#whenever i see one while hiking i know it will be a good day

[virtie333]

The black-billed magpie is one of my favorite birds

Everyone always talks about crows and ravens. Why does no one ever talk about magpies? Why do tuxedo corvids get no love?🥺

[seumyo]

BAKUGOU KATSUKI ✰ 3:58

No amount of hectic schedules, exhausting patrols, rowdy villains, and never-ending legal paperwork could ever keep Bakugou from attending his daughters’ extracurricular activities—because he’d literally go through literal hell and back than to ever see a disheartened pout along with the silent treatment after he gets home from work.

You think he’ll ever miss any of his daughters’ milestones? Fuck no!

Bakugou insists on being at every event, his phone—and even an actual camera during a good day—in hand, his heart swelling with pride and unconditional love that makes his chest figuratively hurt; it might as well be a medical problem at some point. 

Because, if anything, Bakugou Katsuki is a father first and a hero second.

“Shit, ‘m late. Have they started yet?”

He’s sweating as if he just used his explosions to propel himself in the air to get to you quicker, but, in truth, he sort of had to just run since the traffic on the highway today would’ve only angered and slowed him down. He left patrol to Halfie, who offered to take his shift, knowing how many times Bakugou covered for him when he was in his son’s piano recital.

“They just started doing warmups,” you answer. “Did you run? You’re drenched to the bone; you’re going to catch a cold if you don’t get changed into some dry clothes.”

“Hah, doubt it.” He snorts, though he does appreciate the thought of you bringing him a spare shirt for just-in-case purposes.

You're always the one who thinks ahead, aren't you? Bakugou knows he’s a very lucky man to have such a doting, caring wife that humbles him whenever he gets too focused on his pride. The balance that he didn’t know he needed!

Ignoring the gawking stares of the other parents—because it’s not everyday you see the Pro Hero Dynamight in mundane activities such as watching his kid take gymnastics’ lessons—he looks through the glass in search of his little princess.

Just as he saw her, his lips curled to that oh-so genuine smile, one that just said, “That’s my daughter, right there! Look at how awesome she is!” 

Bakugou remembers how his parents were the same and how they were very supportive of his interests and hobbies, no matter how odd they may be for a five-year-old. How often do you see someone learning to take on both hiking and archery at the age of five? Bakugou was sure he learned most skills during his childhood that made him a firm hero in the field today.

“She has a bit of trouble with tumbling because of her tummy.”

“Yeah? And does that have somethin’ to do with my awesome cooking?” Bakugou replied smugly. “Besides, ‘ts just baby fat, and I’d prefer to see her like this than to see her thin but often sick.”

“Mhm, and she makes up for the cutest ending pose.”

“And her effortless splits. Have the coaches seen her do that?”

You shook your head. “Not yet,” you say, “but I think they’re about to do it—oh! Look, look!”

And he does; his phone’s camera is already recording his youngest daughter doing a perfect vertical split, while the other girls somewhat struggle to maintain a consistent posture. 

“She’s a natural, hun.”

“She is,” you chuckle, “just like her Daddy to a certain extent.”

“Damn right, she is.”

Bakugou tries to hold back his laughter when your daughter once again attempts a forward roll with the guidance of the staff. Her tummy somewhat makes it a bit difficult for her to do so. The way she hesitates but then does the forward roll, albeit a little lopsided with a smile that shows her adorable tooth gap—it was safe to say that your daughter was over the moon with her gymnastics lessons.

It’s all too much for him to take.

And when all is over, he greets his daughter by picking her up and blowing raspberries on her neck that have her squealing in laughter before he insists that he’ll be the one to talk to the coaches about the upcoming schedules and the progress your daughter has made. 

“Mr. Bakugou, she’s a good listener, and I believe that she’ll be moving onto the next class with the older children in no time,” they told him. “Has she received prior training before this one?”

“She’s also taking ballet lessons,” he answers, “but gymnastics is what she really likes. Ballet was just a compromise since your services weren’t available in our area at that time.”

“That’s wonderful to hear. It’s a joy to have her in class. I’ve already sent Dr. [Last Name] the schedules we offered, and we are looking forward to having your daughter in the upcoming lessons.”

The walk back to your car was light and quiet for a change. Your youngest daughter, Kusami, was out like a light in Bakugou’s arms, having worn herself out with socializing, rolling, doing splits, and whatnot the gymnastics’ instructors told her to do. And Bakugou was just letting the simple moment sink in because this is what he considers the most rewarding part of his day. 

Time spent with his family.

Bakugou also warmed up to the thought of having to interact with other parents. He chatted with a single father earlier, whose daughter was the oldest in Kusami’s class. It was nice to converse with equally enthusiastic and supportive parents that you meet through your children's extracurricular activities.

“Let’s go through a drive-through; get Katsumi her usual order,” Bakugou murmurs, remembering how his oldest daughter, Katsumi, would’ve probably woken up from her nap by now and was probably anticipating her family’s return. 

“Alright,” you nod. “Katsumi and Kusami have swimming lessons tomorrow at five in the afternoon, too. Do you think you’d get home that early?”

“Of course,” he answers. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

SEUMYO © 2024, PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, PLAGIARIZE, MODIFY OR TRANSLATE.

[bbeoms]

rugby!simon headcanons

hello, my sports hyperfixation this summer is rugby union, thus here i present you my rugby player simon riley brainrot! decided to write it cause why not???? someone needed to bring this idea to life. i hope you enjoy <3

fluff, suggestive, slight hurt/comfort

- plays as a forward (more specifically, second row/lock) so he’s always there during a scrum!

- and as we know, forwards are usually huge men 🤭 so 6’4 117kg simon is the perfect candidate

- you have to restrain yourself every time he’s in his kit cause have you seen how tight their jerseys and shorts are?????

- you can’t help but stare at how the fabric hugs his pecs and how the sleeves are lowkey cutting off circulation to his arms cause of how large his biceps are (and the way his tattoos peek out from the sleeves? chefs kiss)

- hikes up his shorts when he knows you’re watching and smirks when he catches you staring at the thick muscle of his thighs

- avoids wearing his kit around you when you’re ovulating cause he’s not sure he can control himself with the way you eye him like you’re ready to pounce

- (he learned his lesson after that one time you went to a match when you were ovulating. simon didn’t think it was possible, but you managed to milk him dry after you guys went home that night 💀 the hormones made you too feral until you managed to make him tap out lmao)

- anyone else become possessed by a succubus during ovulation?,,,,,, just me?,,,,, okay,,,,

- doesn’t usually wear a scrum cap during his matches

- but there was a couple of times he had to wear it (per the doctors recommendation) to protect stitches he had near his ear

- “ohmygod si you look like the end of a pencil ✏️”

- sulked at your teasing, he didn’t want to wear it either 😭

- you cooed and proceeded to shower his face with lil kisses until he forgave you

- felt his heart melt when you squished your cheek to his and took a selfie, your smile wide as you laugh at the way his blond strands were cutely sticking out of the cap (and how he still, looked like the end of a pencil)

- made it his lockscreen immediately

- being a rugby girlfriend isn’t always fun and games though

- it’s an extremely physical and dangerous sport and although you’d like to think simon is invincible, he’s still human

- it’s hard to believe but there are quite a number of players that are taller and heavier than him (you can’t say they have the same skill set though, simon is really good at his job)

- there’s always an underlying feeling of anxiety every time you watch him play

- injuries are a given

- split skin, bleeding ears and broken bloody noses are some of the more tame injuries you’ve seen simon get.

- simon coos at your tears and furrowed eyebrows whenever you tend to his injuries during rest days

- you don’t like seeing your man hurt!!!! :(((

- (okay but it is pretty hot when he gets all bloody in the face like in the first picture like hello??? lemme jump on you)

- straddling his lap while wiping the dried blood off his eyebrow

- “gimme a kiss”

- being cheeky and steals a kiss on your lips after you ignore his request

- reassures you that he’s alright and reminds you that he’s had worse injuries

- you give him a glare, silently telling him to not remind you of that time you thought he died on the pitch

- simon got hit with a high tackle, the fucker that was attempting to tackle him had his shoulder straight into simon’s neck (the guy got a red card deservingly) knocking simon back and motionless on the pitch

- you watched in horror as multiple bodies pile on top of him, not noticing that simon was out cold

- soon enough, the team’s medics were on field and stretching him away for treatment

- simon still feels your gentle touch on his face that day, thumb rubbing his cheek willing him to be okay

- he still remembers the look on your face despite being concussed. distraught, dried tears staining your cheeks.

- you were so scared, you didn’t know how bad his concussion was and what the aftermath of such injury would entail.

- he’d never felt such tenderness before

- he couldn’t believe that someone cared about him that much, didn’t think that he would ever find someone to love him like you do

- whispers i love you for the first time in his dazed state

- decides at that point that he won’t let you go, and has become a simp ever since <3

left to right pics: david pocock, tariq sims, chris robshaw (<- he would lowkey make a good simon riley imo)

[gay-dorito-dust]

Imagine Bill/Stanford x a clumsy reader who is constantly getting injured or stumbling and bumping into something.

Going on a long hike? Reader falls and busts their fuckin knee. Walking by the fridge after grabbing a snack? Slips over a puddle of water and breaks their wrist.

I'm genuinely curious as to how they would respond separately, constantly having to deal with reader's shit.

Love your content, by the way. Keep up the good work! :D 💗

Bill cipher

Finds it funny, after all pain is hilarious to him but it’s made even more funnier if someone else is doing it to themselves.

Don’t expect him to help you in any way shape or form, he’s like one of those friends who’ll laugh as you fall down the stairs before ever thinking of helping you back up.

But in this instance he just leaves you in pain and gets all bothered when you’re all healed up again, claiming that you’re not as fun as you are when you’re injured. So I’d watch your step for the next couple of days for banana peels or anything that could cause you physical harm.

You’re his very own version of you’ve been framed with how often you managed to end up hurting yourself over near enough everything, so much so that he just develops a sixth sense when you’re about to hurt yourself and appears just in time to whiteness it with some deer teeth.

Needless to say Bill will find your sprained ankles, busted kneecaps and broken arms hilarious and might even record his favourite ones to look back on when he’s bored to reminisce over the good times. (I don’t know what else you expect of me for him. It’s bill cipher, he’s the least helpful dude in existence)

Stanford Pines

Poor guy had gotten more and more grey hairs because of how accident prone you are. He would like you very much in one piece thank you very much.

Also he’s got good reflexes for a man of his age and would most likely be able to catch you by the arm or the waist before you even fall or trip while asking if you were okay with the most concerned look upon his face.

