#there better be writing send to me or else

[spatialwave]

Hi!! For the kiss prompts, I’d love to read something Reader x Viktor with the scenario ‘kisses meant to distract’ + the dialogue “i think i deserve a kiss” 🥹 thank you!!

tysm for sending this ask!!!! this was so cute to write and it healed me ahaha

➸ pairing: viktor x gender neutral!reader ➸ word count: 680 ➸ tags: mdni! fluffy, hurt/comfort, soft kissing, guilt, sweet ending, reader is in a long-term relationship w/ viktor, no use of y/n. ➸ notes: asked from this prompt list!!

Hextech was a blessing and a curse. It’s components to better society had been coming to fruition, but at the expense of Viktor’s sanity. Hexgates weren’t enough, all they had done was progress the city of Piltover. Nothing had been done to help anyone else. The people in Zaun—himself.

The pain in his body had become unbearable most days, his body frail and weakening with every passing moment.

He wondered why you stuck around all these years, staying at his side as his health deteriorated. You weren’t married, children weren’t on the agenda, and all he did was spend countless hours in his lab with Jayce and Sky.

It wasn’t fair to you.

Yet, you stayed.

Stopping by with a home cooked meal that he picked at, or offering your presence for a few hours while you silently read at the table in his lab while he studied the glowing hexcore.

There was a particular week when Viktor lost all hope. Jayce, now head of the council, had spent less time with the research–in favour of protecting Piltover. A drastic turn of events from their previous shared hopes and aspirations, a way to help rather than hurt.

He sat at one of the aqueducts that sent water from Piltover into the fissures, looking out at the skyline and holding his weight onto his cane. His eyes were tired and cold, souless.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” you said calmly, causing Viktor to jolt and glance in your direction from the sudden intrusion, “Am I interrupting?”

“No,” he cleared his throat, attempting to sit up straighter with his hands still holding tightly to the handle of his cane, “needed some time to, eh… think.”

Sitting next to him on the ledge, you rested your cheek against his shoulder and a hand curved over his slender thigh.

“...about us?” Your voice was hushed, eyes watching the water stream below you.

Viktor’s eyes widened, shaky as he stared at you. You were nuzzled against him, the look of a sad pout covering your face. He could sense the insecurity radiating from you.

“About the hexcore,” he answered honestly, sighing as he pressed his lips against the top of your head, resting there as a fragile hand held the small of your back, “about hextech… I can’t seem to figure it out. It’s been weeks of nothing. It’s… it’s…”

You lifted your head up, lips twitching as you pressed a finger to Viktor’s lips, shushing him. Your eyes flickered between his.

“It’s eating you alive,” you finished his sentence, but not in the way he had intended.

Your heart was heavy for him. Any insecurities of yourself were long gone, and you understood the pain that Viktor was experiencing. It was defeat, feeling unworthy—terrified of death.

You felt terrible for even thinking it had anything to do with you.

“Kiss me,” you mumbled, the finger placed against his lips replaced by your thumb as you grazed it along his bottom lip. Your intent to distract him from the thoughts that weighed him down.

Viktor bore a quizzical look, brows knotting together as he blinked at you.

“Come on,” you murmured, “I think I deserve one. I haven’t seen you in days.”

The corners of his lips twitched, for once, his mind not clouded by thoughts of the hexcore. Instead, fixated on you and the way you looked at him so lovingly with your big doe eyes. How was he so lucky to have someone like you?

He dipped forward, your thumb dropping as his lips pressed to yours. A soft kiss, one that bridged the gap that had begun to split you apart. They moved together fluidly, one of his hands cupping your jaw, as yours pressed against the front of his shoulders.

“I love you,” Viktor murmured, breaking the kiss as your lips brushed together, “thank you… for staying.” His thanks were genuine, you could see the way the guilt flickered in his golden eyes.

“Kiss me again, and I’ll forgive you,” you smiled, closing your eyes as Viktor obliged, smiling against your lips.

[rootedinrevisions]

Let's Find Out Together

SUMMARY: After a painful breakup, you turn to Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw, your longtime friend, for support. But as he steps in to help you heal, he reveals that he’s been harboring feelings for you all along. What starts as a comforting distraction quickly turns into an intense, unexpected connection that blurs the line between friendship and something more. Now, as the sparks fly, you're left questioning everything you thought you knew about love, friendship, and passion.

A/N: Thank you to the Anon who sent this request in! this was a fun one to write! I hope you enjoy it!

PROMPT: "What do you like?" "I don't know." "Well, then how about we find out together?"

WARNINGS/TAGS: 18+ Minors DNI. Smut. (Biting, Marking, Oral Female Receiving)

WORD COUNT: 4.7k

TAG LIST: IN COMMENTS

If you would like to be added to any of my Tag Lists please feel free to comment, send an ask, or send a DM and I'll be happy to get you added! Below are the fandoms I currently write for.

Glen Powell: Himself (RPF), Characters He's Played

Twisters: Tyler Owens, Boone, Scott, Javi

Top Gun: Maverick: Rooster, Hangman, Bob

Marvel/MCU: Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers

WWE/Wrestling: Cody Rhodes, Corey Graves, Damian Priest, Drew McIntyre, Finn Balor, Jimmy Uso, Jey Uso, Kevin Owens, L.A. Knight, Pat McAfee, Roman Reigns, Seth Rollins (if there is someone you're thinking of from WWE and they aren't on the list feel free to ask! There are so many guys on the roster that these were the ones that came to mind.)

The Hard Deck was alive with its usual buzz—boots scuffed against the wooden floors, laughter echoed from the pool table, and the jukebox played a classic rock song that you barely registered. You sat at the bar, staring down into the bottom of your glass like it might hold the answers to every question rattling around in your head.

“Hey,” came a familiar voice from behind you.

Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw slid onto the stool beside you, his presence like a balm for your frayed nerves. His aviators hung from the neckline of his shirt, and his easy smile faded the moment he got a good look at your face.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, his tone softer now, concerned.

You tried to muster a reassuring smile but knew it fell flat. “Nothing. Just… a long day.”

He wasn’t buying it. Bradley had known you long enough to spot when something was bothering you. His brow furrowed as he leaned in closer, his voice low. “Come on. It’s me. What’s going on?”

You hesitated, your fingers tracing the rim of your glass. Then, with a quiet sigh, you admitted, “I broke up with Derek.”

Bradley’s expression flickered—something unreadable passed over his face, a mix of surprise and something else you couldn’t quite place. He took a moment, then asked, “What happened?”

You swallowed, the words feeling heavier than they should. “I caught him cheating on me.”

Bradley’s hand clenched around his beer bottle, his jaw tightening. “That asshole,” he muttered under his breath, then louder, “He can go screw himself.”

You snorted at his bluntness, a small laugh escaping despite yourself. Bradley’s intensity softened as he looked back at you.

“I’m serious,” he said, his tone gentler now. “You deserve better than that. Better than him.”

“Yeah, right,” you replied with a hollow laugh. “Good guys aren’t as common as they used to be.”

Bradley shrugged casually, but his lips twitched into a small smile. “I think I’m a pretty good guy.”

You blinked, caught off guard, then smiled at him. “Yeah, you are. One of the best, actually.”

He leaned forward, his forearms resting on the bar. “Then let me take you on a date.”

You stared at him, momentarily stunned. “Bradley…”

His brown eyes held yours, steady and earnest. “I mean it. Let me take you out.”

“You don’t mean it,” you said, shaking your head, though your pulse quickened at the thought.

“I do,” he countered, his voice unwavering. “I’ve liked you for a while. But you were with Derek, and I wasn’t going to get in the way of that. Now that you’re not…” He trailed off, his gaze softening. “I just want to show you how you should’ve been treated all along.”

Your heart twisted at the sincerity in his voice. For a moment, you couldn’t speak, couldn’t process how Bradley—your steady, dependable Bradley—was suddenly baring his feelings to you like this.

“I don’t know what to say,” you admitted quietly.

“Say yes,” he said simply.

Your lips curved into a small, hesitant smile. 

“Okay,” you said, the word slipping out before you could second-guess yourself.

His face lit up, and he reached out, brushing his fingers lightly against yours where they rested on the bar. The touch was tentative, warm, and for the first time that night, you felt the weight on your chest ease just a little.

“Let me take you home,” he said. “You’ve had enough of this place for one night.”

You nodded, letting him help you off the stool. As he led you toward the door, his hand resting lightly on the small of your back, you couldn’t help but wonder if this was the start of something you’d been too blind to see before.

The drive back to your place was quiet at first, the soft hum of the engine filling the space as you leaned back in your seat, watching the lights of the town blur past. Bradley’s hand rested casually on the gearshift, his fingers drumming lightly against it in time with the song playing low on the radio.

“So,” you said, breaking the silence, a small smirk tugging at the corner of your lips, “is this you taking me home and tucking me in? Or is this you taking me home?”

Beside you, Bradley’s lips twitched into a grin, though he kept his eyes on the road. “Depends,” he said smoothly, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye. “What do you want it to be?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “You’re impossible.”

“Hey, you’re the one who asked.” His tone was light, teasing, but there was an undercurrent of something more—something that made your stomach flip.

“Just so you know,” you said, folding your arms across your chest in mock indignation, “you’re terrible at tucking people in. I seem to remember you leaving me to sleep on a couch last New Year’s while you stole my blanket.”

Bradley laughed, the sound warm and genuine. “First of all, that blanket was fair game. Second, you’re the one who insisted on watching that terrible rom-com marathon. I was being a good friend by suffering through it.”

You shot him a playful glare. “Suffering? You cried during The Notebook.”

“I did not.”

“You absolutely did.”

He sighed dramatically, shaking his head. “Fine. Maybe I got something in my eye. A guy can be moved by powerful cinema without crying, you know.”

“Sure, Brad,” you said, unable to keep the smile off your face.

The banter continued, easy and familiar, until he pulled up outside your place. He shifted the car into park but didn’t immediately move to unbuckle his seatbelt. Instead, he turned to you, his expression softening as his eyes searched yours.

“Seriously, though,” he said, his voice low, “it’s up to you. I meant what I said back there. I’m not in a rush. I just want to be here for you.”

Your smile faded into something gentler as the weight of his words settled over you. “I know, Bradley. And… I appreciate it.”

For a moment, neither of you moved, the air in the car thick with something unspoken. Then you reached for the door handle, breaking the spell.

“You coming in, or are you going to sleep in the car?” you asked, your tone teasing but your heart pounding.

Bradley grinned, unbuckling his seatbelt. “You know I’m not letting you go in there without company.”

You reached your front door, fishing your keys out of your bag, the cool night air brushing against your skin. Bradley trailed behind you, close enough that you could feel the warmth of his presence. As you tried to slot the key into the lock, your hands trembled—whether from the chill or the way your heart was racing, you weren’t sure.

Before you could get the door open, you felt him. Bradley’s hands slid gently around your waist, his touch tentative at first, as though giving you the chance to pull away. When you didn’t, he pulled you closer, his chest pressing against your back.

“Bradley…” you started, your voice barely above a whisper.

His only response was to lean down, his lips brushing softly against the curve of your neck. The first kiss was light, testing, a feather-soft touch that sent a shiver down your spine. The second lingered longer, his warm breath fanning over your skin as he pressed his mouth to the sensitive spot just below your ear.

“Is this okay?” he murmured, his voice low and husky against your neck.

You closed your eyes, tilting your head slightly to give him better access. “Yeah,” you hummed, the word barely audible.

You swore you felt him smile against your skin before he continued, his kisses growing bolder, more insistent. His lips trailed down the side of your neck, tracing a path toward your shoulder. His hands splayed across your stomach, anchoring you to him as his mouth moved lower.

Every kiss sent a wave of warmth through you, the world outside your little bubble fading away.

“Bradley…” His name slipped from your lips, half a sigh, half a plea, though you weren’t even sure what you were asking for.

He hummed in response, his lips still trailing over your skin. His touch wasn’t rushed or desperate—it was deliberate, reverent, as though he’d been waiting for this moment for longer than he cared to admit.

You turned your head slightly, trying to catch his gaze, but he paused, his lips brushing against your shoulder as he spoke. “Tell me if you want me to stop,” he said softly.

You didn’t answer with words. Instead, you turned fully in his arms, your hands sliding up to rest on his chest. His brown eyes searched yours, and whatever he saw there must have been enough, because his lips were on yours a moment later, warm and sure, pulling you even closer.

Bradley’s lips never left yours as his hands moved down your back, his fingers grazing over the curve of your hips before gripping your thighs. With an effortless motion, he lifted you, and you instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist, your arms looping around his neck for support.

Your breath hitched as he adjusted his hold, steady and sure, like he’d done this a hundred times in his mind. The strength in his arms sent a shiver through you, and for a fleeting moment, you wondered how he managed to make it all look so seamless.

Still cradling you securely, Bradley leaned back just enough to reach behind you, pushing your door open with one hand. The kiss never faltered, his lips still moving against yours in a way that made your head spin. The door swung open, and he stepped inside, his boots echoing softly against the hardwood.

With a swift motion, he kicked the door shut behind him, the solid thunk of it closing grounding you in the moment. Then he turned, pressing your back gently against the wall, his body pinning yours in place.

Your fingers threaded through his hair, tugging lightly as his lips traveled down, brushing over your jawline and back to your mouth. The intensity of his kiss deepened as his tongue slipped past your lips, teasing, exploring, drawing a soft moan from your throat that you couldn’t hold back.

