#yes it was hard to draw i really struggled with this one

[iatemyboyfriend3]

wc: 1.9k

johnny “soap” mactavish

warnings: mdni 18+, piv smut, oral s*x, johnny is a dog, pwp with a tinge of fluff

You’re lying on the edge of the small, creaky bed, pretending to read, but you can feel Soap’s gaze burning into you. The tiny hostel room offers no escape—just the one bed and the rickety chair he’s claimed across from you. He’s sitting there now, one leg propped up on the chair’s arm, a teasing grin playing on his lips as he finally says, “Ach, if yer gonna ignore me, at least try tae look like yer actually readin’, eh?”

You keep your eyes on the book, letting the silence stretch between you. The way he’s watching you is almost too much, but riling Johnny up never hurt anyone except your poor cunny that’s been drooling since you two came into the room and he had kissed you sloppily and threw you on the bed- ignoring your soaked panties until now.

“You just gonna sit there, lass, or are ye plannin’ on acknowledgin’ yer bonnie lad?” His voice, thick with that heavy Scottish brogue, pulls a smile from you even as you try to play it cool.

You glance up, giving him a look of mock annoyance. “And what if I’m too busy now, Soap?” You reply, challenging his suggestive tone.

“Too busy?” He’s up on his feet in a flash, crossing the room in a few long strides, that familiar glint in his eye. You can almost picture the invisible tail wagging behind him. “Aye, I’ll give ye somethin’ to be busy with, hen,” he says, his voice low and testing, just close enough for you to feel the rumble of his voice.

Before you can react, his hands are on you, fingers digging into your sides with practiced precision, tickling you mercilessly. You burst into laughter, squirming under his touch as he pins your back against the hard mattress.

“Soap!” you manage to gasp out between gasps and dry giggles, your hands weakly trying to push him away.

“Aye, what’s the matter, dove? Can’t handle a wee bit o’ fun?” His grin widens, the sound of your laughter fueling his playful attack.

Finally, you manage to grab hold of his wrists, your fingers brushing against his skin just a little too softly. “Alright, alright! I give!” you say, your voice light, but the way you glance up at him innocently has his eyes darkening, something almost predatory flashing in his gaze.

Soap stops, but doesn’t move away. Instead, he leans in closer, his nose brushing against yours. “That’s what I thought, lass.” His voice is softer now, still teasing, but with that underlying warmth that always makes your heart skip a beat.

"Look at ye, lass,” he murmurs, his voice thick with that familiar Scottish lilt that never fails to send a shiver down your spine. “Ye’re lookin’ at me like a starvin’ dog watches a bone.”

You scoff, trying to maintain some semblance of control, but the way he’s looking at you, the heat in his eyes, makes it impossible to hide the flush creeping up your neck. “Maybe I am,” you agree, your voice not quite as steady as you’d like.

Soap laughs, a low, rumbling sound that’s more of a purr. “Aye, I can see that,” he says, and you can feel the low vibration of his grumble against your lips. His hands are resting on your upper thighs as his thumbs trace so so close to your heat- you have the urge to throw your legs over his waist and beg for more, for him to touch you more

“Tell me, dove,” he drawls, his breath hot on your lips. “What is it ye want, eh? Ye just gonna lie there all pretty, or are ye gonna ask for what ye really need?”

You swallow hard, your heart racing as his words sends a shiver up your neck to your cheeks. He’s drawing it out, and it’s driving you crazy. You reach up, trying to pull him down to you, but Soap catches your wrists, holding them down to the mattress with a grin.

“Ah ah, not so fast, hen,” he chides, his voice dripping with playful menace. “Ye’ve got to ask nicely.”

You bite your lip, trying to keep from squirming under his gaze. He’s enjoying this, watching you struggle to keep your composure, waiting to jump on you as soon as you ask all nicely and pretty for him. Finally, you give in, your voice barely above a whisper as you murmur, “Please, Soap.”

His eyes darken, and he releases your wrists, his warm hands finally slide down your body, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. “That’s more like it, lass,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against yours in a feather-light kiss that leaves you aching for more.

“Ye’re mine, lass,” he whispers against your skin, his voice a low growl as he finally kisses you. His mouth was warm, his tongue heavy, and his scarred, calloused hands had slid around to cradle either side of your spine as he tucks you in closer, your bodies pressed together, your chest empty of breath from the pressure of his heavy body, your mind spinning.

Johnny's fingers tighten into your soft flesh and you press harder into him. His lips tread down to your chin and over to your neck, leaving open-mouthed, wet kisses as he lays his body weight into you on the bed, straddling your hips with his thick muscled thighs.

Johnny loved grabbing your soft skin, anywhere and everywhere- he wastes no time ripping your clothes off and playfully spitting on your panty-clad pussy, rubbing the saliva into the already soaked fabric.

"Look at tha', bonnie" he chuckles as he crawls further down the bed and throws your legs over his shoulders, roughly stuffing his face in between your thighs and into your damp panties and shakes his head roughly- his nose nudging your clit hard and over and over again as he sharply inhales you.

Your hands grips anything you can reach, hips bucking up into his face as tears blurs your vision. He moves back from your heat and eyes your now see-through panties, licking his lips thats now covered in stickiness and saliva nastily.

“Can't get 'nough at how wet ye are.” His finger gently touches your engorged clit over the fabric, “Haven’t even licked ye properly, and ye’re soaked tae the fuckin’ sheets.” He plays with your panty clad pussy with just the tip of his thick rough finger, giving sweet kisses to your clit as you whine and try to shimmy away.

“Johnny, please!” He looks up at you, and you could see his eyes darken into obsidian as he falls for your needy state. He finally pulls down your soiled panties and dives in, sucking roughly on your clit sending shivers down your spine. Deft fingers toying with your hole and finally being pushed in, stretching your walls with ease and curling inside you.

The more his fingers curled inside you with precision, the more your velvety walls closed around them, pulsating even due to the dual pleasure you were receiving. He groaned as he sucks harder, your back arching as his tongue laps the spot, all to make you ruin his face just the way he wants you to do. You feel that build up in the pit of your stomach rise faster than you can handle.

“So close,” You whimper, your breath catching in your throat as he curls his fingers once, twice, three times to bring it out of you, your mouth hangs open in reaction to the pull of your orgasm washing over you instantly. He eventually pulls his fingers out and stuffs them into your mouth, watching you suck them dry as he groans. And saliva mixed with cum shines on his lips, a guttural groan erupting from him due to how you swirl your tongue around his fingers to taste yourself.

“Should I just have ye hang o’er this bed and use that bonnie mouth o’ yours?” You frantically nod yes but he kisses your forehead hotly before moving to the side of you, pulling your leg up.

“Maybe a wee bit later. But for now, I just neetae feel ye.” He spits in his other hand and rubs his cock to get it slicked, moving up slightly to press the tip up at your aching core, both of you moaning as he enters you like an intruder.

“That’s it, let everyone know how much ye missed me. Ye can do it.” His endless praise makes you moan louder, and in turn he touches you all over, finding that exploring your body was all that he ever wanted, that you were a work of perfection that he couldn’t get enough of forever.

He tilts your head towards his and kisses you, the intensity making your head spin. He keeps up his pace, making you whine in his mouth a ‘no more’. You pull back and catch your breath, moving your hand down to grip the sheets. He kisses you again, and you moan into his mouth as he doesn’t retreat despite the desperate shallow breaths you both let out.

He quickly threw his hand down to rub at your clit, and you cry out and grab at his wrist, your fingers turning white from the tightness in which you grip him- and it was enough to thrust you into release, your grip on his wrist tightening as you clench all around his length, hips shaking at overstimulation.

Stars blur your vision as you heard your name, maybe his voice thick with pleasure. You wanted to speak, but only a choked moan escaped as you felt yourself being filled. It wasn't until he whispered in your ear, gently patting your cheek, that you came to, his thrusts slowing as your body stopped shaking.

“Hey, stay wi’ me, aye?” He kissed your neck as you opened your eyes again, and he fixed you to turn to face him, looking over your face and kissing it in its wake.

“Love ye more than anythin’ else in the world, yeah?” he whispered, his voice soft but full of sincerity as he carefully cradled you in his arms. After a moment, he gently pulled away to grab a rag, cleaning you both off with slow, tender movements. When he returned, he settled beside you, brushing his lips against your skin, placing gentle kisses along your neck, shoulders, and anywhere he could reach. “Such a sweet lass ye are for me,” he murmured between kisses, his voice warm, as he held you close, offering quiet reassurance and comfort as your breaths evened out.

He presses a soft kiss to your forehead, his voice playful. “Get some rest now, love.” You shoot him a teasing glance, lips curling into a smile. “Sleep? You really think I’m going to sleep after that?” His eyes sparkled as he leaned closer, his breath warm against your ear. “Aye, I think ye will. But I’ll keep ye company just in case.”

[yararts]

Oh man Leviathan really is the perfect way to describe her 👀 That massive silhouette gliding just beneath the surface at a dangerous speed, glowing in the bioluminescence of the night, so beautiful and terrifying at the same time!

Thank you so much for your kind words girl ❤️ Yes I just couldn’t imagine her any other way haha (I really need to draw the twins as reef Na'vi soon 👀❤️) I’m so happy you like her eyes! I wanted to honor her original tribal galhot design as well but also make it different! The idea we had of the twins being born blind as reef Na'vi is something I love exploring, and with Assara, I indeed imagined she lost most of her sight due to the harshness of her exiled life... Maybe one eye was injured while hunting or defending herself from a wild creature, while the other still sees, tho not perfectly. And yeah even though she values her freedom in solitude, it’s such a harsh and lonely life, especially without a community...

Thank you so much! It was so fun imagining her with curly hair, I can’t wait to try it out with the twins and Kher too! 👀 That injury was one of the most challenging details! I can imagine how she fought against an Akula attack, managing to swim to shore with a deep wound from the bite... And for sure without Liora's help, the blood loss or infection could have been fatal... For someone like Assara, who despises pain, it must have been excruciating! And yeah she still tried to scare Liora away, but the tiny human overcomes her fear to help her❤️

Ahh, thank you ❤️❤️ Honestly, I wasn’t initially aiming for a barren environment, but now that you mention it, it’s such an intriguing concept. Perhaps the island has some lush, fertile areas here and there, but Assara still has to travel through desolate regions to gather proper food and supplies and it's hard. Yeah I really like the idea that even in this world life isn’t that glorified paradise, and for someone living alone like Assara, survival is a constant struggle. That means so much girl! 🥰

Had to make an Avatar version for these two as well because I have no restraint :3

Assara is a reef Na'vi who has chosen a life of self-exile, distancing herself from her people because of differences of beliefs. She shuns both Na'vi and Humans alike, indifferent to their conflicts, and finds solace in the isolation of her remote island. Her solitude is disrupted when Liora, a marine biologist working for the RDA, stumbles upon her intrigued by the sight of a towering Na'vi woman living without a clan.

When Assara first notices the sky-woman's boat, she reacts with hostility, attempting to attack her and drive her away. Things change however after Assara is mauled by an Akula. Assara drags herself to the beach wounded and Liora rushes to shore with a medkit, pleading to be allowed to help. Once again Assara is hostile but eventually and reluctantly she accepts Liora's aid.

From that moment on a connection begins to form. Assara and Liora realize they are both outcasts in their own ways. Liora arrives on Pandora driven by a desire to help Earth’s people, but she disagrees with many of the RDA’s methods and chooses to work alone and far from their base, while Assara has chosen to leave her people behind, seeking the freedom to live life on her own terms, away from judgment and demands. Slowly they grow closer, finding comfort, companionship, and eventually something deeper in each other.

Maybe I'll write something for this as well ❤️

[quinn-pop]

mtdd week day 3 - caring (pt 2)

just another night (and it's ours)

part 1

[ihavesomejays]

troublemaker

to thank @keebssi for all the delicious raturine, have a quick modern au wangxian. nothing like wondering why your school's bad boy is asking you for your student id number in the middle of a random park (he is not in fact asking you for your student id number) !! also apologies to the mdzs fans i haven't read mdzs and i don't really plan to this one was just for a homie

closeups under keep reading

[skeletalheartattack]

just give him some time to come to terms with it. he'll be alright.