He’ll gladly let you use him as crutch when you’ve tripped and busted your knee or sprained your ankle, anything that he could do to make sure that you were in less pain then you already were, Ford will do it in a heartbeat in hopes that he’d never have to do this again. Only to later come to terms that he was with the most clumsiest person in all of Gravity Falls, and that he would be used as your personal crutch constantly.

After a couple more accidents and Ford is already carrying a makeshift first aid kit and had done intensive research on all he needed to deal with things like bruises, cuts and sprains just for you. However he’ll always try to move you away from any and all potential hazards, only for him to look back at you to see that you’ve somehow managed to trip on thin air and bruise your chin.

You’re lucky this man loves you dearly because you had proven yourself to be a handful at some cases, but Ford knew it wasn’t your fault and would never make it out to be your fault in the slightest. And yet the temptation to baby proof everything -especially the lab- was strong within him, but would rather keep an eye on you himself to make sure you somehow didn’t hurt yourself on the corner of a table or counter.

He only knew you would because you did bump into the corner of a table once and tried to hide it from him, but he knew you better then most and immediately gets an ice pack for your bruise. At this point you being accident prone was about as normal as waking up to being covered in Mabel’s stickers or almost tripping over Waddles because he was sleeping nearby.

Yes you once tripped over waddles because he was sleeping near your bed once, did you hurt yourself? Obviously. Did Ford have to take care of you? Of course he did but he didn’t mind taking care of you now and then as you did the exact same whenever he got himself hurt. You weren’t aloud in certain places without Ford because there was too much where you could hurt yourself on, that and Ford didn’t feel like having a heart attack every five seconds you came even remotely close to injuring yourself. Again.

He kisses your bruises and cuts. Fight me I’m in a soft mood.

[suguru-getos]

୨・┈﹕✦﹕ Kinktober Day 12/13﹕✦﹕┈・୧

keigo takami x f!reader -> nipple play, thigh riding

-> art credit goes to the wonderful @/kadeart

-> event masterlist

being the number two hero’s assistant at work had it’s own perks. you had a lavish salary, you had a lot of work so you were busy in the best of ways, you had hawks — the bestest perk ever. you got to be near him, near enough so you could smell his wonderful cologne whenever he talked to you, near enough to see his beautiful crimson wings and how they had a life of their own. expressing hawks’ moods whenever. sometimes they’d be extra perky, sometimes faltered up when he’s bored/annoyed. sometimes flared up when he’s a little moody.

you also know what he likes/dislikes by your heart. his favorite coffee, his favorite restaurant place he likes to takeout from. and his antics and his charm whenever he wants something.

it started a few months ago with a drunken one night stand which has now made you hawks’ most favorite toy and loved toy ever. you don’t want to label it as a relationship, part of you dreads he would run away if you got a little too clingy. part of you could almost see hawks wanting you to be his baby-mama with the way sometimes his pupils slit and his gaze darkens in the most carnal, predatory & animalistic of ways.

whether he would just shamelessly look down your ass when you wear a pencil skirt, bend you over his table and tease you with his semi protuding between your ass cheeks and call you cute for whimpering for him. or whether it’s one of his sick games. oh yeah— hawks loves to play with his prey, you.

today’s game was boredom. keigo was bored and sick of the paperwork he had, being the fastest hero sure had some disadvantages too. slumping dramatically over his desk, his brain smirked at what was next. he called you to his cabin, feathers quickly locking and shutting the roor while he yanked you to straddle his thigh, skirt hiked up and shirt’s buttons loosened. “fuck- hawks- what are you?” you gasped softly while his hands massaged your mounds with a hum.

“ssh~ is it professional to speak to your boss like that?” he smirked, leaning in and biting your sensitive earlobe. your breasts were pulled out of your bra cups, while you could feel your cheeks darken at the embarrassment and flustering situation keigo has put you in. you gasped, your pelvis on fire with the way he knows how to touch your body in the best ways.

“god it’s tiring to read so much.” keigo sighs, pinching and squeezing your nipples while you feel the pressure on your clit when he hikes his knee up. you gasped out, whimpering & mewling at the tug on your hardened nipples. “please- shit oh my god.”

hawks smirked, and you could feel his cockiness when he whispered. “it’s so lewd how you’re not listening—“ he mumbled, “don’t make me punish you now.” he warned once, pinching your nipple harshly so the pain makes you comply.

“hmm, so, where was i? yeah.” he grinned, still toying with your nipple and “grind on my thigh.” he commanded, and it was as if you had no choice but to comply. cheeks flushed as you moved your pelvis against him while he didn’t leave your nipples alone. “you will read these paperwork reports, all the ones which are left, and until we’re done… you don’t cum.”

a rebellious whine escaped from your parted lips, brows furrowed as you continued, and even though hawks had been relentless in toying with your pebbled nub, he means it. “come on; it should be rewarding in some ways.. shouldn’t it babybird?”

“go on… read.” hawks’ voice was a threatening order. while you whimpered, trying so hard to focus on the piece of paper in front of you.

“the- the smuggling gan- gang res- responsible for the smuggling of antiques was, hnng- recently caught by the wing hero.” you pathetically finished the sentence, while hawks could feel himself losing his mind over the way his cock threatened to come out from the tent in his pants.

“aw good girl.” hawks smirked, “continue… go on.” he continued, kissing the sweet spot in your neck & suckling onto your skin, breaking it into a hickey.

eventually, after long, cumbersome 44 minutes of you sniffling, whimpering, and begging hawks to let you cum, hawks melted. “awh, she’s crying now?” he cooed, kissing your cheek.

“go on babybird, cum for me.” he smiled, and you tipped off the edge, staining your pants and also his thigh while your nipples were sore from the continuous playing hawks never got tired of.

your mouth parted in a silent scream when you whimpered and tipped off the edge, nerve wracking orgasm tearing through you. “that’s it, sweet girl.” hawks cooed, kissing your cheek and eventually eating your sniffles in a silent, passionate kiss.

he did the courtsey of dressing you up, primming you up & kissing your chin. “that’s it girl, that’s it. you did so well for me. you know that? hmm?” his behavior had changed completely, peppering your face with soft and tender kisses all over. “gonna need you to go to dinner with me, love bird.” he cooed, while you hummed in a nod.

“sure, hawks.” you spoke out, wiping your tears and reduced to a mess in subspace.

“it’s keigo, sweetness.”

[written-with-blue-ink]

Pokemon Characters and Date Ideas

Basically: what dates would these Pokemon characters do with you? Characters: N Harmonia, Leon, Grimsley, Rika & Prof. Augustine Sycamore

N Harmonia

Was honestly showing affection and did private, one-on-one hangouts together even before you two started dating

It was around this time he got more affectionate in your friendship. Resting his head on top of your hair, deep eye contact (which he was often really bad at), and braiding/playing with your hair or vice versa. 

It wasn’t until you “officially” ask him out and he cocks his head to the side like a confused puppy and goes “I thought we already were?”

Confusion ensues.

As for dates, N is a really quiet and private guy. He doesn’t like being out in public or in overstimulating environments.

Most of the time dates are hikes, picnics, exploring, all that the fun outdoorsy stuff where he gets to shine in his element. 

Occasionally y’all go to Nimbasa City and go on the Ferris Wheel or play at the arcade in the Amusement Park which you both find enjoyable. 

But his favorites are on late nights when neither of you can sleep. 

You two will just go to Dragonspiral Tower and stargaze at the top of the ruins or watch the local wild pokemon do their thing. 

It’s quiet, it’s fun, and he’s with you. What else could he ask for?

Leon

Dense boy, you probably had to beat him over the head with a book to get his brain to understand (mostly bc he keeps accidentally friend-zoning himself)

Has never really dated before? 

Like, Rose set him up on dates because it's good publicity but he probably hasn’t gone on a real date.

He has money, all these brand partnerships and stuff. He tries to do really classy stuff when y’all first start dating but it leads to him being clearly uncomfortable and you getting fed up and explaining you like him for him and to do fun stuff together.

Mostly home dates from that point on or outings that don’t feel like “dates”. 

Game nights where you two play video games are super fun. Some days are challenge days where you see who can do the best run on a Roguelike or who can win the most rounds of a battle royale type game

Some days are cozy co-op games where you solve puzzles and create things…

Y’all’s favorite thing to do together though is just walk and get lost. Esp with Leon’s terrible sense of direction, you two find weird hole-in-the-wall places that are so much fun.

The best one you found was a great hole-in-the-wall traditional kantonian ramen bar that was on the edge of going out of business. However, due to you and Leon talking about it so much with friends and posting about it online, you saved the shop from going out of business.

Grimsley

Your first date with Grimsley wasn’t really what you were expecting in all honesty

He took you out for lunch at his favorite Kalosian cafe then took you to a bookstore and had you both pick out different books for each other, then went to his house and read while old records played in the background

Of course, the book he picked out for you was one of Shauntal’s (because gotta support your friends/little sister figure)

It was so different from what you were expecting but so sweet at the same time. 

Most common dates are drinks at bars after long days or flower viewings knowing you would like them

He also takes you to his favorite spots whenever he visits Alola with you.

But the most fun dates are when the two of you go to Castelia or Nimbasa to the casinos

You both are given the same amount of money and the challenge is who makes the most in time for your dinner reservation

Whenever the two of you see each other during these you have a habit of teasing the other about who’s in the lead. 

In the end, the winner pays for dinner (much to the chagrin of the other)

Rika

She’s the one who asked you and was super casual and blunt about it

Picks you up after work and takes you to the store where the two of you talk about what to make for dinner.

The two of you go back to her place and begin cooking together, smiling and chatting the whole time as the two of you get distracted by cutting veggies and being in each other’s company.

From then on dates were mostly cutesy, one-on-one time for the two of you.

Crafts while watching movies are the most common, sewing, embroidery, sketching, it's just fun and relaxing

Ceramics classes too, wet clay on your hands and you rub it on her face. Only for her to cock her brow and smirk as she cups her face with her filthy hands and kisses your nose.

Her favorite dates are the ones when you get to help her at the Academy. Running after-school activities or working in the library

It combines her admiration of her students and her love of you… her two favorite things

Prof. Augustine Sycamore

Honestly over the moon when you accepted to go on a date with him

The man is in his late 30s/early 40s and his last relationship kinda fell apart really badly 

*cough cough Lysandre cough*

So he was out of the dating scene for a while and didn’t exactly know what to do when you said yes

Like, his brain crashed and did a hard reset. He was not expecting to get this far…

He gives all his employees off one day and decks out the backyard of his lab with string lights, and sheets, rummaging around the attic of the lab, and a call to his favorite restaurant.