Bradley’s hands slid down your sides, his touch leaving trails of heat in its wake. When they settled on your waist, his thumbs stroked slow, deliberate circles against your skin through the thin fabric of your shirt. The way he held you—firm but gentle, steady but utterly consuming—made your pulse race.

Every movement, every touch, felt purposeful, like he was trying to show you with his hands and mouth everything he hadn’t yet said out loud.

“Bradley,” you murmured against his lips, your voice breathless and shaky.

“Hmm?” he hummed, his lips brushing yours as he paused just long enough to look at you, his brown eyes dark and full of something that made your stomach flutter.

You couldn’t form the words, but he didn’t seem to need them. Instead, he dipped his head again, capturing your lips in another searing kiss that left no room for doubt about how he felt—or how much he wanted you.

Bradley pulled back just enough to break the kiss, his lips hovering near yours as his warm breath brushed your skin. His hands still rested on your waist, his fingers pressing lightly into your sides as his eyes searched yours with a mixture of mischief and heat.

“So,” he murmured, his voice low and teasing, “do you still want me to just tuck you in?”

The question made your pulse quicken, but instead of faltering, a surge of boldness rose within you. Your fingers tightened in his hair, tugging his head back gently but firmly, exposing the strong line of his throat. His lips parted slightly, and a low groan rumbled in his chest, the sound sending a shiver through you.

You leaned in close, your lips brushing the edge of his jaw as you whispered, “I want you, Bradley.”

His reaction was immediate. His hands tightened on your hips, pulling you closer against him as his eyes darkened with an intensity that made your breath catch. “You have no idea how long I’ve waited to hear that,” he muttered, his voice rough and full of unspoken desire.

Without another word, he shifted you in his arms with ease, his hold on you unwavering as he stepped back from the wall. Your legs tightened instinctively around his waist, your fingers still tangled in his hair as he turned and started down the hallway.

The journey to your bedroom felt electric, every step punctuated by the tension between you. Bradley’s grip on you was sure and steady, his strength making you feel both weightless and completely grounded.

As he reached the door to your room, he paused, glancing at you with a small, almost cocky smirk. “Last chance to back out,” he teased, though his voice held a note of seriousness beneath the playfulness.

Your response was simple: you leaned forward and kissed him, pouring every ounce of your pent-up feelings into it. That was all the answer he needed.

With a quiet chuckle, he carried you over the threshold, his lips finding yours again as he stepped inside and nudged the door closed behind him with his foot.

Bradley walked you over to the bed, his movements careful and deliberate, as though he wanted to savor every second. Gently, he lowered you onto the soft mattress, his hands lingering on your hips for a moment before he leaned over you. The room felt still, save for the quiet rustle of sheets beneath you and the sound of your own uneven breathing.

He braced himself on one arm, his other hand brushing a strand of hair from your face as his lips met yours again. The kiss deepened, slow and unhurried, as if he had all the time in the world. Then his mouth began to travel, leaving a trail of kisses along your jaw and back down to your neck.

Between kisses, his voice came out low and teasing. “What do you like?”

The question caught you off guard, and you froze for a moment, your mind blanking under the weight of it. “I don’t know,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

Bradley stilled, his lips hovering just above your collarbone. He pulled back slightly to look at you, his brows furrowing in confusion. For a moment, he seemed to hesitate, as if he wasn’t sure he’d heard you correctly.

“You’ve... you’ve done this before, right?” he asked, his voice tinged with an awkward uncertainty.

A laugh bubbled out of you, breaking the tension. “Yes, I’ve slept with people before,” you said, your tone light and reassuring. “It’s just... all the guys I’ve been with only ever did missionary.”

His expression shifted instantly. First, his eyes widened in disbelief, and for a split second, you thought he might be about to argue. But then his lips curled into a slow, confident smirk, the kind that made your pulse race.

“Missionary,” he repeated, the word almost incredulous. “That’s it?”

You shrugged, a mix of embarrassment and amusement bubbling in your chest.

Bradley leaned in closer, his lips brushing the shell of your ear as he spoke, his voice a low, teasing murmur. “Well, then... how about we find out together?”

Before you could respond, his lips captured yours again, and his hands began to explore, sliding over your sides and down to your thighs.

Bradley’s fingers moved to the hem of your shirt, his dark eyes flicking up to meet yours. “Is this okay?” he asked softly, his voice steady but laced with anticipation.

You nodded, swallowing hard. “Yeah.”

With deliberate care, he pulled your shirt over your head and tossed it aside, his hands brushing against your skin as he did. The warmth of his touch lingered, sending a shiver down your spine. His gaze didn’t waver as it roamed over you, and the look in his eyes made you feel more seen—and more desired—than you ever had before.

“You’re gorgeous,” he murmured, his voice reverent but with an edge of heat that made your cheeks flush. His hands moved to the waistband of your jeans next, his thumbs hooking into the fabric as he paused to look at you again. “Still okay?”

You nodded again, your voice catching in your throat.

He made quick work of the button and zipper, easing the denim down your legs and leaving you in nothing but your bra and underwear. He straightened, his gaze sweeping over you as you lay back against the pillows.

“God,” he breathed, shaking his head slightly. “You’re so beautiful. No... you’re sexy.”

The compliment hit you like a spark, and for a moment, you wondered why you had never let yourself see Bradley like this before. He wasn’t just your dependable, loyal friend. He was this—sweet, confident, and undeniably attractive.

He knelt back down, his hands gently trailing up your thighs as he leaned in. “You tell me if there’s anything you don’t like,” he reminded you, his voice soft but firm.

“I will,” you whispered, your heart pounding in your chest.

His lips found your neck again, pressing gentle, lingering kisses against your skin. Then you felt his teeth graze your neck—a new sensation, one that sent a jolt through you. Before you could process it, he bit down gently, and you gasped, the sound escaping you unbidden.

You felt his lips curve into a smile against your skin. “You like that?” he murmured, his voice low and teasing. “Do you want me to do it again? Do you want me to mark you?”

You nodded quickly, your breath hitching. “Yes. I want to be yours.”

The words barely left your lips before he leaned in again, his teeth sinking into your neck just enough to sting, followed by the soothing press of his mouth as he sucked on the tender skin. The sensation was unlike anything you’d felt before—electric, heady, and intimate. When he pulled away, you could feel the heat of his gaze as he admired the dark mark he’d left.

Bradley smirked, his hand brushing a strand of hair from your face as he leaned in to kiss you. “Can’t wait to see what you look like with those all over,” he whispered, his tone filled with a promise that made your pulse race.

You couldn’t help but smirk back at him, a boldness blooming in your chest. “Where else do you want to put one?”

His eyes darkened with a mix of mischief and intent, and his smirk widened. Without another word, he lowered his head, his lips trailing along your collarbones before dipping lower, stopping just above your breasts.

He paused for a moment, looking up at you as if to ask for permission. You gave him a small nod, and he bit down again, his mouth working to leave another mark, this time on the skin between your breasts.

The sensation sent another wave of heat coursing through you, and when he pulled back, his expression was pure satisfaction as he admired his work. 

“Perfect,” he murmured, his voice rough.

Bradley's hands slid up your sides, his thumbs grazing the edge of your bra. His eyes flicked up to meet yours, silently asking for permission. When you gave him a slight nod, he reached behind you with practiced ease, unhooking the clasp and gently sliding the straps down your shoulders.

The garment fell away, and for a moment, he just looked at you, his gaze filled with reverence and hunger that made your skin flush.

One of his hands moved to cup your breast, his palm warm against your skin as his fingers squeezed gently, exploring. The sensation was new, different, and surprisingly intoxicating. You couldn’t help the soft sigh that escaped your lips as he leaned down, his breath ghosting over your skin before his lips wrapped around one of your nipples.

The feeling sent a jolt of electricity through you. No one had ever paid much attention to your chest before; past partners had always been more focused elsewhere, making offhand comments about your body that left you feeling unbalanced. But this—Bradley’s touch, his mouth—was deliberate and consuming as if he couldn’t get enough of you.

Then you felt his teeth, a brief, unexpected pressure that made you gasp, your back arching as you unconsciously pushed your chest further into his mouth.

Bradley hummed against you, his lips curving into a smirk as he flicked his tongue over the sensitive skin to soothe it. 

“You like that,” he murmured, not as a question but a quiet declaration.

Your breath hitched, and you nodded, your voice too tangled in the haze of sensation to respond properly.

He didn’t wait for words. He pulled away, his lips leaving a trail of warmth as he shifted to your other breast. His hand replaced his mouth, rolling the sensitive bud between his fingers while his lips found their target. This time, he didn’t hesitate, biting down gently but firmly, drawing another involuntary gasp from you.

The sound made something flicker in his eyes—satisfaction, excitement, and a hint of possessiveness. His tongue swept over the spot he’d bitten, his mouth working with a combination of suction and teasing flicks that had your fingers digging into his shoulders.

Bradley pulled back slightly, his breath warm against your skin as he looked up at you. “I love hearing those sounds you make,” he said softly, his voice a rough whisper that sent a shiver through you. His hands slid down to rest on your waist again, grounding you as his lips brushed a gentle kiss against the curve of your breast. “I’ve got so much more I want to show you.”

Bradley’s eyes never left yours as he slowly made his way down your body, his lips brushing over your skin with a slow, deliberate pace. His hands were gentle but firm, guiding you closer to the edge of something new and thrilling. When he finally positioned himself between your legs, his gaze flickered up to meet yours once more.

He smiled, a look of both excitement and admiration in his eyes. “I can’t wait to hear the sounds you make when I do thi,” he said, his voice low and husky. The weight of his words settled heavily between you, making your heart race.

You swallowed, your breath hitching slightly as he traced his fingers along your thighs, his touch light and teasing. His lips followed, pressing a soft kiss to one thigh before moving to the other, a trail of warmth in his wake. Then, with a careful touch, he slid your panties down your legs and tossed them aside, leaving you feeling exposed, but strangely safe in his hands.

He looked at you, his eyes dark with desire, before lowering himself further. The air between you two was thick with anticipation. His hands gently caressed your hips, grounding you as his lips finally reached your center.

The moment his mouth made contact, your body jolted with the sensation, a sharp intake of breath escaping you as you arched into him, your hands gripping the sheets beneath you.

Bradley was slow, methodical, taking his time to explore and bring you closer to the edge. Every touch, every movement was carefully tuned to your reactions. He wasn’t just trying to make you feel good—he wanted to know what made you tick, to learn the rhythm of your body in a way no one else had before.

Bradley’s focus never wavered as he continued his work, taking his time to explore, making sure every movement was deliberate and sure. Each kiss, each touch, each gentle caress sent shivers through your body, and you couldn’t stop the quiet gasps that escaped your lips as you reacted to him.

He shifted slightly, and his movements grew more confident. His lips found that sweet spot, the one that made your breath catch, and when he applied a little more pressure, a moan slipped from you—louder than you’d intended, and unmistakably full of need.

You felt your cheeks flush with embarrassment, but then Bradley’s voice, low and full of approval, reached your ears.

“That’s it,” he murmured, his lips curling into a satisfied smile against your skin. “That’s exactly what I wanted to hear.” He repeated the motion, coaxing another breathy moan from you. The sound was so raw, so genuine, it made him groan in return.

You couldn’t hold back anymore, your body arching further into him as the sensations built. “Bradley…” you moaned, almost too loudly, your eyes squeezing shut as a wave of heat coursed through you.

He growled in approval, the sound so deep that it sent a rush of excitement through your veins. “You sound so good, baby. Keep letting me know how you’re feeling.”

Your hands found their way into his hair, fingers threading through it, gripping him closer. The intensity in his gaze grew, and the way he praised you made you feel both empowered and desired in a way you’d never experienced before. You felt your body reacting to him, to his touch, to the way he made you feel so seen, so good.

Every movement he made, every sound you gave him, only fueled the connection between you two. This wasn’t just physical—it was raw, emotional, a dance of vulnerability and trust. And Bradley loved hearing you like this, loved knowing he was the one who could make you feel this way.

Every touch, every flick of his tongue, every deliberate movement made your entire body hum with need. You felt yourself coming undone, the sensations overwhelming as your breath hitched and your body responded to him.

Then, with one final, deliberate motion, Bradley pushed you over the edge. Your back arched as the release washed over you, your body trembling in waves of pleasure. A gasp escaped your lips, followed by a low moan, as the intensity of the moment left you breathless, unable to form words. It was the first time a guy had made you finish just with his mouth and hands, and it left you gasping, completely undone.

Bradley’s lips curled into a satisfied smile as he crawled back up the bed, his hands gently brushing the hair away from your face. His eyes were soft with affection, his gaze intense as he looked down at you, making sure you were okay. 

“You alright?” he asked, his voice hushed, a mix of concern and pride.

You nodded, still panting slightly, the aftermath of the orgasm leaving you weak but content. 

“Yeah,” you breathed, your voice unsteady. “I’m… I’ve never felt anything like that before.”

Bradley chuckled softly, his thumb brushing over your cheek as he leaned down to kiss you gently, a tender contrast to the intensity of the moments before. “I’m glad I could give that to you,” he said, his voice warm and full of sincerity.

You smiled up at him, feeling a mix of vulnerability and comfort, knowing that this moment was something you’d never forget. His presence, the way he made you feel, was unlike anything you’d ever experienced before.

Bradley settled beside you, keeping you close, his hand resting on your waist as he held you. Bradley’s hand gently traced patterns on your skin as he settled next to you, a teasing smile tugging at his lips. 

“So, what do you want to try next?” he asked, his voice low, a mix of curiosity and amusement.

