#But reblogs are welcomed to keep this one going

[fos-tis-zois]

JJK SMUT - bathroom sneak away with gojo satoru

part 2 to my prev. gojo smau

content: boyfriend!gojo satoru x fem!reader + smut + degradation + pussy eating + fingering + all your fun stuff

work count: 1.4k

an: first ever smut that i’ve written and in process of writing more sooooo, well reblog if you like this one lol it will really help me validate my writing and post more of my stuff. advice and suggestions is welcome. my inbox is open for everything, as well as your kinks which i can make smuts out of 🤤

You enter the bathroom and face your blue eyed man spreading himself on the bathroom counter. You close the door behind you and lock it, without breaking eye contact with your most enticing boyfriend. You slowly walk towards him, not removing your eyes from him for even a second; you want Gojo Satoru to look at you with all the desire he can have for you before you close the distance. You come stand in front of him sitting on the countertop. He cups his warm hands on your cheeks fleetingly and quickly moves his hands on your waist, gets down and spins you to make you sit on the countertop as he faces you, his height still cowering over you. There is a feral look in his eyes. He smiles at you slightly before closing the distance between your lips and kissing you passionately. There is a possession in his grip on your throat, he is choking you slightly, making you know you’re his, only his. The strongest sorcerer’s most precious possession. 

Your thighs close around his legs instinctively wanting no distance between both of you. He keeps one hand on your neck while the other roams around your body and rests on your lower back, pulling you closer to him. Your hands snake around his neck, your fingers deep inside his silky white hair. His tongue lightly licks your bottom lip and you open your mouth to let your tongues mingle in a deep hot mess inside your mouth. Gojo was basically eating your face at this point. You lightly tug at his hair so he can let you have a breath. He doesn’t stop but instead moves to your neck, biting and licking like an animal. You try to stop him, “satoru, we have to go back to an event, don’t give me a hickey here.” He stops and pierces his gaze at you again. He squeezes your cheeks firmly between his thumb and fingers and pulls your face right in front of him, “i do what i want to do to my princess here, you get that?” You nod yes in agreement. “Use your pretty mouth to speak”, he barks. “yes, toru…”, you breathe out, your lips all puckered up. He starts kissing you again as he pulls your dress’ neckline down hastily and grabs your tits in his hands. He cups one of them and strokes your nipple between his thumb. “mmm-ghhh”, you whimper. He puts his lips on your other nipple twirling it between his tongue. You run your fingers through his hair as the pleasure is running through your spine. You feel yourself getting wet and close your thighs even more, tightening it against gojo. He gets the hint and takes his forefinger and fleetingly touches your clit, lifting the skirt of your dress. You hiss, wanting more. “Getting greedy, are we?”, teases Satoru. He then placed his mouth at the clit and started playing with it using his tongue as he thrust his long fingers deep in your pussy, curving it slightly at the top so he hits your spot. “toru!”, you yell out. He brings his face to yours and looks into your eyes with anger and says “the next time you make any sound i will stop this right then and there, you do want to cum, don't you?”, he warns. You want to protest but you also don’t want him to stop the way he is slurping your pussy, so you keep quiet. His thrusts became deeper and faster and you had to keep your hands behind on the countertop to maintain your balance as you bite down on your bottom lip so you don’t make a sound. 

He pulled his fingers out suddenly and slammed his tongue inside your cunny. “aah-” you make a soft moan as your legs close around gojo’s neck and you pull his mouth inside even more, as if all of his tongue was also not enough compared to your burning craving for him at the moment.  As you are close to climax, he brings his face back to yours and kisses you deeply. “Such an obedient little slut for me, aren’t you babygirl?” You melted at his mix of compliments and degradation. “I want more”, you whispered. Gojo chuckled, “what was that doll?” “satoru,” you purred, looking up at him full of lust in your eyes, “i want you in me.” The second you said that his belts were undone and his pants and briefs were off and slid down to the floor. He took his dick in one hand and stroked it a couple times as he took your boobs in his mouth again, biting and sucking like he was adamant on marking you his. He pushed his tip at your opening a couple times, not taking it fully in, still keeping you on your toes. “satoru, why do you like torturing me-“ your complaint wasn’t even over before gojo thrust his cock in your wet dripping cunt. You were just about to moan loudly but he kept his other hand on your mouth so you can't scream. He keeps thrusting you over and over and you can’t help but just there getting fucked, with your tongue hanging out of mouth and eyes rolled back. “You’re such a sexy little slut for me”, gojo said as he placed deep kisses on your neck. “toru please go faster”, you pleaded with your doe eyes looking up at him. “What’s the magic word, darling?”Gojo teased. You smiled, puffed out your chest at him a little more before looking in his eyes and saying seductively, “daddy pleaseee…fuck me faster.” That was enough for gojo to grab your ass with both his hands and pull you even deeper on his cock. You hung on to him for dear life as he pounded you, in and out, repeatedly. You take your lips close to his ears to not be loud, and purr “daddy you’re ssooo good to me” and licked his lobe. It’s as if gojo becomes deranged hearing you and starts thrusting so hard and rubbing circles on your clit that you can’t help but bite down his shoulders to stop yourself from screaming. He suddenly took almost his whole dick out and just kept the tip in. Confused, you asked “did you finis-” as you said that he rammed his dick back in you hard, and you both came simultaneously. You both just stayed like that for a while, your head hanging low on his shoulders, both of you panting after having fucked like pent up bunnies. He kissed down your shoulders and said, “you’re really perfect, love.” You moaned satisfied at the compliment as you kissed him one last time lightly before getting off the counter and fixing yourself.

“It’s a pity we have to go back to the party, no?” you asked gojo. “we can go anywhere we want darling, nothing is impossible for me” the sorcerer replied cockily. You laughed and said, “then let’s fucking leave. let’s go to our home where we can fuck each other over and over because i just can’t have enough of you.” Gojo laughed and kissed you as he squeezed your ass, “whatever my doll wants, she gets.”