When you arrived you saw the backyard completely transformed into a cozy outdoor movie spot with takeout and snacks prepared at a picnic table

It’s super sweet

Besides that, you two go on “research” dates together. It’s mostly pokemon watching and taking notes on what you find.

The little sketches he does of the pokemon you find absolutely adorable!

[astralis-ortus]

love, am i home?

✱ bestfriend!bc × gn!reader

— how can you tell it's not simply an infatuation?

w.count → 0.6k genre → angst, one-sided love warnings → minor cussing, mention of alcohol but no described consumption a.n → honestly i don't even know what i wrote i am feeling feelings soooo yeah! also, there's a few mentions of bambam as the home owner lol ⋆ see masterlist

“do you reckon i’ll fall in love someday?’

chan’s odd, unprovoked question nearly made you choke on the strawberry-lychee juice you were trying so hard to savor. worse, your heart also took a hit from it—which, frankly, you should have been preparing yourself for from the day you realized that your hiking heart bpm whenever chan was sitting a little too close was not exactly a normal reaction between friends.

��yeah,” you barely managed to quip a reply, setting your half-empty paper cup on the coffee table across the tan leather couch before chan could send another unwarranted hit on your poor heart. “i mean, didn’t you have a few relationships before?”

well fuck—now he’s going to elaborate, isn’t he. good job, dumbass.

sometimes you wonder why you’re trying so hard to be a good friend when you do realize it will only further tighten the chains wrapped around your chest. does bambam have some alcohol in the fridge? also, where the fuck is he?

“fair point,” a long sigh escaped his lungs as chan fully leaned onto bambam’s ridiculously large sofa, eyes tracing whatever interesting shape he could find on the ceiling of their still-missing friend’s apartment, “but i wonder if those feelings were actually… love, you know? not merely infatuation?”

“i don’t, actually,” you playfully snickered, hoping the faint smile on your lips would help in numbing the dull ache spreading on your chest. “i mean, as far as my experience goes, i think it has always been love for me.”

“and how does that feel?”

“how?” the faint urgency in his voice pulled your line of gaze towards chan—unexpectedly meeting his pair of curious brown eyes, and you sighed. are you really going to say it?

you were preparing a joke, really. deflecting, avoiding his question, all that thing.

you really were.

and you know, with every part of your bones, you’re probably going to regret this.

“uh, well, it feels like…”

the butterflies when i see your name lit up my phone screen.

the odd twist in the pit of my stomach when i hear you talk about that new friend you made and how you thought they were beautiful.

the way my lips followed yours into a smile when you excitedly told me about a new song idea and how spring flooded my chest when you said it’s our little secret.

the sudden void when you told me you asked that new friend of yours to go out for dinner, and how my heart went numb when you brightly exclaimed that it would technically count as a first date.

an excruciatingly long roller coaster of emotions,

an endless hike under the scorching summer sun,

a long night staring at where the waves breaks,

and yet…

“it was home.”

“…home?”

“yeah,” you shrugged, fingers hiding inside the sleeves of your hoodie while you pull your knees closer to your chest, “home.”

“it’s everything that is good, everything that’s not quite there, and yet you can’t help but find yourself longing for every piece of it. you accept that it’s not going to be perfect and never will be, and yet you’re still willing to continuously nurture that feeling because, well, you love them, and even if it eventually didn’t work out… you’d still think it’s worth the effort to try.”

you don’t know what the silence between you now meant.

you don’t know, and probably would never want to find out.

you’d hate to know who he thinks about when he opens his mouth,

and you’d forever thank bambam for his impeccable timing with bags full of thai foods in his hand.

©️ astralisortus, 2024. | likes and reblogs are highly appreciated♡

[binniesbooks]

• OFFICE WORKS

TXT 019 .F05 2024

wc 0.5k

pairings workmate!TXT x officeworker!reader

warnings smut

faye's note hard thoughts for our boys, while you guys are waiting for my upcoming fics! Hehe. Sorry for being super busyyy :<

CHOI YEONJUN

- His aura screams team leader-- who fucks every girl from your department. Totally the manwhore type of guy. He would force you to do overtime, only to have you bended on your desk, balls deep inside you.

"I know and I can see you how you look at me, baby."

"The rumors? Hmm, what do you think?"

"Fuck, I really love untouched women like you."

"Shit, you're so tight."

"Haven't felt such a good pussy for a long time."

"Damn, your pussy feels better than (insert co-workers name)."

"Should've done this a lot earlier, shit you're so fucking good!"

CHOI SOOBIN

- The pervert desk mate. Yes. He loves peeking when your skirt hikes up a little. Gets hard whenever he sees you walking towards your desk. Often fantasizes about groping your ass and fucking your breast. Carefully and silently palms himself whenever you're too immersed on your work. Would masturbate imagining you after arriving home, still on his office attire. Offers you a "water" to sober up one time after volunteering to take you home after a team dinner. A total pussy drunk once he got his dick wet.

"Ah, fuck, I really wanted to feel you."

"Please, one chance Y/n."

"Fuck, you're so hot."

"My hand perfectly fits on your breast, I think they're made for me."

"Can i fuck your tits, pretty please?"

"You're so good, pussy so good."

"Please let me cum inside you."

"I'll take full responsibility, please."

CHOI BEOMGYU

- Another workmate, your rival for your aimed position. He loves teasing you and getting into your nerves. Would purposely knock your coffee over your paper works. Often makes a bet with you.

"I didn't mean it, it's just an accident."

"If you make me cum, I'll withdraw, if you cum first, you need to withdraw from the position."

"Fuck, wait fuck!"

"Shit! Shit! M-move! Fuck!"

"Ahh! Fuck you."

KANG TAEHYUN

- The boss. Bossy. Bitch. Whatever it is. He loves commanding you. Loves to use you when he's stressed out. Fucks you like there's no tomorrow whenever he is angry. Please scratch his back with your nails, he loves it.

"Fuck them! Fuck them all!"

"God, they don't have any single idea about what's going on and they judge as if they know everything--- you're so fucking tight!"

"Get on your knees, I'm stressed."

"Do they even know how I made it up here?"

"Stop moving and complaining! I don't fucking care if it hurts already! I'm not yet done!"

HEUNING KAI

- He is just a cute intern. The one who loves to get your attention by asking work related questions which he clearly knows already. Would blush and get hard from the slightest touch, like when you tap his shoulder to try and cheer him up or when you intertwined your arms on his while happily telling him a story. And one day, he just traps you inside the rest room and practically begs you to jack him off.

"Please? I just need you."

"I promise, I'll behave."

"Please, please please."

"Mmpph! N-no I'm not noisy."

"Oh, fuck m-more."

"S-stop now, s-stop."

@binniesbooks 2024

[the-ace-with-spades]

(another unfinished post i found on the way to glasgow - that was the longest train ride in my life - I'm sorry in advance)

When Ice finally passes away, at the age of 73, in his sleep, Bradley moves Mav into their house the same day.

He gets the call in the morning, while trying to simultaneously cook Jake's breakfast and try to make their daughter put on a rain jacket. It's not Mav, but someone from the hospital. Jake doesn't know this — Bradley's face twitches only for a second and then he's back to the nagging, relaxing tone and telling their daughter it's raining and it won't stop. Jake only finds out when he comes back home from the school drop-off and Mav is already there on their couch. Jake doesn't even get the full explanation until that night, just a quick, "Ice passed away overnight."

There's only their three youngest living with them at the time — their 18-year-old daughter who attends UC San Diego, and their 15-year-old son who is still in high school, and their 7-year-old daughter — so Mav takes one of the vacant bedrooms.

The first few nights, Bradley sleeps in the same bed with him. Neither of them looks like they get much sleep. They don't really eat, either, just drink coffee and nibble on the crackers.

The kids start coming back home, and their oldest helps Jake arrange most of the things for the funeral, at least for the first few days. Mav is... numb, not really there, and Jake understands — he would, too, if he woke up one day and his husband died in his sleep next to him. Bradley is silent, mostly, the way he usually rambles to fill out the silence, the way he hums, the way he sings at any given time when there are no words spoken, it's all gone and Jake doesn't know how to fill out the silence either, how to ask, how to make it better without asking.

Bradley doesn't cry, or at least not the way he knows Mav does — he can see Mav's red eyes every morning — but there's something empty in his gaze, in the way his eyes follow Mav and in the way he melts whenever Mav is around, always close, always brushing against him. Mav spaces out a lot, doesn't talk much, doesn't—well, doesn't do much. Every time he tries to help with something, paperwork, the funeral arrangements, the hospital bills, even just sorting out the kids' school leave or Jake's own work leave, he fumbles a bit, not really able to focus on anything for long, and it's like his mind is completely scrambled. Jake doesn't know how to help him — doesn't know if they even can.

The kids, well, did not take it well, as expected. The oldest two try to be brave and help Jake with everything, keep the house going, but their youngest daughter doesn't really understand why her pops isn't back, the middle kids don't understand why now — Ice was in remission, in good health, would go hiking with them once a month, play with them in the backyard, talking about plans for the future with them, nothing that would tell them to expect their pops passing away. Mav and Ice had taken care of all of them for years, while Jake and Bradley were still deployable, and helping out as much as they could. Ice was a huge part of their lives, since the very beginning.

Bradley is certainly not doing any better but one couldn't be able to tell if they didn't know him well enough. He's always been more for packing his feelings into a tight neat box, compartmentalizing until there is too much and it all overflows in some explosive way. His focus is mostly on Mav and the kids, trusting Jake to take care of anything he can't.

Jake can't even ask him how he's doing until the night before the funeral.

Mav tells Bradley he wants to be alone that night and Bradley lands in their bedroom.

He acts normal — checks the kids are in bed, checks on Mav, prepares stuff for breakfast in the morning, has a shower. Only when he sits down in their bed, their dress blues, cleaned and pressed sitting on the hangers hooked up on their wardrobe, right in front of him—only then he freezes, a blank stare still on the uniforms.

Jake sits down next to him on the bed. "Talk to me, Bradley."

"I knew it was going to happen at some point, I just," "I just thought we would have a few more years."

Bradley sleeps curled up on his chest — he sleeps the whole night, soundlessly, and Jake is almost settled.

Almost. Mav is a couple doors down, alone.