You blinked up at him, feeling a newfound boldness. Without missing a beat, you shot him a playful smirk. “I want to ride you.”

The words hung in the air for a moment before Bradley’s eyes darkened, his breath hitching at the unexpectedness of your response. A grin spread across his face, his hands moving quickly as he pulled you on top of him, your bodies aligning with a hunger that was only growing. 

“Damn, baby,” he groaned, the thought of you in control sending heat shooting through his veins. 

You both shared a laugh, the playful tension still crackling in the air, before the moment turned more serious again. But this time, there was no question—the night was only just beginning.

[cvnntagious]

:: virgin!chris only wants you to touch him

chris was quick to slide his pants off for you as soon as his brothers had left for the store, both his mom and dad at work. the two of you were completely alone, chris' face reddened at how embarrassingly hard he was in his boxers. "what d'you want, chris?" you asked softly, hand sliding up his shirt to caress his toned abdomen.

he caught your hand in his tender grasp, pulling it down from his shirt as he looked at you beside him. there was a surprising innocence in his eyes for someone who was aching so intensely for you. "touch me," he replied softly, running your hand over his bulge.

"anything else?"

he shook his head, a few of his brown curls falling in front of his eyes with it. "not yet— no," he answered, eyes searching yours for disappointment. "if that's okay..."

you weren't disappointed, though. you were perfectly content with allowing him to ease up into being comfortable in such a vulnerable state with you. for now, you were just happy to be making him feel good.

his breath hitched when you shoved your hand in his boxers, feeling the warmth of it taking ahold of his length. head instantly throwing back when your thumb brushed over his leaking tip, he shivered at your touch. he was so sensitive—you liked it.

maybe it was the intense reaction from such soft touches, or the small pants escaping his parted, pouty lips, but you couldn't help that sense of pride from washing over you. it urged you to make him feel good; better than he already did, really.

you freed his length from the confines of his boxers, taking a good look at it in all its glory. the slight pause made chris want to tell you to stop so he could cover himself up, probably even kick you out and act like nothing ever happened - like you didn't see his dick. he didn't though. as much as he wanted to, he wanted you more. needed you.

when your hand finally started pumping his length, completely unaware of all the anxious thoughts running through chris' mind, they all dissipated immediately. all he could think about now was how good your soft hands felt, body tensing when you made eye contact with him.

his heart started pounding when you opened your mouth slightly, allowing the saliva you'd collected in your mouth to slowly drip onto his already wet cockhead. "a- oh fuck," he breathed, body tensing at the warm fluid being spread and stroked up and down his length.

the pleasure he felt was palpable, and he found his movements becoming more and more involuntary with each slow glide of your hand up and down his length. the agony was almost unbearable, feeling his high so out of reach. "please," he began, hips now starting to jerk up for friction he wasn't able to get with your languid movements.

you smiled at him, causing him to shift uncomfortably under your gaze. "faster, hm?" you asked, picking up the pace with each stroke.

chris nodded, lips pursing as sweet hums of pleasure filled his room. "need- need to... fuck, gonna cum," he warned, abdomen flexing and legs tensing as he moaned louder than intended.

when he felt your soft thumb brush over his now aggravated tip, it sent him over the edge. his head flew back, mouth making an 'o' shape as he fucked your hand, orgasm crashing over him. groans escaped his lips, and he felt his face flush red with embarrassment, allowing you to milk him dry of his sticky fluids.

his head lifted again as soon as your strokes on his length slowed, gaining the courage to look at your cocky grin again. that was, until he was met with your tongue hoovering over his cum-covered cockhead. it practically begged you to leave it alone, judging by the way it was almost red in color under all his white semen.

"wha-" he started, only to be cut off by his body spasming when your tongue met his sensitive tip, a long whine following it.

w/c : ?? a/n : gonna be taking a small break from writing soon, but i'll still answer asks, so send em on in. divider by issysh3ll

[genderqueerdykes]

I saw the thing about sharps containers and let me be the one to say: A lot of things we consume on a daily basis, when properly sealed and marked, can be a sharps container! I use jugs of water (need distilled water for my CPAP) that I've emptied, bc they're rather tough. You have to clearly mark that they are a sharps container, with sharpies, and tape the top lid closed. You can also use aluminum cans, soda bottles, and other jugs (think lemonade, Kool-Aid, Sunny-D, etc!) again you just have to tape the top shut with duct tape preferably and sharpie it to death with a warning!

hey thank you so much for sending this ask, you reminded me that i got a handout about this at my local library! thank you for your input, i'll add that info to complement yours. keep in mind, this is written from the perspective of helping homeless people dispose of sharps, but anyone can benefit from this:

[Image ID: A photograph of a small horizontally oriented card detailing how to safely dispose of needles. It reads:

DISPOSING OF NEEDLES

Use gloves or thick material to pick up needle.

Place needle inside an empty container (thicker plastic is better, but is not always an option)

Seal the container- with tape if possible as an extra precaution.

Write "biohazard" on the container with a market (I recommend carrying a sharpie along with your Naloxone kit).

dispose of the container in the trash, or call the fire dept or local needle exchange program, if you want someone else to dispose of it.

There are two graphics displaying what types of containers to use are preferable.

The graphic on the left shows a milk jug and a small handheld personal disposable water bottle with a thumbs down graphic. The graphic is attempting to convey that any plastic containers with very thin walls should be avoided.

The graphic on the right shows a thumbs up next to kitty litter, laundry detergent and shampoo bottles, attempting to convey that plastic containers with thicker more durable walls should be chosen if possible.

End image ID.]

this goes to anyone who uses needles for whatever reason, HRT, insulin, substance use, whatever it may be, having sharps containers is important. and i agree mark the container clearly that it is a biohazard and a sharps container. "SHARPS" does the trick. hope this can be of help to some people!

[bucketbueckers]

accounting - azzi fudd

pairing: azzi fudd x fem!reader (no use of y/n) wc: 2.8k synopsis: you're watching kk and the rest of the team fool around on live when azzi fudd walks in asking for an accounting tutor. deciding to humor it, you're surprised to find that azzi was completely serious, and even more surprised when your offer leads to something more between the two of you. notes: in honor of azzi fudd hoops last night - i was supposed to have this up before the game but i forgot i had a three hour lab and unfortunately i will not write fanfiction in the middle of the university food court. first tumblr post, lmk if we're rockin w it 🙂‍↕️

You’re settling into bed to unwind for the night when you get the TikTok notification.

KK Arnold has gone live!

For the better part of your day, you’ve had your nose in the books, trying to get ahead of your weekly homework. You have a terrible habit of letting most of it pile up during the week and finishing it all over the weekend. As an accounting major, you didn’t really have fun weekend plans, anyway, but it would be nice to lay in bed all day and not worry about something that was due at 11:59. You only had three classes today: managerial accounting, intro to auditing, and intermediate accounting. It wasn’t a rigorous schedule by any means; you were done and out of classes by lunchtime, but after two and a half hours of listening to your professors drone on, you were ready for the nap you couldn’t afford to take due to your piles of homework. 

Seeing the live notification is enough to remind you that you aren’t really that tired, so you click on it. KK’s face fills the screen and she’s unboxing Crumbl cookies. You say a silent prayer for the girls – Crumbl tasted terrible and that was a hill you were willing to die on. Paige sat behind KK, with Ayanna, Jana, Kayla, and a few other players milling about off-camera. For a painful few minutes, KK tries her best to get everyone’s attention so she can narrate about whatever monstrosity of a cookie they’re eating, but everyone’s laughing too hard to fully lock in.

Ayanna leaves to get a knife so KK can cut the cookies evenly. KK entertains the live while Ayanna is away, singing, chatting, and interacting with commenters. When Ayanna finally returns, she has the knife, but Azzi also trails behind her - a fact that the live is definitely appreciative of. “Oh, my God, look who it is!” KK intones in a shrill voice, much to Azzi’s clear bewilderment. You’ve never seen an expression of such confusion on someone’s face before. “It’s Azzi Fudd!”

Azzi buries her face in her hands and moves off-camera as everyone laughs. KK’s voice softens as she asks, “Azzi, wanna try a cookie?”

“No,” Azzi whines.

KK’s entire expression shifts, and admittedly, yours does, too. It’s no secret that Azzi was almost nationally known as the people’s princess. Perhaps you’d have to fight someone. You hope that no one’s actually done something wrong to her – first of all, you can’t even fathom the idea. It’d be like kicking a puppy. Second of all, you were just someone, along with 13,000 other viewers, watching the team interact behind a screen. You were sure that Azzi’s team would handle business, although you were willing to step in if needed, too, even if you stood a solid six inches shorter than Azzi herself. “What happened?” KK asks. Paige echoes her question.

“Ask the live if anyone can tutor me in accounting,” Azzi says forlornly.

You don’t think she’s serious until KK turns back just in time for the cowboy hat to return. “Hey, y’all! Is there anybody who’s really good at accounting for Azzi Fudd? Please send help. If you do have someone who’s really good at accounting, please DM me at k2times TikTok or at kamoreaarnold Instagram or at azzifudd Instagram! Thank yew.” The room dissolves into giggles as KK continues, “And if you DM me with edits or anything else but accounting help, I will block! Thank yew.”

You have the time today, so you switch over to Instagram as the live continues in the background, and you go to Azzi’s page and hit the Message option. You doubt she’ll see it, let alone respond, but as an accounting major, it’s basically your civic duty to help those in need, especially since you know these classes are hell.

hey do u actually need accounting help? i major in it!

Satisfied, you click back over to the live just in time for Azzi to comment, “KK, I might actually have a tutor,” she says in near disbelief. You think nothing of it as KK turns her head, humming at Azzi. “Wait, I think she’s in my class.”

That manages to catch your attention. Sure, you’re watching a live with a couple thousand people on it, but how many of those people are accounting students at UConn who happen to share a class with Azzi Fudd?

An Instagram notification pops up on your screen as Paige leaves the camera frame to most likely peer over Azzi’s shoulder. You’re shocked again to see Azzi has DM’ed you back.

Yes please this homework is killing me Are you in ACCT3201 with Cansler??? I recognize you

Discovering just how unobservant you are should not come as a great surprise. Apparently, you’ve been sharing a class with Azzi Fudd this entire semester and you didn’t even realize it. This is easily the most embarrassing moment of your entire life.

i am i can’t believe i didn’t know u were in it i’m a lot better at accounting than i am at paying attention, i promise

This draws a giggle from Azzi that you can hear over the live. It makes a flush rise on your cheeks. The fact that Azzi Fudd knows who you are combined with the fact she’s laughing at your jokes is enough for a feeling of anticipation to twist in your chest. This is your life now, apparently.

“Azzi is cheesing so bad,” KK teases. You can’t help but feel a little pride at that. “Who’s chatting her up right now? Lemme invite you. Accounting rizz is insane work.”

“Don’t scare away my tutor,” Azzi grumbles, coming back into view of the camera. True to KK’s words, a faint blush has settled on her cheeks. Feeling far too smug, you comment on the live, ‘calling it rizz is crazy, i’m just helping the people.’ Azzi’s eyes scan the screen before rolling slightly. “Look at what you did, KK.”

“Is that her?” KK shrieks. She leans in closer to the screen, blocking out much of the background. “Oh, she fine. Lock in, Azzi; she can help you with more than accounting.”

At that, you and Azzi both blush a deep scarlet red and Azzi turns on her heel. “Goodbye, KK!” The room dissolves into rambunctious laughter as Azzi walks out, calling, “I’m going to finish my homework!”

A moment passes before Azzi messages you again.

I’m so sorry about KK, she’s feral

You swipe away from the live again, grinning slightly. In your DMs, the typing bubbles appear for a few short moment. You heart her most recent message in the meantime.

Will you please help me? I genuinely don’t understand what I’m doing wrong

Yes, you’ve spent most of the day in classes and doing homework. Yes, you’re tired. Yes, you really only joined the live to unwind. But when Azzi asks for help, you can’t really say no to her.

of course, are u working on this week’s homework set?

Her affirmative response is swift, telling you what she’s having trouble with. Your fingers hesitate on your screen, trying to figure out how to put your thoughts into words before settling.

i know this is incredibly forward but would u want to ft? i can explain better verbally

Azzi sends you her number. After tonight’s events, you really shouldn’t be surprised anymore, but you can’t help it. Azzi is a nationally (and internationally) recognized college basketball player and, until now, you were just a girl who watched her team’s TikTok lives and cheered in the student section. Azzi had seemed so untouchable, by virtue of her celebrity and your lack thereof; it’s hard to believe you’re this close to her now, even if it’s just to help her with accounting homework.

The two of you talk well into the night, even hours after Azzi submits her problem sets successfully and she understands the material. You feel like you get to see a side of her so rarely seen by other people who aren’t her teammates. She’s softer, with a beaming smile on her face when she finally understands a difficult concept. There’s something so alluring about the way she speaks that you can’t help but listen to every single thing that comes out of her mouth, ranging from her frustrated rants to the smoothness of her giggle. The lamplight reflects off of the lenses of the glasses perched on her nose and you think she’s so incredibly beautiful – bare-faced and slightly delirious from staying up so late.

When the two of you finally hang up half past three, you can’t wipe the smile off your face, and somehow, you just know that this is the start of something new.

From then on, your friendship with Azzi all but flourishes. She’s incredibly sweet, soft-spoken, and so deliberate in the way she moves and speaks to you. When your next accounting class rolls around, she finds the seat next to yours, asking to sit there with an almost shy expression. When there’s lulls in the lecture, you entertain her with jokes, drawing red-cheeked giggles that she has to stifle. You’re almost like her personal TA, sitting next to her and clarifying concepts that she doesn’t understand. It helps you, too; the best study advice you’d ever received was to teach it to someone else. 

