#WC: 1.3K

[sttoru]

·.⌇ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. you leave megumi with your husband so you can make them breakfast. you quickly realise that that might have backfired.

wc. around 1.3k

tags. dad!toji x wife!female reader. fluff. reader gets called ‘mama’ by both toji & megumi. half beta read.

“ow, careful there, brat.”

your husband’s deep voice echoes from within the bathroom. you’ve left megumi in his care this morning so you’d be able to make breakfast in peace. toji was all grumpy about it, since he had to wake up early when he had no work, but eventually agreed to your proposal.

you hum your favorite song while frying eggs. the sizzling in the pan did help avert your attention from toji’s grunts of annoyance somewhere in the distance, though only for a couple seconds. your hear your child’s laughter slip between the noises of aggravation. it piques your interest.

“one more time and i’m putting y’r ass in time out,” toji’s deep voice sounds muffled. he sounds rather serious about whatever is bothering him.

you turn the stove off and walk towards the hallway, standing at the doorframe as you look in the direction of the bathroom. you tilt your head and try your best to pick up on snippets of the conversation between your husband and son.

the sound of bottles dropping on the floor is the first thing that allows you to guess that megumi’s acting up. you know how mischievous your little toddler can get, especially at his age. toji isn’t one to gentle parent his kid—he tries to, of course, but sometimes he can’t help but be a bit rough.

“megumi fushiguro.”

you raise your eyebrows as toji uses your child’s full name. he rarely does, only when he’s really upset or about to lose his marbles. you decide to see what was going on for yourself. you walk towards the bathroom, cleaning your hands against the material of your apron. you knock once before pushing the door open.

you stick your head through the little gap, ready to identify the cause of the commotion. the first thing you notice is the chaos on the floor; bottles, tubes, toothbrushes, and all other kinds of products lay cluttered on the bathroom tiles.

your eyes then land on your husband’s broad and scarred back, “hey, honey. did something hap—”

your voice trails off once toji turns around, revealing the jaw dropping scene. nearly his entire face is covered in loads of shaving cream and even his black hair hasn’t escaped the soft foam.

the bathroom counter is completely wet, and the water runs down the edges in small drops. the culprit of this entire scene is sitting right on that same counter, clapping his dirty hands together that were smeared with toji’s shaving cream.

you blink and walk towards the two. you can’t possibly be mad at the sight, finding toji’s situation more funny than worrisome. You try to act serious and clear your throat, “uh, yeah. so what’s happened here?”

your husband rolls his eyes and nods his head at the little boy in front of him, who’s giggling and kicking his legs. toji tries to wipe the shaving cream from his nose, attempting to get it out of his hair as well, “i tried to be a good dad and include him in my morning routine, that’s what.”

the man clicks his tongue as he now realises how dumb of a mistake that was, “gave him the opportunity to put some shaving foam on my jaw ‘n the brat totally blew it. started attackin’ me with the stuff.”

toji grumbles. he wipes away the foam that got on the mirror afterwards. it’s nearly gotten everywhere. he lightly nudges megumi’s forehead with a scoff, “never again, y’hear? the little shit can’t sit still for even one second.”

that explains the stuff on the floor. you know that megumi could grow bored easily if he isn’t the centre of attention. he’d start doing anything to be the focus of his parents. toji probably didn’t pay him much mind, wanting to get his morning routine over with.

“language, honey.” you sigh and look down at megumi who’s still reaching his messy hands up to his dad.

toji huffs and leans back, not giving the little boy a chance to put more shaving cream on his face. he’s learnt his lesson; kids do not understand it when you tell them to ‘only put a little bit’.

megumi whines and threatens to throw a tantrum. you notice that immediately and try to keep his mind off things by picking him up. you turn on the faucet and try to wash his little hands, “c’mon. give mama your hands.”

the little boy shakes his head furiously, squirming in your embrace in attempt to get away. you sigh and grab his little wrists gently. you lower him to the sink, trying your best to wash away the shaving cream as the first step of solving this grande mess.

“no, mama!” megumi is stubborn as he voices his complains. toji watches from a distance whilst he struggles to clean the overload of shaving cream from his face.

you make the mistake of letting go of your child’s wrists to grab a washcloth. megumi takes his chance and pats his messy hands against your face, leaving you no space to process what he’s doing.

your mind takes a second before you realise what’s happening, “hey! quit it, ‘gumi.”

you try to grab ahold of megumi’s tiny hands again, but they move too fast for you. plus, he’s pretty skilled at avoiding yours. you can feel the foam slowly cover your entire face; from your jaw and cheeks, to your nose and forehead.

it was inevitable at this point.

“toji, do something,” you grunt and struggle to contain the energetic toddler in your arms. you take a peek at your husband and find him grinning at the predicament you’ve gotten yourself in.

toji simply shrugs and enjoys the fact that you’re experiencing exactly what he had experienced just moments ago. seeing you struggle to contain your disobedient child only proves that his parenting skills are not the problem in this situation, your toddler is.

“ye did that to y’rself, mama.” toji hums in amusement. he leans against the wall, the blue towel now loosely hanging off head after he’s given up on getting the foam out of his hair, “now y’know what i’m talkin’ about. he’s a lil’ monster.”

megumi squeals in victory after he’s gotten both his parents covered in shaving cream. you want to say something to your child, but you’re at a loss for words. even now, you cannot bring yourself to be mad at him. he’s just a kid who’s having fun with his parents.

“i made mama pretty! hehe.” megumi grins and encourages you to look in the mirror. he points at your reflection and awaits the words of confirmation. his blue eyes look up at you, nearly sparkling with joy, admiring how pretty he’s made you look with that white foam all over your face.

toji joins in on the fun. he comes to stand behind you, looking at you through the mirror. he snickers, already forgotten about his irritations that occurred in the first place. he nods in approval at megumi’s words, “gotta agree, son. y’r mama looks much prettier like this.”

your husband’s teasing comment adds fuel to the fire. though again, you cannot bring yourself to be upset at the situation.

you look at the reflection in the dirty mirror. you all may appear disheveled due to the foamy mess on your bodies—and yet even at that moment—the only thing you actually manage to see is a happy family of three.

[mysicklove]

cw: sub! megumi, dom! gn! reader, overstimulation, handjobs (as always), dacryphilia, slight sadism in reader, slight masochism in megumi? teasing, "good boy" used once.

wc: 1.3k

a/n: i have been recently hating my writing style guys what do I do </3 also I did this instead of hw so tonight is gonna suck.

“waitwaitwaitwait!” megumi mumbles into your neck for the third time this night. you feel another round of tears drip onto your collarbone, and shaky hands grip your t-shirt in a plea. he was naked — his pale skin seeming to flush a shade of red, and his spine was curved as he caved in over himself.

your thumb circles around the tip, teasing it until you watch another glob of precum bead at his slit. you crane your neck to look at him, using your free hand to tilt his chin up to press a small kiss to his lips. “doing so good,” you mumble into his mouth, and he lets out a broken sob, “staying still and taking it. we don’t need any rope today.”

his whole body feels to be on fire, and with every stroke of your hand, a whole new wave of overstimulation forces another shiver. the boy's mouth hangs open, lip glistening from a mix of saliva from your mouth and tears. “you’re so mean to me."