© fos-tis-zoos, 2024; picture from pinterest @/its_maya4; banner from @/cafekitsune

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

candy girl 1

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as cheating, age gap, noncon/dubcon, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: as you're about to take the next step with your boyfriend, doubts begin to arise. (short!plus!reader)

Characters: Thor (boyfriend's dad/silverfox)

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself. <3

You steer onto the cul-de-sac, the savoury smell of teryaki and honey garlic cloying at your stomach. A loud growl erupts from inside you as you come in sight of your destination. The suburban beacon stands two-storeys above ground and its white washed window frames seem to watch your approach with wide eyes. The home, even if it’s not your own, is welcoming. 

You pull in beside the white picket fence and park right behind the large slate grey BMW. It’s both gargantuan and sparkling compared to your beat up Fiat. Your steed isn’t a noble one but it gets the job done. Literally. 

The summer night hums with the call of the crickets and the drone of pool filters from the sprawling HOA-mandated yards. You get out and open the back seat, pulling out the stacked boxes that radiate with the mouth-watering aromas. You even managed to get Karl to give you a free tray of garlic knots before you clocked out. 

As you balance the wide load, teetering slightly at the awkwardness, you use your hip to shut the car door. You eye the vehicle in front of yours. You didn’t think he’d be there, at least that’s what Magni said. You suppose you can’t complain, it isn’t your house. 

A figure sits on the porch, as if waiting for you. At first, you think it’s your boyfriend but the build is slightly too broad to be him. The sheen of the light beside the front door also reveals a head of silvering blonde waves and not Magni’s shanky red hair. His father sits with his phone cradled over his lap, a metallic noise sounding from the speakers. 

You come up the front walk between the floating orbs cast by the solar lanterns implanted in the earth. Your soles scuff as you near the steps and Mr. Odinson lowers his phone as he looks up. You put on a smile though you don’t think he’ll see it. 

“It’s just me,” you announce as you hit the step with your toe and stumble. “Oof!” 

He’s quick to stand and rush over but you steady yourself and clammer up the steps in a graceful recovery. You giggle at yourself and even out the boxes to keep the pizza from getting to messed up. He stops nearby, looming over you as he blocks out the porch light. 

“Y’okay, little one?” He asks in his way. 

You laugh again, “all good! Clumsy old me.” 

“Mm,” he hums and gives an emphatic sniff, “I suppose you didn’t bring all that for me.” 

“There’s more than enough to go around,” you assure him. 

“Ah, well in that case, my son is in the garage,” he points, “I will gladly make sure the food gets to the kitchen unscathed.” 

You tilt your head at him and scoff, “don’t worry, I didn’t count the chicken wings or anything.” 

He chuckles and takes the boxes from you, “allow me,” he insists, “far too much for you to be carrying all this around.” 

“It’s my job, Mr. Odinson,” you shrug, “anyway, I’ll go find, Mag.” 

“Tell him to put his things away before he comes in,” he warns and backs up, easily carrying the full load of food in one hand, turning to pull the screen door open with his other. 

You hop back down the porch and along the walk, coming back down the driveway to the garage. You knock on the wide door as you hear raging metal music crashing from within. You like some of it, but a few songs just make your head hurt. 

The door reacts as the motor above whirs and reels it up. You bend to peek under and wave at Magni. He sits on a low rolling stool, his hands darkened with oil, and his motorbike half torn apart. Again. 

“Wow, what’s all this?” You ask as you dip under the door. 

“Eh, stupid thing got a rock in it, then I was thinking about modifying it... got a bit carried away.” 

He grabs a rag from his pocket as he stands and wipes his fingers. He’s about as tall as his father, though he’s lanky where the elder Odinson is bullish. You suppose he might fill out with age, not that you’re complaining. You have more than enough cushion for both of you. 

“Your dad took the pizza,” you say. 

“Ah, yeah, he was supposed to be out of town,” he grumbles. “Been lecturing half the night about this thing.”  

He gestures to the bike as he nears and bends to kiss you. You tilt your head up to meet him and get a bit more tongue than you expect. He grabs your ass as he pulls you against him and you gasp, pushing on his stomach. 

“You’re getting grease on my pants,” you part and tut at him. It’s only your uniform but you have two pair of work pants and one them is ripped. 

“Blends right in,” he gives you another tap. 

“Ugh, I was gonna do laundry on the weekend.” 

“Whatever,” he shrugs and continues to twist his finger into the dirty rag. “Too bad dad stayed,” he grumbles, “if he wasn’t here...” 

Heat razes your neck and you sway in place, digging your toe into the ground as you look away. You know what he was expecting and you tried to tell him you weren’t sure yet but he just doesn’t get it. You’re almost grateful you don’t have to repeat yourself. As much as you like him, it’s just too much too soon. 

“Mm, yeah,” you come forward and gather up the loose wrenches and bolts, putting them into the open box, “shouldn’t leave this all a mess.” 

“Eh, I’ll just be working on it again tomorrow,” he sniffs. 

You ignore his protest and continue to clean up after him. If you mention his dad, you don’t think it will motivate him. They can be volatile at times. Stubborn to say the least. It surprises you to see the discord between them. With a life like this, how could anyone be unhappy?  

You close up the tool box and roll it against the wall. Magni hits the button for the door and it rolls back down. You follow him to the interior door and climb the steps up into the main house. You leave your shoes on the mat as he keeps his on. 

Mr. Odinson pulls out plates as you enter the kitchen. He huffs as Magni tramps through and goes to the sink, flipping it on with two fingers and leaving grease on the silver. 

“Shoes on?” His father grumbles. 

“Forgot,” Magni utters. 

“Mm, wipe the faucet off when you’re done. You’re getting oil all over.” 

“Yeah, dad, I’ll do it,” Magni sneers. 

You gulp awkwardly as Mr. Odinson offers you a plate. 

“Gotta wash up too,” you wiggle your fingers at him, showing the dirt from the tools. 

“Ah, more work after work, I see,” he muses dryly. 

You smile and shrug and go to the sink as Magni shuts it off. You turn it back on and take your time lathering up your hands. You rinse off and make sure to wipe the smear on the silver too. As you turn around, Magni is loading up his plate with food. 