Your friendship progresses outside of the lecture room and outside of your texts. You both spend a lot of time in the library, studying in peace together or enjoying lunch in each other's company. You always thought Azzi was gorgeous, but now that you know her on a far more personal level, falling for her was a near guarantee. The far-away admiration transformed into something pure, genuine. You couldn’t imagine Azzi returning those feelings — she’s far too busy, too committed to ball — so you keep your rapidly growing crush close to your chest. 

You’ve always showed up to the UConn games, though there’s something distinctly different about them now. Azzi was never one for grand celebrations or trash talk in the way Paige was. She was intentional and lowkey, which is why you feel like you could float when she makes direct eye contact with you in the student section, throwing up three fingers to celebrate a particularly deep three. It’s why you cheese when she finds you after the game, after she’s showered and changed, and asks if you want to get ice cream with her. The better question was how could you refuse?

Azzi deliberates between vanilla and cookie dough for a long while before settling on the latter. Even as the clerk fills her bowl, she stares at the the vanilla and your choice of ice cream becomes obvious. Azzi stares at you as the clerk fills your bowl with vanilla. “What? It’s my favorite flavor,” you lie, and her lips quirk up as she studies you. 

“Said literally no one ever,” she says wryly. The clerk hands you the bowl and Azzi swipes her card before you have the chance to even contemplate otherwise. When you stare at her in disbelief, her smile widens and all fight leaves your body. What were you supposed to do about that? You were a puddle for pretty women — a puddle for Azzi, honestly — and your resolve should be commended for maintaining months of friendship with Azzi. 

The two of you find a secluded booth towards the back of the ice cream shop. Azzi shares her midterm grade — a solid 100, and you whistle lowly. “I got an 89,” you say, not hurt by it at all. As long as it was above an 80, you could care less. “You sure you still need me?”

Azzi swirls her ice cream around her bowl, suddenly quiet. The realization dawns on you immediately. Your words were meant to be a joke, but the truth to them stuns you. You really hoped Azzi would say, ‘of course not, it’s not like that!’ but her silence keeps you guessing. 

“I have a confession to make,” she says after a beat, finally glancing up at you. The vulnerability and nervousness makes your heart fall out of your ass. “Promise it won’t make anything weird?”

You open your mouth just to close it again. You clear your throat. “Promise, Az,” you say finally. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing!” she says quickly. “Um, so here’s the thing. I struggled a lot with the first problem set. You know, the one I needed the tutor for?” You nod, confused by her words. “You helped a lot. And, like, I haven’t really needed actual tutoring in weeks. I just really liked spending time with you.” You blink at her. She stares at you right back, brows furrowed with guilt and her doe eyes wide. “I’m sorry. You must feel like I wasted your time.”

At that, you can’t help but laugh, and Azzi pouts. “Az. I thought you were about to dump me,” you explain. “Plus, I kinda figured after a while we were just like, studying together, and not me actually tutoring.”

She sighs, burying her face in her hands. You laugh again, pushing your leftover ice cream towards her. Azzi glances up again, her eyes soft and fond. “I guess I just wanted an excuse for you to stick around.”

“You never needed one,” you tell her honestly, and a blush creeps up her neck. 

“You’re not really picking up what I’m putting down, are you?”

Her words almost make you recoil. It’s no secret at this point that you can be a little oblivious, but her words make your heart skip a beat. “Az, I have no idea what you’re putting down,” you admit.

“So, I just admitted to you that I liked spending time with you and lied about needing study help just so I’d have an excuse to hang out with you,” Azzi confirms. “We are sitting here, alone, after a game while my teammates celebrate at Ted’s. All of that, and you have no idea what I’m putting down?”

The realization hits you like a ton of bricks. “Oh,” you say smartly. 

“Yeah.”

“So, you like me?” you ask just to be one hundred percent sure. 

She smiles at you. You’re certain your heart almost stops beating. “How could I not?” she asks like it’s the easiest thing in the world. “You make me laugh. You’re always so patient with me, you make me feel seen — like I can just be myself. It’s… hard to find something genuine like this. You don’t expect anything from me.”

“I just want you to be happy,” you say simply. 

Her eyes confirm everything for you. You’re not observant, sure, but your main priority has always been what was directly in front of you. And right now, it’s hard to focus on anything that’s not Azzi. Azzi’s eyes are so soft, kinder than anything you’ve ever seen before. They hold so much understanding but there’s also a silent plea of let this be mutual that you’re too happy to give into. 

“I’ve been falling for you for a while,” you admit, and her face brightens. Your shoulders feel lighter; carrying around your feelings has burdened you, but if it’s the price you had to pay to make sure Azzi felt comfortable and that she could have friendships without people taking advantage of her celebrity, then so be it. You’d bear a lot more for her if it ever came down to it. “I kept it to myself for a while,” you continued. “You deserve normal. A friendship without expectations. But, God, Az, how could anyone not fall for you?”

Azzi’s cheeks flush a pretty red. You can’t help but smile at her, growing a little braver, and you slide your hand across the table. She wastes no time before intertwining your fingers together, giving your hand a gentle squeeze. 

She walks you home that night, refusing to let go of you until you’re halfway through your doorstep. She stops you; her height would be intimidating if you didn’t know she was the sweetest person to ever walk the earth. “Can I…” She trails off, her hands gentle on your waist. 

You don’t need much more convincing — you loop your arms around her neck and tug her down to your height, planting your lips on hers with a softness that she eagerly reciprocates. You can taste the vanilla on her lips, the sweetness of the cookie dough, and the promise of something distinctly reminiscent of Azzi Fudd. You’re suddenly thankful for KK’s stupid live, for Crumbl cookie, for the accounting class you shared together. It’s all led you to where you are now, in Azzi’s arms outside of your apartment, overcome with the knowledge that all of this is so new, but you have everything you could have possibly wanted.

(You ask her to officially be your girlfriend two weeks after that, having been on three dates since — it’s only after you pop the question and the two of you are settling in to watch a movie that she admits to you the real reason she was struggling so bad with the problem sets was because she’d spend entire lecture periods staring at you. You roll your eyes, feeling inexplicably cared for in a way you haven’t experienced before Azzi, and your only true response to her confession is the lingering kiss you place on her lips.)

[darlingletters]

moth to flame lh44

lewis hamilton x fem!reader

in which y/n y/l/n has a new boyfriend and lewis hamilton can’t help but want to remind her how he knows her better.

warnings: cheating, kissing, intimate touching (like cheek touching and stuff), allusions to the devil’s tango, lemme know if there’s any that I missed please.

an: so I haven’t posted in a while but I am back!! hope everyone is doing well. this is my first time writing something like this so if anyone has any tips on how to make it better please let me know. also sorry for any bad grammar/spelling.

should I make a part 2?

anyway this is based on the song moth to flame by the weeknd & swedish house mafia!! absolutely love this song and honestly I was listening to it the other day and got the idea to write to this. I don’t know if anyone else has done, but if so lemme know.

driver list navigation

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it was 3:45 in the morning.

y/n was supposed be asleep but instead she was wide awake sitting on the sofa on the phone talking to her ex boyfriend whilst her current one slept in the next room.

“come y/n/n, you don’t wanna be with this guy. he doesn’t know you like I do baby.” lewis’ voice almost pleads as he talks.

“this needs to stop. I’ve moved on. you should have too.” she says simply, picking at the blanket that covered her.

“please baby-”

“you have to stop calling me that.” she cuts him off “I ain’t your baby anymore. I stopped being that a long time ago.”

“y/n, he doesn’t know what you need. doesn’t know what to give you. I do.” his pleading continues.

she stays silent. she doesn’t even know how to respond to that. it was true. her boyfriend hadn’t been able to please her in the two years they’d been together. and although she’d never admit it out loud, it was driving her insane.

“I bet he even knows he can’t please you because he knows he can never give you what I gave you.” he says smugly. “because he knows, he can never be better than me.”

“arrogance doesn’t suit you.” she mutters loud enough for him to hear.

“I am not being arrogant. I am being honest.” he responds quickly.

“what do you want from me lewis?” she asks slightly frustrated.

“you. I want you. I want you to admit you want me too.” he states like it’s obvious

“I don’t want you.” lies. but he didn’t need to know that.

“just come cover.” he says simply.

“I can’t.” she whispers.

“why? cause your with him?” he says annoyed, “just leave now. you’ll be back in the morning. I just need to see you baby.” he pleads.

“lewis-”

“come on y/n. just lemme be near you. touch you. that’s all i need.” lewis says almost desperately, hints of desire in his words.

“one hour. I’ll come to you.” she says after a moment of silence.

although she should of felt guilty or even hesitated to answer, she didn’t. she wanted to see lewis. needed to see him. lewis was her first love, probably the only man she would ever truly love.

“I’ll send you the address.” he says, his voice completely lustful as he ends the call and sends the address of a hotel.

- 20 minutes later -

she knocks on his door. her mind filled with guilt and hesitation as she waited for the door to open. however, once the door opened and she caught sight of lewis, those thoughts had quietened.

“lewis.” she says breathily.

in response, lewis smirks and makes space for her to enter.

“you said you wanted to see me, you’ve seen me.” she whispers as she enters the room.

“I also said I wanted to touch you and I haven’t done that yet.” he flirts as he shuts the door and locks it.

“lewis-” she mutters as she closes her eyes.

“come on baby, just let me touch you.” he responds, taking off her jacket as he stands behind her.

“I have a boyfriend.” she says firmly, not turning to face him.

“then why are here? hm?” he whispers in her ear as he stays behind her.

“I- I don’t know.” she mutters.

“you still want me.” he responds as she shakes her head. “yes you do, you still love me y/n. I know you do baby, don’t deny it.” he says turning her around to face him only to see her eyes closed.

they stay in silence for a few moments as lewis looks at her, assessing every detail on her face. memorising her features like he used to when they once shared a bed.

“open your eyes.” he says softly. “lemme see those gorgeous eyes I’ve missed to much.” he speaks again stroking her cheek.

she takes a deep breath as she keeps her eyes closed, determined not to fall for him all over again.

“come on baby, just look at me.” he whispers, brushing his lips against her cheek. “just need you to look at me again.” he repeats, kissing her cheek.

“lewis-” she starts but was quickly interrupted when she felt a kiss on her jaw forcing her to open her eyes.

the sight before her made her wish she had never answered his phone call.

there he was cradling her face like she was a precious piece of art as he looked down at her with pure affection and warmth at finally seeing her looking at him.

“there we go baby, there’s those pretty eyes.” he whispers as he rubs his thumb on her cheek. “god i missed you.” he mutters as he leans his forehead against hers.

“I shouldn’t be doing this.” she mumbles as she shakes her head, pulling away from him and forming distance making his smile drop while he reaches out for her.

“leave that guy. come back to me.” he states firmly, his expression almost desperate.

“we are toxic lewis. we fought all the time, we barely saw each other expect to use each other in bed.” she argues back, putting her hands on her hips.

“it’s been three years y/n. we’ve changed. I’ve changed. that guy doesn’t deserve you.” he says simply taking a step forward towards her which makes her step back.

“and you think you deserve me?” she scoffs.

“no I don’t deserve you. no one fucking deserves you y/n/n. but I love you. more then that guy can.” he takes a step forward. she takes a step back. “I care for you more then him.” step forward. step back. “I touch you better then he does.” he whispers, taking a final step forward until she’s pressed up against the wall. “and you and I both know i can please you better then he does.” he finishes looking at her as she leans back against the wall looking up at him with wide eyes as she breaths heavily.

“lew-” she mumbles out as licks her lips and looks at his lips before quickly looking at his eyes.

“let me kiss you.” he whispers as he leans his head forward and places his hand on her cheek. “please baby let me kiss you.” he pleads, their lips inches away.

she pauses as she keeps her arms planted to her side as she looks at him trying to pull away from him. she looks away from his eyes and back to lips.

“fuck it.” she mutters as she runs her fingers though his hair and kisses him making him immediately return it with a soft groan.

he moves his hands into her hair, “god I missed you.” he says against her lips before going straight back to kissing her.

however, as they kissed, she couldn’t help but feel a sense of regret wash over her as she thought back to her boyfriend peacefully sleeping in their bed whilst she made out with her ex boyfriend.

────────────────────────────

[star2fishmeg]

I know you said you want to write more inexperienced reader x luke but what about more experienced reader x sub Luke??? 🧎🏼‍♀️🙏🏼

Luke didn't think his evening could get any better after not only scoring a goal, but the Devils winning the game entirely. As soon as his bedroom door locked, his blazer was on the back of his chair and he was sat on his bed with your hands unbuckling his belt and shimmying his trousers down until he freaked out clasped your hands in his, eyes wide. His confession had been surprising, but you didn't laugh at him like he had thought, you smiled and reassured him that you wouldn't do anything he didn't want to.

"Lu? It's okay if you're not feeling it." Your voice like a song to his ears, only making the straining in his boxers more painful.

"It's n...not that," he'd stammered, "Um...I just...I've never been given head...before...and, oh shit, so this is like, the first time,"

"That's fine, there's nothing to be worried about, it's like a handjob with my mouth. But I won't if you're not comfortable and I'll stop if-"

"-No! Please, I want it, please...please and you said you'd reward me,"

Now his chests heavy, dipping and rising as hot air puffs from his mouth into his room, long, breathy whimpers shamelessly slipping past his lips with his head tilted back. His palm rests gently on your head, no pressure, not even trying to guide you in any way but he just wants to ground himself from your eager bobbing, your lips around his throbbing cock gliding along his length and challenging yourself to take him until his base. He squirms a little every time you swirl your tongue around him, moans vibrating against the nerves that send consuming shockwaves through his body and coaxes a sultry sob from him.

