#the cherry chronicles

[kuroosdarling]

‎♡‧₊˚ ꒰ FEATURING ꒱ virgin!atsumu

‎♡‧₊˚ ꒰ CONTENTS ꒱ : MDNI !! virginity loss, unprotected sex, overstimulation, tsumu and reader fuck each other dumb oops

check out the others here !

"what did ya do to me?” atsumu gasps out, resting his forehead onto yours before he starts moving again.

he can’t help erratically rutting into you, feeling your slick walls coat his cock, driving him further into insanity. the constant pulses your cunt emitted pulls him in a haze, fucking his cum further into you. the way you squeeze him so tightly was going straight to his head, clouding his vision until all he could feel was you.

he never knew it could feel this good. it honestly felt better than any win on the court, higher than any high he’s ever had. something was coursing through his veins, egging him on to push himself as deep as he could into your warm, welcoming cunt.

once you showed him where the clit was, it was game over. he had surprised you, he was a natural. but then again, he was always good at striving to be the best.

and you were being so good for him, laying there and taking it, guiding him with your legs wrapped around his waist. but what else would he expect from his cute manager. the one who had welcomed him to the team with a sweet smile and constant reassurance. he didn’t realize he had gotten any special treatment from you until bokuto commented on it. that’s when he knew you might’ve liked him. and that’s when he decided to make his clumsy move.

it doesn’t matter how many times you’ve cum or how he had already cum, he couldn’t stop even if he wanted to. he kept spilling into you while simultaneously spilling out all the feelings he’s kept locked inside. it was like a dam breaking, once it started it couldn’t stop.

“cant believe i’m the one that gets to fuck ya.” he moans in your ear, hips stuttering against you before finding his pace again. the room was filled with the sound of your bodies slapping together, his balls feverishly clapping against your ass.

he knew he sounded whiny — but he didn’t care. not when every fiber of his being was on fire, the amount of pleasure was overwhelming. the overstimulation was starting to bite at him but there was no way he could stop, even if he wanted to. absolutely addicted to the way your body melded with his.

“shit-” you gasp out, clawing more into his back. the sensation of you drawing small scratches into him brought him back down to reality for a moment, letting out a deep groan.

his eyes quickly found yours as he tried to assess if you were feeling as good as he was feeling. but judging by the way those breathy moans and whimpers of his name were flowing out of your mouth, he hoped he was doing a good job. but he needed you to say it.

“does it feel good? when i fuck ya like this?” he pants, leaving open mouth kisses along your throat. his words were laced with insecurity despite his cocky question, absolutely desperate to know the answer.

“feels so good ‘tsumu.” your words slur together. the nickname caught him off guard and pride swells in his chest, driving him to drive into you harder, grabbing your legs and throwing them over his shoulders. the new position angled him deeper, and he knew he was a goner.

“fuck m’gonna cum again.” he panted out, driven by the need to fill you up more. he felt himself getting tired but he didn’t want to stop, not when you were babbling out for him. breathing wasn’t the priority right now, you were. tears pricked along his last line as his hips stuttered into you, trying to push himself all the way past your wall and lodge himself into your heart.

everything with blank for a moment, white filling his vision as he came in spurts, practically moaning out your name as he emptied himself into you. the way your walls were fluttering around him prolonged his orgasm and he could barely hold on, roughly gripping onto your waist as his lifeline.

but he wasn’t done.

after cumming twice already, overstimulation was ripping into him, the pain shooting directly into his tip. but the pleasure easily outweighed it. especially with the way your slick walls were clinging onto his cock, almost as desperate for him as he was for you. he knew he had another one left in him.

the two of you were drenched in sweat and who knows what else. but he had never seen you look more beautiful as you laid under him, pulling at him for more. his cock twitched at the sight, and he was more than ready to deliver what you both craved.

[bb-eb-db-bb-eb-b-ab-f-b-ab]

[mericanasshole83]

[spaceagebachelormann]

peter with a reader who always forgets things??!?!

like she forgets where she put her sword and to drink water and he has to constantly chase after her and remind her??

that's so cute

ty babe <3

peter pevensie with a gf who forgets things.