You wait patiently by Mr. Odinson as he hands you a plate. 

“Geez, save some for the rest of us, kid,” he chortles. 

“There’s lots,” Magni dismisses flippantly and walks away. 

“Eat at the table,” his dad calls after him. 

Mr. Odinson lets you go first. He makes you feel tiny as he patiently awaits his turn. You take more knots than you should but only a single slice of triple cheese. 

“I see you go the cinnamon bites...” he intones, “did you remember they’re my favourite?” 

“Oh, mine too!” You chime, “I didn’t but I’ll try to next time.” 

“Next time,” he echoes, “don’t make promises you can’t keep.” 

You ignore the cryptic comment and grab a dipping sauce, “enjoy, Mr. Odinson.” 

“Mm, looks delicious,” he winks and his eyes linger on you before they drift over to the boxes. “Mmm, I prefer thighs but these wings smell amazing.” 

You turn and give the wall a strange look. He’s a funny guy, sometimes you have no idea what he’s talking about. You head off to join Magni in the dining room. He bends over his phone and quickly swipes with his pinky, bringing up his wallpaper. 

“I’m starving,” you sit down, “work was so hectic.” 

He growls into a chicken wing as he eats ravenously. You feel a similar hunger but you don’t want to be rude. It’s funny, growing up in a place like this, and he can be so... sloppy.  

Mr. Odinson walks in and drops a stack of napkins at the center of the table, “don’t stain the tablecloth.” 

You take a few and Magni just continues his feast. His dad sits with a cringe and shakes his head. He takes a garlic knot between two fingers, the morsel seeming so small, and bites into it delicately. He hums and you can’t help but share the sentiment, while you restrain yourself from mimicking his son as your stomach roars again. 

[tswaney17]

Wildest Dreams

@elriel-month | Choice

You know it's not a true Elriel Month if Azriel isn't just simping over Elain. This one is all fluff. Hope you enjoy it! 🌹🦇

My fanfic account: @tswaney17fics​​​

My ao3 account: tswaney17

Please let me know what you think about this update. I love getting your feedback. Constructive criticism is always welcome. 💕

Trigger warnings: Nothing but domestic fluff

Word Count: 1,230

This fic will be posted on AO3 only. Read the beginning below or click here to head to AO3.

Azriel landed on the front steps of his and Elain’s home, his boots cushioning the impact from the stone pathway. They had bought and rebuilt this home about a year after their mating and wedding ceremony, wanting a space to call their own. Though Rhys had gifted them the townhouse as a mating present—and an apology for keeping them apart once they realized the bond between Elain and Lucien had been nothing more than a spell from a corrupted Cauldron—they wanted to find something that was truly their own. Away from the bustle of the city and in a quiet neighborhood.

Nobody could argue that they enjoyed their peace and quiet.

He had been pulled away after Rhys’s unrelented pestering over some reports and the only reason he finally gave in was because Koschei was still at large and Azriel would stop at nothing to protect those he loved.

But that didn’t stop the ache in his chest from just how much he missed his girls.

Girls. Plural. As in more than one.

