#sweatin

[geareduptom]

Anger Managment field trip lol~

[moonrpg]

too warm in my jacket incident

[misty-missdee]

Okay, now my head is spinning in a good way instead. 3 interviews tomorrow including an in person one. Another for next week.

[thatssounicorny]

Unicorn of the Day

“Sweatin Unicorn”

[hehether]

Let's get high on ibuprofen together

[ato-dato]

[fyllophobia]

bonus bonding over tea:

[naariel]

Halsin, my heart 💚

[nymphomatique]

wanna sit on nerd miguel’s face while i use my phone to snap other guys that’s my little chair fr😔😻

this just changed the trajectory of my life in a way you cannot understand.

cw: slight d/s dynamics, sending nudes, munch miguel makes an appearance once more, bro literally FEASTS, new character yippee (v minor), brief choking (more like a neck squeeze tbh), praise, squirting LOL, miguel gets kicked out again 😔 reader catching feelings?? we may never know. semi proofread today i felt nice. this is a longer one than usual, so enjoy!

“stop fuckin’ squirming down there and eat me out properly,” you say, looking down at miguel. his eyes are hazy and hooded, his glasses somewhere on the bed, his brown eyes clear as day. you grip his head by his hair and position him to where his nose brushes above your clit, and you moan at the feeling. “l-like that, okay miguel? be good for mommy.”

miguel takes heed of your instructions and begins to lick, suck, and thrust up into your wetness, making it hard for you to maintain something relative to your composure. in the throes of miguel’s mouth work, your phone screen, next to miguel’s head, lights up with a snapchat notification from none other than the star quarterback of your school, peter parker. you bite the corner of your lip, mouth pulling up in a smile at an idea. you grab your phone and open it to snapchat, seeing peters name at the top of your snap list. you open his snap and it’s a picture of him shirtless, abs on display, his happy trail just peeking over the band of his pants. his snap is captioned with text reading ‘wyd?’

you prop your camera up, angling it enough that miguel’s face and your pussy are out of frame. miguel stops for a moment to ask what you’re doing, but before he can get a word in you speak up, “if you stop, this will be the last time i ever let you touch me. got it? keep fucking going.” and wordless, miguel does as he’s told, going back to eating you but with a new energy this time. it catches you off guard a bit, and you let out a light f-fuck in response, but you don’t let it derail you from answering peter back.

peter. you and him have had.. complicated history to say the least. since high school, the two of you ran in the same social circles, with him being on your high school football team and you, a cheerleader. a true status quo. the two of you had ended up attending the same underaged parties, hooking up and even going steady for some time, until the blonde busty thing known as gwen stacy walked into your high school in sophomore year and made her claim on your then boyfriend. you figured it out after you walked in on them under the bleachers post-game, the spot where you habitually got on your knees to congratulate peter for his win. you stayed with him after a profuse apology and intense “i’m sorry” fuck session, to your dismay, but broke up with him in the beginning of your senior year. now, you two fuck from time to time, scratching an itch when you have it.

you look back at the tease of a photo on your phone, your tits spilling out your plunge neck crop top and your abdomen cutting off right above your pubic area, your pink thong still visible coming up the sides of your hips. you feel miguel plunge his tongue into you, causing you to fall forward, steadying yourself with one hand, phone in the other. “keep this up and i’m gonna squirt on you, but i bet you’re into that huh?” you laugh out a little, miguel moaning into you in response. you try not to get distracted and caption your snap to peter ‘nothing really’ and press send.

immediately, you see that he opens it and he replies just as fast, this time the photo of him in grey sweats with a visible tent, layer out on his bed. the caption attached, ‘wanna turn your nothing to a something? ;)’ and you roll your eyes. you move to answer him with another midriff picture, but you change your mind. “hey, look at me dweeb,” you say, turning the camera so that it’s capturing the angle of miguel’s mouth on your pussy, covered in spit and your juices. he looks up and sees the camera of your phone pointed down towards him and he goes red in the face and tight lipped. “remember what i told you about stopping,” you remind him, and he maintains eye contact with the camera as he goes back to lick a strip up your pussy, from your leaking hole to your clit. you move your unoccupied hand to his face, palm to his cheek as you slowly caress him with your thumb. “that’s a good boy.”

you move your hand from his cheek, trailing softly down to his strong neck and you wrap your hand around his neck and squeeze. at the pressure he lets out a groan, his hands moving to grip your thighs tighter to his face. “fuck miguel, you’re making mommy so happy right now- ah! fuck, just like that. keep doing that, o-okay?” you moan out. he says nothing, his eyes, still maintaining contact with the camera, clouded with lust, answering for him.

you snap a picture, turned on at the lewdness of it. it’s your pussy on miguel’s face, pink panties pushed to the side as his mouth is sucking on your clit, his hands gripping the fat of your thighs, and your hand around his neck at the same time. you make quick work to save the photo and caption it ‘busy, sorry’, feeling your orgasm approach. you press send and drop your phone, ignoring the back to back buzzing, probably of peters reply to your salacious snap.