♬ fandom: chronicles of narnia

♯ genre: fluff

♪ mars thoughts: AJAJAJAJJA I LOVE HIM SM <33 this is perfect because he’s the loml and i suck at remembering stuff 😭 also i put it as hcs cause that’s how i first imagined it in my head!! dividers by @/benkeibear

♮nav - masterlist

hes so <3

like you’re just walking around minding your own business and then you’re like “hey. wait where’s my water???”

and then your pretty bf is beside you holding it like “you forgot it AGAIN”

and then he lovingly makes fun of you for forgetting you put your water bottle in his hands before walking away and not saying anything

other than the fact he’s constantly chasing you to remind you where you put something (and this can be fairly annoying to him) he finds it cute <3

he’d try to find a way to help you remember when you put them but you forgot how to remember it 😭

you tried dw

he also. kinda hoped you didn’t because he liked being the person you came to when you needed help finding stuff

he seems like one of those people who gets rlly happy knowing he helped another person

so it’s like a huge ego/energy boost for him

BUT if he’s leaving for somewhere and won’t be back for awhile he starts writing down where you put things and gives you the paper so you can look and add to it <3

would def say “don’t forget you have the paper” to be a lovingly boyfriend bitch

ALSO ALSO if you forgot your sword it’d be the funniest thing ever to him

cause like you’re this rlly strong and talented and very pretty sword wielding girlboss

and nobody knows that seconds before you wielded the sword you couldn’t even remember where you put it

and if you forget things like drinking water or even eating cause your busy

he’s a little upset cause like. you’ll die?? if you don’t?? but he doesn’t ever like chastise you cause he knows you’re busy

so he just reminds you or brings you water and food and is kinda just like “eat”

also. he didn’t cook that food. man can’t cook for shit

but if you forget it because you’re just forgetful and not busy hed def scold you a little

it’s not that like. effective 😭 cause he’s just standing there like “you can’t not eat y/n!! >:(”

AND if it takes place in the normal world instead of narnia and y’all go to the same school i have some thoughts

you’ll be like sitting in the cafeteria kinda upset cause you forgot your lunch

and he comes up and sits with you and has like a whole extra lunch prepared

hes so <3

and if you forget to do your homework or some shit like that right before the teacher comes to collect it he slides his hw onto your desk and tells you to write your name and gets in trouble for you

and then susan gets mad at him and everytime she knows you have homework she makes you come over and helps you with it <3

and he also helps!! i feel like he’s english/history smart and susan is geography/math smart so they like choose certain subjects to help with

it gets to the point where they have a whole detailed schedule

edmund is horrified with it because it hangs on the wall and is extremely visible

hes known for trying to destroy it with lucy’s help but that’s not important

MOVINGGGGG ONNNNNN

he’s overbearing. and he knows it.

at first he tries to like not immediately think you’re leaving after forgetting something

BUT HE CANT HELP IT

he asks what you forgot and when you run back inside to get it he probably starts laughing

i’ve officially run out of ideas for this <3 but tysm for requesting it

it made my brain itch /pos

[cherrywperson]

lateposting . happy 1500 days anniversary to the election special ❤️

[glorismorningstar]

MASTERLIST ★彡

VOX

PREGNANT - headcanons

Vox is about to be a father, and the mother of the child is an angel.

PARENTING - headcanons

Now that little Pixel is born, you and Vox raise her thanks to a deal with Heaven and lots of chaos.

LUTE

THE LION CHRONICLES - series

Sera and Emily's fallen sister joins Charlie Morningstar and her friends on the path to redemption after a pluridecade-long wait for a chance to return home to her family and the love of her life, Lute.

THE VIOLET CHRONICLES - series

Set before Y/N's fall, the prequel follows the rebellious Seraph's endeavours in Heaven, from the development of her relationship with the lieutenant of the exorcist army to her bond with her sisters and the struggle with her duties.

VELVETTE

IMAGINE #1

You're late to the Vees' headquarters on extermination day.

[ashykneecaps6]

Rare crunchy cherry encounter

[dragaliareferencearchive]

Incandescent Ode of Resurrection - Genshin Impact

[chowpatty-ka-icebear]

Increases volume above 70% while wearing earphone...

My Phone :

aree bass boosted gaane sunne hai mujhe samjha karo...

[queer-book-character-tournament]

Characters, book, and author names under the cut

Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood - The Mortal Instruments by Cassandra Clare

Will Darling/Kim Secretan - The Will Darling Adventures by K.J. Charles 

Hawk Sunday/Jack Wyatt - Cherry Picked by May Archer

Paige Mahoney/Arcturus Mesarthim - The Bone Season by Samantha Shannon 

[adam-trademark]

Xenoblade Chronicles: Definitive Edition

(2/2)

(February 21, 2024 - February 23, 2024)

[nelegance]

Anytime Lestat or his mother say the words “savage garden”…

my mind:

[casually-salad]

experiment number 126, possible success, needs to be reran. With her power... Equestria will have a new god.