Ice's been—had been retired many years now, but he had been high enough in the ranks that the Navy still insists on making a military funeral. Jake tried to take away as much of the flashy bullshit as possible, but there are still things leftover — the sailors with the flag, the flyover. But there's no one who wasn't close with the family at the ceremony, there's no speeches, and no one tries to hand either Mav or Bradley a flag.

The wake has an even smaller amount of people, all packed in their house — Mav hasn't been at his own house since — and thanks to Slider, mostly, and his 'the bastard wouldn't want us to mope around', it's less sad and quiet.

Mav eats two slices of cake, which is the most Jake's seen him eat since, and even laughs at some stories about Ice people are exchanging.

Ice had a good life. A big family. A big happy family that loved him.

But life goes on without him. Jake goes back to work first, then the kids have to go back to school, then Bradley has to back to work. After a couple of days alone at their house, Mav starts bringing up moving back to his own house.

He's not really doing great. He's still quiet, still spaces out more often than not, still forgets himself sometimes, still freezes whenever he tries to say something and the we he uses is one person short. He's—lifeless, for a lack of better word, and seems like he's noticing it now that Bradley isn't with him most of the waking hours.

"That is our home," Mav tells them. "I can't abandon it forever, I'd be abandoning him, too, if I—"

Jake—Jake gets it. He doesn't like it, but he gets it.

Bradley's been fielding off any suggestions of Mav moving out but he's pretty sure that soon Mav is going to pack his stuff and up and leave without asking for permission.

"If he wants to move back home, we can't exactly hold him here. against his will."

"Jake," Bradley says. "I feel like—if we let Mav go back there alone, he's going to die of a broken heart and I won't have either of them anymore."

"Sweetheart—"

"I know it's selfish," he interrupts, "but I can't lose him, too. Not now."

Jake can't make Mav stay with them — so he finds the best solution he can and instead, they all move in with Mav. Hell with it, he's going to try to get everyone to live their lives to the end. They'd done it before, Mav, Ice, Bradley, Jake and their two kids under one roof, when their oldest two were their only two kids.

The two of them and two of their youngest; two of their kids move into their house so they don't have to sell it.

Mav lives on. They try to occupy his mind by throwing their youngest at him — ask him to take her to school, pick her up from school, take her to her gymnastics class, do her homework with her, teach her how to play piano. The other kids pick up on it, too, and their high schoolers would wrap Mav into doing math workbooks with them, or ask him to drive them to their friends' house, and the kids that have moved out ask Mav to go to lunch together or call him to ask him things about car and house repairs that don't exist.

Mav gets brighter every day. Never as bright as before, but no longer so numb.

Their daughter ends up never moving out and so do they.

They all get older but Mav holds up pretty well. He does break his hip when trying to wash the windows, had a limp and terrible back ache ever since, had to stop driving because he can't see shit, had to stop piloting even sooner, and his memory is also shit, but Jake is pretty sure his cholesterol is lower than his own and he has better blood pressure than Bradley. Bradley and Mav are the ones cooking after all, Jake is the one eating all the tasty but not healthiest food, and Mav's life revolves around spoiling his cute great-grandkids and Bradley's is filled with the constant stress of managing Navy's top flying school.

For his ninetieth birthday, Mav flies a fighter jet as a passenger, the oldest person to ever do that — his youngest granddaughter is the one to take him up in the air, a junior grade lieutenant herself. They have a birthday party held at their house, Mav falls asleep in the armchair, Bradley makes fun of him and promptly falls asleep on the couch, too. Jake loves them both so much and still kind of can't believe he has this — house full of grown-up kids and grandkids of his own, his graying husband of over thirty years, his father-in-law coming to an age he wanted to see his mother at.

They're cleaning up, their two daughters who still don't have kids and didn't need to go home helping, and Mav tells them he's going to get some fresh air on their veranda. "I've got a terrible headache," is all he says.

Half an hour passes, they've packed all the clean and dirty dishes, and Bradley huffs to himself. "He fell asleep on the bench again, didn't he," and goes outside.

Bradley shouts for him in less than a minute. The ambulance is there in eight. Within the half-hour and a CT scan in the hospital, the neurologist tells them Mav is too far gone to survive the day. Within six hours, every single person from their family has come to say goodbye. When they pass the seven hours mark, Jake stands up from the plastic chair behind Bradley — he's not about to tell Bradley he should rest, but he's been holding Mav's hand since the minute they admitted Mav to the ward and hasn't eaten or drunk anything all day. He tells him he'll go grab them a coffee and bagels and gets a little nod and a smile.

Jake comes back twenty minutes later and Bradley doesn't even look up from where he's gripping Mav's hand.

"Can you get the nurse for me?"

[wyvernest]

honeymoon love

previous parts - (part 1) (part 2)

pairing: miguel o'hara x wife!reader

warnings: smut, fluff, unprotected piv, creampie, breeding kink, talks of pregnancy

summary: with the opportunity of a surprise, miguel makes the most of your honeymoon

“Te amo. Tu eres mi alma”, he kisses below your temple, “mi corazón-”, he moves to your jaw and right below it, “-mi vida.”

He licks at your neck, kissing the sensitive skin with insistence, pressing himself closer to you.

“Y siempre lo serás.”

"Miguel", you manage to speak, placing the name upon a breathy, calm moan.

"I love you, Miguel. You make me so happy."

He stops in his tracks, raising his head and hoping to catch the look on your face immediately after the words left your mouth.

He's all you see, all you hear, all you smell; under the thin makeshift shelter of the bedsheet.

The proximity shrouds all your senses, intoxicating you with his low voice, the scent of cologne on his feverish skin, the stirring look in his eyes that renders you irrevocably vulnerable, willing to submit to anything he has in mind.

He replies with a peck on your cheek, full of love and sincere fondness. Your eyes meet for a quick second before you both lean in to catch each other's lips in a searing kiss, tongues slowly intertwining, a dance you know all too well.

You feel the shy beginning of a stubble graze your cheek while you make out in the comfort of the clean, cotton white sheets, and you yearn to feel more.

Your hands wander over his firm pecs, settling on his huge shoulders, palming at the muscles before hiking higher to hold the back of his head. Your fingers massage his scalp, his dark chestnut hair silky soft under your touch.

"You're always so good to me." he praises, honest and infinitely affectionate. He inhales sharply, as if meaning to continue, but he stops, muffling whatever confessions were about to exit his mouth with another kiss.

His hot palm wraps perfectly around your breast, as if you were made for him. He massages the soft tit, eliciting a whimper out of you.

"Go on, say it.", you manage to dare him.

"Say what?" he looks, at the very least, caught off guard.

"What you were thinking, just now. Tell me."

He groans in defeat, nestling his face in the crook of your neck, not missing the opportunity to kiss the over-reactive skin one more time before speaking.

"I want you to be the mother of my children.", he stops for a moment , scanning your face for any trace of doubt or hesitancy. "You're perfect, mi vida. You're all I could ever ask for, and so much more.", he attempts to urge an answer out of you. A reply. Anything.

Truth is, you have talked about children before. But whenever he would bring it up, after having seen Mayday on a casual weekend, or after having noticed you stare just a little longer at the baby aisle when shopping, you would brush it off with a fearful smile, saying that "when the time is right, it will happen".

And deep down he knew you were scared. Scared of the whole process. The pregnancy, the birth itself, the responsibilities and obligations that come with such a decision. But the very last thing he wanted to do was rush you, subconsciously or accidentally guilt tripping you into giving in and only accepting because of him.

He wanted you to want it too, just as much as he did.

Little did he know, the thought had been lingering on your mind for much longer than he would have fathomed. Every day, the fever got stronger and stronger. Everyday, the doubts and questions diluted more and more into 'I trust him enough to be sure that we'll figure it out on the way.'

And finally face to face with another one of his voiced desires, you feel the enthusiasm bubble in your heart.

"Miguel."

He raises a questioning brow, attentive and focused as if ready to pounce.

"Put a baby in me." You squirm into his embrace, your feet protruding through the white veil cocooning you as you squeeze your legs around his waist. Intimacy, my ass, you mentally joke to yourself. Anyone ski jetting by would know exactly what you were doing only judging by the position of your legs, obvious even through the cover.

But who even cares about that,

when he's on top of you, asking you to carry his babies.

Asking you to give him a child.

You watch his pupils dilate, a familiar red glow taking over his vision as he evidently loses his mind right in front of you over your admission.

You lose count of the swarm of feelings flashing across his face in a timespan of a few seconds.

"I wasn't joking." He forcibly chuckles at the end of the warning, wanting you not to feel in the least bit intimidated or pressured.

"I wasn't either." You're quick to reassure him, brushing a wild strand of hair from his face.

He almost can't believe it.

His brain is short-circuiting.

But before he can ask again, because you know him well enough to tell that he was going to, you pull him into another kiss, more violent, more powerful. One of the kisses you give him when he's back from a long mission, tired and bitter, when you've missed him for so long you could've sworn you'd go insane if you had to stay one more second without him by your side.

He returns the same need, taking the chance and slipping one hand in between you, pulling your summer skirt down your thighs along with your soaked panties.

You shudder at the feeling of his warm hand so close to your core, your body reacting before you could fully process what is about to happen.

With a gasp, you break apart to breathe as the precum-stained head of his cock comes in contact with your cunt, threatening to breach you.

You feel its generous length drag along through your folds. Even with impatience heavy in the air, he carefully prepares you for him. He knows you’re fragile, he knows it's difficult for you to take all of him, and for whatever self-control he has left, he wants to make it well worth it.

Your brows crease in slight pain as he pushes in with a groan, feeling the wet heat of your pussy swallow him inch by agonising inch.

Through barely open eyes, you see him stare down at you.

A horde of fantasies are running wild in his head, but his lust-addled brain stops at one, one that has him nearly drooling on the spot.

He sees you, finally pregnant, breasts overflowing with milk, in a delicate yet flimsy summer dress that flaunts everything that makes you so beautiful to him, everything about you that makes you, you.

Nothing less than a goddess.

But most of all, he sees you by his side.

An arm hooked around his, proud to call him the father of your child.

By his side, for everyone to see. To see that you're his.

He lunges forward with no warning, his hips colliding with the soft flesh of your ass. Strong hands curling around your waist with a bruising grip, he starts making love to you. Avoiding a steady pace, he delivers deep, fast thrusts before drifting into slow, dragged out strokes, only to resume the rough ones again.

It's torture, yet you're drowning in pleasure.

You feel every ridge and vein of his cock, the tip brushing against weak spots you didn't know you had with every drive of his body into yours.

He knows he won't last, yet he wants to prolong your pleasure for as much as he can.