[Referencing this post]

[kameyyy]

#recs

this didn’t fit anymore lmao😭

try again

part 0.11. HERE TO STAY

“on the other side of the wall, she’s listening to her client with a smile on her face. she’s a professional; she’s been trained to multitask and take notes while still listening and providing feedback to her clients. right now, she’s clicking off a tab back to the one filled with bullet points on things her client has said. she always knows when he arrives. she hears the left door open, which she knows because it squeaks more than the one on the right. he always uses the left door (she thinks it has something to do with the fact that more people touch the handle of the right door on their way in) and his paces are always steady down the creaky hallway. her last sign that he's here is the chair he sits in every time, the one right next to the door into her rooms. the legs are the slightest bit uneven and the back of the chair will lightly tap against the wall as its way of letting her know of her welcome guest. she already has her queue of songs up. she’s always hated her thin walls until he started coming in. a lot has changed in her life since he's come back, hasn't it?"

content warnings: the big finale which isn't that dramatic! i'm sorry for my bad writing! y/n dad reveal! breaking news: her dad is an asshole! tad bit of violence, one mention of blood and also just cursing and abusive fathers </3

he insists on paying and she doesn’t argue with him about it for long; she’ll have countless more opportunities to steal the check from him, she hopes.

she feels better when she's finally eaten after a day of nervous nausea and time spent anxiously bouncing her knee. on top of that, she’d been with him for the majority of the day, distracting her from what had happened in the morning. he even listened to her issues, and she’s finally starting to believe the promise that he’s here to stay. 

they’ve just stepped off the train, and her apartment building is only a few minutes away. he walks alongside her the entire time, their arms brushing each other ever so often. whether it’s on purpose or not, neither of them will fess up.

he’s only distracted from his time spent mindlessly reaching his arm out just the slightest bit more to hit hers ever so often when he feels a buzz in his pocket. he slips out his phone quickly to check its screen:

akaashi’s a moment too late, because they’ve just made it up the stairs to her floor.

she’s already seen him, and he’s already seen her.

she wants to puke. 

he’s there, arguing with iwaizumi outside their door. his sunken eyes and gaunt face make her stomach twist with guilt, but a brush from omi’s knuckles reminds her where she is again. it’s not her job to take care of him. it never was, and it never will be.

"you," the man is pointing a finger towards her, stumbling forward and she immediately shrinks back like a shriveling flower, losing her confidence. omi's already standing in front of her without even thinking about it, putting a barrier between the two.

the old man keeps talking as if he can see right through him, though “you’re a disrespectful worthless piece of shit, you know that? can’t ever in your life put even a single person about yourself. here you are living with a bunch of boys. what are you, a whore? do you suck them off so they’ll keep the bad guys away? they’re doing a shit job at it. i’m standing here after, all, aren’t i?”

“it’s not like that,” her voice is quiet and weak, and she’s not even sure it makes it to the man’s ears.

“you can’t think about anyone else. you're too selfish. you won’t even answer your own father’s calls much less say anything to him at all–”

“i told you to back off!” her voice comes out loud this time, louder than she means for it to, “i’ve told you to back off so many times but you just don’t listen,” she steps out from behind omi, standing next to him instead while the man in front of them stops at the sound of her voice, “these are my roommates and my closest friends. i'm living with them because they genuinely care about me and aren't using me for any purpose, something you can't even dream about. the only reason you’re still standing here is that they have enough self-control and respect for me that they won't beat up the man i regrettably call my father.”

omi’s gaze slides over to hers, trying to see if she’ll meet his eyes. he’s simultaneously trying to communicate how proud of her he is and let her know that he'll support her no matter what happens. 

“take that back,” her father spits, starting to curl his fingers into a fist. she stays silent, and his face begins to flush an angry red. “you’re only proving my point. you’re just an ungreatful little girl who thinks she no longer has to care about anyone else because she's older. i took care of you your whole life and i will not have you ignoring me for the rest of my fucking life!” the smell of beer invades her senses as he steps closer.

“you did jackshit in my life! you never helped me with anything I asked you to. never bought me anything i needed, you've never cared about me. i’ve grown up and moved out. i can do whatever i damn please and i told you to leave me alone. maybe if you respected me i wouldn't ignore you, but that's impossible for you,” she retorts, standing her ground.

“don’t you fucking talk to me like that–” he nears her, only a few steps between them and she starts to feel the panic in her chest, “your stubbornness is the reason your mother left–”

“my stubbornness?” she can’t help but fight back. that’s what separates her from her past self. her younger self ran away, left home as soon as she could to live on her own, but now she’s grown into who she is today, and she won’t let him ruin that. “you treated your wife like shit and refused to change no matter how many times she screamed and argued with you right in front of me about how horrible you were. you've never fixed anything because you’re so stuck up and think you’re so high and mighty that she decided to pack up her bags and leave–”

“then why did she leave you behind too?” 

it’s like her heart stops beating for a second. her blood runs cold before her vision is a blur and the face of the man is crushed right in front of her, sending him to the ground groaning. his hand is covering his nose, preventing her from seeing how badly damaged it is, but she can’t find it in her to care.

“don’t blame her for your faults. grow up and take responsibility for your shit. she deserved better than either of you,” omi is talking down on the man now, and she looks up from her father’s body to the fist of the boy beside her, bruised and a little red.

he’s been by her side since day one, and maybe he disappeared for a section of it, but now he’s back. they're back together, and she stands proudly beside him, “she left me too, but i can’t be mad at her for being sick of you. or us. whatever it is, you’re both selfish and her absence nor yours is something i’m mourning over. i’m happy to have left you too and for the last time, i never want to see you again”

iwaizumi has joined them, standing above the man, no trace of sympathy in his eyes despite the blood that's streaking down her father's face. he tries to get up, only for iwaizumi to keep him down on the ground with a foot on his shoulder, “you heard her. don’t ever show your fucking face around here again. i’ll kill you the moment i lay eyes on you.” iwaizumi’s olive eyes move from the ground to meet hers, slightly softening when he sees her, “are you done with him? i’ll make sure he gets out of here and stays away for good.”

omi’s words from the diner rush back to her head, and she doesn’t feel so bad for relying on her friend. she believes he's willing to help her, and she won’t let her father’s words get to her head. she’s cared for others, unlike him, and developed relationships that she’s earned by giving out her own love. “yeah, i’m done,” her voice is quiet again as she keeps looking at her friend, searching his eyes for any sort of annoyance. but she can’t find any, and she smiles, walking towards him, wrapping her arms around him. “thank you, iwaizumi.”

he has an arm around her shoulders, his foot still resting on her father. “always,” he replies simply before she leaves him embrace, gesturing for omi to follow her. “i’m going to take care of his fist, now.”

iwaizumi only nods, turning his attention back to the man on the ground omi following his gaze as he passes by. iwaizumi will do more than a good enough job at keeping his word, he knows that, but he feels like he should have some part in taking care of the man whose plagued the girl in front of him for her entire life.

but she hasn’t asked him to take care of the man in front of her, and he knows its not his place. she knows she does not resent the man to the point that she wishes harm upon him, she simply wishes that he would leave her alone. and iwaizumi will make sure that wish is honored, and omi should be satisfied with the hit he landed on the man’s nose.

before her hand can even reach the knob of the door, it swings open and she’s pulled inside by the arms of a black-haired man who he recognizes to be akaashi. kita is standing beside him, a hand on [y/n]’s shoulder as they both check on her for any injuries or harm.

he hasn’t seen kita since his days in high school when he was the captain of inarizaki; atsumu told him he had moved out to the countryside but he must have come back after some time. he feels like a weight is lifted off his chest at the sight of her in the arms of his roomates, and he knows that she is cared for. that she has found her people, just like he told her earlier that night, and he hopes that she’s starting to accept his words as the truth.

he’s happy just watching her from afar, but she breaks apart from akaashi’s hug to gesture him in, and kita shuts the door behind him. “omi, this way,” she says with a smile on her face, beckoning him with a hand.

it’s the first time she’s called him by that old name since high school, and he thinks he’s falling even harder for her if that’s possible. she makes him sit on a stool in the kitchen while she searches her cabinets and a nearby closet for medical supplies. she’s begun to apply an ointment to his hand when he opens his mouth, “i can’t believe you think your roomates would ever leave you. look at how they all came to make sure you were okay. mine are one fight away from starting to vote people to kick out of the apartment nearly every week.”

she laughs at his comment, unwrapping a roll of bandages, “i’m sure no one would ever vote for you if that happened, but i guess you’re right, they’re pretty good, aren’t they?”

he nods, watching her face while she’s focused on his hand, “are you doing okay?”

she hums back in response, “yeah. the thing about my mom leaving me behind too kind of stung, but i don’t think life would’ve been any better with her, so it shouldn’t really hurt that bad. i’ll be okay. what you said at the diner really helped, you know. i feel like I can trust myself to say what i'm thinking rather than being scared i'm wrong or selfish. i can trust that it's not egotistical to believe my roomates don’t actually hate me. and that you don’t hate me. so i feel like i’ve finally escaped the weight of my dad’s words always crushing me and playing down anything i do.”

he reaches a hand up with his uninjured hand to wipe away tears from her face she didn't even realize were falling. and then he keeps his hand there, caressing the side of her face. “i don’t hate you, i never have. this entire time…how i feel about you is quite the opposite,” the words are slightly too intimate for him and as soon as they escape his mouth, it becomes hard to swallow and his face feels a little hot, but he doesn’t remove the hand from her cheek. he opts to say something more neutral next, “you did well, talking back down to him. i think you could’ve taken him down yourself.”

she chuckles at that, tying a knot to finish his bandage, “that’s what you think, but i’m sure i’d break my thumb or something. and if i have a hot man to defend me? i’m not lifting a finger.”

“you think i’m hot?” he says with a smile.

her cheeks grow warm under his hand, but she can’t look or move away from him, “i’m pretty sure thousands of people think so. it’s like a fact; newspapers can make money off of just having your face on the front page even if they barely mention you or don’t focus on sports at all.”

“well none of that matters,” he’s smiling softly now, and she’s still looking into his dark-colored eyes, hands holding his wrapped hand, “it just matters what you think.”

“what i think?” she repeats. and maybe it’s the adrenaline from the encounter they just had, or his boldness rubbing off on her in this current moment, but her next words come out clear and confident, “i think i love you, and i have for years. even when you left, i never stopped loving you.”

“i’m gonna make up for those years, you know,” he whispers back, pulling her by the sides to stand between his legs, bringing her closer. “i know i love you. i’d be a fool not to. and i loved you back then in high school too, even if i didn’t know it. i swear, losing you made me realize how much i took you for granted and everything became clear. letting you disappear was the worst mistake i ever made. i’ll make up for that lost time. make it up to you to the the point that you’re sick of me and you forget we were ever even separated for a time in our lives.”

“oh? and how are you gonna do that?” there’s a breathless feeling growing inside of her chest, where her heart beating fast with his confession and the way she's allowing him to pull her face close to this.

“starting with this,” his breath is hot against her lips before he closes the gap between them, and she’s kissing him back. she doesn't mourn or wish for the past, or for anything to change. he's come back and that's all that matters. she's happy with the word again. she likes it better than a phrase like "we fell in love at first sight." instead, she can say, "we met again. we fell in love again.

"we tried again."

it sounds like a story that reminds people endings aren't set in stone. she likes it.

.

.

.

“by the way, have you been playing songs for me in your lounge room when i’m waiting for you?”

“oh, you noticed?”

.

.

.