Read More

~~~~~

Remember, sharing is caring! Please reblog if you liked the fic. It helps spread my work and I truly appreciate it. 💕

While I have moved most of my fics to AO3 only, I am still going to utilize a tag list here on Tumblr. This as a permanent solution and may change in the future. For notifications, you can follow and subscribe to my fanfic account where I will be reblogging updates and snippets only. You can also find me on ao3. If you would like to be added to my tag list, please leave a comment on this post.

My fanfic account: @tswaney17fics​

My ao3 account: tswaney17

Taglist: 

@nikethestatue

@reverie-tales

@123moiaussi

@duskwhisperer

@zdenkah

@nyxreads

@shedoessoshedoes

@athena-85

@jasmineandshadows

@nightcourtseer

@nivem565

@debramclaren

@illyrianvalkyriecarynthian

@secretpuppyflower

@justreallybored

@ultadverb

@the-regal-warrior

@roseandshadows

@tcursebreaker

@kingravinger

@mis-lil-red

@eloeloeheheh

@fawnandshadows

@swankii-art-teacher

@miss-bee-cat

@bookhhrelaz

@impossiblescissorspeachpaper

@elrielbaby

@lesolehabitantdelalune

@thoughtsaboutshows

@britishwings

@aelin21galathynius

@saz-griffin

@azrielslight

@bookstaninthesoul

@curiositywoman

@karsyn-b2

@elainsweetcobalt

@emilyondemand

Some tags seem to not want to link, which could be related to your visibility settings. Sorry about that!

[romancingbarret]

Hello, Final Fantasy VII fans! Are you ready for a Hot Barret Summer? Join us July 7-14 for our third annual Romancing Barret Week, a multiship week for acknowledging and celebrating Barret as a romantic partner!

July 7 - vacation | summer heat

July 8 - first date | anniversary

July 9 - fairy tales | post-apocalyptic

July 10 - secrets | inside jokes

July 11 - right hand | battle couple

July 12 - animals + nature | hobbies

July 13 - crossover | what if

July 14 - free day!

ALL Barret ships are accepted and encouraged! Likewise, we welcome any level of participation, whether you do one sketch of your OTP or go all out trying a different ship every day. We want to see your fanart, fanfic, gifsets, meta, or whatever you’d like to put together!

And yes, we welcome: explicit content, poly ships, queerplatonic relationships, trans headcanons, and crosscanon ships.

Use the tag #RomancingBarretWeek and/or tag us @romancingbarret to make sure we can see and reblog your work. Please keep anything spicier under a cut or AO3 link with appropriate content warnings.

We will not reblog any ship or character hate. Let’s keep it positive!

@ff7central @ff7zinenews @ffviifandomcalendar

[ftsmutweek]

Come One, Come All - It is time to get some spice on with:

Fairy Tail's Hot & Steamy Smut Week!

Prompts

—Dom Prompts—

Overstimulation

Praise Kink

Desperate

Tease

Entangled

Edging

Something New/Experiment

—Sub-Prompts—

Wine & Dine

Semi-Public/Public

Monster

Swap

Gender-Swap

Double Penatration

Potion

69

Creampie

Bondage

Degration Kink

Choking Kink

Master/Slave

AU Setting

Bound Hands/Feet

BDSM

Domestic

Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics

Noisy Neighbors

Anniversary

Mutual Pining

Simping

Jealousy

Protector/Protectee

Brat

Power Bottom

—Written Prompt— "Warm...their body simmered and boiled, sweat cooling over heated skin. Back arching, hands grasping, they fought for a piece of control, even just the semblance of it. Too much...this would be their final mark in the world, an expiration date date too early. A keening sound rang in their ears, deafening them. When they realized they were gasping, desperate and yearning for the fresh air around them, they finally realized the cry came from them. And the lasting pleasure rolled over them as mind and body finally reconnected."

How Does This Work?

—Dom Prompts— The main prompts, or the Dom Prompts, are the main topics set for the week to use. There are seven there for the seven days the event will be going on.

If one of the Dom Prompts makes you uncomfortable or you cannot come up with something on the prompt, any option from the Sub Prompts can be used.

—Sub Prompts— These are additional items you can choose from to add to your story. Sprinkle in a bit of extra spice, or just use the first prompt alone. Mix and match to your hearts desire!

These prompts, as mentioned above, can also be used as substitutions for any of the Dom Prompts that just don't work for you.

Rules / Event Information

—Submissions— Smut Week is to showcase the works of content creators who make the spicier content. To make things easier for readers and those interested, please ensure the following: At least ONE (1) Dom Prompt, or a substitute from the Sub Prompt list, should be used as the Main Prompt and mentioned. After that, any additional Sub Prompts can be used and mentioned.

—Posting— Please mention ( @ftsmutweek ) the blog to help ensure the post is visible and it will be reblogged. Include the tag #ft Hot & Steamy Smut Week 2024 or #ft Smut Week 2024 within the first five tags as well. ALL SUBMISSIONS NEED TO PUT content warnings in the tags accordingly. While many might not see issue with adult-fun stuff, there are many who are either: - Minors - Have Triggers to certain topics - Are uncomfortable with this topic - Or generally might not be interested in it Due to the subject of this week, please ensure all submissions - here and on AO3 - are properly tagged. This also helps those who are looking for certain topics to read about - so it is a win-win for everyone!

—AO3 Collection— Fairy Tail's Hot & Steamy Smut Week 2024

—Generic Rules— - Please, keep it friendly between submitters, and no blatant character bashing. - Any and all ships with characters of age are welcomed, even Poly ships are welcomed! - ABSOLUTELY NO ships involving adult/child. This is illegal. Let's not. - If the subject matter has or is part of a non-consensual relationship, please ensure this is in the tags and addressed in warnings.

If there are any questions, please feel free to send an ask!

-

Art by @phoenix-before-the-flame Designed by @genavere Thank you @pencilofawesomeness for posting their event before mine so I could copy and paste some of your event rules (otherwise, I would have totally forgot)!

@ftguildevents

[rubytalks]

you smell of dead flowers- by vslush

but vocals by me ^^

hi! I hope you enjoyed this video as I put a lot of effort on it to look and sound good

[boy-gender]

Ive been gaining a worrying amount of followers very quickly, and that already makes me a little wary, but thats okay! I want this blog to help more and more trans men and transmasc people feel they have a place to celebrate themselves and one another!

But unfortunately, lately, ive seen an increase in followers from a very specific, very insular, very niche group. Transnazis.

Now at first I didnt know what this was and assumed, as im sure many of you reading this will, that this means "im a nazi, and also transgender. I am a trans nazi." No. That's not what it means. Transnazism, one word, or any of its weird censored typing quirk variants, means "im not a nazi but i feel like i should be. I relate, somehow, to the aesthetics of the third reich." This is part of a slightly bigger but still very small group called transbigots or transharm.