His head falls back into the crook of your neck, hot, shallow pants puffing onto your flushed skin. He groans in pure bliss, the intensity of his feelings nearly pushing him over the edge prematurely. You moan his name, hands travelling over his back and into his hair, not aiding him in his struggle to last longer.

"Te amo. Te amo tanto." (I love you. I love you so much) He begins, grunting in your ear, offering you the deepest of his thoughts in the most vulnerable point he had gotten, "No puedo - ugh, no puedo vivir sin ti." (I can't live without you.)

You can't do anything but whine broken fragments of his name, hoping that he'll catch on to the fact that you're so deep in raw pleasure that any coherent thought would mean ripping yourself apart from the euphoria.

"No puedo respirar sin ti." (I can't breathe without you). He rasps low as you flutter around him, earning yourself a strangled moan from the man on top of you.

"Ah, mierda-", He starts to lose his rhythm, the bed creaking under every thrust of his fat cock into your tight heat.

Your blurred attention falls upon his biceps, impossibly big compared to your meagre shape underneath him, flexing by your sides each time his abdomen undulates to drive his dick into you.

You feel claimed. Owned. In the best ways possible.

But most of all, you feel loved.

Suddenly, you feel him stagger, arms flexing hard, his whole body going rigid against you as a low groan shatters in your ears. Through your climatic haziness, you feel his dick twitching inside your walls as he comes. You can’t help the whine it squeezes out of you, the symphony of your pleasured screams compromising whatever secrecy you could have hoped for.

He lets himself collapse on top of you, knowing that the comfort of his body weight on you gifts you an extra feeling of intimacy every time he can't help but try to catch his breath, face pressed snugly into your neck.

You turn your head, coming down from your own high, kissing his forehead, caressing his back with the one hand you managed to squeeze out from under him.

"You make me the happiest I've ever been." he mumbles, defenceless and open.

And you swear you haven't ever been happier yourself.

[chaosandmarigolds]

peaches, I have an amazing idea:

Simon Riley and his wife take the kid(kids) on holiday to Scottland, years into retirement to visit Johnny in the Highlands!!!

would that be so cute? All the kiddos running around while Johnny, Simon, and Reader (maybe Johnnys partner idk!!) all sitting by the moores, finally enjoying life??

Ugh

(THATS FREAKING ADORABLE AH)

And if it was Tf141!Reader, like dude-

It would be a long planned trip, reunion type of trip where everyone and their respective families were coming down and after much convincing Johnny had told them that he would be the perfect middle. And shockingly, he wasn't wrong.

Simon made sure the youngest was old enough to fly, so she was about eight months old, and he thought flying would be the easy part! No. The oldest is running down the loading docks with his toy airplane, the middle is griping that they weren't able to get breakfast before the flight and the youngest who is normally so sweet and so quiet, is sobbing with no sign of stopping.

So he as to break out the lieutenant voice, nothing compared to what it actually was but it was stern enough that it made the older two straighten up.

And everyone would've been so excited to see you both, and don't tell Simon but you have a video of that grown man almost jumping out of the Taxi

Simon and Johnny would've spent the entire evening by the grill, watching the football match on the little TV he has out there while Kyle and John would made small talk with you and Juliet

Sometimes you would forget that Juliet was actually apart of the team, a RN assigned during longer ops-

"Wait so how did you meet Liza, Captain?" You then say after a joke was made about how Simon and Johnny had their soulmates handed to them.

John shrugged, "Highschool."

To that your seven-year-old looks up from their game of poker, (something you very hesitantly allowed), "That's so old!"

"Nah," John said to the boy, "One day you'll meet someone an' then you'll be married." He chuckled as the boy grimaced.

Most of the trip would be spent with Johnny showing everyone his favorite spots, a few hikes, but nothing crazy- as an equal amount was spent lounging around.

Kyle taught the kids just about every card game in existence during that time.

John spent about twenty minutes scolding the team for standing at attention whenever he walked into the room saying it didn't matter if they were "not really at attention' because he was still retired and he didn't like the idea of accidentally traumatizing them

Simon and Johnny who spent their days teasing the other- therapy having done them both good over the years.

Johnny who broke serval laws when he shot fireworks out to celebrate Simon's birthday (yes he did plan that)

(ps Juliet did know that everyone was coming because Johnny did not shut up about it for about four months prior)

(annnn yea thats all i got! Hope you like it! <3)

[h3avens4ngel]

𝐉𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐲

𝟏𝟖+ | 𝐒𝐦𝐮𝐭 | 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫-𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐒𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐆𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: bratty Steven, jealousy, pussy eating! Face eating, switch Steven, slightly argument, reader slightly insecure about not showering after work, pussy fiend Steven, kissing, language, pet names (love, honey, sweet girl, sweetheart, perfect girl), mentions of Jake

Steven was so possessive at times. He hated whenever another man went up and flirted with you during your shifts. He’d scoff to himself and death glare the men, trying to look as intimidating as he could, yet protesting whenever Jake said he could take care of it.

Today was one of those days. You came home later than Steven, the museum had you doing some late shifts and Steven got the earlier shifts. “Hi baby” you bubbly smiled as you locked the door to Steven’s flat.

You turned around looking for Steven and getting a little taken aback to see Steven sitting on the couch with a bothered look on his face. “You ok?”

Steven didn’t answer, all he did was nod. You knew that meant no. “What’s the matter Steven” you worriedly hurried toward him, sitting next to him and fully facing him. “Nothing love” he muttered in a semi whiney tone.

“Steven what’s wrong” you sigh “nothing! Nothing at all. You seem to be occupied already” he hissed in a brattish tone “huh?” You raised an eyebrow at his words, occupied? With what?

“My job? Steven you know I can’t control the shifts they give me” you sigh, leaning into his shoulder and kissing his jaw “I’m not talking about your shifts!” He yells.

“What the hell Steven? I can’t read your mind!” You reply back in the same tone “that damn new guy pfft. With his stupid American accent ‘how are you today’ oh how he loves to talk” Steven muttered.

You tried not to laugh at Steven’s American accent, cute. “You’re jealous” you chuckled. Stevens cheeks turned a light shade of pink as you smiled over at him “you don’t need to be jealous Steven, I love you and only you. You know that already don’t you?” you cooed.

“I- I’m not jealous”

“Mmhm” you giggled. Steven was cute when he was all flustered and embarrassed, he was SO jealous. How adorable.

Steven’s breath hitched as you straddled him, pushing him back onto the couch and running your hands through his curly locks “look at me” you whispered.

Steven stared up at you puppy eyed and flushed “I only want you, only you Steven. I couldn’t ask for a better boyfriend than you” you hummed. Your lips softly pressed kisses onto his lips and down his neck “you’re all I could ever ask for Steven”

His hands were on his sides and head thrown back as you began to make your way back up to his mouth “I’m sorry” he whined. His hands shakily moved up to your hips “I- I was being a bit harsh” He quietly admitted.

You chuckled, nodding at his change in demeanor as he lowered his head and began to apology kiss all over you neck. “You were” you agreed.

Steven whined in response, feeling guilty, he was determined to make it up to you. “I’m sorry honey, I’m so so sorry.” He whispered, his lips pressing soft kisses and hands trembling as he hiked your skirt up.

“Let me give you one part of my apology sweetheart? You’re always nothing but sweet my perfect girl. But I let my thoughts get the best of me yeah?” He softly smiled. “Jealousy looks cute on you” you tease, a moan spilling from his pretty plump lips as you began to grind onto his lap.

“Let me make it up to you love?” He muttered, his mouth in agar as he tried to keep himself calm. “Of course” you hummed.

And with that Steven gently pushed you onto the couch, his hands exploring your body while trying to contain himself. “Fucking hell” he hissed after one look at how soaked your pretty lace panties were. Steven gawked at the way you were all gushy and sticky for him already.

As one of his fingers feasibly pulled past your panties and ran down you folds, Steven let out an audible moan. You were expecting a good fucking but once you saw Steven lick his lips, you got a little worried.

Sure you loved when he ate you out like it was the last meal he’ll ever get but you had been working all day you felt like that wasn’t the best choice.

Steven eagerly tugged your panties down and lowering himself down to your cunt “Steven I haven’t showered yet not th-“ you tried to protest but before you could finish your sentence he shushed you and muttered an I could care less.

You gasped as his soft tongue lapped at your puffy folds as he carelessly pulled you onto his mouth. It was so overwhelming feeling Steven buried between your thighs but he felt like it wasn’t enough. He wanted more, wanted to feel you completely immersed in him.

He pulled back hastily, pulling you up and taking your position as he lightly manhandled you. You were in complete shock at how easily he could lift you up and carelessly mold you into place. Steven was never usually this bold.

“Sit on my face lovey, come on honey” he whined as you sat up on his lap. You stared at him in shock but didn’t dare to not comply “I- yea- ok” you muttered. For the first time, you were the one stuttering, not him.

Steven tried to hide his smile but it was no use, he motion you up and yanked you forward the second you started scooting forward.

Steven felt like a jerk and a complete idiot for letting his worries and insecurities all out on you. He felt like it was a little unfair to eat you out as an apology since it was certainly no punishment for him.

You chuckled as Steven eagerly wrapped his arms around your thighs, salivating at the sight of your pussy “oh fu-“ you gasped as he pulled you onto his face, a loud moaning coaxing out of him as you sink onto his mouth.

You try and lift yourself up for his comfort but to his protest, he groans and sinks his nails in your thighs “sit f’me” he mumbled into you pussy. Steven was getting needier by the second, the taste of your natural scent mixed with delicious slick coating his tongue was overwhelming.

His hips thrusted subconsciously into the air, his whines and moans growing in intensity as you pulled at his pretty brown hair “stevennn oh my go-“ you shakily squealed, a high pitch moan filling his ears as you began to throb in his mouth.

He could feel your poor throbbing clit against his tongue encouraging him to lap and swirl his tongue at what was his “mine, al- all mine mmhmm” he panted. Steven messily ate you out as he watched you begin to shake above him.

You were in shock by the way he had you in his grip, he wasn’t going to let go until he showed you how sorry he was. The feeling of his soft wet tongue expertly swirling around your clit was something you could never get tired of, neither of you could.

“I- I’m gonna I- Steven oh fuckk” you gasped as you slumped forward. His moans grew even louder as you pushed deeper into him. All you could hear was muffled whines and moans as he began rubbing his hips against the cushion for some friction, hoping his pants would tug on his painfully hard boner.