"the more you love your friends the more their features start to blur until all you remember is a pair of warm, welcoming eyes and laughter that feels like home."

prev. | m.list

extras <3

this is the end! thank you for reading try again <3

that last little quote is something i should've included like two chapters ago but it got lost in my gallery so here it is now <3

y/n's a good therapist i swear!!! she takes like one second to hit a play on a spotify playlist she's not playing games on her computer for entire sessions 😭

this is all i have tbh! i hope you enjoyed a little bit of this story <3 thank you so so much for being along on this ride w me!!

taglist: @eggyrocks @wyrcan @guitarstringed-scars @strawberryuri @violetesensou @kakeru-eem @glmge @heytheredemonsss @mollyrolls @bemebiu @daszy @snail-squasher @0moonii @thiisisntlovely @todorokiskitten @rory-cakes @iiwaijime @iatethemochi @yuminako @savemebrazilhinata @kismyscars @bokutoko @nobodybutnnoorr @wolffmaiden @daisy-room @softpia @lees-chaotic-brain @v3nusplanetofluv @crispchocolates @phoenix-eclipses @hhoneyhan @encrypta @rockleeisbaeeee @cr4yolaas @zombriesworld @localgaytrainwreck @moucheslove @hibernatinghamster @notverymarley @certaindreampost @akaakeis @ciderscape @lucien-luna @strawbrinkofdeath @wave2mia @samuel1004 @01trickster10 @dazqa @cosmiicdust @chemiru

[thatsveryvortex]

Writing Tools for Planning Your Story

I've tried tons of writing apps and sites, so you don't have to. Here's a list of free sites to plot out your novel, with my review and some images of how I use it.

Milanote

Milanote is like having a giant pinboard with folders. You can upload anything onto it [yes even your main doc] and then draw over it or connect things with lines and arrows

Milanote lets you add up to a hundred things for free, not including drawing. This is one of the downsides of the site as I've found myself reaching that limit recently.

For me, the best part is being able to draw over stuff, and the color swatches.

Milanote is a lot less structured than other sites I've used, and personally, I don't think their templates are worth using.

8/10 overall, Milanote is what I mainly use. Here are some pics of how I use it:

Miro

Miro is a flowchart website mainly used for corporate jobs, however, it can be a great plotting tool for that reason

Miro has a lot of great starter templates if you are looking for a more structured freeform experience. It also comes with a blank page as well.

Unfortunately, I'd argue that it's a bit of a hard tool for beginners to use without a template, I've learned copy-paste is my best friend with Miro the hard way.

It's much better than most platforms at making timelines though.

It has a limit of three boards which is a bit disappointing but overall, I think it's worth the try.

5/10 Miro is very middle of the road for me due to the limited ability to customize things and the free limit. Here are some pics:

[I wrote that part weeks ago, I am now fully using Miro and believe it's the best for making timelines and charts, I just wish it let me make more boards 8/10]

Hiveword

This might be someone's jam, I can't really say it's mine though.

First off, the unpaid version is really just a few boxes saying "Write a summary here." which makes it just not worth it in my opinion

There really isn't any way to customise things which is my favorite part of most of these softwares

I've barely used this, so maybe there's something I'm missing but

1/10, Just use Google Docs at this point, here's a couple pics

World Anvil

People like this software, it's mainly used for tabletop, which is just a different way of writing adventure, and I've seen it recommended by authors.

Unfortunately, I'm going to disagree with a lot of people and say it's hard to use and isn't even really good at plotting.

I may be biased on this one as every time I've tried to use it in the past I've struggled. However, it seems like another just write it in a document and create a folder.

I'd say it's closer to an organizing tool, but even then just use something else.

3/10, I have nothing to say about it but maybe you'll enjoy it, all here are two photos

Campfire

This is the one I think I've heard the most about, but have never actually tried.

right off the bat, I'm going to say this is 100% worth it, you'll see at the end with the photos but this is like if Miro and World Anvil had an organization baby.

It's extremely easy to understand, and it makes timelines, it's more for writing your whole book but idk about that yet.

7/10, its themes are really pretty but it limits how much you can do to 20 I believe. Here are the photos

That's all for now, honestly, I think you should use Miro if you are looking to plot things out, and Milanote if you want to collect and organize your thoughts for writing, as that's what I do. Obviously what I like won't be for everyone, but hopefully, this helped you see some options

[fangswbenefits]

Book

Summary: Astarion comes across an interesting book and decides to share the knowledge with you. Quite literally.

Pairing: Astarion x female!Tav

Warnings: 18+. Breeding kink. P in V. Vampire bite. Blood drinking. Creampie. Overestimulation. Cumplay.

Word count: 1.7k

It wasn't unusual for you to find yourself on your back, knees bent and legs spread apart as Astarion's hand worked diligently in between them.

“You know… I came across this book in Rivington."

Two fingers rubbed slow yet measured circles between your slick folds. His dexterity truly shined through in these moments, as he lured you closer and closer to the edge of your sanity.

“A book?” 

“A most interesting book.”

His lips pressed lingering kisses across the exposed side of your neck, and you struggled to keep your eyes fixed on his hand.

He adored it when you watched him deliver unprecedented pleasure, and the sight was positively maddening with your wetness coating both his fingers as lewd sounds echoed in your ears.

The cluster of pillows strategically placed behind you aided you to take in the view more clearly, and you couldn't help but moan softly.

Suddenly, you jolted at the feeling of one fang raking across your sensitive skin. “What of it?”

“Do you really want to know, darling?”

His purring voice alone could edge you so effectively that you had to grip the bedsheets under you, balling your fists and silently praying to the gods above to help you stay grounded.

“Yes…” you moaned, eyes nearly fluttering shut.

Astarion quickly bfound your pulse point and planted an open-mouthed kiss.

Just bite me… 

That would surely be your undoing, but he merely chuckled and you felt him smile.

“It spoke of dhampirs - half-vampires.”

Gods…

The implication that dangled from his silky words wasn't particularly subtle and you found yourself clenching around nothing.

“It is not an easy feat, but with the right amount of dedication and… perseverance,” he punctuated each word with a roll of his fingers, drawing soft whimpers from you. “... I'm quite certain we can explore it.”

You clenched again, and your legs faltered, almost dropping from the chill that ran down your spine.

He clicked his tongue disapprovingly. “No, no, my sweet. Keep your focus and your legs up high for me.”

Astarion thrived on your pleasure and basked in your praises.

He was good.

He knew he was good.

And he wanted you to show him.

Stroking his ego was a sure way to get his complete devotion.

The throbbing between your legs intensified tenfold and you could see it swollen and peeking through your folds as he dragged his drenched fingers all the way up to your lower abdomen.

“What do you say?” He purred in your ear, massaging you tenderly.

Another agonising clench.

You parted your lips in search of a reply, but the words died in your mouth at the sight of his fingers spreading your wetness across your skin.

“Well? Will you let me breed you?”

His crude words had you gripping the fabric in your hands tighter, and you wondered how much longer until it finally tore.

“Astarion…”

Slowly but surely, you felt something prickling at the skin on the back of your hand.

It was slightly cool and you needn't need to look to know his cock was leaking precum.

Just for you.

The liquid began dribbling down your skin as he began pressing soft kisses along your jawline.

Silently, he grabbed your hand until your fingers instinctively wrapped around his hardening cock.

And then he hissed.

“Tighter,” he urged, placing his hand atop yours to squeeze down hard. “You're tighter than this…” he finished with a sigh.

This time, you allowed your eyes to flutter shut as you rolled your hips in desperation.

He fucked your hand slowly, occasionally bringing your thumb to swipe across his tip, earning delicious and urgent moans from him.

Your breathing quickened and you felt the mattress shift under you as he carefully slid his cock from your grip, positioning himself on top of you.

“Eyes on me.”

You took a deep and shaky breath and your gaze dropped to witness an elegant finger disappear inside you.

A swift gasp escaped your throat and you couldn't stop yourself from clenching around him.

The corner of his mouth quirked up in an approving smile. “So eager…”

You were mesmerised by how he so easily slid a second one, the wet sounds nearly doing it for you.

He shifted until his cool lips were on yours, nipping at the lower one with the razor-like fang, easily drawing blood and gently suckling on the bruised flesh. 

Your back arched when he removed both fingers from you before pressing his cock at your entrance.

By this point, you were too soaked to offer any resistance as he slowly sank into you.

You broke the kiss first, greedily looking in between your bodies just so you could watch his cock slide in and out, bulging veins glistening with your wetness.

“Enjoying the view, darling?”

You bit down on your lip, tasting your own blood as you nodded through half-hooded eyes. 

Countless sweet rolls of his hips pushed you further and further along the inevitable precipice, and the familiar coiling and throbbing had your mouth drop open, unable to rein in your spilling whimpers.

He dipped his head to glide his tongue across your lower lip, both his arms caging you in and allowing him to angle his hips so he could sink fully into you.

You were visibly pulsing, your folds parted slightly, and his gaze soon followed yours.

A guttural grunt rumbled in his throat. “Let go, darling… and let me feel you tightening around me.”

You gripped his arms, bracing yourself for the impending wave of overwhelming bliss that took over your entire body, and through gasps and pants and moans, you plunged down the spiral of bliss.

A distant groan from Astarion was heard as your vision blurred, powerful contractions rippling through your lower half.

He was mumbling something, but you couldn't make out a single word, far too lost in your high to focus on anything else.

You felt his lips on your neck and you threw your head back, offering it fully to him.

As the waves of your contractions finally subsided, you came back to your senses, trying hard to even out your laboured breathing.

He was still buried deep inside you.

Had he come with you?

The answer came when his fangs began prodding the skin along your pulse point, as if barely containing himself.

He had yet to reach his peak.

“Can you give me another one?”

Your eyes widened and you struggled to form coherent words. “I… I don't… know.”

He brought one hand to grip your knee, pushing your leg against your torso, and spreading you further apart for him.

The pace he had set was contained and slow, a constant reminder that he yearned for his own release.

His tongue darted out to swipe across your flushed skin, and you turned your head, granting him easier access.

“Use your words.”

You swallowed, gasping from how oversensitive you suddenly felt from the constant friction in between your legs.

“Please…” you could only bring yourself to plead. 

His fangs taunted the fragile barrier of your skin, but not with enough pressure to draw blood.

“Use. Your. Words.” He rasped impatiently, punctuating each word with a snap of his hips.

You brought your hands to his chest, feeling the taut muscles tense under your touch. 

“Bite me…”

The sharp sting had you grip him hard, his hardened nipples digging into the palms of your hands.

As soon as he got to control the flow of your blood, he quickly matched the rolls of his hips with each mouthful of warm liquid he downed.

Your senses were full of him.

Filled with him.

Dragging on hand to settle on his throat, you moaned as you felt him under your palm, eagerly swallowing your blood.

It didn't take long before his skin began to heat up against yours, and you could almost swear you felt his cock hardening even more inside you.

His pace didn't falter. If anything, he was simply indulging in the newfound vigour that only your blood coursing through his body could provide.

Wanting to further tease him, you circled his nipple with the pad of your thumb, earning an approving grunt.

The crescendo of pleasure began to throb deep within you with each passing moment, and you felt him take one of your hands in his, dragging it down to settle where his body connected with yours.

He slid out just enough for your fingers to trace along the bulging and pulsing veins that slithered around his cock.

He quickly withdrew from your neck with a low, rumbling groan, his handsome face hovering yours, droplets of blood dripping from his lips onto yours, which you quickly swiped clean with your tongue, tasting the metallic aftertaste.

You kept teasing his nipple, feeding your own pleasure from how responsive he was.

Astarion was about to come undone, and you realised that having your blood dripping down his chin and neck, was enough to catapult you steadily yet rapidly into the heights of your own pleasure.

Your eyes watched his face twist beautifully as he reached his peak, mouth dropping agape in a raging growl that made you shudder.

Under the touch of your fingers, you felt the underside of his cock spasm rhythmically as he emptied himself inside you.

It was too much.

You felt some of his cum overflowing and staining your fingers, and you immediately dragged them to the pulsing swell between your folds, coating it in the warm liquid and gasping as the violent wave of bliss had you contracting around him.

Astarion buried his face in the crook of your neck as he cursed and whimpered and pleaded for you to have mercy on him.

You truly wished you could grant him such relief, but you were far too gone to be of any comfort as both of you rode out your peak.

With a final grunt from him and a moan from you, he slumped against you, cock still buried deep.

You pressed a hand to the back of his head, slipping your fingers along his damp and soft curls, cradling him in your embrace.

“Just so we're clear,” you began in between pants. “What are the chances of this actually happening?”

He didn't reply right away, instead pressing his lips to the bite marks on your neck, cleaning up the mess.

