lilwriter-blog1

[lilwriter-blog1]

06

“You’re my prettiest mistake.” + Burnie

You watch as he dresses quickly, fingers flying over the buttons with the efficiency that only comes from practice.

“This was a mistake.” He runs a hand over his face, rigorously rubbing over his skin hard enough for it to be slightly red when his hand falls to his side.

Burnie pulls a ring out of his trouser pocket and slips it on the fourth finger of his left hand.

You don’t look at him. “Can’t you stay? Just this once?”

“It’s never just once with you.” He sighs, deep and heavy. “I should go back.”

You don’t respond. How could you?

“You’re my prettiest mistake,” he says, eyes running over your disheveled form, a mess of limbs and sheets and skin littered in the marks that were pressed into you only hours ago, “even if what I’m doing is ugly.”

Before he can leave with his signature tormented look- at the thought of leaving you or lying to her, you’re not sure- you stand before him, naked and captivating. You press the barest of kisses to his lips.

“It might be wrong, but this isn’t a mistake. We’re not a mistake. Not anymore.”

[lilwriter-blog1]

05

“I don’t think we properly considered the logistics of fucking on the table.” + Ryan

“Can’t wait until I get you home, princess,” Ryan growls into your ear, pressing the length of his body against the back of yours.

“Oh, and why’s that?” Your composed facade is ruined by the breathy quality of your voice. He chuckles against you, his breath hitting the shell of your ear.

“Now, sweetheart,” he begins, hand roaming down your body. “You can’t wear this dress and  expect me to not bend you over the nearest surface.”

Your response remains stuck in your throat, much to Ryan’s delight. His hand presses at your hip, encouraging you to turn to face him.

He presses a soft kiss to the corner of your mouth, flutters another to your cheek; a perfect contradiction to the firmness of his confined cock pressing insistently against your abdomen. “Shall we get out of here?”

The journey home seems almost ridiculously long, as is the way when Ryan’s hand finds its way to firmly grasp your leg in the cab, his fingers warm and solid between your thighs, digging into the skin deliciously. It’s only when you stand outside your house, fumbling keys with clumsy fingers that he comments, quite offhandedly, that he would have much preferred to have his head in the position instead.

Ryan’s started taking off your jacket before you even have a chance to close the door behind you, pressing open mouth kisses over your neck and shoulders as he drops the clothing at the door. Your hands cup his jaw, tugging him away from your neck so you can kiss him deeply, grinning into it as he jerks beneath you to remove his shirt, throwing his arms back for it to fall to the ground behind him.

“Bedroom,” you gasp, as Ryan’s hands slide round your back, grabbing at you wherever he can before settling to press into your behind.

“Table,” he counters.

He guides you through the house, mouth unrelenting against yours, swallowing every choked sound that manages to slip out of you.

It’s when you knock into the table that you huff out a laugh.

“I don’t think we properly considered the logistics of fucking on the table,” you inform Ryan, looking down at the coffee table that sits so low on the floor that it’s barely knee height, “I don’t know how you’re expecting me to bend over that.”

He presses you back into the table until you’re laying on it with just your legs over the edge. Yoongi kneels between them, cocky grin in full force. “We’ll make it work.”

[lilwriter-blog1]

04

“forget I even asked you” + Miles. fakedating!au

“Do you want to make this real?”

It is in the middle of the night that he asks you, quiet and wary in such a juxtaposition to his usual confidence that the question almost doesn’t register.

Miles’ bedroom is comforting, the smell of his shampoo clinging to the pillow your head rests on, photos of him with family and friends at different ages scattering the walls, a row of childhood trophies standing proudly on a shelf.

Three days ago, when you and Miles had set your bags down by the wardrobe and rubbed at the stiffness in your necks after the journey, he had sheepishly apologized for the size of his room. You had brushed him off, not fully realizing at the time just how close to two of you would be for the next week.

He is next to you, his body a little stiff with anticipation for your response.

It was two days ago that you kissed for the first time. Miles had been summoned for his suit fitting as well as last minute wedding duties and had pressed his lips to yours in a chaste goodbye for the benefit of his family. His beaming smile was aimed at you, however, when he left a few seconds later, and you found yourself entertaining the possibility of it happening again in a less voyeuristic, theatrical sense. Then his mother had asked your opinion on earrings so you let the thought fall from your mind, tips of your ears still reddened.

You shift on the bed to face him, the proximity causing your chest to graze his arm. He doesn’t look at you, his gaze steady on the ceiling above him.