I've spent the last two weeks or so since I noticed an influx of them trying to decide what to do. I'm not a huge blog by any means, but this blog is growing rapidly and has considerable reach in transmasc circles. I believe I have a duty to my followers to shield you all from the worst of the garbage that I encounter (one of the myriad reasons I dont respond to hate messages). So Ive been debating just blocking these people and not commenting on them publicly, because frankly I wish I could unknow what I know about them and I'm sorry to have to pass it on to y'all.

But seeing a small drove of them come my way and decide, somehow, that this is a place for them, that they're welcome here, or that I am somehow in solidarity with them frankly makes me sick. I have losing sleep, disrupting my schedule, missing appointments, and disordering my eating all because I am caught in a cycle of anxiety about these people being anywhere near me. I feel so viscerally uncomfortable I want to take off my own skin, and every time another one comes along or I read what they say, i can feel the physical pressure of all the vitriol i want to scream at them clogging up my throat.

To any transnazi or transbigot or what have you that may be following me who I missed, or who may want to follow me in the future, I have a direct message:

Do you huff paint out of a plastic bag? Are you breaking into zoos to get high licking rare exotic frogs? What in the FUCK is wrong with you? What fucking aesthetic of nazism could you possibly want to center your identity around- the skeletal bodies of camp survivors? The rooms of stolen teeth? The mass graves? Or do you just like a red white and black color palette? Explain it to me. I want to know exactly what I did that appeals to you so I can never do it ever again. I do not accept you. I do not welcome you. There is nothing here for you. I wish you a drastic and painful change of heart- I hope you get better, and I hope it hurts the entire time.

But while we wait for that, FUCK. OFF.

[rubinee]

i dont want to close my dms because ive had genuinely nice conversations on here with people telling me they relate to my posts, feel encouraged, realised something about themselves, or something else entirely normal and respectful but for every kind interaction ive had there's like 5 people who just message 'hi' send me my own post and say 'thats hot' like ???? what do they want me to do?? what's the thought process here

[volivolition]

Idk if you saw or not but a new chapter of the fury of a shattered mirror dropped last night! I haven’t read it yet but I thought I should let you know 😎👍

awughgh HELL YEAH!! ive been away from my laptop for a while so i didnt see, thank you birdy!! :] this is the best news ive had all day hkjgh <33 excited very excited going to read it now <33

[reitziluz]

answered the oc asks a day late because i went through a whole character arc myself figuring out the answers. though i don't think the idea that they should have been answered on the same day came from anywhere else than myself.

either way. absolutely rejuvenating. good way to get some rust off them typing fingers.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

As the World Turns 2

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon, manipulation, imbalanced power dynamics, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your new job takes you to new places with lots of new people.

Characters: Nick Fowler, Jonathan Pine, Lloyd Hansen

Note: I know I shouldn’t have done this.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

“I might hear you out,” Mr. Hansen, or Lloyd, sits back as he slurps from a rounded class of cognac, “as long as you bring this pretty little thing along tomorrow.” 

You chew quietly on a piece of lettuce and look around. You search the table for whatever he means, confused by the statement. Your eyes flick up to meet his and you gulp, realising he’s referring to you. Oh.  

He called you pretty but it just feels off. You give a tight-lipped smile and reach for your sparkling water. He brings his hand over the top to stop you as Fowler sighs. 

“She’ll keep the minutes,” your boss grumbles. 

“How about some wine, baby face?” Lloyd leans forward. 

“Uh, I don’t drink, thanks,” you answer sheepishly. You’d already told him as much but it hasn’t kept him from offering more than once. 

“Boring,” he mutters and retracts his hand. “Gonna be a long vacation if you don’t loosen up.” 

“She’s not on vacation, she’s working,” Fowler girds as he tosses his napkin on his plate. “You’re really gonna drag this out, aren’t you?” 

“Drag what out?” Lloyd winks as he sits back, gripping one leg as his other sways. 

“The deal.” 

“You gotta wine and dine before you get between my thighs,” the other man taunts. “What’s for dessert?” 

Fowler exhales slowly, jaw tense as he eyes the other man. You glance between them then over your shoulder. Maybe the server could bring the dessert menu. 

“You know I don’t sleep well in a strange land without someone to keep me warm--” 

“Cut it out,” Fowler warns his acquaintance harshly, “we got an early morning.” 

His chair scrapes as he stands, drawing your attention back to the table. You feel like you might wilt as you meet the heat of Lloyd’s fervent gaze. He has an elbow beside his plate, his glass in his hand as he hovers it before his mouth and stares. He sips then pokes out his tongue in a way that makes you nervous. 

Your wide eyes skirt over to your boss and you push yourself from your chair. 

“Just like you to cut the fun short--” 

“I was on a plane half the day, I don’t have the energy for you,” Fowler takes out his wallet and drops a wad of bills on the plate, “dinner’s on me.” 

“And I’d like dessert on me,” Lloyd harrumphs and drains his glass, slamming it down on the stem as he lets out a heavy sigh. He stands and tugs at his belt without shame. You sidle away and push the chair in, staying close to your boss. 

“We’ll talk more. I’m not leaving without a deal, Hansen.” 

“We’ll see about that,” Lloyd slaps his chest and stifles a belch behind his fist, “guess I'll hit the massage parlour again.” He rolls his neck and winks at you, “stiff from the flight.” 

“Come on,” Fowler ignores whatever inference his colleague makes and spins on his heel, then gestures to you, “let’s get going.” 

“Oh, uh, yes, sir,” you turn to follow. 

“Mmm, yes, sir,” Lloyd mimics in a purr as you prance off. 

You tap out next to your boss as he checks his watch. He raises his hands to swipe over his face and hair. He must be just as tired as you. Your excitement has dwindled to a low thrum and you’re ready to keel over. 

“I want my coffee at six. Got it?” He demands. 

“Yes, sir.” 

“Call the front desk, have them send breakfast too. We’ll be heading off early.” 

“Yes, sir,” you echo again, barely keeping up with his fast march. 

“And wear a dress,” he says. 

Again, you affirm his command. 

He stops before a pair of double doors; wood carve in intricate patterns. He faces you and exhales, “do not fuck Hansen.” 

You’re stunned by the suggestion. You raise your brows and let your mouth fall open. You sputter and shake your head, “s-sir--” 

“Just don’t,” he warns. “Flirt with him but nothing more. Trust me.” 

“I wouldn’t--” 

“I’m not asking about your preferences, I’m giving you an order,” he turns to the door and reaches into his pocket, pulling out his card, “good night.” 

“Oh, er, good night, sir,” you back off awkwardly, still scalding from his assumption. 