“Not that high, I reckon?” You managed to chuckle, raking your fingers along his scalp.

“Not high at all.”

Just as you had suspected.

“But we're so used to turning the impossible into possible, that I can't see why this should be any different.”

Oh.

Oh.

A/N: I'm... sorry.... hahaha

Masterlist

[cheriladycl01]

Could you do fic for Fernando Alonso with wife reader?(no age gap). He saw that someone was flirting with her and she was oblivious to it. Then, he swoops in to ‘save’ her from a bad flirt when in reality they were just jealous. He also feels insecure about his age and to make him feel better, she reveals that she had a surprise for him. You decide what it was. Just something fluff and romantic. Tag me later!! Thanks :)))

You make me feel so …. I don’t know the word in English! -McLaren Fernando Alonso x ObliviousWife! Reader

Plot: Marrying Fernando Alonso was the best decision you ever made, you loved how manly and protective he was with you. However, recently he’s been getting jealous of the other men of the grid and how they treat you.

Fernando Alonso had been your husband for many years. You were sort of childhood sweethearts who married young on a whim and stuck together through it all.

You were able to travel the world with the person, later to be people you loved most. However recently you had a glow about it, maybe it was the fact that you were 1 month pregnant not to the knowledge of Fernando and not yet showing but just had that dewy, glowing skin that made you look radiant.

Everyone in the paddock took notice of this change, not that they couldn’t appreciate your attractiveness before, but now it just made them swoon anytime you breezed into the garage in one of your pretty sun dresses.

Today was no different, it was a beautiful sunny day in Mexico, and you were handing out water and fruit for the mechanics and engineers hard at work on your husbands car. You knew them all by name, you made sure you did, so greeting them was never an issue.

However, nobody told you of the rookie employee that had joined them for Mexico in McLaren garage. You immediately started to introduce yourself to the man, talking to him about what he was doing to the car and asking when he had joined them.

Unknown to you, the mechanic was smitten with you and everything you were telling him about your life. He was listening to every word you were telling him, and that was the effect you had on a lot of people.

“So are you, I dunno coming to the team dinner tonight?” He asks scratching the back of his neck and your about to answer with an animated yes until you feel a hand snake round your waist and pull you closer to them.

You look up and see your husband making you smile and pull him into a gentle kiss.

“Mmm my wife will be attending the dinner” Fernando says, you can’t tell but it’s said with a grit in his teeth and a sharp foxy look in his eyes that tells him to back off.

Fernando was used to you getting male attention, but lately it was constant and you didn’t even know it was happening, you were just so oblivious and he hated that you didn’t realise all these people were flirting with you.

And that mechanic wasn’t even the last of it.

Maybe it was something in the Mexican air, but even Fernando couldn’t seem to keep his hands off you over the weekend, especially after your run in with Lewis, and your old friend Jenson.

When Lewis come up to you, you had a big grin on your face.

“Hey darling. How are you?” He asked kissing either side of your cheeks looking over you with those eyes that would draw any woman in, but you. You had no idea those flirty eyes were intended that way. You just saw the kind chocolate brown and assumed the sparkle and glint in there was happiness to see you.

“I’m really good Lew! Just getting to that point of the day where I’m so exhausted, not all of us are young athletes that look 10 year more youthful than they are” you joked to him making him laugh.

“Mmm you definitely don’t struggle in that department” he says looking over you and you beam at him.

“It’s just so warm, do you recon you can help me take my jacket off? I’m not sure where Fernando is, and the buttons always get caught in my hair” you ask, looking round quickly to see if you can in fact bother your husband with the minor inconvenience at hand.

“Of course, turn around for me” he instructs before pulling your hair back and carefully peeling the tight jacket from your body, now showing off the full look of the sundress you were wearing and how it clung to your most valuable assets in the best ways.

“New dress” Lewis asks observing it making you nod.

“Mmmm, I love getting to wear these kinds of dresses in this heat, they make me feel very pretty” you smile as you shove your hands into the pockets of your dress that when you first got it you couldn’t stop telling Fernando about them, before doing a little spin for Lewis, showing of the small slit in the dress.

Fernando came over the minute he saw the look on Lewis face, who was holding your jacket as he spoke to you.

“Lewis” Fernando faked a smile at the fellow driver, once again wrapping his arms around you so you were in front of him with a tight grip and nowhere to go.

“Hello Fernando” Lewis smiles coyly with a slight smirk. The two make idle conversation before Fernandos dragging you away trying to lightly ask you to stay out in the garage and don’t stray away.

But once he was in the car, you found yourself needing the toilet (Curse the start of your baby sitting on your bladder) and another drink due to the high temperatures Mexico was experiencing that day.

There you found Jenson who was just finishing up with an interview before his eyes landed on you.

“Well if it isn’t Y/N Alonso, looking as beautiful as ever” he grins and you pull him into a hug.

You’d known Jenson for pretty much your whole life being childhood friends from Primary school in the UK. You met Fernando when you went to university in Spain, you always joked that you would have still met someone even if it was later in life because Jenson would have likely introduced you.

So when Fernando saw you and him jokingly messing around with one another his face was like thunder.

Jenson could immediately tell and said a quick goodbye to you not wanting to be at the brunt of the Spaniards anger.

“Fernando baby, what’s the matter?” You ask, coming close to him and trying to thread your fingers through his but he shoves your hand away lightly.

“When will you see it?” He demands and you cock your head to the side, not understanding what he meant, making him groan at how cute you looked.

“See what mi amor?” You ask, using Spanish to see if he’d be calmer.

“You don’t see all these BOYS flirting with you and trying to win you over and you don’t see how it affects me and upsets me! And you make me so mad when you entertain it’s and and I don’t know the world in English because I don’t even think there is a word to describe it!” He exclaims all at once making you step back.

He was really really hurt by all this… and you hadn’t been able to see it.

“Have you ever thought that I don’t notice it because I only have eyes for you?” You ask softly, taking his hand happy and satisfied he lets you this time.

“I know I know, I just think… all of these men coming up to you … they are younger than us and it just makes me think they could give you more than I can” he sighs and looks at you with those little puppy dog eyes.

“Don’t you dare say that!” You exclaim almost offended. He had in fact brought your age into it aswell!

“How dare you say that they could give me more than you can, when you damn well know you’ve given me everything!” You say raising your voice.

“Fernando, I love you, and only you! How can you not see that!” You ask.

“I do see it, I just someone feel insecure and I worry that we are too late to experience certain things and its all my fault coz I put it off because of my career!” He explains and your head cocks to the side once again, wondering what he feels like he’s too late to experience.

“What, what do you think we’ve left too late?” You question.

“Kids, travelling the world without my career being there … I dunno I just had a different timeline for us when we first met” he sighs rubbing his temple before pulling you closer to him and resting his head in the crook of you neck as he takes in your sent.

“Baby, there’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you. I was going to wait for after the race so we could tell your parents too but I think this will cheer you up a little … and stop you from worrying about me running over with your colleagues” you joke and he sighs with a light smile pulling back to look over you.

“What is it mi amor?” He asks looking over you. You take his hand and place it on your still pretty flat stomach.

“You can cross a kid of your timeline” you say nervously with a small gulp worried for his reaction.

“Are you being serious?” He asks with a huge grin and he feels around you more to see if there is a more obvious sign.

“Yeah, i only found out before the flight out here” you nod smiling at him and he lifts you up, being as careful as possible with you as he pulls you into a hug.

“I love you so so much! I’m sorry I get so jealous of you, but you can’t blame me when I’m married to such a beautiful woman. Thank you for everything” he smiles pulling you into a light kiss.

Fernando couldn’t be more content with his life right now.

Taglist:

@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @daemyratwst @lauralarsen @the-untamed-soul l @thewulf @itsjustkhaos @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @summissss @gulphulp @starfusionsworld @jspitwall l @sierruhhhh @georgeparisole @youcannotcancelquidditch @tallbrownhairsarcastic @ourteenagetragedy @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @bigsimperika @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @dark-night-sky-99 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @laneyspaulding19 @malynn @viennakarma @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @tinydeskwriter @ironmaiden1313 @splaterparty0-0 @formula1mount

[reidphobic]

trying hard not to get into trouble (but i’ve got a war in my mind) - s. r.

in which your criminology professor is just too tempting. 3359 words.

switch!spencer x switch!fem reader, questionable age gap & power dynamic, mild exhibitionism, authority kink, brief choking, praise, semi-public sex, oral (f and m receiving), mild degradation, no use of y/n

Your bare thighs stick uncomfortably to the plastic lecture hall chair, and you shift in your seat. Still, you focus diligently on the lecture, or, more specifically, on your professor. Dr. Reid is your favourite kind of challenge, a man you can’t have, the kind who won’t compromise his morals no matter how much he wants you — or, thinks he won’t.

You don’t miss the way his gaze lingers on you just a second too long, flickers down to your chest before he catches himself. Toying with him is the highlight of your week, coming up with new ways to torture him, push his boundaries as far as you can before he snaps. The semester is drawing to a close, though, and you haven’t quite snared your pretty professor yet, so you’re having to resort to drastic measures.

It’s like he’s deliberately avoiding you, eyes sliding over you as if you’re not even there. You hope that means your barely-there outfit is working as intended. Dr. Reid refuses to call on you to answer a question, stuttering through his sentences and raking his hand through his unkempt curls. You wonder if they’re soft to the touch, if he likes having them pulled, if— Focus. You raise one hand, digging through your bag with the other. When his attention is finally on you, you spout off some stupid question that’s believable enough not to arouse suspicion; he sees right through it, though, knows the ruse.

Out of politeness, Dr. Reid keeps his focus on you as he speaks. His words come out rapid-fire as if he’s trying to escape you before you do any more damage. It only makes him stumble more, and his struggle is frankly adorable. His reaction as you wrap your lips around a cherry-flavoured sucker is audible, a hitch in his breath and a waver in his voice as you smile innocently around the candy. From then, he can’t take his eyes off you, watching your red-stained tongue lap at sticky sugar, fist clenching and unclenching at his side.

You’ve got him right where you want him.

Leaning back in your chair, you smirk slightly, wait to draw his attention. When he meets your gaze, you spread your legs, give him a deliberate eyeful of the tiny scrap of lace between them. At that, you physically see him snap, rail against the constraints of his moral compass, finally, gloriously give in. A thrill skitters up your spine as he stops in front of your desk. “See me after class,” he murmurs, jaw clenched.

“Yes, Professor,” you breathe, licking your lips as your thighs clench under the table.

You linger as your class lets out, carefully reapplying your lipgloss while you wait for the room to empty. When you’re finally alone, you approach his desk cautiously. “You wanted to see me, Professor Reid?” you say delicately, suddenly uncertain — you might just be in for the reprimand of your life, and that’s no fun for anyone.

“If you’ll just come with me to my office,” he says tightly, staring resolutely past you as he stands from his desk. Desire pools under your skin, your every nerve alive with tension as Dr. Reid lets you into his office. The sound of the lock clicking shut falls straight between your thighs — that’s when you know you’ve got him. You sit demurely in his armchair, legs crossed as he puts as much distance between the two of you as possible, standing across the room with his arms folded protectively across his chest. “I think we need to discuss your behaviour in my classroom.”

You smile. “I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about, Professor,” you say, putting on a wide-eyed, naive look you’re sure he won’t fall for. Unconsciously, he steps towards you. 

Dr. Reid’s gaze is unreadable. “Really? That little stunt with the sucker, I— I know what you’re doing, and it has to stop, okay?” he says, and, oh. He’s the one pleading with you.

It makes sense, once you think about it. You know he used to be an FBI agent; a dangerous, high-stress job like that, it’s no surprise he’d want to shut off, hand over the control, be taken care of, entrust his pleasure entirely to someone else. “Why would I stop?” you pout. He’s close enough now that you could reach out and touch him. “I’m having so.” You take Dr. Reid’s tie delicately between your fingers. “Much.” You pull him in gently. “Fun.” You tug sharply on his tie, hard enough that he stumbles, bracing his hands on the arms of your chair.

He lets out a shaky gasp, like he’s expecting you to unhinge your jaw and swallow him whole. “This is… The, uh…” He clears his throat. “The way you’re acting in my class is not appropriate, and it needs to stop,” he says. You’d almost call it firmly, if not for the near-imperceptible tremor in his voice.