A day ago Miles had held your hand as the two of you went shopping. You had both convinced yourself that it was a part of the act, despite the fact that you were alone. Better get into habits, you had suggested. When Miles had pressed a kiss to your cheek you had smiled sweetly and kept your whirring thoughts to yourself, pressing them to the back of your head to deal with after the week was over.

Miles clears his throat. “Forget I even asked you.”

It was barely a few hours ago that Miles had relayed the story of your relationship with his family when his uncle asked. The room had been crowded, all seats taken. It was only efficient, and in keeping with the charade, that you perched on his lap. Miles had laughed fondly at your surprised gasp as his arms had wrapped around you and pulled you in. You took it in turns talking about where you first met, the coffee shop you frequent enough for the barista to no longer ask for your names, when you knew you had fallen for each other. At some point, you had realized you weren’t lying at all.

“I don’t want to forget. Of course, I want it to be real.”

[lilwriter-blog1]

03

“the night’s still young” - end of the world!au + James Willems

James presses himself into you with a sigh that you can taste in pit of your stomach. Slowly, so slowly that you groan with impatience and attempt to push back onto him, he slides into you. Only once he is fully sheathed in you, body pressed tightly against yours does he grin, sly and slick.

“How do you want it, sweetheart?”

Hard. Fast. Desperate and needy like the fire burning you from the inside out.

He kisses you, rose petal lips caressing your own with a delicate graze. Hands cupping at the curve of your waist his fingers capture the searing heat of your skin and his palms press into you with a delightful pressure that heavies your body.

“If you don’t tell me what you want you’ll have to satisfy that pretty little cunt all by yourself.”

The words are whispered into the swell of your lips, a faux intimacy in the crudest way that makes your toes curl and breaths turn to ragged gasps.

“And we don’t want that, do we, darling?” James emphasises his point with a buck of his hips, his cock ever more insistent inside you. He asks you again, voice firm with unspoken threat. “How do you want it?”

“Like sunrise marks the end of the world.”

James’ cock twitches inside you at the thought.

“Buckle up, princess. Dawn is hours away. The night’s still young.”

[lilwriter-blog1]

ml

01: michael + “you’re here to look hot so why the fuck are you wearing that” 02: gavin + "great. perfect. nice. fuck this.” here we go again (m): ryan + a wedding tradition reflection (m): gavin + (kinda) mirror office sex

[lilwriter-blog1]

02

“Great. Perfect. Nice. Fuck this.” + Gavin Free

honeymoon!gavin

The sunlight creeps through the haphazardly drawn curtains and dances around the crumpled white sheets that cover your feet. The room is still, quiet and cool enough that the sheets wrapped around you, and the heat radiating from Gavin’s body are a gentle comfort rather than a stifling containment.

You shift on your pillow, turning to face him with a soft smile that melts into a laugh at the sight of your fiance- husband, you correct yourself- still in a blissful sleep, mouth open and hair in a jumbled gravity-defying mess. Gavin sighs and blearily opens his right eye to look at you.

His arm reaches out to you, wrapping around your waist and tugging you towards him so that your back is pressed firmly against his chest, his arm under your body with his hand resting on your hip. Nuzzling his face into the juncture between your shoulder and neck he kisses you gently, ignoring your squawked protest at the gesture tickling.

“Good morning,” he says, words whispered into your skin.

You roll in his grasp to face him, the sheets twisting slightly uncomfortably against your bare legs. His hand trails over your back, gooseflesh following the path of his fingers. Your own fingers fiddle with a lock of Gavin’s hair, toying with it before pushing it back off his forehead.

“I was thinking of a plan for today,” you say, still focused on pushing his hair back.

He hums in acknowledgment. A wave of affection builds up inside you at the boy beneath you as he blinks blearily up at you, yet to properly wake up or contribute too much to a conversation.

“Obviously breakfast first,” you inform him.

“Great.” The tiredness still clings to his voice, but the mention of food has shaken off some of the lethargy.

Satisfied, you continue, “Maybe a nice walk down to the beach after, a bit of sunbathing before it gets too hot and then we could go swimming after. And try out the sports facilities here.”

“Perfect.”

“We could go for dinner in that fancy restaurant later; I heard there’s an entertainment evening at the place across from there, so then we could go to that.”

“Nice,” Gavin sighs, the hand that was trailing your back stalling in favor of wrapping you in a warm embrace.

It’s almost instantaneous that he wakes up properly, his body jolting with realisation.

“Fuck this,” he blurts, “we’ll be out in public the whole day.”

