips under your dress, fingers brushing over your clothed cunt. Teasing your skin with his touch.

“Please fuck!” You gasp as you claw at his shirt.

He reaches and tears it to shreds. Your mouth waters as you see his back muscles stretching and bulging, free of any clothing to hide him away. He’s a man on a mission as he lifts your dress up. His massive shoulders push your legs apart. You couldn’t close them even if you wanted to, which you don’t. He pulls your panties to the side and licks his lips.

“Just know she’s ripe and sweet. All for me.” His claws peek out and your heartbeat quickens as the sharp metal cuts through the fabric of your underwear.

“There we go.” He throws the scraps to the side and wraps his arms around your thighs. Hands digging into your soft skin. He squeezes your thighs and you hear a low purr coming from his throat.

“Fuck!” You moan as Logan buries his face in your pussy. There’s no holding back as he laps like an animal feasting on its favorite treat.

“So fucking sweet, god bury me in these thighs.” He mumbles.

His brain fogs with pleasure as he buries his tongue as far as it will go. You’re trapped in feeling his every torturous move. His grip is bruisingly delicious.

“Logan logan fuck don’t stop!” You tug hard on his hair as you grind your hips against his mouth. You’re losing it in pleasure as his tongue flicks across your clit.

“That’s what I’m fucking talking about.” He lifts his head, eyes clouded with lust as he tilts his head back. Savoring the taste of you as he prepares to dive back in. He’d die a happy man just to be suffocated between your beautiful thighs.

“Stupid fucking boys, you don’t need them right pretty girl? Not when you have me. I’ll make you come so hard you’ll never think of anyone else again.” You nod along to whatever he is saying.

Your head is up in the clouds as he sucks on your clit. Determined to make you scream his name. His wish is granted as he relentlessly plays toys with your clit. His tongue works magic as he brings your orgasm crashing down.

“Logan!” Your eyes roll to the back of your head as you lose yourself in pleasure.

Your senses muddle together as whimpers tumble from your lips, body buzzing with a warm and fuzzy feeling. It doesn’t last long as Logan refuses to let up. Working you into overstimulation until you’re pushing his head away weakly.

“Too much for you?” He licks his lips, a cocky smile on his face.

“No, I just. Need a break.” You say breathlessly as you try and control your breathing.

Your eyes travel down his chest. Admiring his muscles and stupidly attractive arms. His cock is straining in his pants. You let out a small yelp as he picks you up effortlessly.

Man, you love his mutant strength. Logan gently places you on your bed. He toys with your dress as he resists the urge to rip it apart.

“What was that guy's name again?” He asks as he unbuckles his belt. You open your mouth to answer but he cuts you off. He didn’t want an answer anyway.

“Doesn’t matter, You won’t remember it by the time I’m done with you.” 

[reverie-starlight]

gn!ereader, no physical descriptions. FLUFFFFF!!! suna is worried about you suffocating/being a murder victim for like 2 seconds but it’s really not bad at all. reader has odd sleeping habits. I don’t like taking naps, but I imagine napping with suna would make it more enjoyable. extremely short drabble based on the position I woke up in this morning.

the one constant in this world, something suna rintarou can count on, even when everything else has been turned upside down, is you sleeping in outrageously uncomfortable (yet comical) positions everyday without fail.

he doesn’t know how you do it- he’s too much of a restless sleeper to knock out if the level of light is slightly different than what he’s used to, let alone while curled up uncomfortably.

but instead of trying to understand, he just takes on the task of moving you out of said positions as gently as possible.

he’s woken up to your arm in his face, your foot against the wall, halfway off the bed… he’s seen it all at this point, and today is no different.

now, suna’s chill about most things. he’s the calm to your chaos, the balancing factor to your anxious personality. he’s rational when you need it, which is most of the time… but when it comes to your safety, rationality goes out the window.

he comes home from practice to find you napping in your queen sized bed, arms above your head and a pillow laying over your face. if he didn’t know any better, he’d think you were a murder victim.

your chest is moving up and down, your fingers are twitching as you dream, but it’s not enough. he needs to see your eyes and hear your voice to settle the queasy feeling growing rapidly in his stomach.

he yanks the pillow off of your face, not even thinking about snapping a picture of this to add to his album of your strange sleeping habits, and gently guides your arms down to your sides. if he wasn’t beside himself with worry, he’d be in awe of how you never seem to lose circulation with your positions.

your eyes flutter open and his small sigh of relief is muffled by your sleepy whines. “rin? you’re home?”

he moves to hover on top of you when you weakly tug at him to lean in closer and flicks your forehead. “idiot, you scared me. the only reason I knew you were alive is because of your snoring.”

that wakes you up a bit more and you gape at him. “excuse me, I do not snore!”

he gives you a look that says are you sure about that?

of course you don’t snore, every higher power knew better than to disrupt my sleep schedule more than you already do, he thinks, but he’s only trying to cover his worry up now that he knows you’re okay. you seem to catch on anyway and wrap your arms around his neck. “I’m sorry rinnie,” and he sighs at the nickname you only break out when you’re still sleepy and delirious. “thanks for caring about me.”

he kisses the very same spot he flicked earlier and then leaves a trail of them down to your nose, your cheeks, and finally your lips. “how many times do I have to tell you to stop thanking me for that?”

you don’t respond and instead pull him even closer. “nap with me, baby. you legally have to since you interrupted mine, actually.”

he snorts at the irony. his complaints about your restlessness while sleeping are all in jest, of course. he’d never dream of trading in all your quirks for one second.

“fine,” he exaggerates a sigh and rolls over onto his back. he just knows that you’ll want to cuddle into him as if he’s really the teddy bear you insist he is.

“but only for twenty minutes, we still have to be active members of society and do some grocery shopping later.”

you ignore him and nuzzle your way under his arm as he sets an alarm on his phone, using the beat of his heart to lull you to sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

very short but I had to get the idea out. I have a longer atsumu fic coming soon, so stay tuned!

hope you enjoyed!!

tagging: @dira333 @emmyrosee @6okuto

[dstryvampres]

drabble or short fic, where the reader is a ballerina and cillian (or any of his other characters) is her teacher and they start an affair??? please arhgggh i love your fics!

Doll Parts

Cillian Murphy x Ballerina!Reader

Warnings: age gap(reader is 20, cillian is late 30s early 40s), power imbalance, smoking mention, fingering

Word count: 2k

A/N: thank you so so so much for the request ! this honestly was a prompt i’d never thought of but really just ended up loving :)

You had essentially been raised by your ballet studio. Years and years spent in the small confines of the studio, moving from the soft and simple preschool classes to the advanced stages. As you moved up your class sizes became smaller and smaller, and your teacher’s became stricter. Finally, as you prepare to audition for the role of Copelia in your company’s spring ballet production. You have been given the honour of training one on one with one of the studio’s ballet instructors. Unfortunately for you, they had paired you up with Mr. Murphy, a teacher you had during your late teens that you found distracted you far more than he actually helped you. You were infatuated with him ever since you first walked into that class with him at 16, and it stayed that way now as he watched you stretch before practice, four years later. His blue eyes were haunting at points, analysing every inch of you at almost every second you were in this practice space together. At almost every moment he tore you apart with his eyes, and you couldn’t get enough of him.

Every night you left the studio to go back home you continually thought of just him. The small touches on the waist as he adjusted your posture, his smooth voice as he whispered praises in your ear, and how you longed for him to press his lips against yours. God, how you longed for him to do anything to soothe the fire that he lit in your body.

Mr. Murphy clapped his hands together, startling you out of your thoughts.

“Okay. Do you think you’re ready to run through the routine from the top, one last time?” Mr Murphy asks, walking over to stand in front of the mirrors

You nod, picking yourself off from the floor and to the centre of the room. Taking a deep breath in before going into the starting position.

“One, two, three, four,” Mr Murphy counts in, clapping his hands in a steady beat as you move through the routine.

Your legs still ache from practice before your break as you start up the routine, but as any dancer at your level would, you work through it. Focusing elsewhere on your breathing and the steps. Gentle leaps, spins, and footwork move you around the fake stage you’re on to the beat of Mr Murphy’s clapping. You’re doing well enough that he hasn’t stopped you yet, able to make it through 3/4th of the routine before you hear anything.

“Stop!” Mr Murphy shouts, and you freeze with your hands above your head and a foot off the ground.

He walks over, shoes making soft thumps as he approaches you. The sound stops as you feel a hand settle on your waist, you close your eyes as his other hand moves to the thigh of your raised leg.

“I understand that you’re tired,” Mr Murphy sighs out, directly in your ear, “but you can’t start to get sloppy when it’s almost over. Your work needs to be consistent all the way through sweetheart.”

You want to melt at the pet name, but stay still as he pushes your raised leg upwards a little bit more. His breath fans over your ear and cheek, grabbing ahold of your chin lightly and turning your head to face the mirror with the hand that was once on your waist. His touch is soft, light, and warm, something that will keep you up tonight. Now the two of you are cheek to cheek, it’s so intimate that for a second you falter, but are able to gain your composure quickly. He smiles at your falter and clicks his tongue.

“Look at how I’ve positioned you,” Mr Murphy whispers, the movement of his lips tickling your cheek.

He slowly removes himself from you, but his touch still feels like it’s burned under your skin, like it always does after practice.

“Continue,” he demands when he is situated in front of the mirror once again.

You start from where he left you, pushing through the last minute of your routine with as much energy as you could manage. Finishing up in a wilted position on the ground, breathing heavily as you wait for any sort of feedback from your instructor. A couple seconds pass before you hear a slow clapping from him. Slowly you look up to be met with a warm smile from Mr Murphy, a foreign sense of joy peaking through his normally harsh and critical exterior.

“Well, that was quite wonderful. Dare I say one of the best practices we’ve gotten through so far. If you continue improving like this for the next three weeks you could land a sizeable role,” Mr Murphy says, walking over to you. He sticks out a hand to help you up, and you take it gently.

“Thank you. All my progress is thanks to you,” you reply meekly, not able to look into your instructor's face now. He’s far too close than what is professional, but it’s not like you mind.

“Would you want to go out and get a drink? Just a small celebration, on me,” Mr Murphy asks, whispering it into your ear. A secret you know that if you take in, you won’t be able to back out.

“Yes,” you whisper back, face getting warm with excitement.

He pats you on the shoulder, tracing his hand down your arm and to your hand before squeezing it. Your chest feels tingly and heavy at the action.

“I’ll meet you outside the studio then,” his hand is slowly pulled away from your own before he leaves the room.

You know why Mr Murphy wants to take you out of the studio tonight. It’s the same reason he looks at you with his icy blue eyes in that way, it’s the same reason why his touch lingers on you for far longer than necessary, and why it’s only you he ever praises and compliments. Still, you wonder if you’re right about your hunch as you meet your instructor outside your studio tonight. He stands leaned up under a light post in the snow, a cigarette between his lips. As soon as he sees you he takes one last puff before squashing it on the ground.

“Hello,” He greets, offering a sly smile to you. His cheeks and ear tips are red from the cold, you almost feel guilty about making him wait for you out here.

“Hi.” You don’t voice your guilt to him, too worried about embarrassing yourself.

“You’re one of my best students,” Mr Murphy states, stepping closer as he tucks a piece of hair behind your ear, “Don’t tell anyone I said this, but I think you’re one of the best dancers at the studio.”

Now he’s so close that the condensation of your breath is mixing together with his. Forming a big cloud above your heads each time either of you take a breath. You stare into his eyes for a couple seconds, searching for what he means by any of this. He smells of cigarette smoke and vanilla. A hand cups your cheek.

“Are you cold?” He offers as a horrible excuse for his close proximity and the hand on your cheek. You both know this, so he leans in slowly, and your eyes flutter shut.