[boldabolda]

hello i deliver some doodles

and a cherry blossom altair drawing

[brokenlovesong]

SHADOWS PAUSE AT THE WINDOW

ace x marcia (+ lots of greaser angst) rating: general word count: 20.9k

“Glory, he’s burning up!” Darry pulled his hand back from his brother’s forehead like it was on fire. Ace knew she should do something. Call for help— check his pulse— anything other than just stand there and gawk. But she couldn't move. It was like her brain was no longer connected to her body and she was frozen in place. All she could think about was that he couldn’t join their friends. Ace never prayed once in her life. But in that moment, what ran through her head on repeat was "please, God, not him, too." Takes place right after “Little Brother” (aka Dally’s death). Ponyboy collapses and is rushed to the hospital. The rest of the gang is left trying to wrap their heads around the fact they just lost two of their family members in one foul swoop.

[short excerpt]

“You’ll leave,” Ace admitted, weakly. Only two words and yet they were sitting in the darkest crevices of her brain. Admitting the truth was hard. It made her fears real. And she felt vulnerable by it. Vulnerability only ever got her hurt. But she felt like she had no other option with Marcia.

“No, I won’t-”

“Yes, you will,” Ace interrupted. “You’ll see how fucked everything really is and decide you want nothin’ to do with it and- and I wouldn’t even blame you. I’m a mess, Marcia.” She was trying so hard to keep the tears at bay. They were there, begging to be expressed. But she was holding her breath— suffocating— afraid to let it out. That was the last inch of control she had. “I’m a fuckin’ mess.”

Warm hands encompassed her own to control the jitters they had and stop the way she’d begun to tear the skin around her nails apart. She focused on the feeling, how soft Marcia’s skin felt compared to her own. There were no calluses on her knuckles. She had a fresh manicure that was smooth to the touch.

“Listen to me, Ace. I love the cool, tough-as-nails-chick who’ll get in the face of a guy twice her size because they pickin’ on her friend— the girl who handed me a switch blade and started giving me tips on stabbin’ people.” Ace gave a small laugh and tried to pull her hands away to wipe the sweat from her palms on her clothing. But Marcia wouldn’t let her. She only brought Ace’s hands in closer and to her chest. Ace could feel Marcia’s heart beating steadily.

“But I don’t expect you to be her all the time. This world ain’t fair and there’s only so much one person can take. Even Wonder Woman has her breaking point.”

[full fic on ao3]

[kaytheday]

Her Mother's Perfect Daughter - Beverly Jitney Bush

This fic is inspired by a post from @staygoldsunsets. Post Link Here! A03 Link Here!

Beverly had always been her mother’s perfect daughter. Shining teeth, straight hair, and a graceful poise that come from a lifetime of private dance lessons that her mother has insisted on since she was two. Sometimes Beverly feels like kicking and screaming at the mere thought of another dance class… not that her mother cares. She can still hear her mothers voice in her head. Good girls don’t kick and they don’t scream. They smile and they go about their day. 

Beverly had since made peace with the dance classes and the diets and the makeup and the expectations and the little perfectionism’s her mother has instilled into her. Because making peace with those things is better than not doing them and risk showing the ugly hateful parts of herself. Dancing, doing her hair perfectly, getting good grades, and dressing cute is usually enough to make people look over all the imperfections that her mother would catch. 

Beverly can still remember the first time her mothers impossibly perfect expectations were made known to her. It was back in grade school, when dancing was still fun and Bev was too young for diet pills. Her best friend in the whole world was another little girl named Ace. They would spend recess wrestling and playing make believe. She would come home with grass stains on her knees and ratty blonde hair but despite her mothers incessant nagging, it was worth it. 

There was usually twenty minutes after school where Bev would wait for her nanny to get there. Often, Ace would stay too and the girls would play together. Beverly never asked, but she knew Ace didn’t have a nanny and she just didn't want to go home. This was before they were greasers or socs. Back when kids were just kids and Beverly was carefree with love in her heart. 

There was one day where the nanny got sick and Beverly’s mother came to pick her up. It was the first day all year that her mother had come to the school. Bev was excited to show off her new friend, not even noticing how her mothers nose turned up in disgust and she let out a huff. 

It was on the car ride home that Beverly got a wake up call. 

“I can’t believe you’ve been playing with that girl! Is this why your hair is all messed up after school every day? You are not allowed to play with that filthy greaser anymore! You’ll make our family look bad and you don’t want to do that, do you Bev?” 

So that’s exactly what Beverly did. She listened to her mother and stopped playing with that ‘filthy greaser’. Instead, opting for the other well dressed little girls with respectable parents and straight hair. 

Good daughters must listen to their mothers. Isn’t that something her father used to say? Good girls listen to their mothers. Listen to yours, she knows what she's talking about. So she does. Beverly does everything her mother says… sometimes even more. 