“poor thing,” you coo, knowing that you aren't going to do anything about his complaint. instead, you use your thumb to brush away some tears. he sniffles at you, nodding his head to hopefully coax some more praise. but your mind travels back to your movements, your wrists twisting back and forth as you focus on the red tip. “but you look so cute like this, i can’t help it, y’know that.”

his head falls back onto your shoulder, and immediately, he plants kisses on your neck, nibbling at the skin to try and distract himself. the top of his dark hair was matted with sweat, but the tips of it tickled your collarbone. you use your thumb to rub at his cheek as you continue to stroke him off, ignoring his sporadic jerks of pain. “can you cum again? just one more time, for me?”

the noise megumi lets out is meek, pathetic even, and he shakes his head into your chest. he has begun to hiccup from the intensity of his sobs, and his hand hasn't moved from gripping fiercely at your shirt. "last one," he breathes, rubbing his nose into your skin, "p-promise its the last one!"

you grab his face again with one hand and begin to pepper it with kisses, successfully wiping away more tears as he whines with shut eyes. his eyelashes are globbed together, and when he opens them again, he narrows them at you, slightly peeved and scared at your lack of response. "promise," he manages to get out before he bites his lip from you rubbing your pointer finger over his slit.

"fine, fine, I promise," you concede, and your hand stops teasing him, instead fully pumping him from base to tip. the act makes his thighs tremble, and you push them slightly more apart to give you easier access. the redness of his cock contrasts his pale skin adorably, and you can't help you're staring as he continues to leak.

"it hurts," he whimpers, mostly to himself, because all he can think about is how overwhelmed he feels. his thoughts are spinning, and even just the slightest touches on other parts of his body seem to startle him due to him focusing his entire attention on trying not to rip your hand off of his cock.

you don't pay attention to the whine, instead just pressing more kisses to his flushed cheeks, nibbling gently at the flesh while he sniffles. but, even with all the complaints and whines he was letting out, you've noticed that his hips have begun to buck back into your hand, only making the lewd noise louder. he tries to pretend that it was you who was torturing him, but his movements were of his own free will.

"you like it now?"

"no!" he says much too quickly, flashing you panicked eyes. "i-i just. 's not my fault!" at this point, you have fully stopped your movements just to watch in admiration of the boy. he was desperate in his movements, and with each thrust of his hips into the makeshift hole a coo leaves your mouth.

"aw, look, now you're getting excited. do you want to cum, megumi?" you purr, brushing his bangs back while twisting your other wrist. his eyes roll back, and his mouth remains open as he lets out quick, short breaths. now, his noises consisted more of moans rather than pained whimpers as he started to chase his high.

"n-no—yes. fuck I-" is all he manages to get out before your mouth is pressed onto his. but he pulls away only five seconds later due to his rapid heartbeat and the need for oxygen to keep up with it. you just chuckle at him and increase your speed, eyes flickering from the sight between his legs and his flushed face.

his thighs begin to squeeze shut, and his moans begin to increase in pitch, a telltale sign that he is teetering near his high. you chuckle at him when he begins to latch onto your neck, planting sloppy kisses to whatever surface he can. "are you close?"

he doesnt even attempt to speak, instead just nodding his head lazily. the act makes you roll your eyes and squeeze just a tad too hard on his dick in warning. he lets out a squeak at the feeling, and this time he does speak up. "yeah. yes. yes. c-close."

you pet his head, satisfied with his answer. "good boy. you can cum, alright?"

another set of tears pools in his eyes, and this time you cock your head to the side. "why are you crying 'gumi? I didn't hurt you that bad, did I?"

"no," he sniffles, "sorry d-dont stop. feels good, don't know why I'm crying. just don't stop!"

"relax. relax. I'm not," you reassure, kissing his face again. "you're lucky you are so cute, with all your demands."

he ignores you like he usually does when you tease him, but you are unsure if it is because he is being his usual self or because he is lost in pleasure.

seconds later, his hands grab at your shoulder, and he goes silent for a breath. then, just as the first rope shoots out, he cries, "cuming! of fuck. fuck!"

your lover's entire body quivers, and his mouth latches into your skin as the first wave washes over him. his eyes roll back and his mouth falls open with a silent scream. more tears come tumbling down his face, and you watch as the most pathetic amount of cum tonight comes dribbling out. it slides down his flushed cock and mixes with the movements of your hands.

eventually, when he comes down from his high and feels the stinging lick of overstimulation once again, he immediately forces your hand off, pinning the white-stained limb to the ground with frantic eyes. then he turns to you, even with his body jerking every couple of seconds from the aftershock, and glares at you — it doesn't hold much effect, considering his cheeks were flushed red and eyelashes were wet with tears, but it was cute nonetheless. "no. more."

you grin at the demand and use your clean hand to ruffle his hair. "your wish is my command, princess."

he narrows his eyes at the nickname, and the man tears himself from your arms. "I am going to shower," he mumbles before using all of his strength to stand up. he takes a step forward, and immediately he comes tumbling down.

megumi pretends he doesn't see the way his legs are trembling, but you see the way his ear twinged red in humiliation. you, of course, use it to your advantage. "need a little help there, Bambi?"

"you're not allowed to touch me for a week," he grumbles but grabs onto your arm and lets himself be left to the bathroom. it was an empty threat, as they usually are.

[dolcettamagica]

𐙚˙⋆.˚ 𝐁𝐚𝐝 𝐆𝐢𝐫𝐥

ceo!sukuna x secretary!reader, modern au

tags: degradation, daddy kink, dirty talk, fingering, spanking, true form sukuna notes: minors dni, one sequel to "𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘊𝘢𝘯 𝘉𝘦 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘉𝘰𝘴𝘴" - you decided to not text your boss Sukuna wc: 1.3k

Sukuna was fuming with rage as he sat at his work desk, eyes glued on his door waiting for you to finally come in. He gave you his private number, a number no one got (since he mainly fucked women at work anyway) and you didn’t call him? Not even bother to sent a message? Did you even save his number? Sukuna's rage was a tempest, a storm swirling within him, threatening to burst forth and consume everything in its path. His fists clenched so tight that his knuckles turned bone-white, his jaw tensed, muscles coiling like springs ready to snap. Each breath he took felt like fire searing his lungs, fueling the inferno of his fury.

It wasn't just anger; it was a primal force, raw and unbridled. How could you crawl over to him like a slut and then just ghost him. After he left the bar he couldn’t even get his cock soft – it waited to be buried deep inside your cunt. Suddenly (and finally) his door opened and you walked into the room, your eyes staring at the floor.

“Good morning, sir”, you greeted him sheepishly.

“Lock the fucking door and come over here, now.”

Your boss didn’t even bother to hide his anger and you were smart enough not to question his mood. Without a word you walked over to his desk. His red eyes were burning holes into your skin.

“Why didn’t you text me? I told you to do that”, Sukuna stood up, his fingers tapping on his wooden desk as he moved closer to you.

“I don’t think that would have been appropriate, sir.”