His lips are pressed against your own, softly, gently, like if he pushes any harder against you you’ll shatter. Slowly he pulls away, eyes scanning your face for any discomfort. This time it’s you that pulls him into a kiss, hungrier and harder than the last one. You both pull away.

“I am a pretty good bartender myself,” is all Mr Murphy has to say to get you to follow him back to his apartment.

You walk with haste beside him, arms brushing against one another, almost, the whole way there. Once you get into the elevator he’s already unzipping your jacket and kissing you again, hot and passionate. You know years of longing for him are being released on your end tonight.

Soon enough you’re sitting criss cross on your dance instructors couch, taking in the fairly nice space. Mr Murphy comes to sit beside you after he’a put away your coat. His hand comes to rest on your upper thigh, rubbing it softly and slowly. You bat your eyelashes at him and he leans in to kiss you again, this time you get enough courage to slip your tongue into his mouth. His hands settle on your waist and direct you into his lap to sit. Pulling back from the kiss just so he can stare at you for a brief second, perched upon his lap, before bringing you back into the kiss.

His kisses alternate between your lips and your neck, filling you with hot desire as you trace up and down his torso with your hands. In return Mr Murphy slides his hands under your skirt, toying at your panties underneath.

“Do you want me to finger you baby?” He prys, biting at your ear to punctuate the sentence.

“Yes,” you breath out, grinding down against his lap.

His lips are back on yours once again, pushing you off his lap and into the cushions of his couch. You shudder as he starts to trace your slit through your panties, only able to release now just how wet you are. Spreading your legs open to try to tell him to start fingering you already. The message seems to come across, as he flips the front of your skirt up and pulls your panties down your legs.

Mr Murphy breaks from the kiss to stare at your pussy, spreading it open with his fingers and toying around your wet hole. You whine, bucking your hips up demanding more. He clicks his tongue as he looks back up at you, but still goes back to kissing you. Sliding a digit up and down your pussy, gathering your wetness before sliding a finger in.

You gasp into his mouth at the finger, feeling him smile at your reaction. He pumps it lazily in and out of your wet hot cunt. Not going deep enough, it makes you want so much more. He slides in a second finger, earning him a moan from you. Now with two fingers inside of you, he finger fucks you properly.

He sets a steady pace, hitting different spots inside you each time until he finally hits the spot that has you moaning into his mouth with every push of his fingers. His fingers are long and thick, something you’ve craved for so long to be inside of you. Nights of dreaming about gagging on his fingers, and about him making you cum on them has now come true.

“Do you like this sweetheart? You like how I finger your dirty wet hole?” Mr Murphy asks, speeding up his pace.

You let out a moan in response, nodding your head as your eyes roll back. Your hands look for purchase somewhere, one lands on the couch and the other on his bicep. Mr Murphy’s fingers feel so nice inside you, the way he fingers you brings you to as close to heaven as you’ll get. You squirm around as he speeds up, feeling the heat in your lower stomach increase with every pump on his fingers into your cunt. His heavy breathing just pushes you further to your release.

Mr Murphy’s thumb reaches up to your clit, rubbing small fast circles into the bundle of nerves. As soon as his thumb came to brush your clit, you knew you had seconds to go before you were tumbling over the edge.

“Cum for me sweetheart,” Mr Murphy says, looking at your face contorted in pleasure.

His words finally push you over the edge as you cum all over your dance instructor's fingers. Gasping and moaning loudly, as your hips buck upwards a couple times. You lay on his couch for a couple seconds, breathing heavily as you try to compose yourself. Mr Murphy removes his fingers slowly from you, grabbing a tissue from the coffee table to wipe his hands off. The embarrassment of the situation comes back to you as you try to cover your pussy with your hands.

“There's nothing to be embarrassed by now,” Mr Murphy lets out a dry chuckle.

[deputyrook]

Drabble - Sleepwalking

Word count: 1200-ish

Rook wakes up after Spite has crawled Lucanis into her bed in the middle of the night. Soft, short Lucanis/Rook drabble!

---

See, it was funny. Rook was pretty sure she’d been alone when she’d gone to bed.

Now, as Rook stirred from her sleep and shook off the remnants of the dream she’d been having- something about Assan stealing her copy of Swords and Shields and having to chase after him- she realized someone had crawled into bed with her.

Bracketed against her chaise, Rook was lying on her side facing inward, her back to the fishtank and whoever had decided to come in for a midnight snuggle. Strong arms wrapped around her waist, and a face was pressed against the back of her neck. The beard tickling her skin and the light smell of coffee didn’t leave a whole lot of mystery as to who this was, which was the main reason she wasn’t already elbowing herself free.

Lucanis. His entire body was flush against hers, like he’d deliberately tried to get as close to her as possible. She’d almost kissed him in the pantry the other day, but he’d backed out at the last minute. Now here he was, one of his legs slotted in between hers, holding her pressed to his chest like she was a life-sized teddy bear.

Heat began to rise in Rook’s cheeks. Holy hell.

While she was contemplating what to do, she heard the sound of a soft snore in her ear. Okay, so he was asleep. Given how tightly he was holding her, Rook didn’t think she’d be able to extricate herself from this situation without waking him. Which she didn’t necessarily want to do, because Lucanis slept so sparingly in general. It was good that he was resting, he needed sleep.

Could this have something to do with Spite?

The embrace didn’t last that long, however warm and comfortable it actually was. Lucanis shifted in his sleep, his hips moving against Rook, and her intake of breath was so sharp and so loud she immediately knew it would wake him.

And it did. 

“Hm?” Lucanis groaned, face pulling away from her back. And then he realized where he was.

“Qué mierda? Madre mía!” His voice was alarmed, and he scrambled away from Rook so quickly that he fell off her chaise entirely, falling backward onto the floor.

Rook rolled over to look at him. Lucanis was staring at her, eyes wide, with pure panic written across his face. She was glad to see she wasn’t the only one blushing, as heat was quickly making his ears darken a mottled red. As they stared at each other, Lucanis’ mouth opened, and then shut again. He was speechless.

She couldn’t help it. First, it started as a snicker, but soon Rook was laughing so hard that she had to press a hand over her mouth to stifle the noise.

“It’s not funny, Rook,” Lucanis said, a bit lamely, but she could see the relief flooding through him.

“It’s a bit funny,” She countered, “Are you going to explain, or just lie on the floor looking stunned?”

With a sigh, Lucanis flopped onto his back, and ran a hand through his hair. His eyes darted to Rook before pointedly looking away from her. She couldn’t help but notice he also avoided looking at her fishtank, his gaze instead settling on a random spot on her ceiling.

“I have no idea. I think Spite is becoming a bit fixated on you. He was going on about wanting to talk to you, about escaping. He doesn't make any sense, half the time,” Lucanis huffed in irritation, “Normally if I fall asleep, he tries to walk around or leave the Lighthouse, not...this.”

A silence stretched between them. Rook fiddled with the hem of her sleep shirt.

“To be honest, I didn’t really mind,” She said finally. Fuck it. “I mean, you need to sleep sometimes. Better Spite wants to, uh, cuddle up than take you on a field trip.” Was that too forward? He had backed away after their almost-kiss, but then he had also, later, implied that he wanted to go through with it but felt he couldn’t. For whatever reason.

It was practical. Rook decided, sneaking a glance at Lucanis. Nothing to do with his entire body pressed against mine, holy maker that was hot, and also just so cozy? I think he can hold me forever and we can never leave this room and I’d die happy.

Lucanis pushed himself back to a seated position, his body facing her. When she looked at him, she saw a hard-to-read expression on his face, something between confusion and affection. It was a gentle, raw thing.

“You’re...” Lucanis ran a hand over his face, thinking, clearly still so exhausted, “unbelievable sometimes, Rook.”

She couldn’t help but smile. Better to take that as a compliment. “So I’ve heard. You know, there’s still a few hours until dawn. If you want to-” she cleared her throat, faltering, “I mean, Spite was a little grabby, but if you want to sleep beside me, there’s a lot of room up here. I know this is more comfortable than that so-called ‘bed’ of yours in the pantry.”

Ah, she’d definitely gone too far that time. It was like her MO, to finally get somewhere, but then push her luck and fuck things up. She’d probably push him away with this suggestion, too. And then she’d end up even more embarrassed about it than he was, because it made her feel just a little pathetic, to keep after this crush on him like a hopeful puppy.

But then again, she’d woken up to him snuggling up to her. So.

Rook blinked in surprise as Lucanis stood, and then sat down on the edge of her chaise. He hesitated there, as if he himself couldn’t believe what he was doing. Looking at Rook nervously, he said, “Well, unlike Spite, I happen to be a gentleman. So, if that offer was serious...”

Grinning, Rook laid back down, shifting aside to give Lucanis more room on her bed. He still sat there, looking down at her for a moment. Again, his expression was fond, and so vulnerable that it made Rook's chest ache.

Then, with a very soft smile of his own, Lucanis laid back down beside her, pulling up Rook’s blanket back overtop of them both. 

They both slept more soundly than they had in a long time.

[starzshopoflove]

Worlds biggest snoop

Soap is nosy as fuck and drags poor Gaz into his nonsense, Ghost just misses you.

Notes: fem reader! sfw mostly ,size kink if you squint, literally just me projecting onto reader, Soap is nosy, drabble! (WC:936)

Okay, it was bound to happen eventually. Simons on deployment and his poor little civilian girlfriend is left all alone in her little bookshop while he's away on base. Of course he told you before he left and, you both made sure to spend plenty of time together on dates (and in bed)

You send him off with plenty of hugs and kisses reminding him to call whenever he has time and not to forget to take care of himself. Simon would probably keep a few photos of you in his gallery in a locked album that he looks at every night before sleeping once he’s called you.

This man is so paranoid, he even changes his wallpaper. It was a photo of you holding a pie you both made together ( he stood on the side reading the instructions while you did all the work bc you were to scared he would mess with the dough, this man has lived off of mre’s and meat his ass can NOT bake) with a little ghost dough shape baked on the top. Now its just a picture of a pile of books with your glasses on the top of the stack. Easy enough to pass off as a nice photo and still something to remind him of you.

He makes sure he has no trace of you on him once he's on base. Save for the one picture he has of you both holding a big bouquet of flowers side by side, he's staring at you stare at the camera like a love sick puppy, while you're smiling so wide your eyes are shut. That's the only thing he will keep on him, if he dies on the field he wants the last thing he sees to be you. Other than that he risks nothing.

Plain clothes that don't have your smell, none of the fancy lotions you’ve forced him to use, none of the little trinkets you slip in his pocket, none of the little letters you've slipped in his bag (He saved those to read when he came back).

Nothing.

But he was bound to fuck up eventually no?

Soap was the first to get nosy. His LT was never this calm or relaxed on deployment. He rushed a little more to get to his office each night. What was even weirder is he would lock the door this time, he never locked the door.

So of course he started taking matters into his own hands. Standing behind Ghost when he was sitting down on his phone, once he even saw him scroll past the locked album. He didn't open it of course. He never opened that unless he was alone, but he scrolled past it and Soap could see the album title.

Your Initial with a heart next to it.

This is when all the bells actually went off in his head. At first he thought Ghost finally went to therapy (LMAO NO) or maybe picked up a hobby (DOUBLE NO), but heart emojis? What on Gods green earth had moved thee Ghost to using a heart emoji

Soap was sticking like glue to Simon, reluctantly he tolerated this. Except of course when 9pm rolled around and he was kicking him out of the office. 

“Come on Lt, what you gettin 'rid ‘f me for? Not like yer gonna wank in the office yeah?” 

“Get out” 

“Aw come on can't spare ya favorite sargent a couple hours to entertain?”

Soap was whining at this point just being an annoying little shit to try and break him.