"Fuck, y/n, fuck!" his whines staggering, curls drenched in sweat and sticking to his forehead as he squeezes his eyes shut when you pump him at his base, "Feels so good, need your mouth all the time, angel."

Your free hand caressing along his thigh, feeling him tense underneath you, his mewling dizzying and you hollow your cheeks, wishing you could smile at the way he's desperately trying to buck up into your mouth. Your pussy pulses, heat pooling into your panties again and you're sure they're soaked and sticking to you by now. You can't help that; how can you contain yourself when your boy's wailing like a slut because of you and it's even better than you imagined. Nothing's better than a man's voice straining because he's filled with so much exhilarating pleasure that he's unconsciously rutting into your mouth to bring him closer to fulfilling your fantasy of spilling ropes of cum over your tastebuds for you to savour.

"Please, baby, please, more, please," he groans pathetically, unsure if he's really pleading for the electricity to spark over him again or to cum, either way his abs are clenched and his lower stomach is burning, tight like it could snap. "Fuck, baby, suck me off anytime you want, please, I'll be so fucking good,"

With fervent desire to hear such a big man crumble beneath you, his head jolts forward to watch you swallow him until his tip's hitting the back of your throat and his eyes roll to the back of his head. Luke feels like he's had an angel sent down to him, he can't begin to describe the heat that claws at his skin when even your throat can take his size. Winning hockey was cool but nothing in compared to being rewarded with sloppy head from his girlfriend, that was a win no one else could have.

[sonicfanthenightfury5099]

Hello hello!

If it’s not too much to ask, may I please request some fluff/comfort reactions with Thomas, RZ Michael, bubba and whoever else you wanna add?

It would be about the reader going Into their room and ask the boys if they can spend the night with them because they experience real bad panic attacks at night. It sometimes get so bad that the reader fears that they will lose oxygen as they panic. (As someone who experience those regularly, it’s terrifying, so having our favourite big boy’s comfort would be great)

That’s pretty much it! :) hope this is okay❤️ thank you so much if you do get to this request, I love your writing so much!

As someone who also had panic attacks in High School I can see some of the boys spending the night with Reader.

Sorry this took so long to write this, I tried to figure out what write. I juggle alot in my head example I'm currently working on a rough draft of my future Webcomic

Enjoy this

Slashers Spending the night with You

Summary: You ask your boyfriend to send the night so they don't go through a really bad panic attack during the night.

Characters: Michael Myers (OG, RZ, and Peepaw), Jason Voorhees, Thomas Hewitt, Bubba Saywer, Brahms Heelshire, and The Sinclairs Brothers

CW: Cuteness from the boys

Michael Myers RZ

When you ask him if he can stay home for the night, he gave you one his head tilts

He would usually go out and you stay home, but trying to sleep is hard

You tell him you get really bad Panic attacks at night, which have you scared of not be able to breathe

Alright I'll stay for the night

He seeing people having Panic attacks at Smith's Grove, especially one passing out from a attack

Wrapped in blanket and something warm to drink

A old monster movie playing on the TV as he puts his arm around your waist

Thomas Hewitt

Automatic Mama bear mode when you tell him you get really bad Panic attacks at night and have a fear of losing Oxygen as they panic

You can hold on to him like a teddy bear

Back rubs

You'll be falling asleep with him holding you close

Vincent Sinclair

Like Thomas, Mama Bear mode active

Warm blankets wrapped around the both of you in his bedroom

Candles lit to make it comfortable for you

Bo better not cause you to have an Attack

Brahms Heelshire

Before he showed himself has seen you have attacks at night (Brahms being Brahms) holding on to the doll

He eventually showed himself when you have a really bad episode

One extremely confused about a guy just came into your room, and Two who is he? Is it Brahms? You where told he died a long time ago

"Brahms?" You asked, he nodding as his reply

"Could you stay with me tonight? I need some comfort." You ask. "Yes." He replied in his child voice

He's holding on till the sun comes up

Michael Myers OG

Much like RZ Michael, your going to get one of his famous head tilts

Michael would just leave you home and when he gets back your still awake waiting for him

So that's why you stay up waiting for me, when you explain him about your Panic attacks at night

Guess he'll wait another night to hunt

He has became your weighted plushie in bed

He fell asleep afterwards

Bo Sinclair

Don't we sleep in the Same bed darlin?

He was going to check the gas station for a bit

"Is that why you have trouble sleeping?"

How about this, you can wear one of my shirts, I'll go down to the station and we can do anything you want

He comesback and your making popcorn while wearing his grey tee on

Watching a Documentary on the TV on Penguins

You fell asleep after that and he carry you to bed

Bubba Saywer

Relatable

Blanket Fort in the bedroom with some snacks

Watching a rerun on the TV in the bedroom

I recently watched the original Texas Chainsaw Massacre on the anniversary day

Lester Sinclair

"Oh my they get that bad?" He said when you told him about your really bad night Panic attacks

He normally doesn't go out at night but sometimes his brother ask him to come to the gas station to help out it

But tonight he can say in and listen to the radio

Snacking on jerky till you fell asleep

Jason Voorhees

Oh you poor bean

Much like Thomas and Vincent, Mama Bear Mode active

Warm blankets and warm drinks while having a Fire lit in the cabin

Eventually falling asleep next to the fire

Peepaw Michael Myers

Old man Head tilt

"Please stay in tonight Michael, I dont want to be alone tonight." You said to him

Putting on a old cheese romance movie to ease your nerves

He gags at some of the parts which makes you giggle

His turn, an old monster movie The Fly from 1958

He rubs your back while started to fall asleep

He carried you to the shared bedroom to sleep cause he started to get sleeply too

[suddencolds]

of painkillers and lenience

...hello! 😭 I wrote this way back in April; it's been sitting in my drafts ever since. Chronologically, it takes place shortly following Atypical Occurrence.

I wasn't sure if I was ever going to post this. I suppose it's more a character study than a proper romantic installment :') but it's an exchange I'd been wanting to write for a long time.

you can find everything I've written in this universe here!

—

Summary: Yves comes down with something. His best friend wonders where Vincent is, in all of this.

—

Perhaps it’s merciful that it’s on a Sunday that Yves wakes up with the slightest tickle in his throat.

Yves has an idea what it means. He’s had the flu enough times in his life to know that it comes on quickly. Maybe if he attempts to sleep it off, he’ll have a better time over the next few days.

Or maybe not. He cancels his Sunday plans, goes through his itinerary. There’s a slew of emails he’ll have to send off, a handful of meetings he’ll probably have to reschedule for this coming work week. He’ll need groceries, too, to last him the week—ideally something that won’t take too much effort to make. Resting now seems like it’d be a waste of time. Best to get everything over with before the illness has a chance to properly settle, he thinks. 

He really does mean to stop by the grocery store. It’s perhaps just the timing that doesn’t work out as planned. Between figuring out how to reschedule everything that’s coming up with work—figuring out who he can ask if he needs to reallocate any of his assignments to anyone else, rearranging things for clients, and getting all the paperwork in order—all of it takes him nearly two hours. He wanders into the kitchen to make himself a cup of tea, finds himself having to turn aside to cough, notes the unpleasant sting in his throat when he turns back around. 

It’s not terrible yet, but he feels distinctly off. His head feels a little heavy, and everything he does feels strangely—sluggish, maybe. Like he can’t quite manage to be as efficient as usual. Judging by past experience, he’s probably going to crash in a few hours.

He can already feel a headache brewing. Staring at his computer screen probably hasn’t helped with that. If he takes something for it, it’ll probably be at least tolerable when it gets worse.

He opens the medicine cabinet, rifles through the couple bottles and the first aid kit he has stashed in there.

Right. He’s out of Advil.

It’s no matter. Just a quick grocery trip, then—he can grab the rest of his groceries while he’s at it. Yves shuts the bathroom cabinet, grabs his wallet and keys, and makes it all the way to the doorstep outside when the wave of dizziness hits him.

All of a sudden, he feels a little lightheaded. Heat crawls up under his skin, prickling and unpleasant, as if something in him has cranked up the heat generation to the max—but that can’t be right, because he’s shivering inexplicably in the wake of it. He leans his weight back against the wall, squeezes his eyes shut.

Fuck. He probably should have gotten groceries first, before sorting out everything for work. Perhaps going out on his own now would not be the wisest.

He heads back in, locks the door, and—after some thought—calls Mikhail.

Mikhail picks up on the second ring. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Are you busy?” Yves starts, but the words catch on his throat, and he has to stop immediately to muffle a cough into his elbow. 

There’s a moment of silence on the other end. “It depends what you’re about to ask me for,” Mikhail says.

Yves swallows. Shuts his eyes. He doesn’t like asking for help, but he doesn’t think he’ll be in any state to be doing this on his own over the next few days. “It’s not that urgent. Just if you have time,” he says. 

He can almost feel Mikhail rolling his eyes on the other end. “You’d say that even if you were bleeding out.”

Yves laughs, startled. “I promise I’m not bleeding out. Just—do you think you could run to the store and get me some Advil?”

There’s another, longer pause on the other end. “Any time is fine,” Yves says. A part of him already regrets this. “If you’re busy right now—”

“I’ll be over in a few,” Mikhail says. Then the line goes dead.

—

He doesn’t remember drifting off, but when he wakes, it’s to a knock on the front door.

The knock is just for courtesy, of course. Mikhail is one of a few people whom he’s permitted the privilege—or the burden, perhaps—of having a spare copy of his apartment key.

Yves opens the door anyways.

There, in the windy April weather, Mikhail shuts an umbrella and leaves it dripping at his feet. “You look even worse than you sounded over call,” is the first thing he says.

Yves blinks at him, surprised. “Did I really sound that bad?”

In lieu of answering, Mikhail just looks at him, scrutinizing, the corner of his lip ticking downward. “What is it? An injury? A migraine?” When Yves shakes his head, Mikhail presses forward to pick a stray lint ball off of Yves’s shirt. His hand makes contact with Yves’s shoulder, and he frowns.

Before Yves has a chance to explain, he feels a tickle—not the first, today, and certainly not the last—surface. It’s irritatingly difficult to ignore, more irritating still when he finds himself forced to turn away, to duck into one arm—

“hHehh-!’ hEHh’yyiISCHh-HHEEW!”

The sneeze is rough enough to scrape against his throat. He coughs tightly into his raised arm.

“A cold,” Mikhail says, with a frown. “But usually you don’t take Advil for colds. Wait—don’t tell me this is something worse?”

Yves winces. What is he supposed to say to that? “The Advil was all I needed,” he says. “Thanks for making the trip. I owe you one.”

“No, I’m sure of it now,” Mikhail says. “If it were only a cold, you would’ve driven out to get this yourself.”

“It probably isn’t,” Yves says, neglecting to mention that he knows exactly where he caught this. “Thanks for bringing these. I’ll take the next couple days off. I—”

The next sneeze sneaks up on him. He ducks into his sleeve again, taking another step back.

“hHhEH’iiDzzsCHH-yYew!” The sneeze sends a burst of pain through his temples, and for a moment, he’s glad his face is too deeply buried into his sleeve for Mikhail to see.

“Does Vincent know?” Mikhail asks.

The question catches him off guard. “What?”

“That you’re apparently unwell enough to ask me to pick up Advil for you.”

Yves doesn’t like where this conversation is going. “I told you not to come if you were busy.”

“It’s not a problem,” Mikhail says. “But if you’re sick, shouldn’t he be over here, taking care of you?”

 “He’s had a really busy few weeks,” Yves says, which is true, but simultaneously might be true at any point during the year. He clears his throat. “I - coughcough - wouldn’t want him to catch this.”

“So he doesn’t even know,” Mikhail says.

…Perhaps Yves should’ve thought of a more convincing excuse. Mikhail isn’t the type of person to drop an issue after he’s raised it, and Yves had, perhaps, neglected to think about how—for all Mikhail does to appear casually disaffected—he’s one of the most perceptive people Yves has ever met. “He doesn’t have to know.”

“What are you talking about? He’s your partner. I’ll text him,” Mikhail says. It’s then when Yves recalls that Mikhail probably does have Vincent’s contact—exchanged before their trip to France, so that he could text them all to coordinate the rides to and from the airport.

“Wait,” Yves says, unable to keep the panic out of his voice. “Don’t. If you text him, he’ll - snf-! - feel obligated to come.”

Mikhail doesn’t lower his phone. “I’ll just ask him to drop by,” he says. “You can talk to him about it when he gets there.”

But that won’t happen—can’t happen—because Yves knows that if Vincent were to see him like this… 

I’d feel terrible if you caught this, he’d said. He’d sounded so upset over it. How can Yves, after all his reassurances last week, admit to him now that he’s faring badly enough to need someone to look after him? 

Besides, Vincent probably has enough on his plate already. Yves knows enough to know that in their line of work, taking time off almost always means being swamped with assignments upon return. 

“Please don’t ask him anything,” Yves says.

Mikhail looks long and hard at him. He looks as though he’s trying to puzzle something out. “Did you guys get into a fight, or something?”

“No,” Yves says. “It’s nothing like that.”

“Then, if you’re on good terms, why are you so resistant to the idea of him coming over?”