This includes the dancing and the diet pills and the special shampoo and the country clubs and French language classes and learning how to talk to her parents' friends. It also includes the parts that her mother has sworn her to secrecy about. Like the time she ate too much at a church dinner and her mother forced her to throw up in the bathroom so she could fit into her church dress later. A finger deftly swiping down her throat as she gagged on her knees in the stall. Good girls don’t eat that much at a church dinner. See how they’re all looking at you? You don’t want to be a cow, do you Bev?

It’s not that she doesn’t like going to events with her parents and talking to her parents' friends. It’s just… it's not so much talking as showing off. Her parents drag her around to show off to their friends. Here is our pride and joy, our beautiful daughter, Beverly. Sometimes it feels like she’s nothing more than a show pony, a prize to be won. Not a person, just a face. A face that her mother has carefully constructed to be what people should see. Beverly is her mothers perfect daughter. 

The only real problem is that she shouldn’t hate it. Beverly knows she’s pretty, with good teeth and hair and she has great manners and good grades. There are a lot of good things about her. So she shouldn’t hate what makes her mother seem so happy and her father seem so proud. At the very least, it gets her mother to stop nagging her. So she tries not to hate that her life has become a constant showcase but she’ll be a glorified show-pony as long as it keeps those bitter parts of herself hidden. Under the surface there is this shameful fear that she is constantly in danger of losing control because of how wild and angry she is. This resentment fills her like a boiling pot. But even a pot as pretty as Beverly is bound to boil over. She just never knows when, and that scares her. 

“Y-You’re so… You’re so… m-manipulative!” The girl looks proud of herself for finding that word. Bev takes another drag on her cigarette as she stares at the girl who more than anything wants to be in their little soc group. But Beverly just cocks her head and smiles, a little thrill going through her at the thought of what comes next. This one is going to sting.

“How long did it take you to sound out that word in the mirror this morning? Probably longer than it took you to do that hair, terrible.” Bev laughs while the girl gasps and turns to run away, tears filling up her eyes. Beverly may be her mothers perfect daughter, but that doesn’t mean she has to be nice about it and she’s definitely not below making fun of a kid with a stutter. Not with the instant satisfaction it gives her.

“You could have just told her no.” Marcia says from her side, taking a drag on Beverly’s cigarette. 

“Yeah, I could have, but where’s the fun in that?” What Marcia doesn’t know is that those little comments contain everything that Beverly can never say. It’s the terrible thing inside her that makes her say it. Ruthless cruel things that will ensure her place in the school's social hierarchy. Beverly knows exactly where she stands and nobody can knock her down. 

Saying little things like those give her a release that is beyond any comprehension. One that she could never talk to any of her friends about. It’s these shots of malice and occasionally beating up on greasers with her boyfriend that give Beverly relief better than any kind of substance. It hits a sick sort of sweet spot, one that Marcia and Cherry have given her too many weird looks for. But they don’t know how it feels. They could never understand the pressure she’s under. The pressure to be perfect. To be everything. 

She can still remember the first time her fist cracked against the cheek bone of a greaser who was dumb enough to be on the wrong side of town. Brill and their friends had plans to go to the lake for the day when they caught the guy on the side of the road. They had pulled over and the boys had jumped out of the car. Beverly found herself following them, despite Marcia and Cherry’s protests that they all get back in the car. 

Beverly had just watched with sick satisfaction as they boys hit each other, wishing more than anything that she could join the fight. Maybe in another life, one that her mother wasn’t a part of, she was a boxer instead of a dancer. Then, when they had the greaser down, Brill offered her the last punch. She could hardly stop herself from nodding, a twisted smile on her face. And so she’d done it, with as much power as those boys, her rings leaving indents in the boy's face. 

Then they’d been off to the lake, not looking back. Beverly spent the rest of the day pretending that the whole ordeal hadn’t made her feel some sort of sick relief. 

It was because of this pressure to be everything all the time, that violence and her venomous words became her only outlet. Underneath all this pressure to uphold their families public image was a deep resentment towards her mother for making her care so much about what people thought. 

She could only imagine if her mother found out about the feelings that her perfect daughter had bubbling underneath the surface constantly. It would probably be like the time she’d bobbed her hair. As soon as she’d come home, her mother had slapped her clean across the face, yelling that they were supposed to be respectable people. That Beverly was not to be modeling herself after those spinsters who were chanting for women's lib and going braless in the street. They were a respectable family and Beverly was going to ruin all of it for a haircut. How selfish. She’d gone to bed without dinner for a week which her mother claimed was a good thing anyway. The crime? Attempting to ruin her families' perfect image. 

Anyone who says that greasers have it worse than socs have obviously never met Beverly's mother and her impossible expectations. 

Beverly is her mothers perfect daughter. Truly the pride of the West Side.