“Out”

Ghost just dragged him out by the collar like a misbehaved kitten.

Making a show of it Johnny walked down the halls wailing about how Ghost must hate him and that their friendship means nothing, while Simons just watched him tumble around dramatically wrapping his arms around Gaz. 

Once he hears the click of Ghost's office door locking he instantly straightens up, face locked on like he's on a mission and arm wrapped around Gaz like iron. 

Gaz the poor boy, is verily confused watching this interaction, more confused as to why Soap is dragging him to their Lt’s door.

"C’mon”

Soap hisses pressing his ear on the door motioning Kyle to do the same. 

“Fuck is you doing?”

Gaz is looking as Soap like a child who's about to get a shot, lips pursed tightly, eyes narrowed up. Course Johnny just pulls him to press up too.

Price probably just walks past them mumbling some nonsense about kids these days ignoring it, the less he knows the better

The 2 stand there in silence for a good moment until they hear the classic dialing of a number and the shifting of what sounds like Ghost taking off his mask. 

Then, the sound of a woman's voice?

“Well you look awfully tired”

Oh my god Lt’s calling a woman

Your voice is chirpy and bright probably since you’ve got the night shift and had enough sleep to run the shop for the night. You little chitters of how your day went and questions of concern filled the room soothing Simon's nerves of whatever he was worrying about that day. 

Soap and Gaz are jaw slacked behind the door staring at each other listening to this. Lt’s bird chirping through the little phone speaker and him actually replying in full sentences in a soft warm tone they didn't know existed 

The 2 scatter before the call ends giggling to each other, well Soap giggling Gaz trying to process how Lt got a girl before him

[drabblesandsnippets]

Drabble #4

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Plus-size female character (unnamed)

Background: What would Bucky do if he overheard his girlfriend talking negatively about her body?

Summary: Bucky likes to remind his girlfriend how beautiful she is, especially when she has a hard time remembering.

Warnings: 18+ Only. Explicit sexual content. Mention of body image. Slight domination. Affirmations.

---------------------------

A shopping spree with Yelena was actually something on her list of fun things to do. Until Yelena insisted on choosing several new outfits for her, most of the items far out of her comfort zone.

But, at least Yelena didn’t make her try them on at the store. She was able to wait until she was in the safety of her home, where she could laugh at how ridiculous she looked.

She had been so preoccupied with trying on the way-too-revealing clothing that she didn’t hear Bucky come home. And as she stood in front of the mirror, silently critiquing her figure - that Yelena had tried to convince her she needed to show off - she didn’t even realize he was watching her from the doorway, his eyes on her new outfit. 

A high-waisted skirt and cropped shirt. The combination showing just a hint of soft skin at her waist. Her beautiful thick thighs on display.

He’d never seen her in anything like it, and it instantly made him hard, his mind filled with all sorts of dirty images of what he wanted to do to her.

Just when he was about to announce his presence, his sensitive ears picked up her quiet voice. The silent critique that had been in her head had turned vocal, and she mumbled something about her body that made Bucky immediately growl.

“Princess.” 

The single utterance of her nickname made goosebumps spread across her skin, and she knew no excuses would get her out of this.

She was in trouble.

She’s not allowed to talk negatively about herself - about the woman he loves - and she’s especially not allowed to talk about her body like that. A body that he worships every chance he gets.

That’s how she ends up in front of their large mirror, leaning back against Bucky with her skirt hiked up, showing him how wet she is. Her legs are hooked over his thighs, his body keeping her spread wide for him, not giving her a chance to hide any part of herself from either of them.

Every time her eyes drift away from the mirror, he forces her to look again, whispering every bit of praise that comes to mind, making sure to pay attention to all the places she’s insecure about, refusing to let her think one bad thing about herself.

It’s not long before she’s a mess, dizzy with need, her body on fire, and he’s barely even touched her. 

Her eyes meet his in the mirror, and she squirms as best as she can, rubbing back against his covered erection as his hands move along her thighs. The teasingly tender touch of his fingertips makes her whine, and she arches her back, almost at her breaking point.

“Bucky,” she breathes, her eyes fluttering at his gentle touch. “Please.”

It’s useless, she knows. She hasn’t given him what he wants yet.

“Hmm?” he asks, his voice sending shivers down her spine. “I need to hear your words, Princess.”

He knows exactly what he’s doing to her, but until she says what he needs to hear, he’s not going to do anything but this.

Slow teasing strokes of his fingers, tracing a path along her inner thighs, getting closer and closer to where she needs him most. 

And just when he’s close enough to feel the heat of her, he pulls away, dragging the back of his fingers along her trembling thighs.

For a moment, all she can do is whimper, already on the verge of tears, the intensity of the moment catching up to her. She’s overwhelmed, but they both know she can do this.

She needs this.

With one more encouraging look from Bucky, and another teasing pass of his hands, she finally finds her voice.

“My body deserves respect.” She whispers the words, but they immediately make Bucky smile, and his chest swells with pride.

“Good girl,” he growls, placing his palms flat against her, sliding them slowly along her inner thighs. “Keep going.” She makes a soft noise of appreciation and nods her head, wanting this just as much as he does.

When she utters the next phrase, “my body deserves love” his hips shift subtly against her, his cock seeking friction.

He’s so proud of her, of the woman she is and everything she’s capable of. Seeing how much she wants to believe the things she’s saying makes him want to reward her.

“That’s right,” he tells her, his breath heavy against her neck. “You’re doing so good for me.” He inches his fingers ever closer to her pussy, and she can’t tear her eyes away from the mirror, her body growing still.

She doesn’t want to give him any reason to stop, and it makes the next words even easier to say.

“My body is a gift.” The last word comes out broken, a soft strangled noise, because Bucky’s fingers are finally touching her, spreading her obscenely, allowing him to see just how turned on she is for him.

Her hands grip his forearms, but she knows better than to try to control him. Not that she wants to, no matter how vulnerable she feels.

She barely processes what’s coming out of his mouth, but each word he says makes her that much more desperate for him, that much more desperate to make him proud.

“Look at that. Such a pretty pussy. Just dripping for me. Wanna make you come just like this.”

The pad of his finger teases over her exposed clit and her entire body shudders, her thighs almost closing in response. Bucky doesn’t let her move though, his own legs spread wide to keep her in place, reminding her who’s in charge.

She’s too far gone to immediately answer him, but he takes pity on her, sliding his finger along her soaked slit to tease at her entrance. “Do you want that, Princess? Do you wanna watch while I play with your pretty pussy?” 

This time when his finger grazes over her clit, she moans and quickly nods, her body seeking out more of his touch. There are so many things she wants to say, to please him, to show him that she wants this just as much as he does. But, all that comes out is a soft, “yes, please.” 

It’s more than enough for Bucky though, and he leans back just a bit more, giving them both the perfect view of her body.

At his instructions, her eyes stay on the mirror, watching his hand as he starts to bring her more pleasure. There’s no teasing this time, Bucky reminding her how good she did for him as his fingers start to move against her clit in firm circles. 

It’s not long before she’s breathless, her arm curled up around his neck, holding onto him as he brings her closer to the edge. Her eyes keep threatening to close, the pleasure starting to overwhelm her, but Bucky won’t allow her to look away. Not yet. 

“God, you drive me crazy, do you know that?” he asks her, his vibranium hand sliding underneath her shirt, lifting it until her bra is exposed, her nipples hard against the fabric. “Just look at you. You’re so fucking beautiful.”

His fingers quickly pull her bra cup down, letting her breast spill out, and his hand greedily grabs at her, his fingers seeking out her nipple. She immediately whines his name, her hips bucking against his touch, her orgasm quickly approaching.

She’s only vaguely aware of what he’s even saying to her, but each word adds to her pleasure, making her body shudder. Her gaze flickers from her own body to Bucky’s face, and even though she can already feel how turned on he is, what does her in is the way he’s looking at her, like he can't get enough of her. Like she’s truly a work of art. 

She barely has time to gasp out that she’s going to come before he growls her name, telling her to. Demanding it. “Yes. That’s it, Princess. Come for me, right now.”

His hand moves down to hold her waist, keeping her held against him as her body tenses, watching as the pleasure takes over. The pleasure he’s giving her. It’s enough to almost make him come with her. 

After what feels like an eternity, she starts to slowly return to reality, Bucky’s hands now sliding along her soft skin as he moves her into a more comfortable position. He continues whispering soft words of praise, telling her how proud he is of her as she meets his gaze in the reflection of the mirror, a soft smile on her face. 

Her shirt is still pulled up over her breasts, her skirt bunched up around her waist, and she’s suddenly struck by how hot she looks. Her body pulses at the image, Bucky’s strong arms wrapped around her, his hands touching every part of her he can reach.

It’s like she can see herself the way he does.

Bucky senses the shift in her and immediately grins, his eyes roaming over the vision of her, flushed and needy. “How about you try on some more of these new clothes?”

She immediately giggles as he helps her to her feet, and she makes a joke about how she might have to critique each one if this is the consequence. 

“Just think what the reward will be if you compliment yourself instead,” he laughs, playfully smacking her ass.

---------------------------

Main Masterlist

[brabblesblog]

Sounds like a plan.

Drabble set right after act II’s confession scene. What if Tav didn’t feel quite alright with Astarion’s manipulation, and tried to just go along with it for his sake?

Angst with a happy ending. Also a tiny bit of Gale. Enjoy!

Read on AO3.

Masterlist.

He starts to notice when you stop smiling at him.

Oh, you'd smirk and laugh when talking to him, but that wasn't it - you just didn't smile.

That one he'd craved so much to see, the one that made your eyes crinkle and your nose flare a little. That smile. He hadn't seen it since the night he confessed his feelings to you.

He’d worry about it more, if you two didn’t spend every waking moment together. If you didn’t move into his tent. Didn’t cuddle with him every night, and woke up tangled in his arms every dawn.

So he put it aside for now. Your relationship was a new and fragile thing, and he dared not risk it.

That is, until he noticed you smiling like that with Gale. Astarion had just been walking back to camp from a hunt, when he had heard your voice and Gale’s and had inadvertently began to eavesdrop.

You had been sitting by the campfire with the wizard, reading one of those raunchy romance novels Shadowheart had given you. The two of you were huddled close together, knees touching, chortling and snorting as you read the passages aloud.

“I don’t think elves have… appendages of that size,” Gale remarks after a particularly salacious line. “Would they?” He shoots you a particularly nasty smirk.

You laugh, all pretense thrown aside. “I haven’t seen enough elf cock to know,” you mumble. “Or any other type of cock, for that matter.”

Gale chuckles. “You’ve been sleeping with one, have you not?” There is a small note of sadness in Gale’s voice when he says this, and you note it. You had turned the wizard down for Astarion.

The laugh that was about to come out of you dies at Gale’s words. You remember sleeping with Astarion, remember how your relationship started, how-

You shake your head, trying to clear out those thoughts. You want to just have fun right now, not think about your complicated situation. Gale notices, and he closes the spicy book. He looks to you, those large eyes holding nothing but affection and concern for you.

“Is something the matter? Anything you need, I’ll be there,” he reminds. He may not be your partner, but he’s still one of your closest friends in camp.

“Actually.” You weigh your options. No one seemed to be here at camp, and so you decide to confide in your friend. “Yes. There.. there is a problem. With.. with Astarion and I.”

Astarion initially rolls his eyes as he hears this conversation. It’s just banter, and he doesn’t mind. What made him stay there and listen in for a moment was the sound of your laughter. It was so genuine and he had not heard it in what felt like forever. He felt a pang of jealousy that of all people, Gale had been the one to bring it out of you. As he prepared to go back to your shared tent, he finally heard you mention his name. He froze, immediately rooted to the spot by fear. He had to know what was wrong. He had to fix it before you left him.