Steven let out a loud moan as he came into his boxers, his loads coating and messily seeping through his thin boxers. You softly sat yourself back into his lap, letting him ride out his orgasm and encourage him as you softly grind onto him.

Steven looked so pretty like this, eyes squeezed shut as he threw his head back in bliss. He was panting and whining as he came down from his orgasm “I love you so much, my sweet girl.”

[deedeeznoots]

You’re? Correction! I’m Yours 

➺ Characters: Ryomen Sukuna, GN!Reader 

➺ Word Count: 900+ 

➺ Genre: Fluff

➺ Content: Non-Curse!AU, Nerd!Sukuna, Established Relationship (with some pre-relationship sprinkled in), Swearing

➺ A/N: Shout out to my wonderful mutual @heian-era-housewife for this post about Heian Era Sukuna doing poetry. If she’s reading this: I hope you don’t mind the tag but your post seriously inspired a huge chunk of these headcanons 🥹

➺ Synopsis: Headcanons of all the nerdy things Sukuna does because deep down inside that’s all he is and all he wishes to be ❤️

➺ At first glance he doesn’t read as someone who would be super nerdy or all that interested in learning. 

➺ I mean, can you blame anyone? No one really expects the dude constantly looking for a fight to pull up with some textbooks during his free time.

➺ Once you get to know him though, you realize that on the inside he is in fact a giant nerd about basically everything.

➺ It starts off subtly: at first you’d ask him questions and he’d be able to easily come up with answers without even giving it a second thought.

➺It could be a question about anything, regardless of the subject or perceived difficulty, and Sukuna would be able to explain it to you. Not only that, but he’d be able to explain it to you in a way that made it sound like the simplest thing in the world. 

➺ At one point you basically just started playing trivia and just started asking him stuff normal people didn’t know the answers for and he’d answer with ease, albeit he’d get really annoyed with your constant random questions.

➺ Sometimes if he’s really excited about a subject his explanations would turn into full lectures that’d put most college professors to shame.

➺ Although it was shocking at first, it started to make sense when you realized that the main reason why he takes time to learn about stuff is because he’s constantly bored and looking for new things to entertain him.

➺ He’s good at basically everything so long as it piques his curiosity, but his one and only love will forever be literature, mostly because of how infinite the possibilities are with the medium.

➺ He’s well versed in literature of all genres and different cultures, but he is the most drawn toward Japanese works (and let’s be honest, his favorites would probably come from the Heian Period).

➺ Ever since getting with you, he’s been leaning more toward the romance genre. Just in case he needs any inspiration on how to spice up your relationship, you know? 

➺ He’s taught himself multiple languages just for fun and to see how far he could go.

➺ He LOVES poetry, he both writes and reads it a lot and it’s his favorite hobby besides eating.

➺ Other than literature, he also has a huge fascination with art.

➺ He designed his own tattoos because he wanted to play with the idea of turning his body into a canvas. It also just so happened to make him look intimidating as hell which was a plus in his book.

➺ He also has a little journal that he carries around and he sketches a lot whenever he’s bored or sees something interesting.

➺ As for styles, he’s a really big fan of Sumi-e painting because he’s allergic to color but he basically just uses and does whatever he feels like at the moment. 

➺ He’s the type of person who draws what he sees, but he would especially enjoy drawing nature. 

➺ He would go out on hikes whenever he felt the need to draw and would walk until he found something interesting. 

➺ He’s really into meditation while he draws and he uses sketching as a way to keep himself level headed during particularly annoying days.

➺ He isn’t too fond of drawing people, but you’d be the exception. 

➺ He would 1000% draw you while you sleep. It’s the perfect time since you’d be still for most of it. 

➺ Sukuna is able to write really good cursive and also does calligraphy because he got bored one time (shocker) and so decided to see if he was able to do it well and to no one’s surprise, he was eventually able to.

➺ The reason why he leans towards the humanities so much is because they’re both subjects no one can really “master”. With both art and literature, there isn’t a point where someone knows absolutely everything about either subject. Since Sukuna loves a challenge, he wants to be the first person to go “Fuck you, I DO know everything about this”.

➺ One of the little things he does every day includes writing you short little romantic poems on a post it note and leaving them in out random spots for you to find. 

➺ Sometimes they would be in your pocket or other times on the bathroom mirror, wherever it is they would make you smile. 

➺ Though, sometimes he would stick them onto such odd spots that you’d wonder just how he did it?

➺ He has TONS of pride in his writing (to be fair, he’s prideful about basically anything he does) and he always appreciates it when you mention his little notes and complement the work he put into writing them.

➺ Sometimes when the both of you are talking together he’d say some of the most poetic sentences that you’ve ever heard like it’s nothing. 

➺ When you gasp he just goes “What? Why are you staring at me like that?” as if he didn’t randomly drop lines that sounded like they came from straight out of a novel.

➺ He’s a dick when it comes to spelling and grammar, especially during petty arguments.

➺ “How many times do I have to tell you, if your going to the restroom put the damn seat down afterwards” ➺ “It’s YOU’RE*, actually” ➺ “Fine, YOU'RE** a piece of shit Ryomen!”

➺ Don’t fret though, because while Ryomen Sukuna wants to know anything and everything there is to know about the world, he knows deep down inside that the best thing the world could have ever offered him was you.

-

➺ Edit: Okay I made this story quite a while ago but I HAVE ANOTHER HEADCANON TO ADD! I think his observation skills are super on point which is how he’s able to understand things so easily

A/N: Everyone list what you think Sukuna’s favorite book(s) would be 🗣️

A/N: If you enjoyed my thoughts on Sukuna, you’d love this story I also wrote paired with some headcanons! 

[azsazz]

Brains and Bravado

Kinktober Day 12: Dorian x Reader [Hate-Fucking]

Summary: Anon Req: For kinktober I would like to see either Rowan or Dorian! Maybe reader doesn’t get along with him but they have hate sex a lot and secretly like each other, however, they’re too stubborn (their pride) to admit it. Thank you for writing so many amazing fics for us, I’m excited for kinktober!👻

Based off of the previous ask of Dark Academia!Dorian

Warnings: Smut

Word Count: 3,944

Notes: You'll know the part I yearn for when you read it 😏 the rest is sort of meh

_________________________________________

You dislike Dorian Havilliard very much.

It doesn’t matter that he’s the son to the king or that his best friend is a lord-turned-captain-of-the-royal-guard. Here, he’s just Dorian, an annoying pain-in-the-ass know-it-all that you’ve sworn to demolish with your good grades.

Unfortunately, Dorian is as smart with his head as he is with that tongue.

It’s said tongue of his that always gets him out of trouble. The professors love him, eat up any excuse to fall into his good graces, whether it’s passing him with flying colors or allowing him extra special office hours whenever he should come calling. 

It’s not only the teachers who fall for the boy who makes the ugly, pristinely-pressed uniform look way too good. Everyone laughs at his jokes, flounders over his words even when they have no meaning at all. Girls and boys alike fall to his feet at the charming ways he speaks to them, looks at them, flirtatious to the bone.

You aren’t like that. Intelligent, yes, but your lips don’t curve around your words like Dorian’s do. They are his long-time lover, held near and dear and are cared for. He speaks like an age-old poem, like he’d been an esteemed author in a past life, the way they flow so easily for him. 

No, you can write beautiful sentences, transform letters into works of art, ones that bring tears to the eyes of the beholder, but it’s speaking eloquently that always trips you up. You lack the emotion, the confidence, to really make your words ring true.

The laughter and easiness of the hall seems to dwindle into a silence that only Dorian himself can evoke, and you turn from gathering the textbooks you’ll need for the afternoon to watch. You don’t want to, but for some reason you’re as drawn to him as the rest of the crowd is.

Dorian’s sapphire eyes stir something in your chest, even more so when they flicker down your body and that little smirk appears, the one he knows pisses you off to no end. Your stare turns into a molten glare at that look, and the feeling coursing through your veins must be a hot hatred for the boy striding down the damned halls like he owns the place.

Chaol trails Dorian down the hall like an esteemed purebred, waiting for a treat. He had the glare of a bloodhound too, but it doesn’t do much to ward off the flirtatious glares the prince is receiving. There hasn’t been a single time all year that you’ve seen them apart. They’re even in all of the same classes for Mother’s sake.

That look makes you want to squirm, to claw his eyes out. What a privilege it must be, to be the king’s son, you think, slamming your locker shut with a loud clang and spinning on your heel, stalking down the hall to your next class.

One of the ones that Dorian’s in.

Thankfully, he stops to ogle some girls who’ve hiked their uniform skirts up to their eyes at the appearance of the prince. Chaol, ever the mindful guard, stops with them.

You can feel those gemstone eyes following you down the hall. Of course, everything that Dorian sees in you is only surface level. He doesn’t know your background or the fact that you’d been kept at school over the summer because your parents couldn’t afford for you to come home, all while he was living it up in the lavish palace he calls home.

He doesn’t know that late at night you sneak out of your rooms and into the library. There’s a hidden door in there, tucked away within the vast stacks of a history so ancient, that it makes you shudder to even glance at. You haven’t found the courage to step foot down that particular aisle of books because the raw power in the air makes the hair on your arms stand tall. You had made it your mission to muster the confidence to see what’s behind that door before you graduate, and plan on spending any of your free time searching for other hidden passageways within this centuries old school.

Whilst lost in the thoughts of the door in the library, you almost miss out on the entire lecture. Your professor doesn’t seem to notice because Dorian is answering all the questions she asks, and she’s wooed by his boring responses that even the dunces of the class could explain with flying colors.

By the time you’re released from class, you’ve decided to explore more of the library for hidden doors or books that give off a harrowing aura, when you slam into a wall. Not a wall, but the chest of your rival, Dorian Havilliard.

“Where are you going?” He asks, blocking you from stepping out into the hall.

You haven’t realized that the class had cleared out so quickly, and you shuffle a step backwards, trying to ignore the heat of his body and the way it had felt pressed against yours for a fleeting moment. In a burst of betrayal, that warmth converges between your thighs, and your muscles jump as you try to clench them together without his notice.

“To the library.” You don’t know why you answer, maybe because you’re thrown off by his sudden presence and lack thereof his best friend. Where is Chaol, you wonder, swallowing harshly when Dorian leans against his arm in the doorframe. He’s tall, muscular, and the shape he’s in draws your gaze down his perfect frame.

Something in those sapphire eyes flash, his mouth flattening from his smirk. “No, you’re not.”

“Yes, I am,” you argue. Who is he to tell you what you can and can’t do in your own free time? “I want to get started on the paper Professor Erawan assigned us,” you lie, thankfully remembering that tidbit from class while your mind strayed.