As the words hit his ears, a surge of anger coursed through Sukuna's veins like a bolt of lightning. The sentence struck him with the force of a physical blow. His jaw clenched so tight it felt as though his teeth might shatter under the pressure. A torrent of emotions roiled within him, a turbulent sea of indignation and frustration threatening to engulf him entirely. How could you dare utter such words, he seethed inwardly, feeling his temper flare hotter with each passing moment. Every fiber of his being screamed for retribution, for a release of the pent-up rage festering within him. Yet, beneath the anger, there simmered a sense of hurt, a wounded pride that stoked the flames of his fury even higher.

“Inappropriate, huh?” Sukuna's heart pounded with an adrenaline-fueled rhythm as he pressed you against his workdesk, his palm firmly planted beside you, caging you in. The suddenness of his action caught you off guard, your eyes widening in surprise before a flicker of excitement danced within you. His gaze bore into yours with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine, a silent declaration of desire. The scent of your perfume filled his senses, intoxicating him further as he leaned in.

“You know what’s inappropriate? All the times you went on break just to rub your little pussy after I praised you. The way you press your legs together in an attempt to not cum all over the place after I yell at colleagues who fuck up their work. You think I’m dumb, little one?”

Sukuna's lips grazed your neck, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine. The faintest touch of his lips against your skin ignited a fire within you, a wave of sensation coursing through your body like electricity. His kisses were rough and urgent, each one leaving a trail of heat in its wake. His grip tightened on your arm, a rough urgency in his movements as he spun you around, your back now pressed firmly against Sukuna’s chest. The suddenness of his action caused your breath to catch in your throat, your heart racing with a mixture of anticipation and apprehension. His touch was possessive yet intoxicating, sending a jolt of desire coursing through your veins. With your back against him, you could feel the heat of his body, the strength of his embrace and his hard cock pressing against your ass.

“You need to be punished, baby, Was waiting for you the night to text me”, he whispered into your ears before taking a step back, “Bend over the desk, slut.”

As you leaned over your boss's desk, the air seemed to crackle with tension. Your movements were graceful, yet purposeful, the lines of your silhouette casting a spell of allure. With each subtle shift, the fabric of your blouse hugged your curves, your skirt rocking up, teasingly revealing hints of the allure beneath. Sukuna, momentarily captivated by the sight before him, struggled to maintain his composure and not just fuck you right there and then.

“You’ve been a bad girl”, all of sudden, without any kind of warning, his hand smacked down on your ass, earning a small squeal, “You a little cocktease, huh? Knew damn well how fucking soaked you got after our simple kiss and then you decided to not text me after?”

“I-I’m sorry, sir”, he whimpered as another blow hit your ass. Sukuna pulled your skirt down to the ground, exposing your behind. Now it would start to hurt.

“Sorry doesn’t fucking cut it, baby. I wanted to fill you up real good last night. I would have come over just to let you bounce on my cock. Beg for forgiveness, slut.”  And once again he smacked your ass.

“I’m sorry” Another blow. “Pl-please…Please forgive me, Mr. Sukuna.” Another blow. Your ass was turning red at this point. “I’m begging you pl–please…ahh.” That moan was everything Sukuna needed to hear – so needy and eager, he imagined you would love for him to manhandle you like this. Such a dirty whore.

You were a begging, trembling mess before him and he loved every inch of the view. Grinning he reached his hand out, his finger grazing over your thong covered slit. “Soaked through your panties already, baby? That’s all it got? Some dirty talk and spanking? Want daddy to help you out?”

Self-respect? Professionalism? Everything left your body as soon as he called himself daddy. “Yes, please help me out, daddy.”

“Now you’re a good girl.” Sukuna pulled your thong down and you groaned as you felt him use his finger to circle your clit. Seemed like daddy knew your body well, knew the pressure and the patterns that could turn you into a stuttering and groaning mess. When he dipped his fingers inside of you, you shifted slightly to make him go deeper. His fingers fucked you open so well, deepening his strokes to rub your g-spot and draw you closer to the edge. You felt yourself give in to him, becoming more wet as he continued touching your clit and pumping his fingers into your sloppy cunt as well.

“You’re so fucking wet for me. Can you hear it? How my fingers ram in and out of your slutty hole, huh? Clenching me so well, sucking me in. Tell daddy what you want, little one, tell me.”

“D–daddy…please, please fuck me”, Sukuna never stopped fingering your hole and restarted spanking your ass, “I need your cock, daddy, ahh– I’m begging you to fill me up.”

You heard Sukuna unzipping his pants, something warm now pushing against your entrance about to replace his fingers.

“I’m going to fuck you so good, you’ll call me your god.”

Maybe you were way too horny and desperate, losing touch with reality because suddenly you felt two hands grabbing your waist while two other hands wrapped around your body and cupped your tits. Sukuna rammed his cock into your pussy but you could feel something even thicker and bigger laying on your ass.

“You’re my favorite human, little one.”

[cheonstapes]

Nothing in my mind but nerd! Miguel and titties.

I'm going back to sleep.

miguel o’hara stars in… ‘YOUR BOOBS LOOK HEAVY, LET ME HOLD ‘EM FOR YOU” ƪ(˘⌣˘)ʃ

a/n ~ i am so downbad for nerd miguel, what the fuck. titties, titties, titties, titties, rocking everywhere! thank you nonnie!!!! love you !! creds to @nymphomatique 💗

summary; you let miguel sleep over for the first time, and it definitely won’t be the last.

wc; 1.3k+

pairings; nerd!miguel x fem!reader

cw; SMUT!!, titties, body worship basically, switch!miguel, switch!reader, reader has pierced nipples, spanking, anal play, slapping, anal fingering, breeding kink/impregnation kink, cumming in pants, cumming kinda untouched?, biting, dry humping, they’re in love idc, nawt proofread - why did this take me like a week

miguel had been such a good boy for you, making sure you passed all your exams for this semester - you decided that he deserved a little treat

you invited him over one weekend to your dorm, telling him he was allowed to sleep over

he’s never moved faster with the way he packed up his bag and ran to your dorm which is on the other side of the campus

when he got there he was all sweaty n panting heavy, it was a little pathetic how eager he was but you let him in, making sure he went a took a shower asap

to be honest, you didn’t expect it to be hard for you to keep your hands to yourself, especially when your little boytoy is walking around your dorm in that combo - grey sweats and a tight wife beater, you can even see the outline of his abs

he followed you around like a lost puppy, it was cute at least. he couldn’t go two seconds without latching onto you in some way

he was just so excited! getting to spend time with his not-yet-but-almost girlfriend, seeing you in all your natural glory. you thought you had it bad? try hiding a hard-on whilst the woman of your dreams is walking around in booty shorts and a braless cami

speaking of that, miguel could just about make out your puffy, little, nipples through the fabric of your thin shirt - hello kitty barbells piercing your nipples

fuck, he was hard. and those sweats he was wearing weren’t making it any less obvious

miguel loves your tits. period. kneading the soft flesh, sucking on then, biting them. sometimes, whenever he cums inside, he imagines them filled up with milk - he would do anything to get you knocked up

you knew how horny he was, you could be wearing a trash bag and he’d still be as smitten for you as he is every second

so you made a decision - you told him to sleep on the floor.