Yves squeezes his eyes shut, and then opens them. He can think of a dozen more excuses to field away the questions—that isn’t the hard part. Mikhail has always been good at seeing through his bullshit, but if Yves has to steer this conversation to a close through sheer willpower, he thinks he can do it. But then again—

Maybe it’s fine, he thinks, if Mikhail knows. For better or for worse, Mikhail is his best friend. Yves knows that if he asks him to keep his mouth shut about this, he will. 

“Vincent is my coworker,” he says, slowly.

Mikhail’s eyebrows creep up. “Yes, I’m aware.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Yves says, with a cough. “He is just my coworker. Nothing else.”

The alarm that flashes across Mikhail’s face is unmissable. “You two broke up?”

And there it is—another crossroads, where Yves thinks the easiest course of action would be to reshape the current lie into a simpler one, to keep the trappings of their fake relationship intact. With anyone else, it would be easier, that is.

Yves says, honestly, “We were never together in the first place.”

“But you went with him to France,” Mikhail says, confused. “Not to mention, to Margot’s new year party, and then to Joel and Cherie’s housewarming. Are you telling me—”

“That was all an act,” Yves tells him, and waits for this information to register. “There is nothing between us that’s real. That’s the reason I haven’t called him.”

The recognition settles on Mikhail’s face. Then he laughs, a little disbelieving. “You’re really not dating him? Why would you lie about that?”

“Do you remember Margot’s party?” Yves asks. It seems like the right place to start, after everything. “Erika was there with Brendon. And I was bitter, and—to be honest, jealous—and I wanted to show her I was fine. So I asked Vincent to go with me.”

“That was months ago,” Mikhail says.

“It was easier to just keep up the act, after that.” Yves says. “Easier to have him accompany me once a month than it would have been to stage a proper breakup. But obviously, this is all temporary. I just haven’t figured out when it’s going to end.”

Mikhail is quiet for a moment. Yves looks past him, at the staircase that leads down to the first floor.

“You’ll be fine, then,” he asks. “If you two break it off.”

“Of course,” Yves says. “I know it’s going to happen someday.”

“You won’t be upset at all?”

“What is there to be upset over?”

“From the way you spoke to him, I really thought there was something there,” Mikhail says.

“He is a good liar,” Yves says.

“Maybe so,” Mikhail agrees. “But you are not.”

He says it so calmly, it barely registers as an accusation. But Yves hears it, loud and clear.

“Vincent is attractive,” Yves says. “Anyone with eyes can see that. That’s all there is to it.” it feels wrong, even as he says it. Yves has always known Vincent to be attractive—that much hasn’t changed. But he knows that the feeling in his chest when he sees him at work, in the break room, or at lunch—the unusual ache—is a little more than that. 

“Margot’s party was at the end of December,” Mikhail says. “It’s April, now. Margot wouldn’t tell you this, but since I don’t like withholding my feelings from you, I will.”

Yves waits—waits for Mikhail to tell him how all of this has been unduly dishonest, how Mikhail doesn’t appreciate having been lied to.

But Mikhail doesn’t say any of that. Instead, he says: “If you’re still intent on keeping this fake relationship up…” Here, he meets Yves’s eyes, a little sternly. “You should think about who you’re really doing it for.”

It’s only for convenience, Yves wants to say. Now that we’ve set things up already, it’s merely the path of least resistance. But that isn’t quite right, is it?

“Don’t worry about me,” Yves says, trying a smile. “Vincent and I have talked this through already. Whatever happens with our arrangement, I’ll be fine.”

“Okay,” Mikhail says. He pockets his phone, and then hands Yves the bottle of Advil. “Sorry for the interrogation, then. If you believe it to be fine, I trust you.” Perhaps that’s the worst part of it. Mikhail has never been the type of person to stay quiet about any foreseeable problems, but Yves knows that his agreement now is not a tactical retreat, nor is it an acknowledgment that it’s not worth arguing over something they won’t agree on. Mikhail is dropping the subject because he really trusts him.

Yves just doesn’t know if that trust is justified.

Mikhail turns on his heels, steps delicately past the hinge at the bottom of the doorframe. 

Yves clears his throat. “Thanks for stopping by.”

Mikhail nods. “Feel better soon. If you need anything other than Advil, just give me a call.”

Then he’s gone. Yves shuts the front door behind him and wonders just what exactly he’s gotten himself into.

[whatisthisdrea]

Pook pook ima need u to write me the freakiest, nastiest, filthiest, DISGUSTINGEST Bucky barnes smut in the history of smut. Need him and that fuck ass thunderbolts bob

[Alter Ego] - Bucky Barnes x reader

Y/N took a deep breath, her eyes drinking in the serenity of their surroundings. The cabin's windows gleamed with the warm light from within, and she could see the flicker of a crackling fireplace through the glass. The door creaked open, and she stepped inside, the warmth enveloping her like a lover's embrace. The interior was cozy, with a large, plush couch in front of the fireplace.

"You like it?" Bucky said, his voice rumbling through the quiet space as he leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed over his broad chest. His eyes searched hers, looking for any hint of doubt or dissatisfaction.

Y/N nodded eagerly, unable to contain her excitement. She stepped closer to him, her eyes traveling over his muscular arms. "It's perfect, Bucky," she murmured, her gaze lingering on the intricate tattoos that wove their way over his biceps and forearms, a silent testament to his past. "Better than I ever imagined."

"Mmhmm, you hungry?" Bucky said, his tone teasing and filled with amusement.

Y/N smirked, shaking her head. "No, Bucky," she said, her voice softly purr. "I was thinking about something else."

Bucky raised an eyebrow, curiosity piquing as he stepped fully into the cabin, his arms sliding around her waist. His hands were warm and firm, the touch sending a thrill down her spine. "And what's that?" he asked, his breath warm against her neck.

Y/N turned in his embrace, looking up at him with a mischievous smile. "I was thinking," she began, her voice a sultry whisper, "that maybe it's time we try something new."

Bucky's eyebrow shot up, a look of surprise and intrigue crossing his features. He had seen so much of the world and done things that no one should ever have to do, and yet, with her, he was still discovering new facets of himself. His grip on her waist tightened ever so slightly, and he tilted his head, waiting for her to elaborate.

Y/N took a moment, her heart racing in anticipation of his response. She knew that Bucky was a gentle soul, but she had felt the restrained power within him, the intensity that he kept tightly leashed. She wanted to explore that side of him, the side that was wild and untamed. "I want you to be more rougher with me," she finally said, her voice a soft yet firm command.

Bucky's eyes searched hers, a flicker of surprise mingling with something darker, something primal. He swallowed hard, the cords in his neck standing out. He had never taken her like that before, but the idea of it sent a jolt of excitement through him. He could see the hunger in her eyes, the desire to delve into the depths of their connection.

But deep down, Bucky felt it was a bad idea. He was worried he would hurt her, that the beast he had buried for so long would rear its head and destroy the fragile trust they had built. He had always been careful with her, treating her with the tenderness she deserved after the horrors she had faced. The thought of losing control and letting his past consume him again was terrifying.

"I don't know, baby," he said, taking a step back. His voice was hoarse, and he could feel his heart hammering in his chest. "I'm not sure I can do that."

Y/N stepped closer to him, her eyes never leaving his. She placed her hand on his cheek, her touch gentle despite the demand in her voice. "I trust you," she whispered, her thumb brushing against the rough stubble. "I know you'd never hurt me."

Bucky's eyes searched hers, the turmoil within him clear. He was torn between the desire to give her what she wanted and the fear of losing control. He knew the depths of his own darkness, the things he had done as the Winter Soldier. But she saw past all of that, straight into the heart of the man he was trying to become.

Suddenly, his head started to hurt—a sharp, stabbing pain that took him by surprise. He turned his back against her, groaning as his hand shot up to clutch his forehead. It was like the walls of the cabin were closing in on him, the memories of his past threatening to swallow him whole.

"Buck, are you okay?" Y/N asked, her voice laced with concern as she reached out to him.

Bucky took a deep, shaky breath, trying to shake off the sudden onset of pain. "Yeah, I'm fine," he lied, his voice strained. "Just a headache."

Y/N's eyes searched his, her concern growing. "You're sure?" she pressed, her hand hovering near his shoulder, ready to offer comfort.

Bucky nodded, but his eyes remained squeezed shut, the pain in his head now a full-blown assault. He knew what was happening; the mind games Hydra had played on him were resurfacing, the conditioning trying to take hold once again. He had to fight it, had to keep the beast at bay. He took a deep, shuddering breath and felt the room spin around him.

"B-Buck," Y/N's voice was small, barely a whisper. She had never seen him like this, so vulnerable and lost in his own mind. The silence stretched between them, thick and oppressive.

Suddenly, his heavy breathing stopped. His back was still turned against her, as if he were bracing himself against an invisible enemy. The quiet was so profound that the crackling fire sounded like thunder in the background. Y/N's heart raced, her palms sweaty. She didn't know what was happening but knew she had to help.

"Buck," she said softly, her hand reaching out to touch his shoulder. He flinched at the contact, his whole body tensing.

Slowly he turned around, and Y/N gasped. Bucky's eyes, once the vibrant blue that mirrored the endless sky, had turned dark, almost black. They were empty, devoid of the warmth and kindness she had grown to cherish. It was as if the soul she knew was being swallowed by shadows.

"B-Buck," she stuttered, taking a step back.

With lightning-fast reflexes, Bucky's hand shot out and grabbed her, his metal arm pressing against her throat gently. She gasped, her eyes wide with shock and a hint of fear. But instead of the pain she anticipated, she felt his warm breath against her cheek, his voice low and gruff in her ear. "You're mine," he murmured, his voice a mix of the Bucky she knew and something darker, something more primal.

He crushed his lips to hers, the kiss demanding and possessive. Y/N's body responded instinctively, melting into his embrace despite the initial shock. His other hand tangled in her hair, pulling her closer as his tongue sought hers. The hand around her throat tightened just a fraction, the pressure thrilling rather than terrifying. She moaned into the kiss, the sound a blend of surprise and arousal

The hand that had been resting on his chest started to travel down her body, the touch sending waves of heat through her core. His metal fingers skimmed over the fabric of her shirt, tracing the curve of her waist before hooking under the hem. With a swift, powerful movement, he ripped the garment away, the sound of fabric tearing echoing through the cabin. Her naked breasts were exposed to the cool air, her nipples pebbling with desire.

This wasn't the gentle Bucky she knew; this was the Winter Soldier, staking his claim. His eyes, once filled with love and care, were now cold and calculating. The touch of his metal hand was firm, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. He was no longer her protector but a predator, and she was his prey.

Bucky dropped to his knees, his mouth latching onto one of her breasts, the cold metal of his teeth grazing her sensitive skin. His tongue flicked and danced around her nipple, teasing it into a peak before sucking hard, eliciting a gasp that turned into a moan. Y/N's hands found themselves in his hair, her nails digging into his scalp as she urged him closer. His human hand reached up to clamp down on her other breast, squeezing and kneading, his thumb brushing over her nipple in time with his rhythmic sucking.

With a sudden jerk, he released her nipple with a wet pop, leaving it red and sensitive. He gave her a smirk that didn't quite reach his eyes, the coldness there sending a shiver down her spine. His metal hand slammed down on her ass, the sound echoing in the quiet cabin. The sting of pain melded with the heat of desire, leaving her trembling and gasping for air.

"You want it rough, darling?" He growled, his voice thick with a lust she had never heard from him before. "You got it."

In one fluid motion, Bucky stood, lifting Y/N with ease and throwing her over the couch. She yelled in surprise, her body landing with a soft thud on the plush cushions. The fabric of her jeans scraped against the material as he flipped her around, her cheek pressing into the warm leather. Now, she was face down, her legs hanging over the armrest, her ass high in the air. The position was vulnerable, exposed, and it sent a thrill through her body.

He stepped closer, his booted foot nudging her thighs apart. Y/N's heart raced as she felt the cool metal of his prosthetic hand trace the seam of her pants, the anticipation making her wet. And then, without warning, his tongue darted out, a single, hot stroke that sent a jolt of pleasure through her body. He bent down and took a lick of her pussy, the sensation so unexpected and intense that she gasped, her hips bucking up to meet his mouth. The taste of her arousal on his tongue was intoxicating, the scent of her desire filling the air.

The sound of her moaning grew louder as he started to eat her out, his tongue delving into her folds, exploring every inch of her with a hunger that was both new and thrilling. He licked and sucked, the pressure building with each pass, his teeth grazing her clit lightly. The sensation was overwhelming, and Y/N could feel herself losing control. Her body writhed beneath his ministrations, her hands clutching at the couch cushions as she tried to hold on to reality.

Her juices started to soak his face, but the Winter Soldier didn't care. He was lost in the taste of her, the sweetness of her arousal only fueling his desire. His human hand reached up to grip her hip, keeping her in place as he feasted on her pussy. Y/N's body tightened, her legs trembling as she felt the beginnings of an orgasm coiling deep within her. "Bucky," she moaned, her voice muffled by the fabric of the couch.

He chuckled darkly, his breath hot against her skin. "Not yet," he murmured, his tongue swirling around her clit. The anticipation was unbearable, the pleasure building in waves that threatened to crash over her at any moment. She could feel her muscles tensing, her body begging for release.

"P-please," she whimpered, her voice a desperate plea.

Bucky's eyes narrowed, his grip on her hips tightening. He knew that she was begging for release, but he wasn't ready to give it to her just yet. He loved the sound of her pleas, the way she trembled under his touch. He pulled back slightly, his tongue tracing a wet path up her spine, leaving her gasping for air. The anticipation was palpable, the tension in the room thick with desire.