“Then I’ll come with you.” It’s not a suggestion.

You scoff, narrowing your eyes at him, wondering what he could possibly want from you when there are plenty of people willing to give him the attention he’s craving. Dorian straightens and waves you out of the room with a flourish of his hand.

You stare for a long moment, brows furrowed as you try to figure him out. You’re not friends, and you don’t want to be. All you really want is to beat him at his game of wits, be the first in class, and solve the mystery of what’s behind the dark door in the library. None of which needs any involvement from him.

“Please,” you roll your eyes, giving him a wide berth as you step around him into the hall. He immediately steps into line with you, and you try to ignore the way that he’s slowing his gait to stride alongside you. “You’re only coming to flirt with the librarian.”

Dorian’s grin is wolfish, “Why would I flirt with the librarian, when you’re right next to me?”

You trip over your feet at his words. Dorian catches you with a hand around your arm, steadying you. His touch is hot on your skin, and the look in his eyes is hot.

Your heart races in your chest.

Of course, Dorian has an ethereal beauty to him that anyone would consider themselves lucky to be with, but the fact that he’s flirting with you of all people, when all you’ve done all year is argue and bicker like an old married couple confuses you almost as much as the idea of the hidden door in the library.

“I don’t know why you’d flirt with me at all, actually,” you reply when you can finally find your voice. You’re being snippy, but you want the irritatingly handsome boy beside you to go away. He can find a place to stuff his cock elsewhere—you’re nowhere near as easy as the rest of the students in this school. “We don’t like each other.”

“Awe,” Dorian croons. When you glance over at him, he’s wearing a taunting smile, one that fills you with as much warmth as a cup of tea. “Who said I didn’t like you?”

Turning down the corridor to the library, it’s surely unlikely that Dorian will leave your side. You make a show of glancing around as if you’re looking for something, ignoring the way that your heart stammers in your chest at the mention that there’s a possibility he might actually enjoy your presence.

“Where is your little lap dog?”

Dorian barks out a startling laugh. He looks shocked himself, placing a hand to his chest, his cheeks pinkening as his chuckle echoes through the halls. It being the weekend, students and professors alike have fled the school buildings, more than ready to start the fun of the weekend.

You’re pretty sure that you and Dorian are the only ones left in the school.

“Chaol is on errand,” he tells you, sapphire eyes sparkling with interest. “Would you rather have him join?”

He says it like it’s a proposition, like you’d be pressed tightly between both of their bodies, like you’re not walking in through the doors into the expansive library that has more secrets than books.

You shoot Dorian a sidelong glance, your brows furrowed in confusion. He’s acting nothing like the Dorian you’re used to. Well, sure, he’s still the cocky prince you know, but the flirting is new. He’s staring ahead, like what he’s said hasn’t just thrown you completely off axis.

“Here looks good,” you mutter, sliding your books onto one of the large wooden tables lining the walls. Anything to fill the silence. It’s eerie in a building like this, stacks upon stacks of books filled with puzzles you’ve yet to piece together.

“You’re actually studying?” Dorian sounds affronted, like he can’t believe that studying is something done in a library at all. Like it’s some sort of secret brothel or a place for his conquests.

You wouldn’t put it past him.

“I told you I was going to study,” you bite, “What did you think I was going to do?”

You regret the words almost as quickly as they leave your lips.

“I thought you invited me so that you could sneak your hands down my trousers. Wear my tie around your neck while I take you over the table, perhaps?”

“I didn’t invite you at all,” you fight, but your voice is as weak as the knees you’re pressing tightly together, trying to ignore the sudden interest your cunt has in his words.

You gasp when you’re suddenly turned around, Dorian pressing in close. He’s staring down at you like you’re his favorite treat, sapphire eyes dark with interest, want, and a tinge of…hate? Annoyance, maybe, because you’re putting up much more of a fight than he’s used to.

His cock twitches at that.

“Do you want me to leave?” He asks, and the tenor of his voice rumbles deliciously against your chest. His scent is intoxicating, and you’re sure that his calloused fingers would feel just as good pressed against your skin as they are pinning your hips to the edge of the table.

Your brain must be on the fritz. Maybe you’ve stepped through that scary, looming, ancient door into another world because this cannot be happening. This isn’t Dorian.

“Why me?” you voice is quiet, a minute tremble to it that makes Dorian’s lashes flutter. He shifts on his feet, and you bite back the groan that crawls up your throat at the feeling of his hardening cock in his pants against your front. “Why now?”

He leans down to whisper in your ear, his long fingers tucking your hair tenderly behind your ear. The motion has your thighs clenching. His breath is a warm caress as he says, “Because I love it when you fight me. And I’ve had enough of keeping myself at bay. Hate me, if you must, but please let me fuck you.”

 “Yes,” you sigh, and the word is barely out of your mouth before Dorian’s lips are against yours, hot and unyielding, ravaging you completely like a predator does it prey.

His fingers clutch at your clothes, curling into the fabric in a feral sort of need that has you gasping, has your cunt weeping and lightning zipping through your veins. You chase the feeling, rolling your hips against Dorian’s.

You don’t know what’s come over you. The taste of his lips is exquisite and much sweeter than the vitriol the both of you are usually spitting at each other. His scent invades your senses—ice, ocean, magic, and musk. It consumes you as much as his presence is right now, overwhelmed by not just the primal need for you in his life but because of the strange events that have led you from loathing the boy lying you back onto the wooden table.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he pants when you arch into his body. His breath is hot, mingling with your own as you gasp for air. Dorian’s cheeks are flushed a pretty pink, matching the color of his swollen lips that he darts his tongue across, chasing your taste. His sapphire eyes are all pupil, dark and consuming and hungry for more. “Spread those pretty legs for me.”

You follow his instruction like a person cursed, thighs spreading wide for Dorian as he stands to his full height. His eyes burn a thousand fires down your body as he takes his time drinking you in, the gentle caress of his hands following the same torturous path has shivers awakening across every inch of your body.

“Dorian,” you plead, but he’s too engrossed with taking his time. His fingers curl around the waistband of your pants, flicking the button open with ease and guiding them down your legs.

“You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for this,” he admits, utterly distracted by the sight of your creamy thighs on display for him. He bites back the smirk that’s threatening to appear on his lips when you impatiently start kicking your pants down your legs with a frustrated and desperate keen. It makes his cock twitch, a bead of precum leak from the tip into the fabric of his underwear.

At the sight of your soaked panties calling to him like a siren, Dorian has to press his palm firmly against his aching cock, trying to keep himself from orgasming right now.

“How long?” you ask. Your fingers curl into the wood of the table because you need something to hold onto, and Dorian’s just out of reach. Your cheeks heat with arousal as those sapphire eyes zero in on your nipples where they’re tight and straining against your shirt. You don’t know why you feel the sudden urge to know how long he’s been thinking of you like this, why now is the time he’s finally decided to make his move, but you need to know his answer. “How long have you wanted me lying out for you like this, Dorian?”

His name sounds like heaven on your tongue, and he groans, releasing himself, his resolve snapping as he bends to take your mouth again.

You moan loudly, languidly. Dorian’s tongue brushes against yours and the feeling zips to your cunt as you imagine the feeling of his mouth sucking your clit, his tongue plunging inside of your dripping cunt like a starved male.

He hastily shoves up the fabric of your shirt, sneaking beneath the material of your bra to palm your breasts. You bury your fingers deeply into his hair, tugging on it when he tries to part from you. You didn’t know how desperately you’ve needed this—needed him—but now that his admission is out in the open and has you rethinking your dislike for the prince, you don’t want him to part from you.

“Since the first day we met,” Dorian breathes against your mouth. Your body goes slack with shock at the thought, fingers falling from his locks. Dorian doesn’t seem to notice, taking advantage of finally being free from you to mouth his way down your throat, burying his head beneath your shirt for a taste of your flesh.

You’d met Dorian years ago, on the first day of your time at school here. He was just as popular then as he is now, and just as cheeky, too. All you can recall from that day is the way how all of the other students were falling over their feet for a chance to befriend the prince. You’d wanted nothing to do with that, even when he’d stopped at your locker and tried to use his charm to get you to switch with him.

He had made a joke in poor taste, one that annoyed you enough to rebuttal with words not polite for someone of your status to say to a member of royalty, ever.

That was when you started to dislike Dorian Havilliard.

That sentiment is beginning to change, especially when he rolls one of your nipples gently between his teeth.

You cry out in pleasure, trying to grind your hips against his as you writhe beneath him on the table. Your arch, pressing your breasts into his mouth and he hums encouragingly, even more so when he hears the sound you make in response.

Dorian brushes his knuckles across your clothed cunt, reveling in how responsive you are for him when he’s barely done a thing. After this, he hopes that you won’t go back to hating him because he doesn’t think he can bear it, now that he has the taste of your engraved on his tongue.

He abandons post between your breasts, sliding his way down your body, kissing, licking, teasing every inch of skin that he can before he arrives at his desired destination. He settles himself between your legs, jerking your closer to him, your legs over his shoulders and ass leaning precariously on the edge of the table.

“Sweetheart?” he questions, and it takes effort for you to lift your head to look at him. Your body is burning with need, thighs trembling with anticipation. Your gaze is cloudy with lust and it takes you a few blinks to dispel it, giving Dorian your attention.

You scowl at the smirk gracing his lips. “What?”

“Do you still dislike me?”

Your heart thunders in your chest as you watch Dorian pull your panties to the side with long fingers that you know could hit every neglected spot inside of you. The cool air from the library breezes across your wetness along with the heat of his breath and it sends your mind into a dizziness of desire that forces you to take a moment to catch your breath.

“If I say yes?” you ask, biting your lip. Will he stop? Pretend that this was all some sort of game? A bet that he and Chaol had going on? Will he pop out from between bookshelves to laugh?

Before your mind can grasp onto one of those thoughts and overthink it, Dorian says with a twinkle to his sapphire eyes, “I’d say that you’re not going to after this.”

And then the prince feasts.

You fall back to the table with a cry of satisfaction. The thud of your head smacking the wood echoes throughout the library but you hardly feel a thing as Dorian licks a fat stripe up your clit. He doesn’t hesitate to bury himself in your cunt, fucking his tongue into you with fervor. Your thighs are already threatening to clamp shut around his head but his strong hold keeps them splayed wide as he devours you.

“Princeling,” you whine when you feel the tidal wave of orgasm building. You don’t know where the nickname comes from, somewhere buried as deeply inside of you as Dorain’s tongue is, but it has him growling against your cunt, trapping your clit between his teeth and flicking his tongue across it faster.