you almost felt bad, almost

he looked like a kicked puppy, your 6’9 almost-boyfriend pouting like a child

i mean, you gave him a pillow and a blanket at least - plus, you have heated floors. it’s not that bad

he slept right on the side of your bed, making sure to face you directly so he could watch you sleep (not in a creepy way, he just loves you T^T)

you even made sure you were hanging just a little bit over the edge of your bed, an arm hanging over the side - a silent invitation for him to hold your hand

he was sleeping fine for a good while, hands still laced tightly with yours - but he was getting restless not touching you for so long

he stood up, as quietly as his huge ass feet would let him, walking round to the other side of the bed and sliding in

it creaked loudly but you were fast asleep anyway, so he moved closer

he wrapped a beefy arm around your middle, hand coming to rest on your chest

oh. yeah, your tits.

now he was hard again

he pressed himself against you, completely spooning you, large hands sliding under your cami and groping your tits

you weren’t an idiot though, you knew this was gonna happen - having calculated every possibility before he came. you would rather die than admit you were a bit nervous about him sleeping over too

you purposely wore the cami cause you knew it would rile him up, n he always took such good care of his mommy’s pretty tits

you turned to look at him, smiling teasingly - “why’re you in my bed, hm?”

—————————————————————————————————

miguel felt like he was in deep shit, he knew how easily you could flip on him despite that pretty smile. he immediately retracted his hand, stammering as he tried to sit up. “s-sorry, i just missed you. i…i couldn’t sleep, ‘n you just look so gorgeous when you sleep and i couldn’t help myself-“ god, he always talks so much. with a tight grip on his bicep, you drag him back down to the bed, pushing him down on the plush pillows as you straddle his waist.

he was so pretty beneath you. glasses laid somewhere on the floor, curly hairs framing his face. his hands gripped your ass, whining quietly as he ground up against you. “mommy…” you placed your hands on his chest, keeping him pinned to the bed as you leaned forward. he felt like he couldn’t breathe, your tits were resting just above his face, hard nipples grazing his lips. yeah, he was definitely gonna fuck a baby into you one day.

his hands moved up to your hips, squeezing the flesh before he placed a hand on your upper back pulling you down completely. miguel’s tongue snaked out to lick at your hard nipples, the sensation of the cold barbells on his tongue making his hips jerk up against the crotch of your tight shorts. “shit...when d’you get them pierced?”

you rolled your eyes, lifting up your shirt and grabbing the back of his head - pushing his mouth to your tit, grinding salaciously against his clothed cock. “none of your fuckin’ business. if you wanna suck on my tits, then shut up and suck.” you didn’t have to tell him twice.

he sucked hard, unable to resist imagining them filled up with milk, all swollen and heavy, you round with his kid- SMACK. his head whipped to the side, lips slipping off your spit-soaked nipple as he stared up at you in shock. his cheek was stinging, but his cock was straining even harder against the fabric, twitching as his face thrummed with pain. “stop thinkin’, and suck harder. you should even be grateful i’m lettin’ you sleep here, so worship mommy’s tits like you mean it.”

miguel grasped your ass once again, large hands digging into the flesh as he caressed your soft skin through your skimpy shorts, sneakily pulling the waistband down as he ran his fingers down to your cunt. ‘course you were wet, slick staining his sweats. he collected some on his fingers, dragging it back up to your puckered hole, thrusting two wet fingers inside as other hand controls your movements.

“f-fuck, wait, you dickhead.” he continued to suckle on your breasts, flicking and teasing your nipples, tugging on the barbell’s softly as his fingers sped up. your body was quivering in pleasure, his free hand spanking your ass occasionally whenever you would pull yourself away from his mouth - massaging the reddened flesh soothingly afterwards.

his mouth and tongue were downright sinful. the sensation racking over your whole body as your orgasm steadily approached, the swirling fire in your lower belly lighting up. you weren’t the only one, though. miguel was hardly keeping himself together, thick thighs trembling as he tried to keep himself from spilling out his cum in his boxers, the tip of his cock peeking out of his waistband. all he wanted to do was see you writhe in pleasure, see that beautiful face of yours glowing in ecstasy after your release.

you would always let out this adorable, whiny moan when you were close, lips parting, small breathy pants - he knew you better than he knew himself. he was more motivated than ever, fingers moving a bruising speed, tongue relentless. he tugged on your piercing hard, a hand coming to rub your engorged clit through your thong. “m-miguelll - shit, baby - ugh.” creamy liquid coated your panties, not your cum - but his. the red tip spurting out thick loads all over his stomach, the sticky mess tangling with his happy trail ‘n pooling in his navel.

“t-thank…fuck- thank you, mommy.”

you pushed him back to the floor, curling up in the blankets - cheeks heating up as you muttered. “yeah, whatever. shut the fuck up and go to sleep.”

“goodnight, sleep well p-pretty.”

“…night, miguel.”

yeah, you were falling for him - hard.

- my titties are small but he’d hold them like they weighed the world

[vroomvro0mferrari]

LN4 | Panic at the Disco

Summary: When you call your brother to pick you up from the club, it's his best friend who answers.

Lando Norris x Fewtrell!Reader

WC: 1.3K

Warnings: Maybe slight panic attack, insinuated sexual harassment/assault

Part 2

Masterlist

You rush through the club in a hurry, bumping into God knows how many people as you search for the exit. The hot, stuffy air makes it even more difficult to breathe as you keep pushing through the crowd. You can feel the wetness of your tears run down your cheeks as you reach the exit, nearly running into the bouncer checking IDs outside. You stand close to him as you wipe your cheeks and sniffle, trying to calm yourself down while you rummage through your purse in search of your phone. Taking a deep breath, you call your brother.

You wait impatiently as the phone rings. He doesn’t answer, so you call again. And again. Eventually, after three tries, the phone is picked up. 

“Hello? Max?” You say rushedly.

You hear some noise on the other side. In your frenzy, you don’t realise it’s not your brother, not from the mere grumpy hello the phone is answered with.

“Can you come pick me up? Please?” The sheer panic you’re experiencing is clear in your voice. Lando can even hear your sniffling through the phone as you wipe your hand under your nose. 

“Y/N? Is that you? Are you crying?” He asks, much more awake now as he sits up from his position on the couch.

“Who’s this? Lando?” You realise now that you hear him speak; it's your brother’s best friend – to your frustration.

“Yes”

“Why are you answering my brother’s phone?” You ask annoyed.

“We were just hanging out, he fell asleep and-”

“You know what – it doesn’t matter. Can you tell him to come pick me up please?”

“Where are you?”

“I’m not sure, uhm, it’s called Palace, I think.” You sniffle, “You’ll send him to get me?” You ask hopefully.

“I’ll come get you myself. I’m just putting my shoes on, I’ll be there in a bit.” He says, putting your brother’s phone on speaker mode and stepping into his shoes.

“Lando you don’t have to come, just tell Max to come pick me up, please. I need him right now.” You say, frustrated that Lando wants to come. He’s not who you want and need at this moment; you need someone who you can trust, who’ll protect you and make you feel safe after what just happened. You need your brother, a close friend, or maybe even your father, but not Lando. Why can’t he understand that? You can feel your tears welling up again in frustration.