You note that he hasn’t pulled away. “I don’t think you want me to stop, Professor,” you murmur. “I think you want me to stop teasing you, and you want me to give you what you want.” Your smile widens the longer he stays silent; searching for the words to refute you, but the lie won’t come. “Tell me what you want, Doctor Reid,” you purr.

“I can’t,” he breathes. “You aren’t… It’s not…”

“Look at me and tell me you don’t want this,” you breathe, catching his jaw so he can’t look away.

His mouth opens, but no words come out, speechless in a way you’ve never seen him. “I… I’m twenty years older than you.”

You grin. “And?”

“I’m your teacher,” he protests, nearly a whine, and oh, isn’t that a delicious sound.

“So?”

“So?” Dr. Reid repeats, incredulous. “I can’t… have sex with you in my office!” he hisses, low as if someone might be listening in.

Your grin only widens, and you pull him down towards you, so close that his breath skates across your lips. He twitches nervously, like you’re close to breaking him, like he’s this close to doing something he’ll regret. “But you want to,” you murmur, cupping his jaw and letting your fingers trace his cheekbone. “Tell me, Professor… When was the last time you had something just because you wanted it, hm?” He shudders, eyes fluttering closed. “I’ll take real good care of you, sir, I promise.”

With a strangled groan, he gives in. The kiss is sudden, harsh like he’s furious with you for pulling him in like this. Soft lips give way to sharp teeth, greedy tongues, slotting together like you were moulded for him. Your hand slides up into his hair, tangling in his curls as you kiss him harder. A moan slips from your lips when you pull away for air, and the sound seems to drive him well and truly into madness. His lips meet yours with a renewed hunger, resting a hand at your jaw when he breaks away.

Spencer (you’ve just had your tongue down his throat, for God’s sake, you’ve earned the right to call him by his first name) strokes his thumb over your bottom lip, gazing down at you with awe and disbelief written across his face. He sucks in a sharp breath when you close your lips around his thumb, lapping at it just like the sucker from earlier. “You’re trying to kill me,” he breathes.

Releasing his thumb with a slick pop, you laugh. “Is that what you think?” You stand up, press your body into his. Spencer nods warily. “You’d know. If I was trying to kill you, I’d do something like this,” you murmur, sliding your hand up his throat and pressing down softly. His eyes flutter closed in surrender, and a filthy, spit-slick grin spreads wide across your lips. “You like that? Good boy,” you say silkily, letting go of his throat as he nods. “You gonna let me take care of you, Professor?”

“Please,” Spencer gasps, and when you let your gaze wander away from his flushed face and down his body, your lips part softly at the sight of him straining against his pants. You dip your head to kiss his neck, wishing you could bruise, make him yours, but you restrain yourself.

Rough carpet grazes your knees as you sink to the floor, hands coming up to work his belt open. You kiss him through his pants, slide his zipper down with your teeth. Spencer whines, and the sound sends a pulse of arousal through you. “So needy, sir,” you croon, slowly pulling him free of his boxers. It’s probably the prettiest you’ve ever seen, thick and hard in your palm, drooling precum as you lean in to kiss the tip. The salt taste of him fills your mouth and you moan involuntarily, his hips twitching as you pump his cock slowly.

Hands thread into your hair, but the touch is gentle, reverent, born from need rather than demand. Not that you’d say no to his manhandling you, but you get the sense that’ll take some time. “If you want something, it’s polite to ask,” you tease, holding Spencer’s hips when he tries to fuck into your hand.

“Fuck, please,” he hisses, and the obscenity slides deliciously up your spine. “You’re so pretty, baby, look so gorgeous down there. I want you so badly, I just— please?” Spencer whines, and he sounds so sweetly pathetic that you take pity on him, wrap your lips around his head. The moan that falls from his lips is made of pure lust, and you shiver, arousal dripping between your thighs.

You suck and lick at him, eager and teasing, moaning as the taste of him fills your mouth. Spencer trembles with the effort of holding still, not fucking up into your mouth, and his hands unconsciously tighten in your hair. “You can be a little rougher, if you want,” you say, sliding your palms up his clothed thighs and taking him in your mouth again. You moan around him as his cock bumps the back of your throat, swallowing a gag with practiced ease.

Spencer’s hand curls into a fist in your hair, your stomach clenching in anticipation. The gentle sting when he tugs just a little buzzes under your skin, and you moan enthusiastically around him, hollowing your cheeks and taking him even deeper. “Fuck,” he whines, hips jerking forward until his cock bumps the back of your throat. Heat throbs between your legs as he twitches on your tongue, and you can tell from the sounds he’s making that he’s close. 

You double your efforts, pulling off to lick around his head and drip spit along his length. Arousal throbs in your belly, hips grinding down against nothing. Slowly, you take him all the way back in, moan low in your throat when he’s buried to the hilt. You trace your tongue across the vein throbbing on his underside, and Spencer lets out the sweetest, most desperate little whimper you’ve ever heard. “I- I’m gonna cum, you’re gonna make me cum, fuck, baby, oh, my God,” he gasps, needy and adoring.

His voice trembles as he begs, so soft you’re not sure he knows he’s speaking aloud, and the way he pleads your name, fuck. Time blurs around you, your head goes hazy, pleasure knotting itself deliciously around your insides. Spencer gives a strangled moan, a garbled sound that might be your name, and that’s all the warning you get. You swallow greedily as he spills on your tongue, twitching and moaning and praising you through short, gasping breaths.

He’s still twitching with the aftershocks as you pull off, kneeling to smile blithely up at him. Spencer’s eyes are wide, sparkling with adoration as he struggles for breath. “How was that, Professor?” you tease. “Do I get an A?”

He gives a groaning sort of laugh, pulls you to your feet. “You’re unbelievable,” he says, still gazing into your eyes. It’s disarming, and you get the distinct impression he can read what you’re thinking as plainly as if it were stamped on your forehead. “Come here, come on,” he adds, pulling at your hips and pressing your body into his. You’re almost shocked when he kisses you, hard and greedy and hungry, the most aggressive he’s been this entire time. He sanitises his damn desk three times in a class, for God’s sake — you’d half expected him to hand you a toothbrush when you stood from the floor.

And yet, he’s kissing you breathless, and his hands are tangled in your hair, and his body is pressed so close to yours that you can barely tell where you end and he begins. “Thank you,” he mutters against your lips. “That was incredible. You’re incredible. You’ve gotta let me— Come here, sit,” he says, guiding you to sit on his desk. You balance between scattered papers, an uncapped pen bleeding a black stain into your skirt. 

“Let you do what, Doctor?” you say, quiet and breathy, gazing up at Spencer with wide, adoring eyes.

Spencer smiles, and something warms in your chest at the sight. Long, delicate fingers trace along your thigh, push up your skirt until your panties are on full display. “Pretty,” he remarks, maddeningly casual. “Did you wear these for me?”

“Of course, sir. I don’t dress up for boys anymore.” You swallow, bite your lip. You decide to lay it on a little thicker. “See, I need a man.”

“Is that so?” Spencer murmurs, hooking his fingers into the waistband of your panties. Your heartbeat quickens, excitement throbbing between your legs as he drags them down. “Look at you, sweet girl. So wet. Is that all from sucking my dick?” he teases, and you shudder.

You don’t know where the sudden obscenity, sudden dominance came from, but it thrills you all the same. “Mhmm,” you murmur. “What are you gonna do about it?” Smirking, Spencer picks up your panties, lets them dangle from his fingertips, red lace starkly incongruous from the calm, studious background of his office.

After a beat, his grin turns wicked and he tucks them into his pocket. “Safekeeping,” he says, tucking a stray wisp of hair behind your ear. The movement is so tender that it stops you in your tracks, a shimmering thread of something more than simple desire stringing between you. His eyes glitter, and you know he feels it too. Then, long fingers start to work at the buttons of your blouse. “I want to see all of you,” Spencer says, bending his head to kiss your lace-clad breast as your shirt falls open.

His hand skates up your thigh, oh-so close to where you need it. “Please,” you breathe. “Please, sir. I need you.” Spencer draws his hand away and you whine pathetically, your bare thighs suddenly impossibly cold.

“Be patient, sweet girl,” he says, low and almost dangerous. A thrill skitters up your spine as he sinks to his knees, gazing intently at your dripping wet core. “Beautiful,” he mutters, so quietly you don’t even think he’s talking to you. His hands slide up to your thighs again, spreading them apart gently. “Are you gonna let me taste you, beautiful?”

You nod frantically, cunt fluttering at his words. He kisses the inside of your knee, works his way down your thigh. A brief, bright spark of pain flickers through you as Spencer sucks a bruise into your skin and you moan. A rush of incredibly gratifying heat washes over you when you realise he’s marking you; a hidden little secret lying just beneath your polished exterior. Spencer won’t be able to see anything else when he looks at you. 

He pulls away from his assault on your thighs to look up at you, doe-eyed. “Tell me you want this. Please. I need to hear you say it.” You shudder, closing your thighs around his head and threading a hand into his curls so he can’t drag himself any further away.

“Spencer,” you moan. His eyes blow wide at the sound of his name from your lips. “Please. I need you,” you breathe. “Need you to make me cum, sir, please. Haven’t I been good for you? Don’t I deserve it?” You bite your lip to muffle a scream when Spencer leans in, licks a broad, flat stripe along your soaked core.

He’s methodical, at first, and you know somehow that he’s carefully cataloguing your responses. His tongue flicks over your clit, slow at first and then faster, pressure mounting between your thighs. Spencer moans into you, shifts his hips, and you realise: he’s getting off on this. A jolt of arousal so strong you literally pulse against his mouth rips through you, and you feel his lips curve into a smirk.

Big, soft hands dig hard into your thighs, pulling you flush against him like he could bury himself in you. “You taste so good, baby,” he whines, pressing his tongue flat against your hole as you grind your hips forward. Pleasure curls under your skin, swelling and pressing against your organs, crowding your mind until you can’t think, can’t feel anything but him. Your toes curl in your shoes, stomach clenching as your orgasm builds and builds. Breaking away, Spencer presses tender little kisses to your inner thighs, licks soothingly over his bite mark. 

Just as you’re starting to whine at the loss, he wraps his lips around your swollen clit. Sudden, electric ecstasy shoots through your body when he sucks on your sensitive nerves and it’s all you can do not to scream his name for the entire campus to hear. “Oh, fuck,” you whine instead, rocking your hips in a frantic, desperate rhythm. “M’so close, sir, please— You gotta let me— fuck!” you gasp, cunt clenching as he slides two fingers into you. You’re so wet that it’s easy, a slick slide as he pumps his fingers in and out of you.

“Good girl,” he murmurs. “Look how well you take me,” he says, staring openly at the point his fingers disappear into your body, your greedy cunt parted around them as wet, obscene noises fill the room. He kisses your clit softly and your legs kick out. “You’re gonna look so pretty taking my dick, hm?”

Your mind goes blank, pleasure thudding sickly in your throat, humming in your ears. “I want it,” you whine. “God, I want you to fucking— mmm— bend me over this desk ‘n— fuck— make me all stupid for you. Oh, God, Spencer, m’so close!” you cry, tugging at his hair and writhing helplessly.

“Go on, pretty girl,” Spencer says, softly urging. “Cum for me.” He pumps his fingers, licks at your clit, gently coaxes you over the edge. Your hands white-knuckle the edge of the desk as pure pleasure washes over you. Your body slumps, weak and powerless against the weight of your orgasm ripping through you. Spencer doesn’t let up, smiling into you as you write above him, murmuring soft praises that fade into a low buzz against your pulse hammering in your ears.

Spencer’s lips and chin glisten with your arousal, still kneeling between your legs as you struggle back to your body. “That was… Shit, I don’t know if I’ll be able to stand,” you giggle, testing your weight as you shuffle off his desk. Spencer leans down to kiss you, and the taste of yourself on his lips is dizzying. Pouting, you glance up at the clock hanging over his door. “I have class.”