Seeing the confusion on your face he continues, “it’s our honeymoon and we can’t do… y’know, stuff, in public.”

“Gavin Free,” you announce to the empty room, “asks me to call him ‘daddy’ in bed but can’t say the word ‘sex’ out loud.”

“Y/N,” he admonishes you as if you’d made a formal declaration in front of his family, friends and press reporters, “that was one time.”

“Sorry, my dear, shall we reevaluate the plan to allow for coitus at midday? Or would intercourse in the early evening suit you better?”

Gavin’s head falls back into the pillow with a groan, “what have I got myself in for, marrying you?”

“Penetration on vacation?”

[lilwriter-blog1]

its shark week and michael phelps is about to race a shark but how do we know this is the fastest shark were there shark prelims set out underwater to test this i think this is an unfair process discovery u cant have a world class human and just regular jeff the shark do u know how humiliating its gonna be for jeff and his family when he gets beat by  michael phelps™ cuz hes just a normal average joe accountant shark why u gotta do jeff like that man

[lilwriter-blog1]

01

“You’re here to look hot so why the fuck are you wearing that?” + Michael Jones

“Michael, no.”

You’d opened the door to find him leaning against the wall opposite your door, arm outstretched above his head and knee bent to press his foot flat on the wall in a parody of seduction.

He grinned at you slyly, kicking his leg out to draw attention to his freshly shaved legs, then his face dropped as he saw the floor-length formal dress that you were wearing.

You gaped at him, a ridiculously short skirt flaring out from his mid-thigh, a thin white shirt with the first three buttons undone and his chest concealed by just a striped tie with a thick knot where it had been wrapped around multiple times in order to make it shorter. He’d pulled his hair into two small pigtails at the top of his head and they flopped around in a manner you could only describe as adorable with every movement of his head.

“You’re here to look hot so why the fuck are you wearing that?” You asked angrily, pulling him into your apartment by the tie.

“You said fancy dress!” Michael spluttered.

“I said dress fancy, you fucking idiot. I can’t turn up to a fucking work ball with you dressed as a schoolgirl who apparently has very little regard for the knee length skirt length rule. Go home and change.”

“I think I filled the requirement set for me perfectly. You wanted me to look hot, and I think this skirt is doing wonderful things for my legs. Don’t you agree?”

“Go change.” You told him firmly, “I’ll meet you there and explain that you’re running a little late.”

Once you’d pushed him out of the door you grabbed your phone to book a taxi to take you to the ball, allowing yourself to grin at what had just happened. Still standing by the door, you jumped when someone knocked on it the other side.

You opened the door to see Michael still there, clearly a little out of breath from already having walked away and then running back. Before you could say anything he leaned in to press a kiss to your cheek, then ran back towards the car, his skirt flapping up to show the lacy women’s underwear he had apparently got to complete his costume. He shouts back at your over his shoulder.

“You look amazing, darling, I’ll see you soon.”

[lilwriter-blog1]

I asked in tags who you'd like to see me write for and I hadn't opened my ask box, oops!

[lilwriter-blog1]

Water. Earth. Fire. Air. Marshmallow. Long ago, the five nations lived together in harmony. Then, everything changed when the Marshmallow Nation attacked.

[lilwriter-blog1]

The new SpiderMan movie looks great!

[lilwriter-blog1]

[lilwriter-blog1]

reflection (m)

Content: Gavin Free, a local webcam feed, and a whole lot of sin

Word Count: 2.2k Gavin: Bring food to the office. Gavin: and wear that skirt I like

“You know what you said the other day? About trying out me being more in charge?” He says as soon as you open the door to his office.

“Hello to you, too, Gavin. Yes, thank you, I’ve had a lovely day so far, have you?” You deadpan as you step out of your jacket, and offer him a bag of food.

He doesn’t dignify you with a response, continuing on, “So I thought maybe we could try something today. If that’s okay.“

“And here I was thinking you asked me to wear this skirt because you were worried it’s too hot out for jeans.“

“Of course, I was thinking about that, too. I am a very considerate boyfriend, you know.” He says, grinning at you. Gavin takes a step towards you, hands reaching out for you to wrap around your body and pull you into him. He kisses you softly, your eyelids flutter closed as your hands rest gently on his shoulders. He parts from you and licks his lips nervously.

“Please don’t laugh at me."

You grin and lean in to kiss him again.

“I’ll try not to."

///

“Look at yourself,” he growls into your ear, “look at how desperate you are for me."

You lift up your head from where it was thrown back against his neck and look at the computer screen to see yourself through the webcam feed. You’re unable to stop the whispered ‘fuck’ leaves your lips at the sight.