You click down the hall in your shoes and frown. Does he really think you would do that? He said himself, you’re on a business trip. Sure, Lloyd was forward and unfocused but you didn’t encourage him at all. To be fair, you didn’t catch half of what he meant. 

You get to your room and stop, feeling around your clothing as your heart drops. Oh no! You can see the cards in your mind, sitting on the table inside the hotel room. Oh, gosh, you’re so stupid. 

You turn and face the hallway behind you. Of course you would lock yourself out. For everything that went so smoothly on your first trip abroad, something was bound to go wrong. Well, you’d rather this than be stranded in the middle of no where. 

You push away from the door and stroll back down the hall. You find your way back to the lobby. It's eerily empty as you peer around. The high ceilings are centered by a grand chandelier and the panels between the skylight panes are painted with elaborate patterns. The night peers down at your lone entrance, making the echo of your steps even more desolate.  

You go to the counter and raise your hand over the bell, wary of disturbing the peace. You tap it lightly but the ding is deafening. You wince and cry out as a body pops up from behind the counter like a jack-in-a-box. 

“Eek,” you touch your chest as the manager appears like an apparition. 

“Pardon me,” he puts his hands on the counter, “I was only just sorting through some things. Didn't mean to startle you.” 

“No, it's…it's fine,” you giggle as your fear dissipates, “I didn't expect such a quick response.” 

“Always at your service, miss,” he address you by your last name. You're flattered he remembers you. “And so I must ask how I can be of assistance.” 

“Right, er, this is kinda embarrassing,” you scrunch up your lips and look at the wall, “I locked my keys in my room.” 

“Ah, well, that's not the end of the world,” he waves away your worry.

You notice his jacket is disposed, folded over the unusued chair on it's tall legs, and his shirt sleeves are rolled to his elbows. He must be used to solitary nights.

“I'll come let you in.”  He reaches to his belt to pull out a white card, “now this is your first wish, you've only two more after.” 

You furrow your brow curiously and he gives an awkward grin, “a joke, of course. This genie does not count favours.” 

“Uh, thanks,” you murmur. 

He comes out from behind the desk and gestures you to come with him. You catch up as he strides breezily across the lobby. Your eyes wander the extravagant interior and you drift off in your imagination. What it must be like to work here every day. 

“And are you enjoying your time abroad thus far?” Jonathan asks. 

You snap back to the present and chuckle nervously, “sure, I... it’s nice so far but I haven’t been here very long.” 

“Mm, yes, well I do hope you find time among your business to explore. If you have an questions, I’d be happy to answer. I even have a few recommendations if you’re interested,” he offers. 

“Oh, thanks so much,” you swallow a yawn and flutter your lashes. He glances over at you as he strides on. 

“And did you enjoy the restaurant?” He prompts. 

“Uh yes, the food was delicious,” you chime. 

“I will let the chef know you said so,” he remarks, “if you are interested in the local cuisine, there is a shop not far from here which is a touch more genuine. Though I must warn you it is spicy fare.” 

“I love spice,” you smile blink long as another yawn nestles at the base of your throat. 

“Well, you will let me know when you try it if you like it,” he nears your door and brings the car up to slide through the slot, “you must be terrible exhausted.” 

He pushes the door open and holds it with his long arm, “just a little,” you agree, “thanks so much.” 

“Never to worry, these things happen,” he assures, “the nights are lonely and I don’t mind the task.” 

You smile as you step under his arm and turn in the doorway, “have a good night.” 

“You too, darling,” he returns, “be sure to put your key somewhere you won’t forget.” 

“Oh, yes, thank you,” you bounce on your feet and grab the door handle. 

He lets go and you shut the door gently. You give a big yawn and face the room. Thankfully, you left the lamp on. You leave your shoes by the door and rub your eyes as you stagger forward. You take out your phone to check your alarms and set it a bit earlier. You won’t be getting much sleep. 

🌍

You have Mr. Fowler’s coffee in hand as you stroll up to his door. You double-checked at the counter to make sure you didn’t misremember. You check your watch as you approach. Ten to six. You’re early. He’ll be impressed. He’s not very fond of lateness though you’re yet to test that yourself. 

You’ve done pretty well. You got yourself up, with help from a freezing cold shower to keep your eyes open, and you look pretty good. A peachy orange blouse and a grey skort. You’re ready for the day in your mary jane flats, sparing your arches the strain of heels. 

You knock and call through the door, “sir, I have your coffee.” 

You look at the cup. You had it made exactly as he always get. An americano with an extra shot. You think the caffeine is a bit much but you would never say so to him. He’s your boss, not the other way around. 

“Mr. Fowler?” You knock again as you stand in the hall, “it’s going to go cold--” 

The door opens suddenly and your fist nearly hits Mr. Fowler instead of the door. You retract and give a sheepish grin, “uh, good morning, sir,” you gulp. He has a towel crookedly clutched around his waist and he’s dripping wet. His stomach is hard and lined with muscle, tightly knotted and glistening with moisture. 

“It’s not six,” he snarls. 

“Sorry, sir, I'm early. Your coffee,” you extend your arm to offer him the cup, “they are bringing your breakfast shortly--” 

He grumbles and takes the cup. You let it go, hovering at the threshold as he keeps one hand on the towel. He inhales the scent of the espresso and tastes it with a moan of relief. He kicks the door shut and it snaps in your face. You step back and flinch. 

He’s right. You’re early. You caught him off-guard. That much is obvious. You can’t blame him for his mood. No one likes being interrupted during a shower. You back up and stand against the wall. You’ll wait. You have no choice. You know if you disappear, he’ll be even less pleased. 

Room service arrives shortly after and knock. Mr. Fowler lets them in, ignoring you as you linger, and the hotel porter leaves shortly after. You sway on your feet and check the time. 

Someone else might be annoyed but you’re too excited. The shine of the new place has yet to wear off. Even if you are working, the backdrop is enough to assuage any pitfalls. 

You check the time several times as you pace in the hall. You flatten yourself to the wall as another hotel denizen passes. You’re a bit awkward lurking there. You start to worry someone might see you and get suspicious. It is a bit strange to just be staring at a door. 

Before your doubts can get the best of you, the doors open and Mr. Fowler emerges in a white button-up and navy slacks. He forgoes his jacket and tie for the natural climate. His short hair is tidy and a light stubble trims his jaw. He checks the time on his wrist and signals with his index. 

“The car?” He demands. 

“The car,” you echo and your eyes flit back and forth. 

“The valet has the rental,” he snarls, “did you call for it?” 

“Sorry, sir, I...” you take out your phone and scroll, “I don’t see anything in the itinerary--” 

“Get the car,” he demands. 