Gale puts a comforting hand on your knee. “Then I will lend you my ears. I shall keep your confidence.”

“It’s- it’s hard to explain,” you begin, speaking gently. “Does it make sense if I say I understand why he would do something he did, but it hurts anyways?”

“More than you know,” Gale replies somberly. “You understand their reasons. Sympathize, even. But you can’t help how you feel.” He pauses, considering it. “Does he know?”

“No.” You shake your head, answering without hesitation. “I didn’t want to give him more things to worry about. He..”

He already has too many things on his plate, you figured, and your petty little issues are nothing compared to what he’s going through.

Gale nods. “And you didn’t want to burden him. I understand.” He clears his throat. “I’m not a good choice for advice regarding relationships, however- it’s common knowledge that hiding things from each other so early on is a portent for disaster. I hope you know that.”

“I know, Gale,” you say, your tone sharpening. Then you let out a sigh, forcing yourself to calm down. “I just don’t want to hurt him any more than he’s already been hurt. I can’t hate him for what he did to me, but I want to hate him for how much it hurts.”

Your voice breaks at the last moment, and you bury yourself in Gale’s shoulder. He wraps a comforting arm around you, letting you finally let out those feelings you’ve been bottling in.

“I thought,” you gasp, “that he’d finally be the one person to actually want me for me.”

Astarion, hidden in the periphery of the camp, sees and hears everything. He keeps silent, as his own heart rips at the sound of your sobbing. Of course. How could he have been so blind? How could he have just assumed you were okay with what he did? After his confession, you had said everything was okay, and he had taken it at face value.

Gods damned it, Astarion thinks. As the conversation dies and you gradually shift to just sobbing into Gale’s shoulder, Astarion slips away.

You head back to your shared tent and hour or so later, opening the flaps. To your surprise, your lover sits there. He snaps upwards the moment your face pokes in, as if he had been waiting for just that exact moment.

“You’re back early,” you say, slipping in and closing the flap behind you. You drop to your knees and crawl towards the bedroll beside him, exhausted.

“Caught a boar quite early on. I daresay I got a bit lucky,” is the reply, delivered in a tone that just sounded off to your ears. He moves to wrap an arm around you, pulling you close to him. “And you, darling? Catching up with the wizard?” He tries to go for nonchalant, and absolutely fails it.

You notice it then, the way he’s actually not even breathing. The way his chest is stiff as a board, the way his fingers tremble.

“Astarion,” you squeeze your eyes shut. “You heard.”

“Every word,” he says, a pained sigh escaping his lips. His arm stops pulling you close. You turn to face him, and you see his face, more pained than you have ever seen him before. When he had confessed, he looked frightened. This time he looked resigned. You watch him clench his jaw, preparing to say the words he knew he should say.

Astarion takes a small, sharp breath. He meets your gaze.

“I hurt you.” The statement is quiet, emotionless. “You shouldn’t have told me you were okay, darling. You should have let me know.” His jaw works again, and he struggles to say the next words.

“I’ve put your things in your pack. You can leave whenever you wish.”

He tries not to cry. Not to beg for you to stay. Because you deserve to go. You deserve real, and if you can’t be real with him, then he isn’t the one who deserves you. Swallowing, his hand caresses your cheek. “I am sorry.”

Sorry he can’t give you what you deserve. Sorry he hurt you. Sorry he was what he was.

You sit up. You try to see what he’s thinking, to see if this relationship still had anything to salvage. But here in the dark, it’s very hard to tell. You brace yourself; the thing missing here was communication, and you’ll be damned if you don’t try to do just that before it all blows up.

“Do you want this, Astarion? Us?”

A quick, quiet hiss of pain breaks the silence. His eyes brighten, filling up with tears. They don’t fall just yet.

“Yes. Gods, yes.”

Your own shoulders drop, and you exhale.

“Then I’m going nowhere. But I suppose we should talk about what you overheard.”

He exhales, relief flooding his features. The guardedness isn’t quite gone yet, however. He makes no move to close the gap. Instead he sits up, matching your position.

“What else is there to say? I manipulated you. You felt a lot less gracious about it than you originally thought. Seems about the sum of it, no?”

There is a little defensiveness there. As if he’s already building walls in the event of your departure.

“Somewhat, but not quite.” You clear your throat. “I don’t blame you. I’m not upset at you. Or resentful. Or whatever else you think I am. Before anything else, I want you to know that.”

His eyes widen, surprised. He had overheard the conversation; he should have known this. But hearing it so directly said was different. You can see his shoulders sag as the tension leaves his body, as that terrible knot in his heart starts to loosen. He nods, acknowledging your statement and an encouragement to continue.

“I’m just hurt.” That was the root of all of it, really. “I’m hurt, but I didn’t want you to know. You already suffer so much, that it felt…” you trail off, trying to find the words.

“Frivolous, darling?” He suggests. As you nod he continues. “Just because I’m going through things doesn’t mean there’s no space… for your feelings,” he begins tentatively. He takes one more small breath, then reaches across to take your hand, just like he did that night he confessed.

“I’ve spent two hundred years carrying my own burdens. You have shared my load. Please. Let me lighten yours too.”

You scan his face, on instinct, trying to see any signs of insincerity. There is none. His eyes are round and open, and his hand remains on yours, palm up, an invitation for you to come to him.

You choke back tears, leaning forward to touch your foreheads together. “It’s just that I wished you were.. that we started differently. That you wanted me..”

“For you,” he says, repeating what you said to Gale. “I know. And I might not have, at the start. I might have seen you as a means to an end.”

He gathers his courage and moves to wrap his arms around you. “But now I do,” he whispers against your ear. “I want you for you.”

You melt into his arms then, moulding yourself to his torso as you cry yet again. But unlike your tears when talking to Gale, this feels like relief. Like home.

He shushes you, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head. “You said you aren’t upset at all. But you can. We can..” he thinks for a moment, then proceeds. “We can take some time apart, if that’s what you want. We can take a step back and see if we can end up back here again.”

Saying that felt like torture for him. But he knew it needed to be said. You needed to have that option.

You shake your head. “No. I’m- I would very much rather be in this, whatever this is,” you say with a teary laugh. “But you’re right. I think I’ll still need some time to go through it and accept everything.”

“Just don’t forget, Astarion. It’s not your fault. It’s not,” you say vehemently. “I’m just hurt, but I’m not holding you responsible.”

He wants to protest, but knows better than to. Instead he nods. Carefully he cups your face in his hands, and you shiver as his cool palms make contact with your wet cheeks.

He kisses the tears away, each kiss a soft, feather-light brush against your skin.

“Thank you,” he murmurs. For your kindness. For your forgiveness and grace. For your love, although he couldn’t even use that word yet, even to himself. For the gift of yourself, always so generously given, from the very start.

He wishes he could someday live up to your love. That he would be worth everything you give him. He tries to voice this out.

“If you’re staying, then… it gives me a challenge, mm?” He tries to smile. “I’ll try to be worth the trouble. But no promises, darling.”

You huff out a laugh. This beautiful, strong, insufferable man. How could he think he wasn’t worth it to you? But you understood. You felt the same way.

“I’ll hold you to that,” you say. “As for me, well. I don’t imagine I’ll ever be worth all that, either.”

“Then we’ll be worthless together,” he says without missing a beat. If you only knew how special he thought you were. How worthy. How you make him want to be better.

He presses his lips to yours, finally. Sealing your words together. A promise for you two to share each other’s burdens. Together.

“Sounds like a plan,” you agree.

[miupow]

But now I need werewolf Soobin x reader sfw and nsfw head cannons. I need to know how he would be with his mate pls I beseech thee. If I had money I’d pay you imma get rich so I can pay you to write these

third member down !! will i make ones for yeonjun and taehyun too.. probably if that's what you all would like lol !! having fun making these ^^ and no need to pay me omg anon !!! i love making content for my blog all i ever ask if that i get feedback and support and love <3

─── ⋆ CRAVEVERSE ; werewolf!soobin headcanons !

cw ⸝⸝ sfw + nsfw hcs .ᐟ werewolf!sb (and werewolf!rest of txt) , fem!reader , no dark content warning for these hcs but general dark content warning for crave as an au. breeding kink, size kink, unprotected sex, knotting, possessive and protective behavior

SFW ;

-> crave!soobin who only agrees to keep you because it’s what the others want (at least everyone other than taehyun). if it’s something that would make his brothers happy, than he’s fine with it, but he doesn’t really care much about the new human in his life…

-> except he does. very much so lol

-> crave!soobin who falls for you so fast it makes his head spin, but avoids you like the plague— he doesn’t want to hurt you, keeps his space but remains respectful!! but his resolve is quickly crumbling

-> you think he doesn’t like you but it’s QUITE the opposite!! he likes you so much that he’s.. changing and its freaking him out lol . suddenly he understands his brothers when they go on about their instincts, their ‘wolf’

-> crave!soobin who is the easiest to talk to and reason with because he’s not instinct crazy like his brothers are, can actually think rationally and respect your opinion like you’re a person. he treats you the most like an equal

-> crave!soobin who gets so protective over you it drives him crazy!! he can’t even let you out of his sight without worrying sick about you!! he just needs to make sure you’re safe, okay… not knowing where you are or what you’re up to makes him a nervous wreck

-> crave!soobin who is the most okay with yeonjun claiming that you’re his soulmate or whatever crazy talk he spouts about your destined “love”.. his hyung has a screw loose but he loves him and if you’re what makes him so happy, than he’s happy. he’s okay with being on the side.

-> but crave!soobin who loves attention so much that he doesn’t know what to do when he gets it!! gets all nervous and blushy when you get sweet with him !! because while he’s okay with not being your number 1 he’s still down horrendously for you

-> crave!soobin who has trouble sleeping and has had nightmares and insomnia for years… but who can finally sleep easy with you cuddled into his side <3

-> crave!soobin who would do absolutely anything you asked, just because seeing you smile is his favorite thing in the world ! always always thinking about you, your happiness, health and safety always on his mind <3

NSFW ; (under the cut!)

-> i touch on this a little in my old soobin drabble for crave but crave!soobin is a little bit of a late bloomer.. in that he’s never had a rut or really had any awakening of his instincts even as the second oldest. unlike his brothers he feels no kind of instinctual pull that guides them, feels more human than werewolf, like something’s wrong with him. but that all changes when you come into his life…

-> crave!soobin who goes into rut for the first time a few moons after you become part of his life, but who holes himself away in his room to ride it out alone just because he’s so frightened of hurting you.

-> he’s so much.. bigger than you. and he doesn’t know how to control himself. it’s all so new to him.

-> crave!soobin who has the biggest breeding kink of them all !! always daydreaming about getting your tummy round with his pups, can’t stop himself from babbling about breeding you when he’s balls deep inside <3

-> crave!soobin who loves titties w all his big wolfish heart <3 always sucking on your tits whenever he has the chance !

-> crave!soobin who won’t stop, can’t stop until he’s drained himself of everything he’s got, overstimulating u both ^^

-> crave!soobin who has the biggest cock in the pack and who is a little insecure about it,. just so convinced he’ll hurt you poor baby!!

-> on that note crave!soobin who’s the most submissive out of the boys, who likes being told what to do, bossed around, topped and dominated hehe

[eloquentlytired]

— when the time comes, part two

pairing: logan howlett x gn! reader

part one is here

drabble,fluff, wade is briefly here <3 and blind al (slay)

summary: perhaps logan’s wish to find you in a different timeline comes true. and this time he doesn't only find you, but wade as well.

author’s note: I was wondering if I should add laura somehow to this scene but I think it came out perfect like this! what if I make a part three for the dinner/table scene where they're all together with wade though enjoy babies !!! this low-key made me cryyy... as always reblogs & likes & conversations are sooo welcome ^_^

“this is logan.”

you turn around as wade’s voice echoes within the small apartment. you'd been roommates for a while since you both were struggling with rent and this sort of arrangement had been quite beneficial. your friendship with wade had flourished in no time and you had somehow managed to become less anxious with his help, always having silly laughs and finding nice things even in the toughest situations.

you begin moving away from the kitchen area as you hear a dialogue going on — wade, al and a voice that didn't remind you of anything.