As much as he wants to, Spencer won’t tell you to cut class, and you both know it. “Would you like to, uh…” He clears his throat, adjusts his tie, and just like that, he’s back to the sweet, nervous academic you’re used to. “Continue this discussion later? I’ll— I’ll be here all day.”

Your lips stretch wide in a saccharine smile as you slowly button your shirt. “Why, Doctor Reid, are you asking me to meet you after hours? How scandalous,” you giggle, pressing a soft, near-chaste kiss against his lips. “I’ll be back at six.”

[anas-aspiration]

Silence & the bedroom.

Summary: toxic!ellie x reader, You recently decided to keep distance from your situationship because of how she treated you. Ellie uses the fact that you’re heartbroken to get into your pants and it works.

Warnings: dildo (r!receiving), oral (r! Receiving), masturbation (e!receiving), making out, manipulation from ellie, kind of virginity loss (r!receiving) ellie kinda rough.

Taglist hehe: @clairoscharm

"You know she doesn't love you, right?" Ellie said, looking deep into your eyes.

You became silent. She said it so confidently it was almost like you're the weird one for thinking it was a bold thing to ask. Her hand lay on your thigh, drawing small shapes around your soft skin anticipating your answer. Even though you both had been best friends for years, it had still been the first time Ellie said anything of that nature to you.

"Um, well..." you sank further into the bed, searching your mind for a way to answer her question, because the truth is that you really don't know.

"It's okay..It's hard when someone treats you like that." She spoke softly, putting her hand up to your cheek.

"Yeah, it fucking sucked. Who the fuck leaves someone in the dark like that?” You began tearing up. “I felt like nothing.”

“Babe, you are not nothing. I love you.” She said, taking your face in both hands.

“I love you too Ellie.” Your expression lifted.

There was a quiet moment filled with tension between the two of you. With every second passed you both inched closer to each other, without a word exchanged, and your lips locked.

Her hands fell from your face down to your sides. She was moving quickly. The kiss deepened and she took your hand in hers leading it to your shorts which was her way of telling you to take them off. You backed out of the kiss, hands still frozen in place.

“What are we doing?” You whispered.

“You need this baby. Don’t you want to feel loved?”

Your eyes gave a blank expression, but you nodded. Time blurred in your dazed little head. The only things you were aware of now were Ellies hands on you and the ache in your heart, and she could tell because of the way your eyelids drooped at each lick of her tongue that you were hers now.

“Ellie..” You moaned out while arching your back into her.

“I know baby..” she mumbled softly between your thighs. She knew everything, about you, about this situation, she held the cards. She was well aware that you never gotten exactly this far with anyone else. You never liked anyone enough to bother. “Mm baby?”

You lifted your head off the pillows to look at her, your expression turning euphoric at the sight of her below you continuing to work at you between words.

“Do you think you can take a little more?“ She looked at you with puppy dog eyes. “For me?”

“Yes yes. Please.” You pleaded.

She took her fingers out of you, causing your breath to become shallow. She quickly returned from her closet with a pink dido. She tapped your lips twice.

“Open.”

You complied.

She didn’t waste a second teasing or even preparing you before she went as far into your throat as she could. She did give you a second to breathe after this but then continued at a steady pace, earning sweet gagging sounds from you. She slipped a hand into her pajama pants so swiftly it almost didn’t catch your attention. You could already hear how wet she was, had you wondering how long she had this planned. The whole night?

She finally let you breathe, dragging the dildo down past your stomach and to your slit. Your heart was racing, but you kept a brave face without struggle.

You winced as she brought it inside of you yet adjusted to the stretch in seconds. It wasn’t long before she found a rhythm pumping her fingers into herself while also handling you.

“Fuck, you’re ughh- so beautiful like this.” She groaned above you.

All you could do was stare up at her, yearning for something you were already receiving. It felt like something was missing. She was sitting with one leg under the other, hand still pumping underneath her boxers, and on her face she wore this expression telling you she was close. She began bucking into her palm, causing you to meet her pace with your hips.

“I’m close..” you mumbled.

She didn’t respond, looking like she wasn’t even acknowledging your presence rather trying to chase her high. With a fee more pumps, she Let out a lengthy moan, pushing the dildo far as she could into you by reflex, and causing you to come with her. There was a few moments of heavy breathing between the two of you, and that aching feeling in your heart disappeared. The feeling had gradually faded, and as you opened your eyes, you saw Ellie avoiding your gaze, regret etched across her face. Your heart sank even deeper than it had been before.

A/n! I decided to make it just toxic ellie instead of toxic ex ellie. Also feel like this wasn’t toxic enough for some people cause other drabbles be literally insaneee, but whatever. Hope you liked it😊 and if you have any ideas request them I will like 99% do them and quick.

[chrissv4mp]

𐙚 NEED YOU

Her hands slowly run up and down your sides, drawing unimaginable shapes on your smooth skin as she awaited your next moves. Her eyes are so soft, so sad and filled to the brim with desire. Billie lets out a shaky sigh, biting her lip in an attempt to keep her emotions and urges under control, "Please, Ma. Jus' wanna be inside you." She begs quietly, voice shaky and broken from her endless pleas for you to sink down on her cock.

You shake your head, much to her disappointment—but she should've known that would be your answer. Her body is trembling beneath your own, head falling against your bare chest, giving you a front row seat to her pathetic, whiny moans and whimpers. A sad cry leaves her lips, swollen and red from biting down on them and kissing you so roughly an hour prior. Her hips buck, pushing the tip of the strap against your cunt softly.

It doesn't affect you as much as it should've in any other scenario, and you know Billie hates it—hates how you don't moan even from the slightest of touches. But, she won't disobey or say anything. Instead, she tries her luck at begging again, "Made me wait so long. Can't... can't do it n'more." She shakes her head, slurring her words together due to headspace you pushed her so far into.

The second her hands make a weak attempt to pull you down, you tilt her head back against the headboard, making her look directly at you, "Such a needy girl," you tsk, grip on her chin tight enough to leave marks. She squirms at your words, her own arousal coating her thighs. She nods her head fervently, her desperation reaching a point past no return, "Really wan' me that bad, yeah?" Your voice is condescending, full of authority as you ask her the question.

"Yeah—Yes, Mommy, yes." She breathes, heart beating frantically in her chest, her grip on your hips tightening enough to form bruises in the shapes of her large hands. Her eyes dart between each of your eyes, then to your lips, repeating the motion over and over again until she finally feels you begin to sink down on her strap. Her lips part in a quiet moan, almost like she can feel the way your walls envelope the silicone.

As soon as your cunt swallows her entire length, her hips struggle not to snap up into you, eyes focused on yours the entire time despite her mind telling her to take in the beautiful sight of her strap filling your pussy to the brim, "So... so pretty, Mommy. Can—Can I move? Please, please, plea—" Billie's mewls are cut off with a moan from your own lips as you begin to bounce on the silicone cock. Her eyes widen, taking it as a sign to thrust her hips up, her strap digging deeper in your wet cunt.

"Want'chu to cum on my cock, Ma, please. Need it so bad.." Billie whines, hands sliding up your body and stopping just below your tits. She waits for your permission, eyes trained on yours, "C'mon, don't be shy, baby." You tease, lips parting again as her hands cup your tits, thumbs rubbing circles along your nipples and feeling them harden beneath the pads of her fingers. She doesn't ask for permission this time, lips latching onto one of your nipples as she continues her thrusts and her kneading motions on your other boob.

The way your walls squeeze against her cock makes it hard for her to fuck you, but she makes an effort to nonetheless, looking up at you through her lashes to gauge your reactions to the pleasure she was giving you. She never wanted this to stop; your quiet whimpers and shaking body, the way you spoke to her in such a demanding tone, and the way you had her under such control, "Close? Are—Mommy, are you?" She whines, pulling away from your nipple to finally look down at your pretty pussy.

"Ma, am I—M'I doing a good job?" She asks, chest rising and falling in uneven breaths, hips moving faster in an effort to get you closer to the edge. She needed you to cum more than you did yourself. You nod, eyes locking onto hers despite the overwhelming pleasure you were receiving, "So good. My good girl." You praise, biting your lip as you clenched around the silicone. The tip of her cock kisses your cervix, and the knot in your stomach almost immediately comes undone.

"Makin' me feel so fuckin' good, Bills..!" You groan, eyes rolling back as you fall forward, head resting on her shoulder as you bounce on her cock the best you could. Billie smiles proudly, hips bucking up against yours to help you ride out your high. When you start to whine for her to stop, she doesn't, her mind too foggy and filled with the determination to get you off, "No more, baby—fuck." You sigh, thighs shaking.

"Cum—Mm'gonna make you cum. Again." Billie babbles, humming quietly as she gulps. She needed to get you off that edge again—even if it meant disobeying and overstimulating you in the process. But, she was still gonna be your good girl. She hoped, "W-Wanna make you feel good." She stutters, hips pushing up sloppily as her hands come down to grip at your waist again, pulling you down against her cock.

"Billie." You breathe, voice laced with more control and dominance than before. Her hips quickly stop, her grip on your waist becoming loose. She looks up into your eyes, noticing the power swirling deep in your e/c irises, "No more, baby." You whisper, shaking your head in disapproval and eliciting a whine from between her pretty, plump lips. You lean forward, kissing her forehead softly before pulling away, "Did so good f'me."

𐙚 amiyaps : for @47lake !! praying this is good 🙏

𐙚 tags : @mseilishmwah @sophloveswomen @mxqdii @livvydunneness @vyntagess @afteraftercare @wiidfi0wer33 @loving1dsworld @tan1shere @fallingforfalll2 @cierraonline @dandelions4us @scarlittt @ifwdominicfike @slxtarchive @stonerfromlesbos @bilsdillldough @hopingforgoodblogs @karaeilishh @hopelessfawn @zayluvss @meliciousmel13

[mistymisfit]

Dirty A-Z headcanon game  

MINORS DNI!!!

Implied that reader is shorter than Jason. Most are GN reader, except the pet names (princess and ma) but other than no specified gender :)

My personal headcanons. Sorry everyone, I don't think he'd be all that kinky, he just needs some affection fr. I have a Dick Grayson version on my drafts, and he is a slut so wait for that one lol.

Finished this draft trying to get out of writer's block, I don't think it worked lol.

edit: fixed some typos

A - Alone time (how do they get off when they’re all by themselves? do they watch porn, is it all in their imagination, do they jerk off, do they use toys?)

On nights where he spends too much time away from you, and he starts missing your your kisses, your warmth, your jokes, your hands on him, and his on you, he's forced to take out the big guns. That encrypted (mentioned in point P) folder he keeps as protected as he can for your safety. It has a few videos, some of them more intense, others more goofy with you two laughing. The one he watches the most is the one that begins with him telling you to say something to check the sound and you reply with "I love you" a sweet smile on your lips. The camera's then hurriedly left on the nightstand, and your giggling ensues with him kissing you all over your face.

B - Bondage (do they like it? do they not? do they prefer to be the one being tied or the one doing the tying?)

Absolutely against being the one tied up, past traumas and all, he needs to be able to move for his peace of mind. Completely opposite opinion if you're the one being tied, especially if he's tying your wrists with his costume's garrote (ribbons).

C - Crying (is it a turn on? a turn off? do they cry during sex? have they cried during sex? what was the reason?)

Very much into you crying, and he definitely feels conflicted about it. He wants nothing more than seeing you happy and safe, so why is his dick getting hard when he sees tears streaming down your pretty face? Also, yes, he cries during sex!!! It's not always, but sex is such a vulnerable moment for him--something he struggles with very much, so he can't help but shed a few tears. And you're also into it. Truly matching each other's freaks.

D - Dominance (do they prefer to dominate, or be dominated? do they have experience as a Dom? Do they have a Dom that they trust already? What kind of things do they enjoy as/with their Dominant partner?)

Prefers dominating, low-key a control freak, and is obsessed with the amount of trust you have on him. If he's letting you take control, it's in a more "let me take care of you, baby" way. On some occasions, more often than he'd like to admit he enjoys it more when you both refuse to let the other take charge, usually happens after an argument (see next point). He'd never admit it but he likes that more than anything.

E - Extra info (any other fetishes? feet? leather? role playing? blood? fantasies that they might want to experience not on this list?)