Lando ignores you, however. “Are you safe right now? You should try to find a group of people or something, stick to them until I get there, okay?”

“Lan-” He cuts you off, in a rush to get to you. 

“Do you want to stay on the phone? I’m getting in the car right now, I’ll be there in, like, eight minutes.”

“Lando, just send Max, please.”

“I’m already in the car. Do you want me to stay on the line, or not?” You hear the car revving in the background.

You sigh. Nevertheless, you’re relieved he’s on his way and you don’t have to stay here much longer. “That’s not necessary, Lando. I’m with the bouncer right now. Just come quick, please?” You’ve given up on the idea that your brother might come, Lando’s very much set in his ways.

“Of course, I’ll be right there.” Lando says firmly before hanging up.

Although you and Lando aren’t the best of friends, you get along well enough. Regardless, you get caught up in discussions quite regularly; both of you are passionate and stubborn in your opinions – it rarely happens that you and Lando do not end up being separated by your brother or a mutual friend. However, that you know exactly how to push each other's buttons doesn’t mean Lando doesn’t care about you. In fact, the opposite is true. Although he would never admit it, Lando has liked you for quite a while and cares for you deeply, even though he doesn’t generally show his feelings. And so, when you call him (well, not him specifically, but that doesn’t matter) crying and upset, he worries about you. He could’ve woken up your brother, who you obviously would have preferred over him, but he wants to be the one who’s there for you. He wants to be the one who protects you and keeps you safe – better yet, the one who makes you feel safe, if he could ever accomplish such a thing.

Lando exceeds his own expectations when he arrives at the nightclub in under five minutes. Already spotting you standing with the big, bulky bouncer, arms wrapped around yourself in an attempt to keep yourself warm in the cold, late night (or early morning) breeze. He carelessly parked his car on the side of the road, barely turning on the hazard lights before exiting the car. 

“Y/N! Are you okay?” He jogs towards the club entrance, concern showing on his face.

You lifted your head at the familiar voice yelling your name. Quickly thanking the bouncer who kept you company, you rushed over to the familiar boy. You had never been so happy to see Lando.

He pulled you into his arms as soon as you were within his reach. Cradling your head and brushing your hair with one hand, while the other pulled you closer by your waist. Although you initially wanted your brother to come, this was good too – you’d even go as far as to say you were enjoying it. Despite your differences, Lando’s presence (more specifically, his strong arms holding you tight) made you feel at ease and calmed you down. He relieved the tenseness of your body and you relaxed in his hold. Hiding your face in his neck and fisting the fabric of his shirt, you nestled yourself comfortably in Lando’s body and exhaled the breath you had been holding.

He buried his nose in your hair on the top of your head, breathing in your scent and smiling at the feeling of you snuggling into him. It felt right, so right, to be holding you like this. He whispers, “Are you okay?” You merely nod your head, not wanting to leave his embrace. “Do you want to tell me what happened?” He questions further.

You stay silent, enjoying Lando’s strong hold on you. It makes you feel safe. Safe enough to share what happened in the club. “There was some random guy who thought he was entitled to my attention.” You mumble into his neck.

“He didn’t touch you, did he?” He continues, already fearing the answer.

You let a silence fall before answering, “He did,”

Lando squeezes you tighter at the revelation. He’s not surprised a man ruined your fun night out.

You continue quickly, “But there were some girls who helped me, and I think they kicked him out. I’m not sure though, I left as soon as I could. Then I called Max, but he didn’t answer, and now…”

“I’m sorry,” Lando says, a pained expression on his face. “Men are shit.”

You let out a small laugh and Lando can barely avoid shivering at the feeling of your warm breath hitting the sensitive skin of his neck. Nevertheless, he smiles in accomplishment when he hears the sound, glad he could cheer you up.

“You want to go home? To my place, I mean, Max is there…”

“Yes,” You say into Lando’s neck, sighing before distancing yourself from him.

He kisses the top of your head before letting you leave his hold, “Let’s go then.” He says, pulling you along to his car, still tucked into his side.

– – – – –

Part 2

[taintedcigs]

— fall into pieces

pairing: steve harrington x f!reader

summary: steve comes in his pants from eating you out. that's the plot. (wc: 1.3k+)

warnings: smut without plot basically, or*l (f!receiving), praises, steve cums in his pants, soft smut!, steve is attentive, MINORS DNI.

author's note: not proof-read. this is dumb and doesnt make sense bc i wrote it in 20 mins bc i desperately needed to get out of my stupid slump sooo just pls support me in my shitty writing era thank you.

pleaseeee reblog to support me. ty!! mwah.

Steve loves eating pussy.

Scratch that, Steve just loves eating you out.

Because let's face it, before you, he didn't really care that much about the other girl's pleasure, or he just wasn't really that keen on eating pussy.... that was until you came along.

He didn't know what it was, that had him hooked on you this much, how much he enjoyed tasting you like a man possessed when it came to eating you out.

You taught him how fucking pleasurable eating pussy was, and it unironically changed him.

Once he realized how much it mattered to him to make you cum, he decided to make it his mission. Make a mental note of how you responded when he did anything.

He studied the noises you made when his fingers lightly traced your inner thighs, the shaky breaths you gave him as you silently pleaded, begged for more.

He started picking up on the way your body gave into him, slowly at first, and then all at his mercy. Padded thumb circling around your clit, velvety lips puffing a huff of cold air, making you whine while he wore that cocky smirk, hook, line, and sinker.

He just didn't realize how much it got him off to see you like this, to taste you fully, not until now.

"Such a gorgeous fuckin' pussy," he hummed, pressing upwards, just a little bit, reveling in the way your back arched for him. Once he finally got you prepped, smearing your juices all over, earning more sounds from you, then he pushed a finger inside of your soft walls, drawling the sweetest sounds.

"God, s'fuckin soaked, honey, all f'me?" he asked, tilting his head slightly, lips turning into a mocking pout, earning nothing but incoherent babble from you. He adds another finger, drumming his fingers inside of that sweet spot, turning you into gooey mess, his cock twitching in his pants.

Only when you pathetically murmur out a "S-steve!" that he finally kisses you all over, tongue licking up a flat stripe up your cunt, making your brain short-circuit.

"Y'like that, sweetheart?" He hums, and you nod all dumb, making him chuckle in that arrogant tone, yet you can't even argue.

He is that good.

The tip of his nose brushes against your clit, "ride my face, honey," he murmurs, but it's more like an order, that perfect chocolatey gaze so full of lust that you can feel yourself clench, nothing but a little "okay" coming out of your glossy lips.

And he groans at your fucked out face, you look so perfect. Spread out in front of him, glistening with arousal, head thrown back, plushy lips slightly open with your uncontrollable moans.

He buries his face in your cunt before you can beg him to, teasing with kitten licks before sucking your clit into his mouth, you cry out in all glory, thighs squeezing his head, hands crushing the sheets beneath the two of you in need.