"P-please," Y/N begged, her voice needy and desperate. The sound of it made something primal stir within him, a beast that had been kept at bay for so long. He couldn't resist her, not when she was like this, so open and willing. With a feral groan, he gave her ass a good, hard spank, the sound echoing through the cabin.

"Oh fuck," she screamed, her orgasm crashing over her like a tidal wave, her body convulsing with the force of it. She felt the wetness between her legs, heard the slap of skin on skin as Bucky's hand connected with her flesh again and again. It was as if he was punishing her for her desires, marking her as his. And she loved it. Her pussy clenched around his fingers, her juices soaking the leather armrest.

But the sound of her pleasure seemed to enrage the beast within him. He pulled away from her abruptly, his eyes flashing with something darker than lust. "What the hell?" he growled, his voice deep and guttural. "You're not allowed to come until I say you can."

Y/N looked over her shoulder at him, panting and flushed. "Bucky," she whispered, "I couldn't help it."

"Get up," Bucky growled again, his voice deeper than she had ever heard it, the darkness in his eyes swirling like a storm. He grabbed her by the wrists, hauling her to her feet. She stumbled, her legs weak from the intense orgasm that had just ripped through her body. He didn't let her go, pulling her closer until their chests were touching. His heart hammered against hers, a wild, untamed beat that matched the ragged breaths she took.

He sat down in one of the plush chairs by the fireplace, his metal leg creaking slightly as he leaned back. The fire cast flickering shadows across his face, making him look even more intimidating. "Kneel," he ordered, his voice a low rumble.

Y/N's eyes widened, the command sending a fresh wave of excitement through her. She had never seen Bucky like this, so commanding and powerful. With trembling legs, she obeyed, dropping to her knees before him. The heat from the fire kissed her skin, a stark contrast to the coolness of the floorboards beneath her knees.

"Good girl," he murmured, the words sending a thrill through her body. His hand reached out, tangling in her hair and pulling her closer. She could feel his hardness pressing against his pants, the heat of his desire scorching her through the fabric. Her own need for him grew with every second that ticked by, her heart racing with anticipation.

"Suck," he demanded, his voice a dark, velvet whisper that sent a shiver down her spine. She didn't need to be told twice; she was eager to taste him, to feel him in her mouth. She unbuckled his belt with trembling hands, the sound of the metal echoing through the silent room. His zipper followed, the fabric parting to reveal the monster that lay beneath.

Her eyes widened at the sight of his cock, thick and hard, jutting out from his body like a weapon. The head was red and glistening with precum, begging for her attention. Y/N leaned in, her heart racing as she wrapped her lips around him, her tongue sliding along the velvety skin. Bucky's grip on her hair tightened, guiding her movements as he pushed himself deeper into her mouth.

"That's it, baby," he groaned, the sound low and needy. "Take it all."

Y/N's eyes watered as she took him deeper into her mouth, her cheeks hollowing with each bob of her head. The taste of him was intoxicating, a heady mix of salt and musk that made her stomach clench with desire. She could feel his pulse against her tongue, the veins on his cock standing out, a testament to his arousal. His hips rocked upward, the movement pushing her down even further until she was choking slightly on his length. But she didn't pull away; she was eager to please, to give him the release he so clearly craved.

Bucky's eyes never left hers, his gaze intense and focused. He watched her, the way she struggled to take all of him, the way she gagged slightly when he hit the back of her throat. His hand tightened in her hair, the grip almost painful as he held her in place.

The sound of her gagging only made him harder, the beast within him reveling in the power he held over her. He started to fuck her mouth, his hips moving in a rough rhythm that she tried to match. Her eyes watered and her throat burned, but she didn't care. All she could feel was the desperate need to please him, to be everything he wanted in that moment.

"That's a good fucking girl," he murmured, the words a dark praise that sent a shiver down her spine. His voice was a mix of Bucky and the Winter Soldier, the two sides of him blending together in a symphony of lust and power. "You're being so good for me right now."

Y/N's eyes watered as she took him deeper, her throat working around his cock. She could feel the veins pulsing, the heat of his desire radiating through her. Her own arousal was a living thing, coiling in her stomach and making her pussythrob with every stroke. The sound of her choking was the sweetest music to his ears, a reminder of the control he had over her in that moment.

he murmured, his voice thick with lust. "You're doing so well." His eyes searched hers, the darkness swirling in their depths. "You're mine, and you're going to take everything I give you."

The words were like a command, one that she couldn't resist. She took a deep breath and pushed herself down, her throat tightening around his cock until she felt him hit the back of her throat. He groaned, the sound low and primal, and she knew he was close. His hips bucked upwards, his hand in her hair urging her faster. And then, with a final, desperate groan, he came, his cum spurting into her mouth, filling her throat. She swallowed, the taste of him hot and salty on her tongue.

For a moment, he remained still, his hand tangled in her hair as he panted heavily, his body shuddering with the aftershocks of his release. Y/N's throat was raw, but she didn't pull away. She waited, her eyes locked on his, her mouth full of his seed, until he finally released her.

Bucky leaned back in the chair, his eyes never leaving hers as she swallowed, her throat muscles working overtime. A bead of sweat trickled down his forehead, his chest heaving with each ragged breath. The hand that had been gripping her hair so tightly now moved to cup her cheek, his thumb brushing away the tears that had formed. The gentleness of the gesture was a stark contrast to the ferocity of their encounter, a reminder of the man beneath the soldier.

"Come here," he rasped, his voice still thick with desire. Y/N nodded, eagerly moving to straddle his lap. The warmth of his body was a stark contrast to the cold metal of his leg, the heat of his arousal pressing against her sensitive folds. She could feel the stickiness between her legs, the evidence of her climax a testament to the power of his touch.

As she settled over him, Bucky's mouth found hers again, his tongue delving deep to taste the remnants of their shared pleasure. The kiss was raw, unfiltered, a claiming that left her breathless and trembling. He kissed her as if he were trying to devour her whole, his hands gripping her hips tightly as she rocked against him, desperate for more. The taste of her sex mingled with the salt on his skin, a heady blend that made her core clench with need.

Then, without breaking the kiss, Bucky reached down, his hand wrapping around the base of his cock. He positioned himself at her entrance, the tip of his cock pressing against her sensitive flesh. Y/N gasped into his mouth as he began to enter her, inch by torturous inch. The stretch was exquisite, the fullness of him filling her up in a way that was both painful and perfect.

As he seated himself fully inside her, she threw her head back, a long, keening moan escaping her lips. His arms tightened around her waist, lifting her slightly before slamming her back down onto his cock, making her scream. The force of his movements was unlike anything she had ever felt, his strength overwhelming. She could feel herself tearing around him, her body struggling to accommodate his size, but the pain only added to the pleasure.

He started to pound up into her, his hips moving in a relentless rhythm that had her body singing with sensation. Each thrust hit her deep, the metal of his arm digging into her flesh as he held her in place. Y/N's nails scratched at his shoulders, her teeth biting into her bottom lip as she tried to muffle the sounds of her pleasure. The room was filled with the sounds of their flesh slapping together, the wetness of her arousal mingling with the harshness of their breaths.

God, it was perfect. The way he claimed her, the way she felt so alive and so utterly consumed by him. Every rough stroke was a declaration of his need, his desire to mark her, to make her his in every way possible. The pain was a sweet symphony that played in harmony with the pleasure, each note sharper and more intense than the last. Her eyes rolled back in her head as she felt another orgasm building, her body trembling and shaking with the force of it.

Bucky's thrusts grew rougher and harder, his cock pummeling into her with a ferocity that left her breathless. Y/N's juices trailed down her thighs, slicking his legs as he pushed deeper, his metal hand digging into her skin, leaving bruises that would linger for days. The sound of their flesh colliding filled the cabin, a primal music that seemed to resonate with the very air around them.

With a final, powerful surge, he buried himself to the hilt inside her, his cock pulsing as he released a torrent of hot cum deep within her. Y/N's eyes widened with the intensity of the feeling, her walls clenching around him as she squirted, the sensation so intense it was almost painful. Her orgasm ripped through her, making her body convulse in his arms as he continued to fuck her through it, his hips moving with the rhythm of her spasms.

"Fuck, bucky," she screamed out, the word a declaration of pleasure and a cry for more. Her nails dug into his shoulders, leaving red streaks that stood out starkly against his skin.

Y/N looked up at him, her eyes glazed with passion. The hand that had been wrapped around the base of his cock stilled, the intensity of her gaze piercing through the haze of lust that had clouded his vision. It was in that moment that she saw the change in his eyes, the dark void that had swallowed them up just moments ago receding, leaving only the deep, gentle blue she had come to love.

"Oh, fuck, baby, what did I do?" The words tore from his throat, raw and desperate, as if he had just woken from a terrible nightmare. Bucky's eyes searched hers, filled with a mix of horror and relief. The hand that had been buried in her hair now cradled her face, his thumb brushing away the tears that had spilled down her cheeks.

He pulled away slightly, his eyes dropping to her neck. The sight of the bruises sent a bolt of panic through him. They were dark and angry. His gaze traveled lower, taking in the marks on her thighs and the handprint on her ass. His heart raced, a cold sweat breaking out over his body. He had lost control. The beast within had taken over, and he had hurt her.

"I'm fine, baby," she murmured, her voice small and shaky. But she didn't look away from him, her eyes fiercely determined. "It's what I wanted."

[jayparked]

hii!! congrats on 1k! ^^ can i perhaps get 47 + 75 with jungwon? <33

"jungwon, please! it's too much!" you cry out, tears staining your cheeks while your boyfriend relentlessly pounds into your pussy. he has you sitting on top of the bathroom sink in some random person's house, the music from the party downstairs vibrating the walls around you. it's the one thing you try to focus on in order to hang onto your sanity. jungwon has already made you come twice now and he's showing no signs of stopping anytime soon.

he watches the spot where your bodies connect carefully, lips parted slightly as he pants with each hardened thrust. his tongue pokes out to swipe along his bottom lip before he looks into your eyes, his own cloudy with determination.

"not stopping," his words come out ragged as he continues to put everything he has into each thrust, "someone else thinks they can fuck you better? im gonna make you come so many times on my cock that you'll never doubt that i'm the only one who can do this to you. only i get to ruin you like this, you hear me?"

"wh-? what are you talking about?" your eyelids are fluttering now and you're desperate to ignore the way your bruised walls clench around him.

"heard some guy talking about you, eye fucking the hell out of you too. said he could probably make you come in less than five minutes," jungwon scoffs, "well i made you come in one minute. and i bet i can do it faster if we were at home." a darkness flicks across his iris's and suddenly he's gripping you even tighter, moving your legs higher up on his waist.

"i want you to scream my name," growling, jungwon grabs your hips and pulls your body in pace to his thrusts, each one harder than the last and it's a miracle you can even understand what he's saying with the way you're so fucked out.

"th-there are people outside this door. you want everyone to know we're having sex?"

"well, this isn't about them now is it?" he grows more aggressively, lips now attached to your collarbone, nipping and sucking on your flesh until pretty little red marks appear.

you try to hold on, you really do. but jungwon lifts you off the counter and holds you against his body, using his upper body strength to bounce you on his cock while he leans against the bathroom wall. the squelching is getting louder as your ability to hang on dissipates.

"fuck! yes! jungwon right there! oh my god jungwon please!" you dig your nails into his shoulders and flex your leg muscles around his waist, his pace still not letting up.

you were doing just fine until suddenly, jungwon's voice drops to a lower register, his tone even and demanding, "that's it baby. tell everyone i'm the only one who can ever make you feel this good."

suddenly, without any warning, you're releasing on his cock once again, his name leaving your lips with a scream that rips through the house right as the music goes silent between changing songs.

for part of my 1k follower celebration send me a member and a number from this list and i'll write a short drabble about it ♡ masterlist

[raveninfog]

Secrecy.

Authors note- hi everyone! I’m pretty new to all this and this is my first shot at writing. I’ve always been a spectator, just waiting on amazing authors to update their fics to reading one shots in the middle of the night cause I can’t sleep. I’ve always had ideas in my head about how I’d write and I decided to finally give it a try. Hopefully you’d all enjoy it. Also with that being said, please don’t be afraid to give me some advice on how I can get better as time goes on. 🫶🏼

Enjoy my loves!

Warnings- flirting, light swearing, nicknames, based in the late 40s. Kissing. Sneaking around, Best friend’s older brother. Sergeant James Barnes. Reader is 20 while Bucky is 24.

Genre- Oneshot! Fluff! Best Friends Brother.

You were sitting there at the dining table with your best friend Rebecca. Working on a school project you had to finish with her for your history class. Books laid out in front of you, papers, pencils. The sound of the front door opening was heard since the dining room was right by the front door of the small home. It was him, Rebecca’s older brother bucky. He was home from the base quite early today.

You’ve had a crush on him for a while, how couldn’t you? He was a sergeant, in the military, about to go fight in the war in a couple months. That crush reciprocated from Bucky, it had seemed like he felt the same way about you too. Which later came out to be very true. So you two had a little secret, a little secret relationship..no one knew about.

Not even Rebecca.

As you saw Rebecca get up and go to the kitchen to grab some snacks, Bucky came up behind you. He knew this was the perfect time too. The kitchen wall blocked off the area of the living room you were in. Your head turning to the side to where he was as you heard him, before he leaned in and kissed your lips passionately. His lips met in a fiery clash, soft yet insistent, moving with a rhythm that spoke of longing and urgency with yours. The warmth of his touch was intoxicating, every brush sending shivers down your spine. It was the way your lips fit perfectly within his, moving in sync, that made everything else fade into the background—a perfect balance of softness and intensity, leaving you two breathless and wanting more.