There’s nowhere for you to go, nowhere to squirm with the feeling that crashes over you because Dorian’s strength is pinning you to the table. Your fingers find his scalp, biting in, and Dorian welcomes the feeling, using that wicked tongue on you even when the wave crashes and you’re trying to shove him weakly away from your aching clit.

The reprieve of Dorian pulling away doesn’t last long. He straightens to his full height, keeping your legs hooked over his shoulders. It causes your body to slide even closer to him, your wet cunt butting right up against his cock that’s straining so hard in his pants that it’s painful.

“You’ll never call me anything else. Promise me,” he says, and with that harsh look in his eyes and the way that his lips glisten with your orgasm, you could never say no.

Dorian unsheathes himself, unbuttoning his trousers and pulling them down just enough that his cock springs free from its confines. He takes himself in hand, eyes wild with desire as he slides himself through your slickness.

Your breath is choked when you respond, “I promise.”

It’s pressed from your lungs completely with each inch his cock plunges into you. Your nails scrape against the wood of the table, the finishing catching beneath your nails. Your eyes roll into the back of your head at the feeling of him stretching you wide, Dorian’s low groan reflecting the one that your body is desperate to release but is unable to.

His curse is sinful when his hips finally meet yours. He’s staring down at you like you’re everything to him. Like you’re his queen.

“Dorian,” you gasp.

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“Move.”

Move he does. Dorian’s hands meet your hips and your fingers clamp down on his forearms as he thrusts his hips. He loves the marks you’re leaving on his skin, the way you’re branding him with your hot, wet cunt wrapped tightly around him. There’s a sheen to his eyes that shifts something in your soul. You can feel it splintering out of your chest, winding through your veins and into Dorian’s where you’re connected.

He seems to feel it too, with the way that he leans over you again to capture your mouth against his.

“You will be my ending,” Dorian breathes when he’s able to pull himself away from you. He doesn’t go far, his lips brushing yours with his confession. “I would give you my last breath if it meant keeping you alive, but I’m selfish enough to admit that I’d waste it because I cannot imagine a plane of existence where I am without you.”

“Dorian!” You shudder with his words, hiss because how can one male be so good with words? So good with his fingers, his tongue, his cock? The way that he’s hitting that spot again and again and again is driving you over the edge into an oblivion that he follows you into because he meant what he just said.

You revel in the weight of his body collapsing against yours while he paints the walls of your cunt with his cum. You wrap your legs around his waist, keeping him tucked deeply inside of you. Your hearts beat loudly against each other, a heady drum of confessions and more.

You peck Dorian once, twice when your mind clears, trying to pull him from the stupor your cunt has put him in. He’s never felt like this before, never had sex this good. Even when you’re spewing fire at him, he’s wanted this, wanted you from the moment he set those sapphire eyes on you.

And now he has you.

[pucked-bunnie]

bf headcanons ⎜j.swayman

pairings: jeremy swayman x reader prompts: bf headcanons + "where my hug at?" warnings: none! word count: 1k note: i absolutely adore mr jeremy swayman and think he would be such an adorable bf.

(unedited)

- Is 100% the sweetest little dude in the whole wide world. 

- The kind of boyfriend who is so attentive to everything you could ever need. Would have a drawer set up for you when you first started dating in case you ever wanted to stay over. 

- Would go to your house and take photos of every type of hygiene product you use and keep it in his bathroom just in case. 

- The kind of man who is actually obsessed with you - your biggest fan in every way possible, everything that is your favourite is now his favourite. 

- Quality time is one of his top love languages, he would absolutely love to do activities for dates: hikes, bowling, waterparks, painting classes etc. 

- He was so nervous on the first date, he face timed his sister to make sure what he was wearing was appropriate and gave “boyfriend core” vibes 

- after a few weeks of dating he started making his ‘wedding day’ playlist - because it’s good to be prepared. 

- the first christmas you spend together he was adamant about not getting each other presents - he didn’t want you to waste your hard earned money on him, but trust that when you show up for lunch with him and the Ullmark family he had bought you more gifts then you can fit in your car, claiming “I have all this money and now I finally have someone to spend it on.” 

- Just everything about spending christmas with Jeremy would be magical. 

- Jeremy is a ridiculously empathetic person, when he walks into the lounge room and see you tearing up at the adoption campaigns on tiktok for the local shelter he sits a cries with you. “We can get them all, I promise.” 

- Not to mention the way his body would tense, even though his eyes soften any time you talk about how your ex boyfriends treated you - or how people were mean to you at work today, all this man wants is for his girlfriend to be happy. 

- This man is a sucker for eye contact - if you make eye contact with him for more then thirty seconds he is swooning hard.

- He loves to show that he’s paying attention and eye contact is how he does that - he is very much an active listener, just small ‘uh huh’s’ and ‘mhms’ every now and then to make sure you know he’s listening. 

- He would 100% go for a book girlie - taking you out to the bookstore every time he’s going away for a road trip to make sure you have entertainment while he’s away. 

- Love taking your recommendations and reading them on the plane or team bus and sending you his thoughts, don’t even get me started on when he figures out what annotations are. 

- Would share earbuds with you on a hike, a thriller playing the two of you gasping as you walk over rocks and hills. 

- This man is such a chatter box, he would have so much to say after a game, his hand swinging yours between the two of you, his other hand making gestures as he tells about all the goals he stopped and about the blink 182 song he couldn’t stop singing - would proceed to play that song when you get in the car. 

- I feel like Jeremy would be so private about your relationship, as much as he’d love to show you off and make sure everyone knew you were taken - he would want to wait until you were comfortable, and until you were sure that you wanted to be seen as a “bruins wag” 

- Coming back to love languages, Jeremy is very much a physical touch kind of person, his hand has to be in yours at all time, he would hold his hand behind him making grabby motions whenever he’s walking in front of you. 

- When your standing next to him, his arm would wrap around your waist, or hang over your shoulder, rubbing soft patterns on your limbs. 

- He is also the type of person to un-ironically ask “where my hug at?” whenever he see you. 

- Whenever you two go to bed, he would strip off his shirt and lie face down on the mattress, placing your hand on his bare back demanding scratches as you flick the pages of your book on your kindle. 

- His favourite game is trying to guess what shape you are drawing on his skin. 

- Is an ally for every cause you can think of - would go with you to pride parades, and show up to any kind of charity event. He gives bi-wife energy ngl. 

- He’s also an ally in the sense that he would love to have kids one day but ultimately thinks it up to his partner - it’s your body you can do what you wish with it. He’s a big fan of the idea of adoption. 

- Let’s be real for a moment, Jeremy is very serious under his goofball demeanour, he would be one of the kindest and most honest partners you could hope for. I feel like he would always be the kind of person to be in a friends-to-lovers scenario, wanting to make sure you were compatible before he committed. 

- Jeremy all round is such a cuddly teddy bear, he would do anything for his partner and would give the world to people he loves, in return he needs someone who would extend the same to him. 

- Every tough guys needs to be spoilt every now and then, despite asking you to not spend your money on him, he would blush the entire time if you took him out for a surprise date. 

- He would gush over photos of you in your wag jacket, and would giggle and kick his feet and the video of you and Moa sharing a goalie hug. 

- He loves seeing the person he loves, enjoying the things he loves so seeing you at games and cheering him on is almost an out of body experience for him. 

- Jeremy Swayman is the standard. 

[isa-loves-you]

Touching | The Group Chat Headcanons |

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Isaac:

Isaac isn't big on touching, but he doesn't push away from it when you offer it

Most of the time when he shows physical affection its little things.

Whenever he sits next you on the couch hell pull your legs over his lap, or whenever you guys are in a crowded place in public he will hold your wrist or keep a hand on your shoulder so you guys don't get separated 

Sometimes when isaac drinks he gets playful, which means be expected to be picked up and body slammed on your guys bed 

Nothing too hard though, he once tried to pick you up bridal style and spin you around but once he started to spin your hand hit a nearby wall and he felt so bad. He thought you were going to die

This man is a horrible sleeper. its either he sleeps sprawled all over the bed and almost kicking you out of the bed.

or he's clinging on to you for dear life.

Nick: 

Nick loves physical contact. He can't get enough.

Whenever he has an excuse to touch you he does

When you guys are in public he interlocks your guys arms because he doesn't like how sweaty his hands get from holding hands.

If you ever see those couples that act too touchy while waiting in a line. That's you and him.

He melts whenever you hug him and also scratch his back a little bit

Since nick wears a lot of hats, and also wears headphones majority of the day he will do anything you want if you rub or scratch his head

Nick likes cuddling when you two are watching a movie or just laying on the bed but not when he's going to sleep

You guys usually fall asleep facing each other and having your legs intertwined together

Yumi

Hes doesnt like being touched by a lot of people and it's gotten worse when he moved into the group house

He pretends that he doesn't like it when you touch him but you both know he secretly loves it

In public he will put his arm across your shoulders so you guys can walk at the same pace

If he doesn't do this you will be left behind. He walks too fast

He does like it when you put some form of weight on him, he feels more grounded

Usually it when he's laying in bed scrolling on his phone and your laying on top of him also watching his phone

But you can't lie facing him when you do this. He freaks out if he feels you breathing on him

Since he's a big man he likes it when he's the big spoon

if you wrap your arm around him and hike your leg onto his hip he's asleep in not time

Tanner:

Tanner is like nick, he loves affection

He's a very giddy person so whenever you hug him or touch him in anyway he's happy 

He likes holding your hand, but he thinks its funny when he finds new and weird ways to be close to you in person

God this man is built like one of those buff teddybears, i will die a fulfilled solder being suffocated by his boobs🫡

Whenever you two are relaxing on his bead or watching a movie he will find his way to put his head in your lap and you scratch his head or eyebrows

He usually falls asleep like that so he makes sure your not moving

Tanner likes falling asleep on his stomach so that means your his mattress 

Larry:

Larry is very carefree about touching he neither likes it or dislikes it.

He likes holding hands the most of all, nothing can beat a classic

Even if you think that physical affection is the most a couple can do to show love, your wrong Larry finds other ways.

He thinks doing activities or just hanging out with you is the most loving thing people can do.

However, Larry does like it when he sits on the floor in between your legs and style his hair in different ways.

Since Larry has a hard time falling asleep at night that means you are up a lot of nights too

Most of the time you fall asleep before Larry does, but you always wake up with him laying right next to you.

You spend a good portion of your morning taking .5 pictures of him asleep.