Marking: He would never hurt you, really. But there's something about his teeth leaving a mark on your skin, the whimper you let out every time he does it, and the soft kiss he leaves behind after he's done. God forbid he draws blood, it drives him up the wall. It's only fair game that he'd let you do it too, catching himself proudly smirking when he catches a glimpse of the scratches you left across his back. Or the time you bit his shoulder as you came, he followed shortly after. He's never lost his composure that fast before.

Role-Playing: It started with you joking once, playing damsel in distress and acting like he'd just saved you from a life-threatening situation, but it awoke something in him. Something something about calming his anxieties about not being able to keep you safe. He asked if you could do it more often, you nodded excitedly. If you knew it'd get him so riled up, you'd put yourself in danger earlier. Would love to fuck in his Red Hood get up but he thinks it'd be too impersonal to you--you'd agree in a second if he asked.

Praise kink: He needs you to tell him he's good, that you want him. You told him "I need you, Jay," and he's never taken his clothes off so fast. Most times it's not sexual; he just loves hearing you tell him he's doing a good job.

Make up sex: Jason likes seeing you mad, something about how feisty you get and how you could be as stubborn as him turns him the fuck on. He likes how rough you both get, gripping each other's clothes, hair pulling and biting harder than what you two usually do. Sometimes he starts arguments for this sole reason.

F - Food play (do they like using food in the bedroom? are there any foods they prefer to use during sex or foreplay? any they’d like to try?)

He got hit with fear toxin one time, you spent a couple of days taking care of him until he came down from a nasty fever. A side effect to the antidote Alfred and Bruce couldn't work out yet. You spoon-fed him soup, and he swears he fell in love with you all over again. If he hadn't been so sick he would've knocked over the plate and kissed you senseless.

Also! He likes watching you eat whatever he cooks. Sometimes he waits for you at home with dinner ready, well aware you always come back home starving. Most times, too hungry to cook a decent meal. So watching you sigh when you take your first bite, telling him how good it is, how much of a good boyfriend he's for doing this for you, his blush reaches his ears. He's just winning his way to your bedroom heart with food.

G - Group sex (would they have a threeway? four? an orgy? do they put on a show for spectators? or do they like to keep it just between them and their partner?)

Another no for him. Jason's not good at sharing, he's way too possessive to share your attention. And honestly, it'd hurt his ego a little bit if you were to suggest it. He's insecure, so his mind would instantly go to "I'm not enough"

H - Humiliation (does degradation and insults get them hot? do they get off on humiliating someone else? what kind of humiliation is good for them?)

See point E. He's too in love to call you a bitch. He's not exactly opposed to the idea of having kids with you someday if you wanted to, and he just can't imagine calling the future mother of his kids a whore. However, he's not past calling you a "fucking brat" if you keep on teasing him or using a mocking tone every once in a while like "Aw, is it too much? Thought you said you were a big girl"

I - Impact play (here’s where talking about things like spanking, paddles, canes, floggers and the like.)

Not specifically into spanking but has slapped your ass before, heart skipping a beat when his hand left an imprint on your skin. You could awake something in him if you tried, for sure.

J - Jelly (what kind of lube are they using? is it flavored? have they tasted it? do they prefer to use something other than real lube during sex?)

He's a big boy, so you could imagine what he's got under his pants is proportionate to the rest of him. He'd use it to make sure he won't hurt you, but he's more old fashioned prefering making you cum a couple times to prep you.

K - Kissing (what parts of their body do they like having kissed? what parts of their partner do they enjoy kissing? do they like leaving marks / having marks left on them?)

He's a hungry kisser, knocks the air out of your lungs, grabbing your face, knocking things over as you take a step back not to fall type of kiss. Tied in with C, he likes kissing the tears off your face. Most random spots he likes to kiss are the back of your knees and your ankles when he puts them on his shoulders. If he's sitting down and you're standing in between his legs, petting his head, he'll most likely kiss your stomach.

He has a spot, his pulse point on his neck, not easy to reach considering his height, so he has to be in a horizontal position for you to reach. You kiss him there, and he melts instantly. And his back, if you manage to cuddle as the big spoon and start pressing kisses across his back, he could pass out right there. Matter of fact, any kiss from you makes him melt, he's touch starved, so any contact you initiate flusters him.

L - Lighting (are the lights on? off? do they have some kind of mood lighting set up?)

At first, off. You have to work your way until he's comfortable enough to have some dim lights on. He's too afraid to scare you off with his scars.

M - Masochism (do they like pain? scratching? biting? being bossed around? spoken down to? choked?)

Scratching, biting, are all fair game with him. He's a bit feral like that. Doesn't like being spoken down; his ego's fragile enough from all his own self-hatred. Being bossed around? He's almost incapable of following orders, this man had no figure of authority before Bruce when he was a kid.

N - Not yet (orgasm delay? orgasm denial? do they tell their partner not to touch themselves for a certain amount of time or under certain circumstances? do they delay or deny other things like bathroom usage or food? do they need to beg first? do they like being denied / delayed?)

He's tried, seriously, but all you had to do was beg a little and look at him with those glassy eyes, and his resolve faded away fast. He's unable to say no to you; you know it and often use it to your advantage.

O - Outdoor sex (have they ever done it in public? would they? where?)

Yes, on his car, the bat-mobile he stole once just out of spite (Bruce was well aware he took it- and traumatized to find out his adoptive son's reasons) and against his bike on an empty parking lot (that one was pure wish fulfillment for him)

P - Photography (are cameras allowed in the bedroom? do they send nudes? do they ask for nudes? would they ever record themselves having sex / being caught up in a sexual act?)

For safety reasons he doesn't keep any pictures or videos on any phone (he's got many). HOWEVER, he has a couple of encrypted-not even Babs wouldn't be able to hack- videos of you two for times he stays away from you for long.

Q - Quiet please (what’s the volume like in the bedroom? are they quiet? do they scream? do they like a loud partner? do they prefer if their partner is more soft spoken?)

He whimpers!!! he acts though but he's a whimperer!!! It takes a while before you warm him up to make more noise, he was shy at first. On the other hand if you were quiet he'd worry, he need some encouragement to know he's doing good.

R - Routine (do they have a routine when it comes to picking up one night stands? do they have scheduled sex with their partner? are things spontaneous or planned ahead of time?)

Jason's not really one for one night stands, he has problems with vulnerability--and intimacy as a consequence. He's more of a spur of the moment guy; everything else he does is planned-- stopping some villains' plans, striking a drug trade deal--, so he's glad he gets to be more spontaneous with you.

Once you're in an established relationship, and he knows you're okay with him being blunt, he'd straight up ask you. "Can we have sex when I get back home?" you got a text while he was out on patrol; you blushed and giggled before telling him "yeah" and "wake me up if I fall asleep." he replied with a smiley emoji.

"Babe?" His hands held your hips, correcting your posture. You could feel the warmth radiating from his body behind you, and there's no reason why he should be sticking this close to you. He insisted on teaching you some self-defense moves, so now you were both sweaty, the furniture in your shared apartment moved so you could have more space to move freely. Sure, he could've brought you down to the cave, but this was more private and intimate. You hummed in response, eyes looking up at him. "Wanna ruin the carpet?"

Or he catches you bending over, your arms resting on the kitchen island, mindless watching something on your phone. He stands behind you, hands grabbing your hips. You look back, and you're about to ask him what he's doing when he wins, saying "Haven't had you like this in a while, you busy right now?"

S - Sleepy sex (do they give oral to wake their partner up? do they like receiving oral to wake up? do they like fucking their partner awake? being fucked awake? how about being fucked to sleep at night? do they have lazy morning sex?)

Being fucked awake would probably be too overwhelming for him. And no matter how many times you told him it's okay, he probably wouldn't like that doing it to you. BUT he's very much waking you up kissing you so you could have lazy, half asleep, sex. In his head, it feels extra intimate, even more if he does it in the attempt to make you stay in bed with him a little longer.

T - Top or bottom (self explanatory…)

U - Underwear (what kind of underwear do they put on in the morning, if any at all… do they own any sexy underwear or lingerie?)

In your opinion, the sexiest underwear he could wear is a towel right after he showers, hair still dripping water onto his chest. It makes you come up behind him, wrapping your arms around his uncovered torso as he looks for clean clothes in his drawer. You stand on your tip toes to press your lips between his shoulder blades. He turns around, smirking and already knows exactly what you want.

"We'll get the bed wet" He reasons

"Don't care" You smile, fingers tracing his v line stopping where the towel starts.

V - Voyeurism (do they like to watch, or are they more hands on? are they more of an exhibitionist?)

Wouldn't like anyone seeing you two in that situation. Even if he convinced you to have sex in a risky place most times, he's already gotten rid of any possible outcome where you two end up on a certain list. Also watching? He can barely keep his hands to himself around, in a sexual way or not. He's just touch starved like that.

W - Water (pool sex? bath / shower sex? are they into watersports at all?)

I may be biased but I don't really think he'd be into watersports lmao.

Shower sex is a yes, he particularly loves when he comes back from patrol and you get in the shower with him, helping wash the blood off. He's always a bit shaken when he comes home, thinking about his own mortality and how fragile life is, and it ends up with something else. Just to feel alive. Jason's very fond of moments where you run him a bath, in the hopes of calming his nerves and the soreness in his muscles. You'd sit next to him, outside the tub, washing his hair. He'd always manage to find a way to convince you into getting in and riding him.

X - X-dressing (do they crossdress as a part of teasing / foreplay? does crossdressing turn them on? turn their partner on? do they prefer to do it or watch their partner crossdress instead? do they use other costumes? cat ears, tails, etc?)

Not exactly cross dressing lol. But if he catches wearing any of his clothes, it's over for him. You put on his Red Hood muzzle once, and he couldn't get it out of his head for a month straight.

Y - Yes, Master (what kinds of names are used during sex? do they like being called master / mistress, daddy, etc…? what names do they call their partner?)

Him to you: Sweet pet names, most used are princess, pretty, baby, him calling you ma with a breathless sighs makes you want to jump his bones--again.

You to him: Handsome, if you want to see his entire face turn red. He also likes hearing you moan his name. My love, you called him this once while sitting on his lap and felt his attitude change, clearing his throat, and moving you away from his crotch.

Z - Zones (what are their erogenous zones? what spots on their body should be touched, bitten, kissed, when someone wants to get them in the mood?)

Like mentioned before, his pulse point on his neck. If he's mad at you, all you have to do is trace your fingers under his shirt and over the hem of his pants, and he's already forgotten why he was pissed off to begin with. You were play fighting with him once and dragged your teeth through his bicep, threatening to bite if he didn't let you go, he didn't silently waiting for you to sink your teeth into his skin. Even hoped for a scar, a permanent mark that didn't come from violence but affection.

[talaok]

Love your writing! Could we please do a cute pregnant reader x Pedro going to and at the SAG awards in honour of our boy winning! 🤍🙏🏼

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x pregnant!reader

a/n: this is how i found out he won btw. I'm so happy for him i cant even, I just love that fucking guy gosh ahhhh (as always this request skipped the line bc it wouldnt make sense in a month)

Gif credits: @tessas-thompson

"thank you" you told him as he emerged from underneath your bump after having slipped your shoes on for you.

Turns out that when you're 7 months and a half pregnant, the most basic tasks like putting on shoes become a two person job.

He only smiled, kissing your belly and then your lips before standing up, offering you a hand to do the same.

"Heels would have looked much better with this dress" you pouted, studying yourself in the mirror, 

You hated ballerinas, but again, you weren't really in the condition to wear anything else.

"You look stunning sugar" he promised, kissing the crown of your head

You couldn't help but snort.

As much as he told you so over and over, together with everyone else in your life... you still struggled to see it, especially now in this uncomfortable dress.

"I look like a stuffed turkey" you sighed "and my boobs are so much bigger than when I first tried this dress, now they look a move away from spilling out"

His eyes twinkled with kindness, with love as he placed his hands on your waist and turned you towards him, away from your reflection.