His cock twitches at the sound, caged beneath his boxers the more you grind against his tongue, and he fucking smirks at you, watching your face twist the second he slips his index fingers inside of you, words roll out of your tongue as nothing but disordered sounds.

His cold fingers curl inside of you, making you arch your back against him, you want to beg for more, but you can barely speak.

And of fucking course, he can tell, his devilish smirk growing wider before his padded thumb circles around your clit, the tip of his tongue keeping the rhythm.

His cock feels stiff, so fucking stiff that it feels uncomfortable, wanting, needing to feel your walls, to be inside of you, watch the way his huge cock stretches you fully.

"S-steve!" He knows that tone all too well, singing for him, the sweet sounds of your whimpers, letting him know that you are close to the edge, and he doesn't hesitate to add another finger.

"Doin' so good for me, sweetheart, you close, huh?" He mocks all knowingly, tongue sucking your clit while his fingers circle around it, it's all the stimulation you need and more, body going frail with how attending he is.

You give a slight nod, body flushed with lust, cunt clenching around him, "Use me," he begs, desperate, needing to see how heavenly you sound when you come around him, the prettiest face you wear.

"Use me to get yourself off, baby." The words sound filthier with his whiney tone, you know he's close too, just by eating you out. And it makes you want that sweet release so much more, chasing it eagerly.

His tongue picks up his movements, fingertips rubbing your clit with vigor, and you ride his face in all glory, chasing that little taste of heaven.

You don't know if it's the "Good girl," praise he offers, his fast-paced fingers on your swollen buds, or that celestial tongue of his sucking on your clit, but you lose it all. "Oh, f-fuck!" You moan out, every control of your body, gone.

Going to pieces when he makes you cum, your taste flooding his senses, overtaking him as well. It's all he wants, worship you, taste you on his tongue, watch your face contort over and over again.

That's the routine normally, but now it makes him realize how much more he enjoys this, having you spread apart in front of him, pussy fluttering around his tongue and fingers, and that's all it takes to have him leak all over, hips grinding into nothing but the sheets, cumming in his boxers, groans leaving his mouth.

It takes you a minute to register it all, barely able to catch your breath. "Steve, d-did you-" You looked down at his boxers, all warm and wet.

"S-shit, baby, I'm sorry, I just-" He mumbled, almost embarrassed, words jumbled together, blushing furiously.

God, that was so fucking hot.

He avoided your gaze, looking down on the mess he made, warm load spread all over his boxers, sure to leave a stain. Sticky and embarrassing him. "You just looked so fuckin' hot and tasted so good-"

"Steve," You interrupted him, his attention all on you, gaze so sweet that he can't avoid it. "What are you apologizing for that was so fucking hot," you blurted out, eyes blown wide with lust all over again.

"W-what?"

"Baby, you cumming your pants from eating me out just made you ten times hotter." You groaned all whiney, leaning in closer to him.

"Do you need me to take care of you now, Stevie?" You asked, tone sultry, and your doe-eyed gaze, dangerous, making his cock stiffen in record-breaking seconds.

"Keep talkin' to me like that and I'll cum in my pants once again, baby," he teased with a whine, lips still curled into a grin, making you giggle with your head thrown back.

"C'mere," you grabbed him by his shirt, kissing him roughly, teeths clashing and lust filling the room again as you tasted yourself all over his tongue.

Eager to make him fall into pieces again.

[hannieehaee]

ARE WE STILL FRIENDS (teaser)

18+ / mdi

summary: being besties with two of the most popular idols in korea always came with a few rumors here and there, but what happened when one of your platonic besties suddenly started acting a little friendlier than usual? or worse, what happened when they both turned their affections to you?

content: idol!au, hybeidol!reader x idol!mingyu, hybeidol!reader x idol!jungkook, 97liner!reader, friends2lovers, not mingyu x jk (they just share u like all besties would<3), not that much plot, afab reader, smut, oral (f and m receiving), body worship, fingering, penetrative sex, etc.

(^ no actual content warnings in the teaser)

wc: 1.3k (teaser); 8.2k (full fic)

release date: april 27th

or you can check it out on my ko-fi or patreon today by subscribing to either one!

a/n: decided to write a little surprise fic!! ive been getting into bts lately and so this was born<3

masterlist | kofi/patreon

support me through a one time tip<3

"Do you think the company would get mad if we did a live together right now?", Jungkook pondered out loud as the three of you sat on different pieces of furniture around his large living room.

"Yeah."

"They didn't seem to mind when Jungkook and I did it that one time," disagreed Mingyu.

"Yeah, but I'm the girl. I'm the one who wakes up to new dating rumors every time we hang out publicly."

"Yeah, but people must know we're just friends by now, right? It's been years."

That much was true.

You weren't sure of the exact date, but your friendship with both boys predated the overall international success of Kpop as of recent years. When you had met both boys, they had barely battled their way through puberty – though you weren't faring any better.

The media enjoyed making the three of you a subject, knowing that you were evidently the closest out of all members of the popular 97s friend group. Being the only girl integrant, it was common for people to have the misconception that you were romantically involved with either Mingyu or Jungkook, seeing as you were often spotted in public with them.

You'd gotten used to the rumors and hate that came attached to being their friend, now usually leaving those things in the back burner rather than letting them bother you. By now, the three of you were a bit more careless about being seen together. Being seniors in the industry, those things didn't matter much to you anymore, but being seen inside Jungkook's house would surely stir up the worst rumors to date, so going live with him was entirely out of the question.

It did bother you sometimes; the double standard. While Jungkook and Mingyu could even interact in public or mention each other freely, any time you did so you were met with hate from either fandom, sometimes even your own. It also made you worry about your future. Could you ever be in a relationship without facing the brunt of all the hate that would come your way? At 26 years of age, it was a frustrating reality to think about.

Jungkook got up at some point to go fetch some more bottles of soju. Apparently the seven bottles the three of you had drank collectively weren't enough for the large men you were drinking with.

While Jungkook was gone, Mingyu got up from his seat on the couch opposite to you and took a seat down next to you, invading your personal space like he usually did.

"Worrying your pretty little head about something?", asked Mingyu as he leaned over you, taking the occasional sip from his drink.

"It's nothing."

"C'mon, what's up?", his hand ran up and down your arm in a soothing manner.

Invading your space and being overly touchy usually meant that he was tipsy. But to be fair, you were a bit tipsy too.

"Do you ever think about dating?"

"Who? You?", he chuckled.

"No, dumbass. I mean in general."

He seemed to sober up a little at the mention of the subject, straightening up a bit as he sat sideways on the couch so he could look at you fully.

"What's got you thinking about that?"

"I don't know ... I'm 26 now. Isn't it time I started settling down? Have someone filling up the other half of the bed," you pondered, feeling a bit pathetic as you did so.

Mingyu let out a quiet sound of confusion, eyebrows furrowed and head leaning to the side in question.

"Isn't that what me and Jungkook are for?"

Not taking him seriously, you chuckled and took a swing of your almost empty bottle of soju.

"I'm serious, Mingyu. I mean a romantic relationship, where, you know, it's just us and we do couple things and we settle down and all that stuff."

"What can you do with some guy that you couldn't do with us?", he grabbed both your drinks and set them on the table.