“finally, sweet cheeks. thought i’d have to start a new pissing ritual for you to show up!” wade chimes while placing a hand on his hip and looking straight at you. Whatever follows after, it never reaches your ears.

you stand there frozen, spatula falling from your hands, as your gaze stares at the man behind wade. you don’t know him but at the same time you do. that messy hair, that beard and those eyes. whoever that man was, he must have felt what you were feeling as he also stills by wade’s side. the silence that follows is long and awkward for the others but not for you and this man; at least that's what wade points out and ruins the moment. “right. if you're done eye fucking each other — and by the way sweet cheeks I thought we had something special — but yes if you're done..” wade walks towards you and gently pushes the goofiest dog ever in your hands. what the fuck?

“—I have a bath to run. gotta get those pores unclogged before my big party.” you tried to protest but wade was already gone and al was leaving as well, muttering something about holy sugar time.

the pair of eyes across you never leave yours. you stare back at the strange man named logan; at least that's what you'd heard wade call him. “I...nice to meet you.” you finally whisper while slowly setting the dog down, your hand instinctively reaching towards logan. the taller man leans forward as well and holds your hand, shaking it in the process. “i’m logan. thanks for having me.” he murmurs and for a man his size, you didn't anticipate such simplicity and gentleness in his voice. your eyes fill with unshed tears and for an unknown reason logan reaches out to wipe them away before they stain your cheeks. you shudder at the strange familiarity of those warm digits upon your skin. logan swallows thickly. “do I know you?” he asks and you look at him with wide, sparkly eyes. you were the prettiest thing he'd ever seen. “it feels like it, doesn't it?” was the only reply you could offer him as he nods.

a moment passes. then two. logan drops his hand from your face, realizing the boundaries he's crossing. not that you really minded his touch. you quickly compose yourself and wipe the remaining wetness from your face before shifting your gaze in between logan and the kitchen.

“are- are you hungry,logan?” you suddenly ask, your voice kind of shaky.

the surprise on his face lasts briefly before a small but genuine smile settles on his features. “yeah. starving actually.” you chuckle. he does too.

as logan follows you into the kitchen, and despite wade’s awful singing coming from the bathroom, you think about the cheapest bed you can buy tomorrow for the third addition in your family.

[ahgasegotarmy116]

BANG-ABLE | Jeon Jungkook | Drabble 3

Summary: Running into someone from your past that you had hoped you'd never see again was not on your to do list today. Pairing: f!reader x Sex Bot Jungkook Word Count: 1.3k~ Warnings: Literally nothing lol enjoy~ Requested by @missmorningglory 💜

After Jungkook begged me over and over and over again I finally concede and brought him to the mall with me, giving him a very clear warning that if he picked up another mannequin or started touching everything again like he did last time I would ground him, leaving him promising me he'll be on his best behavior. 

We compromised after that and decided it would be best if I just let him hold my hand the whole time because he claimed he couldn't control himself. 

He's a literal robot and can be controlled but I'm too lazy to try and reprogram him for something as silly as that.

As we come upon the next aisle and start looking through all the newish electronics I see someone out of the corner of my eye that I regrettably recognize making me duck behind Jungkook, hoping he didn't see me.

"Is everything alright?" he chuckles, turning to face me, still managing to keep me hidden. "Yeah everything is fine. Completely fine. Just, don't move from this spot for a while yeah?" I say, peeking around him to see that the guy I recognized is getting closer. 

"Actually you know what? Why don't we go to the next aisle? I heard there's a new electric toothbrush that you can hook your phone up to and I really wanna check it out" I say, trying to tug him down the aisle but in the process bump into a speaker behind me, making a Sabrina Carpenter song shoot through it on full blast, startling all three of us and bringing the guys attention over to Jungkook and I.

"Y/n?" he asks, recognizing me immediately making me cringe, wishing the world would open up and swallow me whole. "Yeah, um hi...you" I say, not one hundred percent sure of his name making him chuckle. "Jake" he says, reintroducing himself and I snap.

"Jake! I almost forgot, silly me" I say, my awkwardness level up to a billion leaving all three of us standing there and I realize after having a long pause that I should probably introduce Jungkook. 

"Sorry um, this is Jungkook, my boyfriend. Jungkook this is Ja-" "Jake, got it" Jungkook says flatly, sizing him up and trying to figure out who exactly this man might be to me since he's never come up before.

"Nice to meet you" Jake says, holding out his hand to Jungkook and he takes it, making Jake's brows knit together and let go seconds later. "Strong handshake" he chuckles and shakes out his hand. 

"So um...how have you been?" I ask, internally yelling at myself to stop trying to make small talk. "I've been alright. I was wondering where you wandered off to but now I know..." he says, his eyes sizing up Jungkook right back. "Yeah Jungkook and I met a few months ago and we just...hit it off" I chuckle awkwardly.

"So you guys used to date?" Jungkook asks, Jake saying 'yes' while I'm rushing to say 'no' making Jungkook cock a brow at me. "We went out a couple of times bu-" 

'But I bet we'd have really good bed chem' Sabrina sings right on fucking cue, cutting me off preventing any sort of salvaging of this conversation.

The three of us all stood there awkwardly after that, the song as our backing track making me finally press pause, taking my blood pressure down just a bit. Those lyrics alone hinting at what had gone down between Jake and I. "Anyways, we decided it wasn't gonna work out" I explain making Jake chuckle bitterly. 

"We decided?" he echoes making me cringe, obviously not telling the full truth. "I...I decided" I concede making him nod in agreement. "Ghosted me is more like it" he mumbles making me feel bad, not having had to experience an encounter like this before.

"Yeah...sorry bout that" I say, but we all know I'm not sorry. If anything I'm more sorry that I have to go through this as a result. "I'll let you guys get back to shopping then. It was nice meeting you Jungkook...Y/n" he says, looking me up and down once more before leaving the aisle, making me let out a breath of relief. 

"Was tha-" "I don't wanna talk about it" I say holding my hand up to Jungkook's face to stop the conversation before it gets started leaving him chuckling at my expense. "Oh yeah laugh it up, we'll see where that gets you" I huff and walk in the opposite direction that Jake went, leaving Jungkook jogging after me to catch up.

"That guy looked pretty familiar" he says in my ear when we start making our way out and back to the car. "Really? I'm pretty sure I've never shown him to you. I don't even think I have a picture of him" I say thinking about it for a second and Jungkook just shakes his head.

"What?" I ask and he just shrugs his shoulder, "Oh nothing" he says and opens my car door for me. "No tell me!" I whine leaving him placing a kiss on my pouty lips. "I just thought he looked really familiar that's all" he shrugs again making my eyes roll.

"Who does he remind you of then?" I ask and his next answer makes me choke on air. "Me" he chuckles and pats my back to help soothe my coughing fit. "What?" I ask, not remotely expecting that since...let's be honest, Jungkook is a hell of a lot more handsome than Jake...but I'll never tell.

"It's okay to have a type. I just wasn't expecting to see the guy you modeled me after" he taunts, poking my cheek making me pout further. "I did not model you after him" I huff and close the car door on him leaving him laughing and walking around to the passenger seat. 

"Ava is the one that created you remember? I hardly had any part in it" I mumble and put the car into drive, heading straight home since I know I'll be forced to deal with his teasings for the rest of the night. 

"Yeah but you clearly have a type if she's able to make a sex bot for you with a similar vibe" he counters making me groan. "For the last time you are not modeled after him!" and he puts his hands up in defeat. "Whatever you say my love" he addresses me with the motive of taking the edge off. 

The car goes silent for a while until I can tell he's bursting at the seams to ask me another question. 

"So if I asked you to show me your previous boyfriends would you say yes?" he chances. "Absolutely not" I grumble and he laughs, "That's fine, I'm sure I can always as Ava" he smirks, satisfied with his plan.

"He wasn't even my boyfriend...but he wanted to be. And so that's why I ghosted him" I explain and he hums. "Pussy so good you got him whipped after a few tastes?" he says, his vulgar way of putting it catching me off guard.

"Jungkook!" I scold him, my cheeks heating up at that, making his chuckle that fucking cocky chuckle that makes me wanna get on my knees for him. "What? I don't blame the guy. I'd never wanna let you go either" he admits but I sigh, bringing myself back down to reality.

 "You're programmed to be obsessed with me so your words don't hold much weight in this context" I explain but he just shrugs. 

"From the way he was looking at you, clearly still wanting you...and the way he was looking at me, pissed that he wasn't in my place I know my calculations are correct. Call it what you want but you're addictive" he counters making me squirm in place, the compliment with evidence to corroborate it making me nervous.

"Shut up and let me drive" I huff and he stifles back his laughter, having mercy on me...but that mercy is short lived. His need to prove himself evident as soon as we walk in the door, making sure to remind me that no one could ever compare to him.

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[heartfullofleeches]

i need more sucrose i beg

just a crumb, any fact or a random blurb i beggggggg

My original idea for Dentist Reader was that they were scared off of candy as a child 2005 Willy Wonka style, but someone left this comment.

So here's a drabble with both meshed into one.

Yan Candy Person Shop Owner + Dentist Reader

"You have one final chance to get out of my office before I have you dragged out in handcuffs."

If that damned sheriff would actually do his job for once- The worst part about moving to a smaller area was the local authority's instance on solving issues between yourselves. Your hands may have been filled with new appointments, you aren't blind. You've seen that lazy excuse for an officer waltz gleefully out of that accursed candy store, twiddling suckers between his lips.

Hard candy and bite sized balls of chocolate spill out onto the floor of your lobby as the confectioner urges the candy bowl from their hands into yours.

"Gumdrop...." That awful nickname... It's almost more annoying than their crocodile tears when you call out their behavior in public. "Just one little nibble, that's all I'm askin'. Let's start with something simple. Butterscotch? How about a peppermint? A gumdrop for my sweet, compassionate gumdrop?"

Your foot taps impatiently against the carpeted floor. Must you go through this same song and dance every day? Sucrose lets out a nervous chuckle, placing the bowl on your desk as they hop to their feet.

"If you won't have any for yourself, at the very least your patients might enjoy a sweet treat after everything you put them through. Dental work can be scary business- A smile every now and then would help too."

"Alright. Fine- I've got too much paperwork to deal with to argue with. If you had any sense, you'd be behind the counter- At. Your. Shop."

"Feisty~" Sucrose purrs, tapping your nose with a giggle. "That's what I love about you. I'll drop by during your lunch break to check on you. Don't miss me too much, Gumdrop!"

Grabbing the tails of their apron, Sucrose bows before turning on their heals - practically skipping their way out of your office. With them out of your hair, your focus redirects to the bowl of candy sitting on your desk. Lollipops and hard candies were one thing, but some of the mix would only cause more harm than good. Caramels, jelly beans, taffy.

Your fingernails clench around the edge of the table- the roar of an engine scaring you off before you dare to go further. Fearing being caught, you brisky march over to the windows; shutting the blinds without a second thought. Returning to the desk, you make certain your chair faces the window as you take your seat - snatching the first brightly colored wrapper that catches your eye.

You make quick work of pealing the candy free, folding the wrapper into a neat folder and tucking it into your pocket. You've never seen taffy shaped quite like what they've done before- Maybe someday you'd swallow your pride and ask Sucrose how they they sliced their candy into perfect miniature hearts. Easing back in your chair, you pop the candy into your mouth - chewing as all your fears from the past melt on your tongue along with the rich, cherry flavor.