a steady heat begins to boil in the pit of your stomach, and you keen forwards, your hand leaving miguel’s neck to grip the white sheets on your bed. “i’m gonna cum, i’m gonna cum, i’m gonna-“ and with that, you feel the pleasure within you tighten then burst, like a damn breaking way, and you begin to tremble as miguel continues his work down on you. the overstimulation begins to hit you, and you feel a spurt of liquid leave your body and miguel groan and suck. “oh my god,” you heave out, “st-stop, no more.”

miguel places a final kiss to your mound as he moves to lift your limp hips for you. he feels sheepish how, his sweater and mouth drenched with your liquids. he wipes his lips and makes way to speak to your still firm on the bed. “are- are you okay?”

you say nothing, grab the nearest pillow you have, and throw it at him. miguel dodges and understands that means get the fuck out.

after collecting yourself, your body still spent and sheets still wet, you roll over on your back and grab your phone to look at what peter replied to you. you open his snap, and laugh a little at his responses.

peter 🚮

| is that fucking o’hara..?

| you’re fucking with me???

| fucking whore

| you sleep with nerds now??

you make way to reply to peter one more time, opening the camera and taking a picture of the wet bedsheets, caption it ‘nerds that can make me cum? yeah’ and unadd him after.

you finally haul yourself up to change your sheets when you see miguel’s glasses on your bed. you grab them and put them on your nightstand, feeling heat rush through your blood to your face, thinking of him and the mess he made of you.

fucking dweeb.

[harp-bo-barp]

i just finished watching the last season of sweet tooth and holy shit that fucked me up. that was so good jesus christ. I'm like literally speechless 😭 the way they talked about death and grief... hit a little too close to home, but I'm so fucking glad it did. god. this show is a masterpiece idk why it doesn't have more attention

[kifaprokumiv]

Butch stink compels you

[rockingthegraveyard]

I love how Jason’s entire time in jail is basically giving off “leave me alone this the most peace I’ve had in a month” vibes

he’s not even sweatin’ over the fact he didn’t kill the Joker

probably thinking either they’re lookin’ at the wrong one or even thinking “figures” because fuckin guy never dies

[wynnyfryd]

“I could— ugh. I don’t know, I could maybe try throwing the Harrington name around? See if it gets me a pity hire or something. And then I’d have my own money, and you- you could stop selling if you wanted to.”

“What?” Eddie snorts. “Want me to be your kept boy, is that it?”

Steve says nothing, but his face goes hot, and he knows Eddie can read him by the way his eyes narrow and his tongue pokes at the inside of his cheek. “Yeah, Harrington, see. The thing is,” he flicks his cigarette; crushes it. “I much prefer to be the keeper.”

[gemeenteurk]

im in the sauna it is hot

[terr-hedgehog]

Don’t talk to him rn, he’ll crumble into a million pieces. Thoughts and prayers are fine, though.

[lllluffyvert]

For the prompt: Luffy groping Zoro while both are asleep, and Zoro waking up and having to endure it (⁠｡⁠・⁠/⁠/⁠ε⁠/⁠/⁠・⁠｡⁠)

It's late into the winter season, and a biting chill seeps through the creaking wooden boards of the Going Merry. Her crew hunkers down together in the captain's quarters, sharing warmth beneath layered blankets and sleeping peacefully.

Zoro had decided against joining the sleep pile on the floor, where Usopp was curled around a snoring Chopper, with Luffy's right arm thrown over their faces as his left elbow dug into Sanji's back. Nami and Vivi had taken the twin sized bed, only the tops of their brightly colored heads visible beneath a stack of thick furs. Zoro had chosen the hammock, the gentle back and forth sway of the ship having lulled him to the brink of sleep. His eyes closed, he listens to the wind as it whistles through the cracks in the wood, shivering slightly as the cold creeps up behind through all the tiny holes in the weave of the hammock.

He grits his teeth and bares it. He is not sleeping on the floor - his back will hate him for it in the morning. He pulls his blanket up to his chin and closes his eyes, tries to focus again on the rocking of the ship but damn, it's cold.

"Pst, hey, Zoro."

Luffy appears above him, eyes half lidded with sleep and a blanket wrapped around his shoulders.

"Scoot over."

Zoro scoffs. "There's no room."

"There's plenty of room," Luffy says with a jaw cracking yawn. He doesn't wait for a response, but throws his blanket over them both as he slides into the hammock, tucking himself against Zoro's side and pillowing his head upon Zoro's chest. He sighs deeply as he finally settles, closing his eyes and finding sleep immediately.

He's so warm, is the only thought in Zoro's mind as he wraps his arms around his captain, breathing in the scent of Luffy's hair as he slowly drifts into unconsciousness.

He wakes again what feels like only seconds later - not because of the cold, or the wind, but to the feeling of Luffy's warm fingers slipping under his shirt, ghosting over his skin and sending a different kind of shiver up his spine. Luffy's breathing is deep and even as he slumbers, blissfully unaware of the way Zoro holds his breath as Luffy's hand moves further down, featherlight over Zoro's abs, his navel, reaching the waistband of Zoro's pants, and stops. He hums contentedly and nuzzles his cheek against Zoro's chest where his heart pounds so loudly, he's sure it'll wake him, but Luffy remains still, fingertips just barely tucked into the fabric of Zoro's trousers, his warm breath puffing against Zoro's skin.

Sleep is hard to find that night.