Suddenly, his demeanor seemed a bit more serious, which confused you.

Where the hell was Jungkook with those drinks?

"I- Are you serious? Do you need me to tell you?"

"Yeah, I mean, why would you need to look for some guy if you have us?"

Oh. He was serious.

"Because we're friends?," you were beyond confused, "I can't go out with you romantically, or move in with you, or," you gulped, "or sleep with you."

"You can't?", he scoot closer to you.

"Mingyu ..."

"I just mean ... Why would you go after some loser when we can just take care of you?", his hand went back to touching you, though this time it ran up and down your thigh rather than your arm. That false semblance of innocence was gone, "You want someone to keep your bed warm? You don't even have to ask ... I'll do it- we'll do it."

Through his short speech, he got closer and closer, just as the air in the room got heavier. The atmosphere itself shifted dramatically, specially with Mingyu so close to you.

Mingyu was the touchiest man you'd ever known. Being his best friend, you had fallen victim to his touchy demeanor endless times, but never like this. Never while his eyes were hooded and heavy with some emotion you'd never seen in them before.

"Gyu, I-"

"Can I show you?", he rasped, eyes now on your lips.

"Y-you're drunk," you were sure that must've been it. The combination between drinking and talking about dating must've short circuited his brain.

"Just tipsy ... Tipsy enough to get the balls to tell you how much I want you ... but lucid enough to remember how many times I've thought about this."

The hands on your thighs moved to your waist, closing in on you, slowly pulling you toward him. By the end of it, you were halfway sitting on his lap.

"You've thought about this?"

Your nervous hands went to his shoulders for support, easily giving in to him.

"So many times. Jungkook too," he chuckled as he began burying his head in your neck, lips ghosting the sensitive skin.

Lacking any control of your body, you repositioned yourself to allow him better access to you, now fully on his lap as he sat sideways on the couch, arms wrapped fully around you and face buried in your neck.

"Gyu, I-"

"Yeah? Is this okay? Is it okay if I kiss your neck like this? This is what you wanted, right? Someone to take care of you?", he mumbled as he made his way to your ear with breathy kisses.

You were burning up, completely powerless to Mingyu. It was kind of embarrassing how easily you gave in to him. How you had been entirely unaware of his want for you until five minutes ago, yet you were now pliant in his hold, willing to listen to his senseless argument about him and Jungkook being good replacement for a relationship. You also had that to think about – the Jungkook aspect of it all.

The reminder of Jungkook's presence woke you up a bit, remembering that you were literally sitting on your best friend's lap while in your other best friend's living room.

With half a mind to let Mingyu do whatever he wanted to do with you, you powered your way through your decision to pull him away from your neck.

"Gyu, wait. Kook could get here any minute-"

"Don't stop on my account. Seemed like you were having fun without me."

Your head snapped to the door at the introduction of the raspy voice of your best friend, finding said friend leaning against the doorframe with a few drinks in one hand and a few ramen cups stacked on the other.

"Jungkook-"

"So, can someone catch me up?", he got closer, dropping off all the food he was carrying on the table and sitting next to you on the couch.

...

read today on ko-fi or patreon by subscribing to either one<3

NOTE: it wont let me reply to people anymore but ill be tagging everyone who comments asking to be tagged just letting u guys know<3

[ssahotchnerr]

omg could you maybe write something about reader going to one of jacks soccer games and all of the moms are jealous of her bc she’s with hotch

not so friendly competition

omg i absolutely can cw; fem!reader, jealous suburban moms, one tries to make a pass at aaron, established relationship, small angst?, pettiness, aaron being adorable <3 wc; 1.3k

from the moment you arrived - a hand clasped in aaron's, jack excitedly sprinting ahead the two of you - you could feel the target on your back.

the warm, refreshing morning suddenly felt quite stuffy. as if strangely enough, there wasn't enough air to go around. the feeling especially solidified when aaron gave you a sweet, parting kiss - him off to uphold his coaching duties, you off to find a spot on the grass to set up your chair.

you half expected it, the feeling out of place and self consciousness; this was jack's second season playing soccer, aaron's second season coaching, and most of the players had returned from last year. long story short, and entering a relationship with aaron only a few weeks after jack's season had concluded, you were the new face.

not only that, you were missing a common trait amongst the others. you weren't, by definition, jack's mom.

it was a silly, technical notion, and it was quite possible you weren't the only outlier, but you simply wanted to belong there just as much as the others. to feel as if you belonged.

and that's definitely not how you currently felt.

despite your perception - hoping you had falsely and quickly misjudged the atmosphere - you offered the moms a smile and a hello as you got settled. you got maybe one, two responses in return, before they resumed their ongoing conversation without you. any hopefulness that remained, deflated as you sat there silently.

and while you weren't exactly listening to them, you could still make out bits and pieces of their conversation. however, your ears fully perked up at the mention of aaron. which also brought you into the discussion.

"you're with the coach?"

her question wasn't based on genuine interest, a getting-to-know-type basis, a friendly conversation starter. but, it was rather accusatory, as if you'd done something detrimentally wrong.

you nodded, your eyebrows furrowing briefly in confusion. "yes?"

"like... with him?"

oh.

the standoffish environment wasn't due to you being unwelcome, or, at least not in the way you had previously anticipated. it was jealousy, plain jealousy. they must've spent all of last season ogling aaron, and here you were, getting in the way.

again, you nodded in confirmation. a few grimaces were produced amongst several faces, igniting something deep within you, suddenly feeling very protective of aaron and your relationship.

you casually shot back, relentlessly, "why, is that a problem?"

the mom shrugged, pulling her eyes from yours annoyingly, as if you'd done her an injustice.

she didn't stop there though, uttering something under her breath. while you didn't hear what it was exactly - the low tone definitely indicated she had just insulted you in one way or another.

and choosing to remain on the civil side, you held your tongue.

the whispers continued sparingly; as much as it stung, and as much as the red-hot feeling that had settled in your body was uncomfortable, why should you let it affect you? they weren't a threat, they were suburban moms - probably peaked in high school, probably relied off their husband's salary, probably thought they were better than each and every person they came across.

you could be annoyed, but you weren't worried. the bigger picture, you had what they wanted; you had aaron. you've already won, despite any fights they attempted to pick.

"i need to stretch my legs." the same woman abruptly said, loudly to gain your interest.

she promptly rose, walking towards the team's bench. or more specifically, right up to aaron.

she was quick to strike up a conversation with him - overdramatizing her already-shrill laugh, displaying open body language, the sweetest smile she could muster up.

what did you in, a 'friendly' touch to his arm before she retreated, whenever she finished saying whatever the hell was so important she had felt the need to interrupt his coaching for.

and throughout such, aaron appeared as his typical friendly self as he engaged with her, as expected. although a look of confusion did flash across his face when she graced his arm.

your jaw clenched in anger, but you kept reminding yourself: her actions were just to spite you, just to piss you off, and you refused to give her the reaction she seemingly so desperately craved.

so when she returned, with an awfully smug look plastered on her face and dropping into her chair with a sense of pure satisfaction, you kept your focus forward. you came to watch jack's game, and that's exactly what you were going to do.

but during the mid-game break, once aaron had finished talking with the kids and they sprinted back onto the field to practice some goals, did you approach him.