Your chest is heaving, breaths coming out in little pants, eyes lidded with pleasure, face flushed and glowing with a sheen of sweat, and your body is rocking from the force of Gavin’s hand which is barely concealed by the bunched fabric of your skirt. Your underwear, removed from you several minutes ago sits on the floor near your slightly shaking legs where Gavin had tossed it. A stripe of your stomach is visible from where your shirt was pushed up earlier, the mark that Gavin sucked into your skin visible as a possessive ‘mine’ that sends tingles to your overheated skin. His arm looks so masculine draped around your body, veins clearly visible and muscles jumping against the skin. His eyes are dark, and stare directly at the webcam, and in turn at you, and your knees almost buckle beneath you at the fierceness you see in them.

“Do you want me to fuck you, baby? Want me to fuck you so you can watch it on the screen?”

At your whine, he pulls his fingers out of you and circles your clit, fingers slippery from you and sliding over too softly, too gently for you to get any kind of satisfaction. A choked “Gav, please,” results in a light chuckle from him, and he pulls his hand out from between your legs altogether, his other arm still wrapped around you to hold you in place, to make sure you’re still facing the monitor.

“How should I have you, sweetheart? On your back with your legs spread for me? On your hands and knees so I can do this,” On cue, his hand slaps against the skin of your backside, the loud ‘smack’ echoing around the room along with your gasp, “Or should I sit on my chair and you can ride my cock until I let you come?"

“Wh-"

He spanks your ass again, a little harder this time, “That wasn’t for you to answer."

You nod submissively and receive a quiet ‘good girl’ from him as his hand massages the flesh he had hit not five seconds ago.

“Now, darling, go grab that chair for me, and bring it here."

You do as he requests, relishing in the slick feeling between your legs as you walk. You set the chair down in front of Gavin and step aside to allow him to sit down, all in silence. He stands taller than you, posture strong and unmoving, and god, you’ve never been so glad that you suggested that he take charge in the bedroom (or office, you think to yourself) more often.

“Thank you, baby, but it’s not for me yet. Sit down. Take your top off.” Again, you follow his instructions obediently, throwing the shirt you were wearing aside to be collected later, “Spread your legs, baby girl,” Gavin adds once you’re seated. You duck your head in embarrassment but do as he says. Your skirt, though short, does conceal you a little, yet you still feel incredibly exposed, especially considering how large and empty the practice room is.

“Keep looking forward for me, baby,” Gavin tells you as he sinks to his knees and shuffles between your parted legs. You can only tell how close he is from touching you by the feeling of his breath hitting you, and you feel yourself clench in anticipation, watch your throat swallow in your reflection, “Don’t stop watching yourself."

Gavin’s fingers gently push the fabric of your skirt up and then he swipes his tongue over you in one long, wet lick. You watch as your body shudders, as your fingers tie through the locks of his dark hair, as you bite down on your lip and thrust your hips up towards his mouth. Your bra strap slips down your shoulder at the movement, and suddenly you look as debauched as you feel.

He grins at you, and presses his mouth into you, licking insistently with his tongue pressed flat against you. His hands grip at your thighs, fingers digging into your flesh with pain that flares beneath the pleasure that pulsates through you. He continues to swirl his tongue against you, into you, until his name is burnt into your mind with a series of desperate begs that go unspoken.

The shirt that Gavin wears clings to his back from the position he is knelt in; the muscles in his shoulders ripple beneath the fabric and although his head obstructs your view of where he is touching you, where he is tracing your name and his name together into your most sensitive area, the sight of his head between your quivering legs, the groans accompanied by him tilting his head slightly to press his tongue even more firmly against you, it’s so pornographic that you let out a long moan.

You feel Gavin’s eyes flicker up to your face, and you can’t help but look down. His face is covered with your slickness, his lips parted, eyes slightly glazed over with lust. Then, too quick for your desire filled brain to prepare for what’s about to happen, he raises his palm to you and smacks the area he’s just pleasured with his tongue with enough force for you to cry out in shock.

He stands up, towering over you, still fully clothed in his sweatpants and t-shirt while you sit before him, thighs parted, skirt pushed up and bra rumpled, “I told you to keep looking at the screen.”

You don’t say anything.

“You look so good right now, baby. Your bra about to pop off, that mark on your stomach.” His eyes drop lower, “Your pretty little cunt exposed for me.”

Aside from a gasp at his vulgarity, you remain silent.