"You're beautiful sweetheart" he promised, one hand now stroking your cheek as your own hands went to his waist "You're sexy and gorgeous and so fucking hot that if Coco wasn't still here I would demonstrate just how much right here right now" he growled, not giving you time to answer before he kissed you, soft at first, and then once you whimpered, it was like a switch turned and he was fiery and passionate and his left hand trailed to your ass and-

"Pedro!" you scolded him quietly, eyeing Coco on the other side of the room.

"she's seen worse"

She had.

Nonetheless, he took a step back, returning his hand to your waist.

"Thank you" you murmured, looking up into his hazel eyes "and by they way, you look very beautiful too"

You could have sworn you saw red staining his cheeks 

"thank you baby"

You adjusted his shirt, as you got lost in your own mind.

There he was, you beautiful, talented, Emmy, golden globe and SAG award nominated husband, looking every bit as perfect as ever.

And just like that, tears pooled in your eyes

"what's wrong?" he asked, worried

"I just-" you sniffled, trying to fight the tears as your lips trembled "I-I'm so proud of you"

"aw sweetheart" he cooed, half laughing as he wrapped you into his arms.

He'd gotten used to it now, taking care of your over-emotional self was part of his daily routine.

"Y-you just" you cried "you worked so hard a-" another quiet sob "and n- now you're finally getting the recognition you deserve I-"

"I know baby, I know" he cooed, softly kissing the top of your head "thank you" he smiled, his fingers drawing soothing circles on your back "It means a lot to me too,"

"I love you" you murmured, finally raising your head to look at him

"I love you too honey" he kissed you, laughing softly as he pulled back to see tears still running down your cheeks "You're gonna cry the whole night, aren't you?"

"I made the makeup artist use only waterproof products" was your way of saying yes, yes I'm going to, and yes I've already planned ahead

He chuckled, kissing your forehead as his hands trailed to your bump, soft kicks hitting his palms.

"She's excited" he murmured

"She's proud of her daddy too" 

__ __ __

Pedro Pascal.

Pedro Pascal.

Pedro P-

Your husband. they had called your husband.

It was probably comical from the outside, seeing the shock on both your faces as you stared blankly at each other, the way your mouth gaped open, while he slapped a hand onto his, it was like- it was like time had stopped, and the word went completely quiet, until- until-

"oh my god" you breathed, throwing your arms around him and hugging him so tight it probably hurt

He didn't dare speak a word as you leaned away, landing a kiss on his mouth as you gripped his face 

"go" you laughed, grinning like an idiot as tears glimmered into your eyes "go" you urged again, this time, having him comply.

You watched every step, every move, until he was right in front of the microphone, his award in his hands.

"This is umh" he mumbled "This is wrong for a number of reasons-" 

he was in shock, his voice trembling, his eyes watery, but he kept going

"b-but thank you hbo, Bella Ramsey, Craig Mazin, Neil Drukman, Frannie, and -" A shaky sigh fled his mouth, as he chuckled to himself "jeez louise I'm making a fool of myself and my wife is gonna make so much fun of me for it and-"

All the sudden his eyes were on you, 

"my wife" he smiled, his smile brighter than the sun "I wanna thank my beautiful, amazing, intelligent, and perfect wife" he said "I love you y/n, I love you and our daughter more than anything in this world and if I'm here today- If I'm here today is mostly because of you" 

You were shaking from how hard you were crying, from how happy, ecstatic, and euphoric you were for him.

"You've made me the happiest man on this earth, you've made me a dad, you- you're my everything sweetheart" he beamed "so thank you"

He stopped a moment, as if realizing only now this had all really happened

"And now I'm gonna stop talking 'cause I need to get down there to kiss you and try to make you stop crying" he laughed, ending his speech

"thank you, everybody, really, thank you"

__ __ __ 

He did exactly as he said,

he held you tight as he kissed you like the world was gonna end tomorrow, like if he didn't he was gonna die

And when he leaned away- when he leaned away time stopped once again, but as he pressed his forehead to yours, as you lost yourself in each other's eyes, you remembered

"You said it was wrong" you said, both your hands holding his face "but it's not" you shook your head, watching his eyes water "you deserve this baby, you do"

"sweetheart-"

"no" you shut him off, your voice hoarse from the sobs, but it didn't matter, you wanted him to know, you needed him to know "No I need you to understand that you do baby" You smiled "that you worked your ass off and that you deserve every single inch of this award" you took a deep breath, steadying your voice as you looked at him, so many unspoken words traveling between you

"ok?" you asked, finally

"ok" he beamed, kissing you again "God I love you so much"

[xoxochb]

no but imagine percy being part of a band (being the guitarist more specifically) fucking you before getting on stage?

well, my boyfriend'sss in a bandddd, he plays guitar while I singgg lou reeddddd

——— ౨ৎ ⊹ ࣪ ˖

“perce, we—” you’re going to get caught. if your sentence hadn’t been cut off by a low guttural moan you would’ve finished it and said that.

because if your first million (half) protests weren’t enough, percy didn’t really care. you feel two of his calloused— from all his years of guitar playing— fingers slipping into you, thumb gently rubbing over your clit in opposition to his pointer and middle fingers curling delectably inside of you.

this is so wrong. in less than ten minutes he’s going on stage to use his fingers that are plugged between your velvety folds to strum his guitar, and you have to watch and act like he wasn’t just fingering you.

but it’s so right— the pleasurable feeling is unexplainable, though the feeling in the bottom of your tummy says enough for your mouth. and you desperately want more of this sensation. and it’s risky, yes, very, but you’re willing to take that risk.

you struggle to search for oxygen, your poor lungs giving up on you so easily, traitor. you dig your nails into the skin of percy’s bicep, attempting to draw blood, a silent way of telling him that he has to hurry.

yet he takes his time anyways, slowly swirling his fingers into you, eliciting soft sighs from you, that you try your best to stifle so his bandmates aren’t able to hear you from wherever they are. you bite down on your lip hard.

“percy,” you moan. “we— mhmm— we can’t…”

that’s enough, isn’t it? has to be because that’s about all you can say at the moment.

“I know, sweet girl.” percy pecks your neck delicately, completely disregarding what you’d like. because for one, he knew you wanted this as much as he did, and for two, he also didn’t care.

you whine and plead his name again, this time as he quickens his pace, urgently trying to muster your climax as you presume he realizes the time crunch you’re on right now.

he gingerly kisses your neck and works at disarranging your insides until your orgasm hits you soon enough, too quick for your liking at that (though you do know this won’t be the last one tonight). he whispers tender sweet nothings in your ear as you writhe beneath him, soothing you to a normal state for both your sake and to save you from embarrassment if you walked out disoriented.

when he slides his digits out of you, he licks them clean of your arousal, watching as you collect yourself. though that time runs short when you hear yelling somewhere outside of the room. swiftly, you push percy off of you and rush to grab your discarded panties across the room, sliding them back up your legs and back underneath your denim skirt.

“suppose that’s my queue,” says percy from the couch, but now walking towards you.

you cross your arms and glare up at him, one hand finding your waist, the other smoothing out your hair before kissing the top of your head. “see you out there?”

“‘course ya will.”

“great,” he kisses your lips once and begins to walk out, yet stops at the door to say one last thing, “and a tip… you might want to button your top back up.”

and then he’s gone.

you look down to your shirt, surely agreeing with his point since it’s entirely unbuttoned, exposing the lacy bra— currently the only thing underneath.

good tip.

[charliemwrites]

Part 2 of Neighbor!Johnny!

(Feeling a bit ✨naughty✨ this Christmas Eve so… here.)

After the fight with Ryan, you try to keep your distance from Johnny — keep the peace and all that. The more you think about the accusations your husband made… the more that guilty pit in your stomach grows.

It’s all been platonic, at least on your end. Sure, you let Johnny get away with a bit more than the average stranger, but he’s a good friend! Nothing you wouldn’t let one of your other friends do. (Even if you would find the lingering touches and general disregard for personal space a little strange from someone else.)

Sure, you have a suspicion every now and then that Johnny has more than platonic feelings for you… but they’re fleeting. Every time you worry that he’s about to cross a line, he always draws away from it. Evens out his smile, break his gaze, drops his hand. You’re close, that’s all.

But… if it’s bothering your husband. Well, you’re obligated to take that into account, aren’t you?

Even if you ache, missing your friend. Missing his silly little jokes, his cheeky grin. Miss his company while you do laundry, a helping hand in the yard, even just someone to chat with over podcasts and tv shows.

Hell, you miss hugs. Ryan’s never been big on… affection. Especially not in public.

(Barely in the house, either, really. You’ve tried talking to him about it. He swears he loves you, he just doesn’t show affection that way. You struggle to figure out why that’s so with you when he has no problem hugging his mother, sister, hell, even his secretary.

Actually… you struggle to figure out how he shows you affection. So you’ve stopped trying to figure it out at.)

But Johnny. Oh, Johnny is just so sweet to you. A hug when he greets you, a hug before he leaves. A kiss to your cheek when you hand him a drink or a snack. A hand on your hip when he leans past you to get things from high shelves. Nudges to your thighs during good parts of shows.

You miss it. Him. The friendship you’ve built in your too-quiet home, where the other neighbors seem to like your husband so much more than you.

“What’s goin’ on, hen?” Johnny asks one morning. You’ve been keeping coffee dates meetups on the porch. Which is almost worse, because it’s cold and you find yourself cuddling up to the heat he exudes like a furnace. “Hardly seen you in a month; miss my best girl.”

“Sorry, Johnny,” you sigh, rubbing at your face. Ryan’s been working late most days this week, comes in so late and wakes you up. “Just… Ryan, ya know.”

His jaw tightens, eyes flashing dangerously. You’re reminded suddenly, inexplicably, of just what Johnny does for a living. How often you’ve seen him just back home with blood still buried in his nail beds.

“Dinnae, hen,” he replies. “What about ‘im?”

You fidget, eyes on your half-empty mug. It feels wrong, admitting relationship quibbles to someone outside of family. You used to have a policy that marriage matters should stay within the marriage. But… it’s hard when it feels like you’re the only one working on the marriage. It’s a lot of work to do alone.

“He just… he doesn’t think it’s proper,” you admit, “how… how often you’re over. How close we are.”

“That so?”

You hunch your shoulders, feeling wrong. Feeling guilty for a whole new reason; for disappointing Johnny.

“Look at me, bonnie?”

He has to tip your chin up with his hand to get you to meet his eyes. His expression is softer than you expect.

“What about you, eh?”

“Me…?” You blink, peering up at him through your lashes.

“Yer feelings are all I care about, hen.”

“Johnny,” you sigh, trying to reprimand, but sound more pleading instead. He shakes your head a bit, gently; his own reprimand.

“Answer me, bonnie.”

“I like spending time with you,” you whisper.

The corners of his mouth twitch up as he hums.

“‘Course ye do,” he hums, “‘n I like spendin’ time with you. It’s not fair of ‘im, is it?”

You blink, brows pulling together in confusion. Johnny continues, the thumb on your chin gently stroking.

“Not fair of ‘im to keep you all cooped up here, come home so late, neglect ye when he is around,” he coos. “And now he’s tellin’ you to keep away from your best friend.”

He tsks, that dangerous glint in his eyes again.

“Wastin’ his tongue for bullshite when he should be usin’ it to lick your pretty pussy.”

Your mouth drops open, shock and heat flooding you hotly. “Johnny!” You gasp, scandalized.

He finally cracks a grin again. “Tell me I’m wrong, bonnie, ‘m not! When’s the last time he worked you over the way you deserve, huh? When’s the last time he made you squirt all over your sheets?”

You shove at him and then cover your burning face, trying not to squirm. Can’t answer because it would be proving him right and you don’t want to encourage his scandalous teasing.

“Bet he’d try to make you change ��em even if he did,” Johnny grumbles, shaking his head. “Disgraceful. You ought to be put to sleep on a nice, thick cock.”

Whack!

“Oi! What was that fer?!”

“You’re being a creep, Johnny!” Your stern tone in undercut by your embarrassed laughter. “Quit talking about my shitty sex life.”

“So it is shitty!”

“Shut up!”

When a discreet box shows up at your door two days later, you know exactly who it’s from.

…that doesn’t stop you from using the (shockingly detailed and realistic) dildo inside the packaging.