“Yes, sir,” you wince and hurry ahead, “will do.” 

You scurry out of his sight and clamour into the lobby. You search around and see a new face behind the counter. Jonathan must be done his shift. You ask about the valet and they point you outside. 

You ask for Mr. Fowler’s car and wait near the ramp of the garage. You should’ve known. You booked the rental car and all that. You’re going to blame it on jet lag.  

Mr. Fowler appears at an easy pace, a hand in one pocket and the other around his phone. He doesn’t look up as he approaches. He stops a few feet away and sighs, once more peeking at his silver watch. 

“On it’s way, sir,” you assure him. 

He slips his phone into his pocket and squints at you. You give a shaky smile. You hate when he looks at you like that. It feels like he’s judging you. Well, he definitely is. 

“I told you to wear a dress,” he says as he reaches to touch the collar of your blouse. 

“Oh, sorry, sir,” you blanch. You must have forgot amid your late night chaos. You feel a surge of panic and quickly check your purse. You have your keys. “Do you want me to go change?” 

“It’s fine,” he turns you by your shoulders and pinches your top button. He undoes it and you try to look down at his hands, only to go cross-eyed. He clucks and undoes the next one, leaving the satin to hang low on your chest. “That will do.” 

You resist the urge to redo the button and you shrug, trying to hike fabric higher on your shoulders. You are overtly aware of your cleavage. It’s not very professional. 

“Sir,” you bring your phone up again, “I think my data isn’t working. I can’t see the itinerary.” 

“Don’t worry about it,” he turns as a sleek black car pulls up before you, “just get in.” 

[monty-glasses-roxy]

And before anyone ever starts to worry I'll see them in my notes and get annoyed or anything, that's literally impossible. I love seeing people's tags on my posts and spam likers going through everything. Especially on older posts like the Monopoly and Uno ones I just reblogged! It reminds me of what I've done and sometimes I'll look at the post again and reread it. It's real nice doing that sometimes and other times it springboards me into a new train of thought based on that and how I can fit those little scenarios into new ones.

So yeah, don't ever worry about being in my notes. I genuinely love to see people in there!

[thetransintransgenic]

With all due respect to the "WELCOME TO TUMBLR, TWITTER USERS!" post -- and it seems to have done well for itself and been appreciated and effective swimmingly -- the real "firing guns into the dirt every weekend to keep the rents down" is the people blazing their AB/DL shooting range pics.

[navybrat817]

Why isn't Bucky waking me up to have his way with me?

I wish I had the answer, nonnie!

Slip Inside

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky can't resist having you when he comes home.

Word Count: Over 1.5k

Warnings: Explicit sexual content, unprotected vaginal sex, somnophilia (at first), established relationship, pet names, possessive behavior, slight feels (it's me, okay?), lovesick and needy Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: I can't send Bucky, but here you lovelies go! ❤️Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky wasn't meant to be home until tomorrow. He almost called to let you know he’d be back a day early, but it was late and he didn't want to disturb your slumber. Imagining the happy look in your eyes when you woke up beside him brought a smile to his face. Being loved by you was something he still couldn't believe was real some days, but he knew in the depths of his soul that you would always be his girl.

“Welcome home,” he whispered to himself when he saw you in bed, a sight for sore eyes.

He kept his gaze on you as he undressed, careful not to make any noise. You had an arm draped over the pillow next to you, the one he usually rested his head on. His heart raced as he took a step closer and gently pulled the blanket away, your body barely covered by the shirt he recently bought for you. Shivering slightly, you tried to curl in on yourself, but stilled quickly.

Like you knew he was watching you.

“I love you,” he breathed into the room.

You replied with a moan and rubbed your hand against the pillow.

You were beautiful when you slept. If you asked him, you were gorgeous all the time. A breathless kind of vision that he grew to appreciate more and more each day. But you weren't like a piece of art for him to just admire. You were the type of beauty meant to be appreciated.

And he gladly did so with his hands, mouth, and cock.

Oh, he loved you. Fuck, he needed you, too. It was an ache. A hunger. Awake, asleep, it didn't matter as long as he had you. And you were understanding enough to let him take what he needed.

“Mine,” he whispered.

Bucky quickly took the opportunity to slip into the bed and spoon you from behind. Your steady breathing grounded him in a sense while awakening the beast he kept at bay. The one that wanted to come out and play. One that needed to bury himself deep and keep you full.

If you were awake, he would've turned your head to kiss you nice and slow, unrushed even with the mounting desperation. Instead he rubbed his nose and scruffy chin at the juncture between your neck and shoulder, breathing in the distinctly sweet scent of you while wanting to leave his claim. That no one else could touch or have you. That you were his.

“You're mine,” he growled lowly.

Rubbing the inside of your thigh once he pushed your shirt up enough, he heard your breathing hitch. He wasn't ready for you to wake up just yet, but it didn't keep him moving his hand higher and grasping the elastic of your underwear. He debated tearing the offending fabric off, but he couldn't fault you for wearing them.

You didn't know he'd come home tonight.

He also thought about touching you through your panties to feel you squirm under his touch. Your whines and whimpers always made his cock twitch, especially when you soaked the fabric. Sometimes he liked to shove them in your mouth so you could taste yourself and know he was the one who did that to you.

Only him.

He brushed his lips along your skin as he pulled it down, almost wishing he was in front of you so he could look down and see your exposed pussy. “Mine,” he whispered again as his fingers parted your folds and skimmed over your clit.

You moved back against him with a sigh, enticing him without even trying. Alternating between teasing the bundle of nerves and your slit, he felt his own breathing get heavier and harsh with each passing second. By the time he brought his fingers to his mouth to lick your juices away, his cock was hard and heavy with the need to sink into your dripping cunt. He grunted as your flavor exploded on his tongue. He was done with foreplay.

And with how you panted and writhed, you were ready for him.

He hooked your leg over his thick thigh to open you up, hoping it wouldn't hurt when you stretched around him. “I love you,” he said once more as he brushed the tip of his cock against your hole, sighing as he slowly filled you up.

He had to close his eyes and hide his face in your neck to keep from losing it. He could go for hours when he wanted to, but the feel of your warm wetness gripping him like a vice was almost too much. Finishing quickly or not didn't matter. You’d take it as a compliment if your sweet cunt made him empty himself inside you so fast.