"Knock, Knooooock~ Hey, Gumdrop. I think I forgot my....."

Hand deep in the candy bowl, the taffy hits your stomach like a brick as you swallow - the confectioner's eyes growing wider by the second.

"G.....Gumdrop?!? You're eating me sweets?! Out of your own free will? Eeeek! I knew you'd come around someday! I'm so happy! Let me lick the sweetness from your lips, my angel!"

You keep from your chair as Sucrose pounces- keeping them at distance with your foot as they make wild grabs for your face with their hands.

"Don't deny our love any longer, my sweet! You love my candy yet you claim to despise it so you must feel the same way about me- You're too cruel! Kiss me, you beautiful heart-breaker!"

[achilles-rage]

thirteen crows: chapter three

summary: buck makes you dinner, and then your regulars see first hand how work has been going for you lately.

word count: 2.7k

previous chapter

series masterlist

a/n: i am SO SORRY this took so long. i want to write so bad and i have so many ideas but i can't force myself to write. the seasonal depression is kicking in i fear<33 also i finally get to watch episode 3 of season 8 tonight. will be writing a drabble for motorcycle buck i know it. anyway, enjoy<33

warnings: slight body shaming, mentions of stalking (cute<3), no use of y/n, fem!reader, plus size!reader, race inclusive!reader

The other night at work, Buck spilled his full glass of beer all over the counter and floor, and although you kept trying to tell him that mistakes happen, he insisted on having you over to his house and cooking you dinner. While you were a little upset about the mess you had to clean up, you laughed until you couldn’t breathe when it happened.

He made such a mess, and his actions looked so dramatic that it almost looked fake. His defeated expression and sheepish shrug as he slowly raised his eyes to look at you over the counter added to the hilarity, and you could hardly be mad when he offered so many times to help clean up his mess.

So, now, here you are. Buck is cooking in front of you, while at the same time trying to show off his bartender skills he learned when he was in Peru, and it’s not going well. He insisted on having you over to make up for the incident, just wanting an excuse to see you outside of work, and he’s glad you said yes. He knew you would. And you’ve been to his house enough times to know that he’s skilled in the kitchen, but the added stress of trying to remember all his training is clearly getting to him as your big, sparkling eyes study his every movement.

Something smells like it’s burning, he’s spilt salt all over the counter and floor while trying to make you a margarita, and he was supposed to add the chopped veggies 10 minutes ago, which are still sitting on the cutting board, unchopped.

“I really don’t mind helping.” you tell him with a laugh. Your cheeks hurt from laughing so much at his antics, and you forgave him almost immediately, so this is completely unnecessary.

“I told you I got it. Come on, I’ve got everything under control.” he tells you nonchalantly. Just as he finishes his sentence, his smoke alarm goes off, and you both jump. 

You stand up abruptly, grabbing the dish towel on the counter as he takes the pan off the stove and turns off the burner.You stand under the smoke detector and wave the towel in front of it, hoping to shut it off before the entire building has to be evacuated. 

Once the smoke detector has stopped blaring and everything is back under control, you sit back down at the kitchen island, trying not to laugh as Buck turns to you with a defeated look.

“Can you grab my phone from the coffee table?” he asks you in a sweet voice, and you nod, immediately getting up and moving to the living room.

“Did you realize you actually do need a recipe?” you tease as you hear pots and pans banging around the kitchen behind you. You assume he’s going to try again, and it makes your heart swell. You’d never dare say anything out loud, but you have a little crush on Buck. It’s normal, sure, but you feel guilty because you also have the same feelings for Eddie. 

They flirt with you all the time, yeah, but they’re your work regulars. And either way, you’re not sure that either one of them actually sees you like that.

“No, I’m ordering a pizza. You’re too high maintenance to cook for.” he teases as you turn around. You scoff, laughing slightly at his words and narrowing your eyes. You shove his phone at him once you’re close enough, sinking back onto the chair with a huff. 

He smirks at your feigned anger, licking his lips as his eyes trail your body conspicuously. He’s used to seeing you at the bar, wearing some sort of outfit that he’s sure you’re only wearing to make tips. He’s seen you outside of work, not that you know that, and he knows you usually don’t wear miniskirts like the one he and Eddie talk about a little too often. 

It’s nice to see you more relaxed outside of work up close though, not bothering to dress up too much. You’re wearing jeans tonight, which still show off your ass in a way that has Buck groaning to himself, but you’re clearly comfortable enough around him to let your guard down. 

While it warms his heart, he can’t help but think about taking that comfort from you completely.

He loves seeing how quickly someone’s face can switch from calm to frightened when he and Eddie hunt, and he’s definitely fantasized about how pretty you’d look when your eyes widen in fear more than once to lull himself to sleep.

One minute you’d be laughing at something he said, body angled towards his and your movements loose and relaxed, and the next you’d be looking up at him with tear-filled eyes, lip quivering as you back yourself into a corner, just begging to be devoured.

“You’re the one that insisted I come over so you can ‘make it up to me.’ I told you you didn’t need to do that.” you tell him, rolling your eyes. His tone is still playful, so you know he’s not actually blaming you, but you still feel a little bad that he wasted all this time for nothing.

“And I told you that I need to make it up to my favourite girl. It’s not every day I find someone who gives me free beers when the manager isn’t around.” he teases, winking at you from across the kitchen island. Your cheeks heat up at his words, and your eyes dart down to the margarita sitting in front of you. He and Eddie flirt with you all the time, but Buck referring to you as his girl makes your head spin.

“Alright, pizza’s ordered. Let’s go sit on the couch while we wait.” he says after a minute or two, setting his phone down on the counter. You nod, getting up and following him to the living room.

You talk for a few minutes, the news playing on the tv in the background, but when a reporter begins to speak, Buck’s attention turns to the tv. Your gaze moves to the tv as well, curious to see what’s gotten Buck’s attention, when you see the video of the two masked men that have been terrorizing your city. 

It’s the same video you talked about with Grace, Afsah, and Cass, as no one else has managed to get them on video. The reporter talks about yet another body being found a few blocks from you, and a shiver rolls down your spine. At the same time, however, you can’t help but think about how Grace and Afsah talked about the two men. 

Your throat goes dry as the video plays in slow motion on the screen, and you can’t help but stare at the outline of the men. They’re very clearly tall and built, and although they’re wearing long sleeves, their biceps looking fucking incredible. 

Your focus is solely on the screen as the video plays a few times, your body betraying your brain that’s telling you not to think the way you are. You squeeze your thighs together subconsciously and chew on your bottom lip, eagerly studying their forms as they move.

Buck notices this, and he smirks to himself as he leans back against the couch, legs spread enough for his leg to touch yours. He imagines you eagerly accepting his advances; how desperate you’d be for his mouth, and his fingers, and his cock. He imagines pushing you back onto the couch and sucking and nipping at your neck while you give him half assed protests, even though you both know how much you want him. It’s clear by how you reacted to the video, even if you don’t know it yet.

He has a smug expression on his face when you finally turn back to him, not that you notice in your daze. You’re clearly embarrassed about how you were staring at the tv, and he can’t wait to wear you down until you’re unabashedly begging on your knees to please him with that pretty little mouth.

He can’t wait to tell Eddie about this; he knows he’ll be just as thrilled about it as him. And he knows that Eddie will agree with him; they need you all to themselves, sooner rather than later.

You roll your eyes when you hear Grace’s loud giggle over the football game, keeping your face down in order to hide your annoyance from the two men sitting across the counter from you.

Ever since you hung out with her a few nights ago, she’s been increasingly passive aggressive to you, and you can’t understand why. It’s little comments every now and then about your body, or how your mascara has started to smudge during your long shift, or that you’re not pouring various alcohols properly. Whatever that means.

While you were upset and confused at first, it’s grown into anger, although your eyes still look sad when you look at her across the bar. She’s been a good friend, and you can’t imagine why she could switch up so quickly.

She’s standing in front of a booth of men adorned with football jerseys, flirting and laughing with them. She’s refused to let you serve them all night, claiming that she’d be able to “bring in more tips,” and all you could do was huff and agree. 

You couldn’t help the jealousy bubbling up inside of you when you regulars walked in, and she tried to steal them from you as well. You watched with a raised brow as she greeted them with a wide smile, and you bit back a scoff as she leaned over the counter, making sure her chest was on display for them.

They shot her down quickly, of course, the sweet men that they are. They both looked at each other with confused expressions before they turned to you, waving you over to them with grins. You gave them a soft greeting before you began to pour their beer, feeling a little awkward as the little green monster jumped off of your shoulders and onto Grace’s, her watching you with raised brows.

“What’s going on with you tonight?” Eddie asks, both him and Buck picking up on the tension between you and Grace. Your eyes dart up to them, surprised that they noticed the eye roll you tried so desperately to hide. 

“Nothing. Just been a long night, I guess.” you tell them, trying to keep your voice light and lacking any hint of the feelings seeping out of you. You don’t want to turn it into a big thing, as much as it hurts you.

Their brows furrow at your response. Normally, you wouldn't miss the chance to rant to them about whatever’s going on in your pretty head. And it’s then that they realize just how much Grace’s words had affected you, and they know that something must be done about it. 

It’s clear to them that Grace is intimidated by you; not being used to having to share attention from men, and they almost laugh. You’re so unaware of your beauty that you think that you’ve done something wrong, and they can’t have that.

“Have I told you how pretty you look tonight?” Eddie speaks up after a moment of watching you furiously trying to scrub off a stain that’s been on the bar table as long as they’ve been coming into this shitty bar.

Your shoulders finally seem to deflate as you raise your gaze to meet Eddie’s, and he can see that you’re trying to fight back a smile as your gaze flickers from his eyes to his chest.

“Shut up.” is all you can bring yourself to say, but Buck is quick to shut you down. Both men want you to feel better. They want you to see yourself as the pretty little thing they do.

“I was just thinking that too. Absolutely gorgeous, baby.” he tells you, licking his lips as his eyes travel down your body.

Finally, your face breaks out into a wide grin, and you look down, laughing softly to yourself as you shake your head. They both glance at each other from the corner of their eyes, smiling smugly. There’s their pretty girl.

“What would I do without y-” is all you can say before Grace comes prancing back over to the bar, holding a fan of money in front of her face.

“Just got a $100 tip from those 6 guys. Said I’m the best server they’ve ever had.” The smiles drop from Buck and Eddie’s face as Grace’s voice trumps your sweet one, and they both roll their eyes when the smile they were finally able to get back onto your face drops along with theirs.

They know that you always work during football nights at the thirteen crows, and they’ve seen the service you give the men that usually attend. You always greet them with the same sickly-sweet smile, and while you’re always extremely nice, you’re not afraid to tease them and give them some attitude when the time is right.

You’re good at your job, they’ll give you that; you always know exactly how to make the men you serve laugh and smile, but it doesn’t mean they’re not jealous while they watch you. 

Even so, they know that you pride yourself on your customer service, and they never miss the way your smile gets just that little bit brighter when you know you’re doing a good job. They take note of the way you thrive on praise. 

They know that Grace is just saying this to make you upset. She wants to make you think that she’s better than you; that you can’t do what she can, which is seduce the male patrons just enough to get a bigger tip.

As you go back to your furious cleaning, barely even acknowledging their presence again, they both give each other knowing looks. They need to leave right now.

“Alright, it’s getting late. Got a shift in the morning.” Buck says, then downs the rest of his beer before standing up. Eddie murmurs an agreement as he matches Buck’s movements. They both pull out their wallets, then slide the money across the counter towards you. They see Grace’s eyes widen from beside you as she sees how much they’re tipping you, and they smirk. It’s what you deserve.

You give them a small smile, grabbing their money and putting what they owe into the cash register.