His lips were pliant and eager, parting slightly to deepen the connection, to draw the you closer. There was a slight pressure, firm and deliberate, as if to imprint the moment into a memory. The sensation was both tender and consuming, each movement speaking of unspoken words, of desire that couldn't be contained.

You were caught off guard of course, especially when you had turned your head and there was your boyfriend. You felt his lips on yours, before closing your eyes and kissing him back. The way he had bent down and had his hand on the back of your head, tilted upwards to get a good angle of your perfect lips on his . The warmth of your own breath and his mingled, and the world around you two faded away, leaving only the steady rhythm of your hearts and lips together.

“Is this how you say hello?...” you whispered to him in between kisses, when you pulled away just slightly for him to capture your lips again in a split second for a moment.

You could feel him pull away, to see if Rebecca was still in the kitchen. Hell, he could hear Rebecca going through the cabinets to find snacks or something.

To his luck, she was still in the kitchen. You had felt his lips right back on yours once again without even saying a single thing to you until he had finally pulled away to speak. He rested his forehead against yours, his thumb moving onto your cheek bone and caressing it gently before his thumb slid down to your bottom lip doing the same.

His lips curled into a soft smirk, his perfect little doll he absolutely adored with all his god damn being. It was almost surprisingly how Rebecca didn’t notice her big brother look at her own best friend with love in his eyes for you.

“What else do you want? A little love tap?” He teased you as he ran his thumb against your chin now.

You finally felt him pull his hands away from you, standing up straight as he fixed his uniform and took a shuffle back just in time as Rebecca had made her way back with some tea she had made. God, Rebecca was so oblivious to the point where it felt too easy. Too easy to the point it felt god damn suspicious.

“Let’s get this project over with so we can go to bed, unless you want Bucky to drive you home Y/N.” Becca said, setting the mug of tea in front you before taking a seat in the chair. Her face having a clear look of annoyance at the papers in front of her.

Bucky turned his head, looking at his little sister because he took a glance at you and cleared his throat a little.

“Why not tell dad to drop her off?” He spoke up. It felt like torture to say that, but he knew he had to play the game of keeping the relationship a secret.

Rebecca rolled her eyes and looked at her older brother before snickering at him.

“Well hello to you too, Why wouldn’t you wanna drop your girlfriend off?”

“WHAT?!” You and Bucky say in sync, shock spreading on his face while your cheeks turned completely red.

“What do you mean wha- oh come on, did you guys REALLY think I was that stupid..you guys aren’t exactly the best at hiding things. Especially since you two are always making out somewhere in the damn house.”

Buckys cheeks turned red as he rubbed the back of his neck, he honestly didn’t know what the hell to say to his little sisters revelation about her knowing everything. Clearly you were embarrassed, not to mention shocked about your best friend knowing. God you knew you and Bucky weren’t ever gonna hear the end of this. Not in a bad way really, more in an annoying way where she’d bring it up at every occasion she sees.

“Uh well…I-If that’s the case then yeah..I’ll drop Y/N off…unless she’s sleeping over.” Bucky said, before clearing his throat awkwardly.

“Ugh pervert..” Becca muttered in disgusted.

[hrrtshape]

things i love in my FAME DR

⋆  drinking champagne on a random tuesday just because i can.

⋆  driving a vintage convertible with the top down in LA traffic, blasting my own songs.

⋆  being so known that people quote my lyrics like poetry on social media.

⋆  the absolute artistry in my vogue italia cover shoots.

⋆  randomly flying to paris…or milan…..or berlin for a dior, miu miu…HERMESSSS fitting—because, duh, i’m their muse.

⋆  seeing my movies being studied in film schools like they’re modern classics.

⋆  sneaking a cigarette on the balcony at the oscars after winning.

⋆  walking barefoot backstage because my heels were killing me.

⋆  getting unhinged fan edits that make me cry and scream at the same time.

⋆  performing at coachella while visibly high off my rocker—and nobody caring.

⋆  writing songs that feel like therapy for me and my fans.

⋆  tom blyth. 

⋆  always having a stash of…uhm….special powder in my gucci clutch—classy, chic, unhinged. very 50s star.

⋆  wearing vintage chanel on grocery runs just to feel extra.

⋆  posing dramatically on yachts during european summers.

⋆  owning a gallery-worthy art collection in my mansion.

⋆  crying during interviews and still getting called “so brave and real.”

⋆  that iconic met gala moment when i wore THAT dress everyone still talks about.

⋆  my diary entries being turned into art—fans eat it up.

⋆  tripping on red carpets and making it fashion.

⋆  messy nights in ibiza.

⋆  doing photo shoots with baby animals just because it’s cute.

⋆  dressing like a modern marie antoinette for a themed gala.

⋆  fans tattooing my lyrics on their skin—forever.

⋆  spending a whole weekend at a spa retreat just to recover from partying.

⋆  hosting insane house parties where EVERYONE shows up.

⋆  scandals.

⋆  being so unapologetically messy that it’s endearing to the public.

⋆  being a walking contradiction—diva but down-to-earth.

⋆  leaving paparazzi photos with my mascara smudged everywhere—aesthetic.

⋆  showing up late to events but making an entrance.

⋆  my hair being an absolute serve 24/7, even messy buns.

⋆  touring the world, performing while fans scream every lyric back at me.

⋆  married men.

⋆  the unshakable LOVE from my fans, who see me for all my messy, beautiful, insane glory.

⋆ accidentally causing global trends—like wearing a mismatched outfit and suddenly it’s high fashion.

⋆  randomly disappearing from social media for weeks and sending fans into a frenzy.

⋆  posting cryptic captions that spark 10,000 conspiracy theories.

⋆  photographers constantly snapping candid pics of me reading some obscure classic novel in public. book club incoming ???

⋆  wearing diamonds that literally weigh more than my head. hell yea.

⋆  constantly being compared to old hollywood icons like elizabeth taylor, but with a “modern tragic edge.”

⋆  writing poetry on napkins during nights out.

⋆  sneaking into museums after-hours because art IS just better without people around.

⋆  my team dragging me out of the club because i have a press interview in six hours.

⋆  my, my, my, my!!! name constantly being whispered on red carpets—“she’s here.”

⋆  dilfs, part 2. did i stutter?

⋆  fans screaming louder for me than anyone else at film premieres. i’m a bit of an attention whore if u haven’t decoded that already😔

⋆  causing heated debates over my most “controversial” songs (when I’m just vibing).

⋆  dropping albums with no promo, knowing it’ll still hit #1 in 47 countries. attention whore part 2.

⋆  literally JUST EXISTING and still being considered the cultural moment.

[lovelaetter]

hii ! it's my first time writing & sending an ask so I'm kinda unsure what to say "( – ⌓ – ) but please hear me out on rosie posie ♡♡ quick psa, has a lot of context sorryyy

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ stepcest & kinda dubcon

⠀⸝⸝⸝⠀⠀( stepdaughter!reader × guilty!stepmom!rosé ) rosie feels so bad for seeing her daughter like that—she's supposed to be her mom, she married her father—but she just can't help herself. guilt building up 'n she gets all flustered whenever she sees you because her mind starts swirling and she just can't. you obviously notice because who wouldn't notice someone who's recently moved in ogling at them. oh my. rosie thinks she's being discreet because, once again, she married your dad, she's supposed to be attracted to him. but she swears she can see you staring back at her, stealing glances, but she refuses to give it thought. there's no way her now-daughter is going to reciprocate—that would be immoral.

but she can't help herself anyway, not when she's doing laundry and hopes you don't notice the fact some of your underwear is missing. when they appear again, this time with her own «ysl libré» scent, that's all the confirmation you need.

confronting stepmom!rosé is all a haze, rosie's not sure how she ended up eating you out as an 'apology', all she knows is that it feels so good to finally let go to her wants. you aren't very nice though, pulling on rosé's hair as to guide her and also what could be called a makeshift leash. rosie is sloppy, unsure, too pussy-drunk to actually do anything but loll her tongue out and deliver kitten licks. but that's okay, you have plenty of time to teach her mommy how to please her.

and then rosie can't believe she actually did that—but you can. ever so often teasing rosé by spreading their legs a bit wider than normal whilst they sit across from rosie during dinner. maybe also a bit of increased touchiness, discreet groping that makes rosé squeak and then cover it up with a cough. what else is she supposed to do? she'll have to admit she ate out her stepdaughter to get anything to stop. but she also doesn't mind your teasing, honestly, she loves it. she does get a good reward at the end of the day for being so good and quiet tho. she's so filthy for wanting her stepdaughter, the least she could do is behave for a small prize.

you're constantly reassuring rosie because who wouldn't want a pretty, older girl wrapped around their finger? rosé has never been one to go behind her lover's back, but now she can't help but picture you when she's giving her hubby a blow or when she's getting pounded dumb by your dad. but it's okay, you're still there to dumb her down even more.

⠀⸝⸝⸝⠀⠀she doesn't need to use her pretty head when all she has to do is just take it. maybe bent over the kitchen counter while your dad's at work. she's whining and tearing up because she's just so sensitive and one more finger would break her in half. something against that one spot is so different—so much better—than her husband mindlessly pounding into her. your fingers curl up and it just feels so good for her because it's not just her cervix, it's her spongy insides and swollen clit that are making her cry out in need.

taking her on the living room couch as well, some cheesy series you wanted to watch with her turning into her eating you out. she was a bit dumb to believe you actually wanted to just watch a movie—you're wearing loose clothes and your panties are peaking, you obviously have other intentions. there's even a bottle of lube shamelessly staring from the coffee table. all she can hear is the sounds from the TV turning into white noise as your moans drown out everything out. you're pulling and tugging on her hair, keeping her in place with your thighs, making sure she does well.

(I also have a few thoughts for roles reversed as in stepmom!reader corrupting stepdaughter!rosie (⸝⸝ ˊᗜˋ⸝⸝ ) but I think this is already long enough hahahah)

signed by ☃️

STEPCEST

yes, god, my head HURTS, i have nothing to add to this just yes… yes! if you don’t have a blog, i need you to create one asap and let me know bc !! i kinda want to live inside your mind ngl

and i might be suspicious about stepdaughter!rosie because i love the concept of her x older!reader so much, in my humble opinion she would only be allowed to date older women, so please share your thoughts on that too, i really want to hear them :(

[nagiseishirro]

Hello, I'm in love with your writings!!! I hope my request is something you can do. It's okay if you feel uncomfortable. I'm very curious about Chubby reader x nagi I mean, what does he think, what does he do, I would be very happy if you tell me as nsfw.

HELLO NONNIE!!! i've just read the deadliest reonagi fic on ao3 known to mankind and need something to take my mind off it so.... here you go :x <3

warnings: nsfw implications under the cut, but nothing is explicitly stated. slightly possessive nagi at the end? implies that nagi supports and encourages weightloss when necessary. not proofread.

SFW:

to nagi, he doesn't really understand why people would care so much about appearances.

he doesn't mind your stature, it's quite refreshing for him to see something he doesn't see often—given how he goes to one of the richer schools and practically lives in the soccer fields with reo.

he thinks it's okay to slack off once in a while, or all the while, actually.

he knows it's a hassle to take care of oneself, so he doesn't mind you, he lets you be.

if you want to start working out, he'll gladly support you and immediately texts reo to temporarily (or permanently) rent over an entire gym.

if you're happy with your body, however, he'll support you in that, too!

he's far too lazy to spoil you himself, so he gets reo to spoil the both of you.

he does look after you to not let you get overweight to the point of life-threatening, though. no way, you're far too precious to lose.

he knows he himself needs to have some form of exercise throughout the week, as much as he dislikes it, so once again... he calls reo over.

he'd get reo to buy those VR headsets. it's a win-win. he gets to play his game, and gets to play it with you. the cherry on top? that he doesn't have to go out in the sun to exercise, he thinks.

other than that? he's absolutely relishing whenever you're draped over him on the soft sheets of his bed.

he swears he can have your weight pressed up against his back at any time, anywhere. you're the perfect amount of heavy—not too light that it just can't hit his right spots, just perfect.

NSFW:

he absolutely loves the feeling of the plump of your waist melting in the palm of his hand as he wrecks you with his undeniable adoration for you.

the way you wrap nd clench so nicely around him, like you don't want him anywhere else drills adrenaline into his hazy mind—he couldn't ask for more.

until he does.

"mm—more, do it again." he's addicted. maybe more addicted to you then he is to his switch.

the way your skin, just from a little thrust, ripples from your hips, through your waist and fogs into your torso just has him locked.

he loves the way he can easily tell that, you're enjoying it as much as he does. no thinking, hassle, just pure looking.

"mmhck— s'pretty. y'rpretty.. 'know th–thaat? even better, all mine."

he thinks out loud, and he knows you heard him. he's gonna make sure you know you're perfect—maybe not for the rest of the world, but perfect, for him, and him alone.

note: hope you liked this :3 i love taking requests send me more guys :x

[kumraa]

“Whats the worst that could happen?!”

She asks swinging her arms around. Her voice echoing through the empty castle we have recently reached. It takes a strong will for me to not clench my sword. She doesn’t know a thing about it. She can’t learn a thing about it. It is impossible for me to talk about it and ignorance is the bliss i let them live in.

“Do not speak of things you don’t know you idiot child.” I clench the tilt of my sword. “Have I not taught you that?”