But he had to make it last and make you come first.

With a deep breath, he got himself under control. You let out the sweetest whine when he almost pulled out completely and shoved himself back in. Curled around you, all you could do was take his deep thrusts. He could've breathed through his nose and tried to stay quiet. He could’ve gone slow and steady. But he moaned and nipped at your skin, not wanting to hide his desire for you.

He couldn't see your face, but he felt you roll your hips back as you began to stir and heard another whine escape. You weren't completely awake, but your body craved what he was doing to you. It was enough for him to roll you on your stomach and quicken his pace.

“Bucky?” You mumbled.

“Sorry, sweetheart. I couldn't resist. Your pussy’s too good,” he groaned, putting a hand to the back of your neck to hold you still. “I need you. Need to feel you come on my cock.”

You fluttered around him as he stretched over your back, forcing you to take every inch of him. Your body went pliant as you let out a tired and needy moan. If you wanted him to stop, you would’ve told him to do so. “Please,” you whined as he practically rutted into you.

“I got you,” he grunted, driving harder into you as your fingers twisted in the sheets. “Missed you. Missed you so fucking much. Might need to keep my cock in you all night.”

You trembled, both of you knowing you’d lay there and let him fuck you all night if he asked. You were so good for him. And greedy. It would be wrong of him not to give you what you longed for.

“And you'll let me fill you up, won't you? Of course, you will,” he panted against your ear. You tried to arch your back, but his massive frame overpowered you. “It’s okay. Just take it. Let me have you.”

Fucking you raw was a gift he’d selfishly continue to ask for and take. But how could he not? You always let out the prettiest sounds when he flooded your holes.

He couldn't stop himself from shoving his hand between the mattress and your body, seeking out your clit to tip you over the edge. Moans poured from you as he lightly pinched it, giving you the push you needed. “That’s it. Come on my cock. My cock. My good girl,” he encouraged as you clamped around him hard enough for him to lose his breath.

You nearly cried as he took you apart. “Bu… Bucky…”

“Trembling around my cock. Greedy girl,” he moaned, his hips snapping faster as he brought his mouth back to your ear. “My turn.”

He let out a deep groan as he stilled, filling you. His release hit him so hard his head spun, muttering his love for and possession of you as his eyes fluttered. You let out a broken moan as you clenched around him again and he had to keep from collapsing against you, both of you fighting for air.

“Love you,” he mumbled, wanting you to hear it now that you were awake.

He only pulled out so he could move you to your back and desperately kiss your lips the way he needed to, pushing himself back inside your leaking hole with a hum. Your eyes were half-lidded when he broke the kiss. Your gaze made him want to ruin you all over again.

“Love you, too,” you croaked, your back bowing when he groped your breast through the shirt. “Welcome home.”

Bucky’s heart pounded as he leaned down to kiss you again. It was a dance of tongue and teeth, dizzying and passionate. Some days you were the fire and others you were the fuel. You accepted the entirety of him and he welcomed everything you selflessly gave him in return.

“Good to be home, baby,” he smirked, brushing his thumb along your covered nipple. “Now stay awake. I need to fill you up at least two more times before the sun comes up.”

Even after that, he wasn't close to being done with you. But he was whole because he was home with you. And that would always be enough.

We deserve this, okay? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[seiwas]

papa nanami and how he can't decide which fleece jacket he should buy for his little girl—

they’re tiny, the length of the fabric spanning his two palms and a half. he’s thinking hard on this one—tan or pink? tan or pink… tan or pink.

the store is closing soon; the only free time he had was after work, now, half an hour before dinner. he should hurry so he can go home already—to his little girl and you.

he sighs, holding the jackets up again. tan or pink...

hm.

he makes his choice.

.

when he arrives home, crouching low as his little girl comes crashing into him—the shopping bag falls to his side, hands holding her close. you peek from the kitchen, smile warm and in love.

kento always makes it in time for dinner, no matter what.

after tickles and giggles and a big munching on her cheek, your little girl pulls her papa by his pinky, dragging him over to you.

you always give him a kiss on the cheek.

“welcome home, my love.” you whisper by his ear, setting the last bowl of food down on the dining table.

you spot the shopping bag by the foyer, sneaking him a look, “did some early gift shopping?”

he follows your eyes, picking up your little girl as he sets her down on her seat.

“bought some fleece jackets for her, before it gets too cold.”

your lips curl up, knowing you chose the right man; his foresight, the way he looks after you both—it makes your heart swell as you walk to pick up the shopping bag.

when you pry it open, you’re met with fuzzy bundles of tan and pink. you snort, “couldn’t pick?”

he flushes, cheeks turning the same shade as the fabric in front of you—he points to his suit, “she said she wanted to match with me.”

your mouth forms an ‘ah’, still smiling, “and the pink?”

“i thought it’d look cute on her.”

he turns to your little girl, grip tight on her silicon utensils as she stabs around her food. she’s almost on her way to full sentences now and it shouldn’t make him this sentimental, but it does.

he wants her to stay this tiny forever.

his little girl.

“what do you think, baby?” you hold up the pink jacket beside you, speaking to your daughter.

she giggles, silicon fork in hand as her bib bounces; her eyes, the same brown as her papa’s but shaped like yours, sparkles, “pwitty! pwitty on!”

“papa always has good taste doesn’t he?” you look at your husband fondly.

your little girl babbles, giggling.

and nanami doesn’t know what he did to deserve this—your little family, but if he has to buy every fleece jacket in the world to keep you both warm and toasty, he will.

he’ll even make you all matchy.

comments, tags, and reblogs are greatly appreciated ♡

@kentoangel @em1e @augustinewrites @crysugu @soumies @itadorey @mididoodles thought about u all while writing this 🥹

[goodnesspup]

Yall fuck it, im shipping wally and eddie

i mean just imagining?? "slumber party" but the two cant cuddle bc theyre in a secret relationship and gdi barnaby is in the middle of the bed

wally pulling down eddie by his tie bc hes so dang tall

*emerging from the back room in the post office to see a neighbor at the counter looking confused* "oh uh haha what a wonderful tour of how mail delivery works!"

"Hello Dear!" "Hello Darling!" "Oh are we going by last names now??!!"

STRONG HUGS for the love of lorde, strong warm comforting hugs from eddie

Craft day at wally's house with crafting and painting and art but it has to be in secret otherwise everyone will want to join craft day

only eddie gets to see the pre pompadour hairdo (and house ig bc its house)

Rumors / gossip spread fast in a tiny neighborhood but at least house can't talk