“I’ll see you soon?” you ask, looking between the two of them.

“Actually, we’re really busy the next week or so. Might not see us.” You frown at Eddie’s words, but nod slowly before you plaster a fake smile back onto your face. You mumble a quick goodbye as they start towards the door, and they almost turn back around when they hear Grace start explaining to you how she got all her tips tonight.

They stop themselves, though. They have to go. Now. Or else they’ll do something they’ll regret. They know Grace has to go; they know they have to take care of their precious girl, but they have to be careful.

They have to plan this. They need some time away from you, or they fear that you’ll make them act on a whim and they’ll get caught. They can’t have that. Not when they haven’t gotten their hands on you yet. Not without knowing how exactly you sound when you fall apart for them. They’ve heard it many times through the shitty speakers of their cameras, but they expect it’ll be all the better when they’re the reason for your pretty little moans.

They haven’t killed anyone that could be tied to them yet, not really. They know they’re heading into dangerous territory, but they can’t stop themselves. They’d do anything to make you smile again, and if getting rid of Grace will do that, then they’re more than happy to oblige.

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[spdrvyn]

out and about: MIGUEL O'HARA

a short drabble about miguel making time to go on a shopping spree with you in a newly opened mall, however you can't help but feel a little shopper's guilt while he's there.

it's been a busy last couple of months to say the least, miguel hadn't been on a proper date with you for a while. you said that you were doing just fine, but he always had a sixth sense about this.

besides, while he was tending to his job of being a multiversal protector, he's neglected his other (and arguably more important) job. being a supportive and present boyfriend.

he forced himself to clear his calendar, turned on DND mode on all of his devices for once, and got into something that wasn't a skin tight nanotech suit. you'd been overjoyed to discover that miguel had stayed home today, moreso when he told you to get ready because he'd be taking you to the mall to buy a couple of things.

a couple of things was an understatement.

whenever you kept your eyes too long on a certain shop, miguel would usher you in to look around a little. if you so much as touched an item, miguel would already be at the cashier and buying it for you. it went on like that for the entire trip.

bag upon bag hung onto miguel's arms, yet he didn't even seem to struggle. it was attractive, but made you all the more guilty because what if he wasn't actually enjoying this? sure, he brought some items along with you, but what if those purchases were to just spare your feelings?

not to mention that the mall was practically colossal in size. if you said that you wanted to go home, miguel would be thinking that he'd done something wrong. that would be even worse. to add on, you haven't even checked if this place had a book store and miguel knows well that you can't leave a mall without taking a peak which would make him even more suspicious.

you also had to stop at a cafe every now and again to let your throbbing legs rest from walking around the whole time, miguel probably had more weighing on his back. you despised the fact that you were stealing his precious time, you couldn't begin to imagine what could be happening back at his workplace without him. would those people manage to survive? would the multiverse survive?

after visiting the last shop of the day, you were relieved to finally have an excuse to tell him that you were tired and wanted to go back home. miguel understood that, but your silence the whole car ride back was deafening. he thought for sure that this would mean a lot to you, the mall felt tailored to your interests, you'd bought a lot.

why weren't you happy?

what did he do wrong?

you insisted on helping him bring the bags back in, which he indulged you to. after setting them all back into the flat, it was already dark. miguel assisted you in unboxing everything you bought, which you did with a sullen look on your face. especially when you were done, looking over all the unwrapped items, how your pile was so much bigger than his. it could bring you to tears. and it did.

as miguel wrapped an arm around you, he felt it. the slight shiver in your shoulders, the muffled hiccup, and the glossiness on your eyes. worry settled in his features, he pulled you closer to him. "hey, hey. what's wrong? you don't like the stuff i—"

you burst into a fit of sobs, face going red and eyes puffed. you desperately tried to wipe away the tears that streamed down, as you whimpered. "i love it, miguel! i love it so much, but- it's just–"

god, he hated seeing you like this. not because you looked ugly crying or because he found it annoying but because of his incompetence. he had one fucking job, way simpler than whatever he did at work. to make you happy, to make you content, this wasn't what he wanted.

"don't cry, please. i'm sorry, lo siento, por favor. baby, if there is anything else i can do for you, i'll do it."

"that's the thing! you've already done so much for me today, you're so– so nice, too nice, that- that i don't know how to give it back."

your crying had eased a little, miguel's face had softened. he's been trying compensate for how little he's been giving you, that's all, but he didn't think about how you are. maybe he's been too nice recently, but you're too nice all the time.

"you don't have to give anythig i do back, mi vida," he sighed as he moved his hands to cup your cheeks, thumbs rubbing the fat of your cheek as your remaining tears smeared across the skin. "just you being here is enough, it's just that i've been— a little absent lately. i wanted to make it up to you."

"you didn't have to do that, miguel. just you being here is enough for me too." you sniffled. god, you were too adorable for him to take at times. he leaned in and pressed a small kiss to the bridge of your nose, to each of your cheeks, then moving down to press one quickly to your lips.

"let's just do that then," he murmured, "be with each other. s'all i need, all i want." and you agreed. wholeheartedly so.

dividers by across-the-art-verse

[xxsabitoxx]

Easy

<Douma x Fem! Reader Drabble>

Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content, unprotected sex, Douma calls the reader “little one” but reader is very much of age don’t get it twisted

A/N: the first of many drabbles! Thank you all for sending so many characters! Douma was the first suggestion I got so naturally I’m just gonna go in order of who was suggested. Next up is Geto :)

Word count: a little under 1.3k

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

“How cute…” you ignored him, jaw clenched tight as sweat dripped down your temple. He was large, much larger than you had ever anticipated and that was honestly saying a lot. Even now, after multiple attempts at this, you still couldn’t get used to the size of him.

Truly you shouldn’t have been shocked when he made you crawl into his lap, just to see you struggle to take him. It was like a power trip for him, watching your thighs tremble in effort to not sink further but not pull away from the pain either.

Douma seemed unbothered, lounging comfortably among his piles of fine silks and pillows. Technicolour eyes observing where he disappeared between your shaking thighs. “Are you sure you don’t want help?” It came out in a sigh, his hand pressing to his cheek as he watched you try and sink a little lower.

“Shut…up…” anyone would be crazy to talk to him like that. It would be the last thing they ever said, especially with that tone. Yet, Douma let you talk to him however you wanted. Why? He found it cute.

“You seem to be struggling little one. Trust me, I could make things work a lot faster.” He cooed, pointed nail trailing up your skin, making you jerk in his lap and cry out. You could hardly catch your breath, knowing well that this process would be a lot more pleasurable for you if you just let him take over.

Yet, you were going against your better judgement and attempting to ride him. The stretch at the angle you were in was nearly unbearable, yet you couldn’t bring yourself to get off him nor change your mind.

“Look at you… making a mess.” His laughter was cold, just as cold as the ever present smile on his face. You knew he was right, your own arousal was starting to drip down your inner thighs. “I said…to shut up.” You choked as you forced yourself to take another inch or so of him.

You were a little over half way there, honestly you couldn’t think much last fitting him. Actually moving once you bottomed out was a completely different battle you’d worry about when it got there.

“Remember what we talked about? About biting the hand that feeds you?” You froze, finally allowing your eyes to meet his. “Be careful how you speak to me, little one.” You knew it was all an act, solely so he could do what he did next. It was a simple movement, his hips jerking up so quickly you couldn’t even prepare yourself for it.

A guttural cry echoed in the chamber as you scrambled for something to hold. Your nails found purchase in the fine silk of his red top, the material bunching a bit at his waist from when he took his belt and pants off. “See, how easy was that?”

You couldn’t speak, the wind knocked from your lungs as you tried to will your body to stop trembling. It was only a matter of seconds before the burning stretch turned to pleasure, but it was still enough to have you seeing stars and praying it would pass. “Cat got your tongue, little one?” Douma smiled, readjusting himself to hold your waist and keep you in place.

He would never get tired of feeling you spasming around him, no matter how many times you stuffed yourself full of his cock you still struggled. He adored it. The pain on your face was just too much for him, how could he not fuck you when you looked so cute struggling.

He’d convince you some day to take his offer, stay by his side and be his eternal play thing.

“Start moving, or I’ll do it for you.” He cooed, gently guiding your waist up. You shivered as you felt him begin to slip out of you, sweat dripping off your temple and down to your bare chest. Douma watched it, tongue darting out to lick his lips. “C’mon little one… don’t keep me waiting.” You nodded, no longer having any will to fight him on his requests.

If you at least amused him by attempting he’d eventually take over and fuck you properly. That was enough to have your body aching as you tried to fuck yourself on his length.

You could barely get him half way out before dropping down again, the pain steadily transitioning to throbbing pleasure as you tried to ignore the burning in your thighs. You felt your face warm as an audible squelch began emitting from between your thighs. The pain from the stretch had disappeared all together, your walls trembling each time he bruised your cervix.

“Little one…” he cooed again, hand leaving your waist to grab your chin. “Just ask, I’ll take over.” His eyes narrowed, the promise of relief was sitting right before you. He could see you struggling to swallow your pride. You always struggled, but you always gave in.

“Master… lord…. Please.” You squeaked, not able to process how you were now on your back, legs thrown over his shoulders with his nails digging into your soft skin. Blood pricked the surface, slowly dripping past the indents Douma’s nails were creating. “So stubborn little one. Look how easy it is to get your way when you listen to me.”

You said nothing, body bracing for him to move. He gave you a once over, smiling at the dried blood and various bite marks he had left on your skin. He would forever be torn between consuming you and keeping you forever. He’d have both if he could.

Douma’s hips drew back before snapping forward again, earning a yell in response. Your cries and whimpers fueled him, hips pounding mercilessly into you after only a few seconds of looking for a good rhythm.

Your head fell back against the cushions, nails digging into the silks. Giving in always pissed you off, but it was hard to stay mad when he was able to hit everywhere just right. As always, you were lost in your own pleasure. You figured out long ago that it was impossible to get Douma to look anything but blissed out.

He’d never let you know he was feeling anything, not even a moan or sigh to let you know you were doing good. The only way you figured Douma even enjoyed himself was when he asked you to come back and do it again. Repetition was your only give away that Douma actually enjoyed your presence.

Then again, he was such a charmer it wouldn’t shock you if he did this kind of thing with the other women in his cult. He promised you he didn’t, but every promise from his lips was typically empty. Unless it was the promise of this…

“Coming already?” He teased as you thrashed against the silk materials decorating his chamber. The addicting clench of your walls around him, the warm gush that he desperately wanted to taste. You could only cry out, letting him abuse your cunt through your high and continue even after you came down.

“You’re so easy, little one. Your pussy is so easy to please.” Your eyes squeezed shut, embarrassment filling your frame as he gushed on and on about how cute you were, how much he loved your cunt, how he could never get tired of it. Even if it was empty compliments, you couldn’t ignore the way your body reacted to them.

Aching for more. Always aching for him.