“Now, I’m going to sit on that chair, even though you’ve probably soaked it through, and you’re going to get yourself off on my thigh.” He reaches out a hand to help you stand, “And then if you can manage to do as I say, I’ll fuck you."

He sits, and pulls you onto him, turning you so that you face away from him, “Now, listen to me, sweetheart. I want you to rub your soaked little pussy against me and don’t look away from the screen. I want you to see how gorgeous you look when you come."

He sits still beneath you as you grind into him, the soft cotton of his gray sweatpants darkening in color. His thigh is tense as you roll your hips into him, his muscles defined even through the layer of clothing, and every few seconds he flexes it beneath you much to your enjoyment. You watch yourself ride Gavin in the slightly pixelated webcam view, and raise your hands to toy with your breasts, squeezing over the fabric of your now very lopsided bra. That gets his attention, and he growls as he moves to replace your hands with his own.

You watch yourself arch your body into his hands. You watch as Gavin slides his hands around to your back to unclasp your bra and push it down your arms to fling it with your shirt. You watch as he then cups your breasts with too much care, gently pushing his thumbs against your nipples and gives you a lazy smile.

Your hips stutter in their controlled motion when Gav abruptly pinches your nipples hard enough for a jolt of pain to run through you. You meet his eyes, and he gives you a cocky grin.

He bounces his leg against you and the drag of the wet cotton against you makes you gasp out. You reach out to your sides and take hold of his arms, using the strength in them to steady yourself as you rock against him, moans and whimpers that you only know are yours based on actually seeing them leave your lips filling the room as your movements grow more and more desperate.

You come with a cry of his name, with a shudder that turns into you collapsing backward into his chest, with a blissed out grin that he returns, even though he’s yet to have any direct stimulation at all.

Giving yourself a few seconds to focus on calming your breathing you can’t help but now notice the flushed look Gavin is currently sporting, the dent in his lip from him having bitten down into it for so long, the half-crazed look in his eyes from sitting and watching you come on his leg.

Wriggling until you’re straddling him properly, your legs either side of him so that his clothed bulge rests against you, you lean to kiss him.

“Am I allowed to face you while I ride you?” You ask him quietly as you run a hand down the side of his face gently to the back of his neck, where you guide him to kiss you again. Though you were the one to initiate the kiss, he quickly takes control, parting your lips with his own and kissing you wetly until you’re gasping against him again. When you part he nods at you.

He reaches down to pull his sweatpants down, and his hand ends up brushing against your sensitive clit. You moan and move in to kiss him again, then push his hand aside and pull his cock out of the confines of his clothes yourself. He is warm and smooth in your hand, heavy and hard beneath the softness of his skin. You almost slide off his lap to take him in your mouth, the weight of him on your tongue one of your favorite sensations, but he bucks into you with a whispered ‘please, let me be inside you’ and you can’t do anything but give him what he wants.

You line him up with yourself, and bear down on him, feeling his groans and expletives and ‘so good, baby’ with the skin at your throat where he’s buried his face. He stays still as you lower yourself onto him completely, pausing when he’s filled you to the hilt as you’re overwhelmed with the feeling of him inside you, the murmurs of praise pressed into your skin, the press of his clothed chest against your own exposed one.

He kisses at your throat, trails his hands over your back, “Y/N, please."

You settle your hands on his shoulders, and raise yourself up, the drag of him against you enough for you to see constellations of pleasure erupting beneath your eyelids, to then push back into him when you feel the head of his cock about to slip out of you. His hips stutter against you, “I won’t last,” He informs you through gritted teeth.

The next time you raise up, his hips chase yours and he throws his head back with a ‘shit, Y/N’ sighed into space between you. Spurred on, you ride him until your thighs are burning and he is gasping beneath you.

His hands grip at you, his eyes clamp shut, his breathing quickens and his cock buries itself into you as he comes with a shout.

You give him a moment to recover before letting his softening cock slide out of you. He gives you a sleepy smile, and looks at you through one eye, the other remaining shut, “You’re my favorite."

“Thanks, I do try,” You respond, and you give his nose a quick peck.

He gently slides his hand down your neck, “Now, about that food you brought with you…”

[lilwriter-blog1]

x

[lilwriter-blog1]

if you have a smegging compass, Jeremy, then you don’t need to look at the farting sun, because you have a compass in your SHITTING hand, Jeremy

[lilwriter-blog1]

Every computer needs a “cleaning keyboard” mode where the keys would be inactive while you wipe them down

[lilwriter-blog1]

Gavin looking real confused over Michael saying “ooooh, this explains a lot” in Outlast 2