[charlottes-diary-entries]

metamorphmagus!reader drabble <3

very, very long fluffy ass drabble approaching, just about 2k words. im actually deeply insanely obsessed with the concept of the metamorphmagus (my non-binary is showing, i know) and need more content of a metamorphmagus!reader + poly!marauders.

you officially meet the marauders during your later years at Hogwarts. they'd heard of you before, how could they not? beyond the small class sizes (which required you be aware of essentially everyone in your year, willingly or not), and the houses (which only further narrowed your chances of not knowing anyone), it was difficult for something as rare as a metamorphmagus to slip under anyone's noses.

james recalled seeing you at quidditch games, your hair vividly colored to match whichever team you were supporting. he was often proud to look through the crowd and find you sporting flaring red locks, cheering alongside his fellow gryffindors. he was proud, even if he knew you weren't there for him. very secretly, he often found himself wanting you to be there for him.

remus remembered the awkward instance of a professor dragging you to the front of the class and demanding you transform for him and your peers. it was a substitute for care of magical creatures, and he was determined to treat you like something to study. remus had cringed as you shifted, clearly uncomfortable and disjointed, before running off and skipping the rest of the day, upset. he wished he had gone to comfort you.

sirius often thought about when he spotted you shifting back to your true face while being dragged through the corridors by minnie. she was huffing and puffing about something you had done, some harmless prank scaring some first years with a strange face, but you only laughed. when he caught your eye, you winked, and he could feel his cheeks flush as he grinned. he'd suspected you'd be great fun for a while yet, but you were just beginning to prove yourself to him.

you had mostly slipped them all by up until their fifth year. by then, the boys had all been dating each other only for a short amount of time but it was becoming apparent to the rest of the school that the marauders were now strictly "look, but don't touch". they were really too fond of each other to consider anyone else now! (this was deeply upsetting information for the many young witches and wizards who had their hearts set upon a member of the famous group.)

however, as you had continued to find passion and joy in care of magical creatures despite your previous experience, you were studying to be a magizoologist. this meant, you were assisting kettleburn while james took the class. which of course meant, he finally had a clear opportunity to befriend you.

you and james caught on like wildfire, and it didn't take long for him to begin dragging the other marauders into your study sessions. hours would pass by, quiet jokes turning into loud laughter and getting shushed by the librarian. they found your ability endlessly fascinating and you were only too happy to oblige your new friends. (one time you transformed into sirius and the two of you acted out him falling in love with himself. the uproar it sent james and remus into actually got you kicked out of the library.)

it didn't take very long for you to become the newest unofficial member of the marauders. you were their beloved friend, and unfortunately in remus's eyes, all too smart. you had figured out his "furry little secret" just within the first month of knowing them all. the next month, they sat together in the hospital wing. sirius was holding remus's hand as james lay next to him on the bed, trying to bring him what comfort they had to offer when you stormed in. they were all aghast when you appeared in the hospital wing after the full moon with a full load of chocolate, several novels, and a promise that you'd do anything you could to help Remus through the lunar cycle. (remus thinks this very well may be when he fell in love with you. didn't help that you refused to leave his side for the rest of the day, reading to him and holding his hand in an entirely friendly way.)

you often joined them for the famous gryffindor parties, often getting sufficiently drunk and completely out of your mind. your appearance would shift constantly, struggling to find one stable face and body when your mind was so fuzzy. you would dance and laugh with them all, so when remus had squeezed sirius's hand and sent him to the corner you'd tucked away in, he knew something was wrong. you had been rather viciously rejected by a ravenclaw you liked, and now, very drunk, you were moaning to sirius about your appearance. could you have made your lips fuller? grown your hair? maybe cut your hair? what could have been different, more attractive, what could have made them like you? bigger eyes? sharper features? he had held your shifting face, helping you calm down and relax into your true complexion. (sirius had thought you looked completely gorgeous as yourself, because no matter how you looked, no matter what changed, he could always tell when you were comfortable in your own skin. he liked you best like that.)

and you always stood for what you believed in. once, james and remus had to not-so-gently drag you away from someone who had loudly claimed werewolves were "inhuman monsters". you continued to shout after them until you were dragged out of their sight, after which you gave remus possibly the longest hug he'd ever had. james gave him a soft kiss on the cheek after they sent you off to class, hoping you wouldn't attack any other students. unfortunately, later that same day, james caught you shouting at the very same student, defending a muggle-born slytherin. he didn't hear what they said, but something shifted in your eyes before you physically shifted, taking on a shit-ton of muscle and pouncing on them. he raced to pull you off as you bellowed at them, wordless and angry, before a professor raced over and helped him. you were dragged off to detention for a week and the slytherin dealt with a broken jaw and black eye as punishment for calling the student you had defended a mudblood. (james only felt immense appreciation for you afterwards. he'd never seen you spark like that before, and he'd never seen you look so undeniably hot.)

it was an incredibly comforting conversation between the three of them when sirius had audibly expressed just how attractive you were. james and remus were quick to agree, and it grew to them admitting to each other their collective feelings for you. but with it suddenly out in the open, none of them knew how to interact with you anymore. the previously friendly touches now felt charged, every glance your way was longing, and none of them knew how to manage it.

it didn't help that you seemed to be pulling away from them either, flushing and quickly making your way out of most of your conversations with them. they thought they were scaring you off. in reality, you were scaring yourself off.

you felt the exact same as them, but deeply feared ruining one of your few lasting friendships at the school. you began shifting into new faces, new bodies, ones they wouldn't recognize in order to avoid them in the halls. it stung to see them searching for you in class and around school, and it stung more when they gave up. maybe if you avoided them you'd begin to feel normal about them again. (you'd had enough weird for a life time, the few normal things you could have you desperately clung to.)

eventually, they caught onto you. again, there were only so many students at Hogwarts, so seeing a new one every other day during their classes with you? it was a painfully ineffective tactic.

remus caught you one day, lounging by the lake. well, sulking seemed a more accurate word, as you were incredibly glum, despite being relaxed enough to look like yourself. it felt like the first time he'd seen your actual face in years. he called out to you.

you jumped, and turned to run, but he cried out for you to stay. and well, you couldn't deny him. not when he sounded like that. not when he sounded so... abandoned. you cringed as you turned around and he rushed up, grabbing your face, turning you this way and that, filled with worry. he asked if you were okay, if you'd been hurt, if they'd hurt you somehow, and why in godric's name were you avoiding them so much-

and gently, you grabbed his wrists to still him, opening your mouth to... to what? comfort him? lie and say you were fine? no words escaped you as remus realized what he'd done and quickly pulled his touch away from you, a flush spreading across his cheeks. (he nearly didn't notice how you'd deflated as he stepped back.)

an awkward, pained grin crossed his face as he looked at you and whispered to you, "where'd you go? what happened to... to us?"

you very nearly broke down in tears right then and there, sucking in a sharp breath as you tried to prepare for losing them. that could be the only possible resolution to all this mess, and you'd be on your own. again. that was fine. you began to speak again, before a shout interrupted you.

james barreled past remus to give you a bear hug so forceful he actually tackled you to the ground. sirius was not far behind him, slipping a hand around remus's side and leaning into him, relaxed at finally seeing you.

a few tears slipped down your cheeks as you hugged james back, who only held you tighter, shouting that you could never leave them alone again. "we all love you too much to lose you ever again, so don't ever get lost, okay?"

you chuckled softly, more tears escaping as you buried your face into his neck. your laughter quickly boiled over into quiet sobs, shakily asking, "love, huh? that's- that's an awful big word, you- are you sure you love me?"

"love you? dove, we're plain obsessed with you-" james finally pulled back, shaking your shoulders then cupping your cheeks. "don't cry lovie, why are you crying?"

"because you don't- you don't love me the way i love you."

james tilted his head at you, deciphering your words, before your true meaning hit him like a truck. he grinned, whispering a quiet "fuck it" before shoving completely into your space and smashing his lips against yours. his glasses went crooked and you gasped into it, and there was some teeth clashing from how much james was smiling, but it was wonderful.

when he finally pulled back, panting and gleefully laughing, you could hear sirius's wolf-whistle and remus's shocked chuckles. you quickly looked between all of them, completely shocked before locking back onto james.

"you- you kissed me."

"sure did, dove."

"did," you glanced between all of them again, now keeping your eyes on sirius and remus as you leaned towards james and whispered, "do all of you want to do that?"

james somehow grinned even brighter. "sure do, dove."

"oh."

you felt your cheeks become ridiculously warm as sirius plopped beside you two, dragging remus down with him and smirking at you the entire time. you shyly smiled at him as he leaned over and smacked a kiss to your cheek.

"how- how long have you all been- how long have you felt this way?"

"long enough dove," remus said, leaning over and pressing a sweet kiss to your forehead before smiling down at you.

"certainly long enough."

i'm begging someone to request more metamorphmagus!reader, especially gender queer or otherwise. (i'll probably still write it even if you don't though, lol) i will also be writing more magizoologist!reader! just smth about a reckless partner that the marauders just can't keep track of... <3

[yanderenightmare]

heya! do you have any more writing tips for writing on tumblr? like, any tips to get as much attention as you, kinda

Sure!

♡ Post in different lengths!

Or, more precisely, don’t only post long full-fics with multiple chapters.

I know it sounds weird, but the more effort you put into something doesn’t actually guarantee more payoff. Why would anyone read your hour-long fic if they have no previous experience with your writing that gives you credibility? In other words, how can they know spending an hour reading your writing is worth it?

More people are likely to grab a bite-sized appetizer than they are to sit down for a full five-course meal.

But! The more people like those bite-sized appetizers, the more likely they are to want to sit down for that full five-course meal, you know?

Think of those bite-sized appetizers as taste tests—kind of like commercials that bring more people in to give your actual meals a try.

Also, writing in different lengths is good for you! Only writing hour-long stuff makes you burn out quickly, which brings me to my next tip:

♡ Post often!

If you can, try posting something every day. Of course, you can’t post full hour-long fics every day, which is where writing smaller things such as drabbles, headcanons, and tiny prompts come in. Think of them as flings you have in between your long-term relationships. They’re fun little things good for your health!

But anyway, here’s a tip for when you do have those long-term relationships—as in, when you want to write full-fics or longer posts in general:

♡ Start with a hook! 

My attention should be seized by the first paragraph, if not the very first sentence I read. This is so important.

I’m a very picky reader sometimes—so if that first line doesn’t interest me, I’ll be fast to scroll to find something more enticing. And you can be sure a lot of readers are the same.

Under are some examples of my own start-liners.

Something foreboding:

There’s something very off about your roommate… something eerie that makes you keep your distance.

The plot:

Thinking about the big and burly behemoth Omega finally finding himself the cutest little Alpha to breed with…

Something catchy:

Give a brat an inch, and they'll take a mile. 

Something snappy:

You’re his favorite whore…

Dialogue:

“Feels like you’re luring me into some trap.”

A prompt:

Yanderes who keep you higher than a kite…

In medias res:

You lay on your belly on the bed.

Anyway, they don’t have to be groundbreaking—just anything that will spike interest in the reader.

♡ Write for different characters! And try writing inserts!

Inserts are when you don’t name any specific character in the story but either give options for what characters your audience can imagine or leave it completely up to them. This works best if you have a nice starter-line that tells you what kind of character this is without naming them.

Examples:

Bruiser boyfriend

Ex-military Yandere

Benevolently sexist boyfriend

Creep Step-bro

You can go further and identity the reader as well:

Big, brawny, chubby-muscled Boss and his perfectly bite-sized assistant

In other words, people like to know what they’re about to read before they start.

Otherwise and lastly:

♡ Something logistic you can have in mind is making your writing accessible. 

Say I like one of your posts, and I click your profile to check you and your other posts out, but all I see when I scroll through your blog is endless reblogs and one-off comments about this and that. My second instinct is to check out your Masterlist. If you don’t have one, my mission is fraught, and I’ll be out of there quickly. If you do have one, but it’s messy, then my patience will wane, and again, I’ll be out post-haste. 

The bottomline is to have a neat pinned post that makes it easy to navigate your blog, with all your relevant stuff easily accessible. Check out mine for reference. But the most important is for it to include your rules, how to request, and your masterlists.

Then, of course, this is obvious, but:

♡ Remember that things take time

I’ve been running @yanderenightmare since 2020. Back then, it took me half a year to get my first 1000 followers. And most of my posts would only get about 500 or so likes. And, that’s another thing—if I was doing it for the likes and follows I probably wouldn’t still be here, so make sure you enjoy what you’re writing and stuff. If you have that conviction, then the rest is just a nice bonus.