"hi sweetheart," aaron mumbled into your skin as he kissed your temple, one of his hands comfortably finding your back. "enjoying the game?"

you nodded, offering him a timid smile.

"what's wrong?"

"nothing." you lied, tucking yourself into his chest. you took a deep breath and sighed, smelling the traces of light sweat and grass clinging to him.

"you don't think i buy that, do you?" he asked, a gentle, almost comical tone to his words - all to lighten up your present tension. "what is it?"

you shook your head, "i don't want to talk about it..." your eyes shot over to your new best friends, whose eyes were glued to the two of you. "here."

aaron glanced over at them, profiling immediately. "are they giving you a hard time?"

after a moment's hesitation, an annoyed huff escaped you. "let's just say they're not too happy that the coach is taken."

"what?" aaron laughed breathlessly, his face scrunching the smallest amount in confusion. "half of them are married."

"clearly that doesn't matter, they're still over there undressing you with their eyes." you arched an eyebrow, the scowl on your face only deepening.

"c'mon, you're too pretty to make that face." aaron lightly teased, kissing your pout gently. at the touch, your face did relax, the ends of your lips itching to turn upwards into a smile.

"oh they're gonna hate that you did that."

aaron shrugged, kissing you again. "let them."

you surrendered yourself to your smile, but you still frustratedly crossed your arms in front of your chest. "it's ridiculous."

aaron was quick to untangle your hands, holding onto them and applying a gentle squeeze. "you know you don't have competition. you have me."

"i know. that's why i feel so stupid i'm letting it bother me." you gritted through your teeth. "what did that one woman even say to you?"

"truthfully, i couldn't tell you. i wasn't paying attention." he answered honestly, his eyebrows drawing into a line as he even attempted to mentally recall it.

you couldn't help but laugh, pressing yourself more into him. "you're insufferable."

"i try." aaron joked, but his expression switched tactics, to genuine concern as he moved in front of you, "in all seriousness, are you going to be okay?"

"yeah." you brought your hands to his chest, running your thumbs against his pecs affectionately. you already were. "i have you, don't i?"

"and you could always stay here with me." aaron playfully, but earnestly offered. "and be my beautiful, thoughtful, astounding, beautiful assistant coach."

"you drive a hard bargain," your eyebrows rose, feeling his chuckle underneath your fingers. "but it's okay. i'm not gonna let them think they're running the show, or that they can step on me like that." you shook your head. "and as needed, i might have to flaunt you around."

aaron grinned, proudly. "that's my girl."

[archonsabyss]

╰─..✶. [ Love Consumed ]

❒ Featuring: Zayne; Sephiroth; Madara Uchiha x Fem!Reader [individually]

❒ Genre: smut [nsfw 18+]

❒ Warnings: choking in zayne's! penetrative sex! unprotected sex! nudity! fingering! mention of blood! boob sucking! spit/saliva! oral (f)

❒ WC: zayne 1.3k | sephiroth 1k | madara 788

─❒ Authors Note: i was thinking so hard about their back muscles, biceps, and shoulders that I decided to put these three into the same post?? like the brain rot is real, so real!! And no it's not favouritsm with the word counts, they ended perfectly just where it was meant to 🤍

# 𝖹𝖠𝖸𝖭𝖤

The silence that dwindles within the apartment is oddly comforting, enough to have the tension leave your shoulders as you stare through the windows watching the flickering lights and the ongoing traffic. While you immerse yourself in the tranquillity, a subtle presence embraces you from behind. Zayne's quiet steps draw near and then he envelops you in a back hug, his bare chest meeting your exposed back.

"Does my bed not meet your comfort standards?" He inquires, the playful tone barely evident in his voice. You promptly shake your head dismissing the notion.

"It's alright"

"Alright?" He chuckles, the sound resonating like a warm melody. Zayne's arms tighten around your waist, "I see you're a tough critic when it comes to beds,"

You playfully nudge him with your elbow, "It's not about the bed, it's about the company"

His grasp subtly tightens, and he lowers his chin onto your shoulder. His hands gradually wander lower, leaving you breathless. "Well then, I'm glad I have your approval as company," He murmurs, the heat of his breath gently caressing your ear and you incline your head to grant him further access. The closeness between you elicits pleasant shivers down your spine, a sensation both comforting and exhilarating in its intensity. A gentle breeze stirs through the open window, bringing the fragrance of his cologne to envelop your senses. The air crackles with tension, each moment escalating. His warm mouth plants wet kisses on your shoulders and his fingers playfully tease your sensitive entrance before a single digit slips into your drenched core, causing your knees to instantly weaken, already fatigued from the many previous rounds. His strong arms serve as the only support, moulding your body against his, turning you into pliant putty in his grasp.

The whimpers that escape your lips are like the melodic notes produced by strumming a guitar and the hands that orchestrate you are as adept and efficient as the music they craft.

"Not enough yet?" Zayne remarks with a rather smug tone as his hand smoothly wraps around your waist and guides them to press against his growing erection while his fingers plunge deep inside you. You find yourself unable to respond; the sensation is euphoric but overwhelming and there's a fear you won't be able to keep up. Your head spins as his unrelenting pace continues to escalate.

"You ought to be resting; there are only four hours of night left," He says as if he's not the one who instigated this, as though he's not the one who has kept you awake the entire time. A choked noise slips from you as his free hand gradually glides up your stomach to encircle your neck, his fingers flexing, and veins delineating a course from his hands to his forearms. He starts with a tender squeeze causing your eyes to roll back. This time, your knees weaken completely, leading you to stumble forward but he swiftly withdraws both hands from your neck and core to catch you. Zayne lifts you into his arms and carries you to his bed a mere five feet away. As he places you on the bed, a subtle, almost elusive smile appears on his lips, and without uttering a word, he hovers above you and reconnects his mouth with yours. The kiss intensifies instantly, deepening as he moves his body against yours. The rhythmic motion of his hips creates friction, stirring desire, and causing his arousal to heighten even more.

Your hands wander across the expanse of Zayne's chest, his lips parting, and breath mingling with yours. Amidst the pleasure, you can't help but be captivated by the sight of his flexing muscles, tousled hair, and a delicate sheen of sweat, casting a radiant glow upon his skin. As you withdraw gasping for air, you meet his gaze and notice the furrowing of his brows, a clear manifestation of his lust. The intensity in his eyes could be daunting for someone unfamiliar, yet your trust in him allows you to perceive the struggle. His expression reveals a man torn between restraint and a desperate desire to succumb to his yearnings.

"Perhaps taking a rest would be wise," he suggests, though in reality, it's merely a courtesy, as the choice isn't truly yours tonight. Not when you've stirred him to the point of endless arousal, plunging him into a state of complete obsession and addiction.

Smiling at him with a vacant gaze, you extend your hand between you, caressing his swollen cock, causing him to flinch and emit a hiss.

"Perhaps satisfying me would be wiser"

Zayne chuckles, shaking his head, as he reaches down to intercept your hand still in motion, compelling it to release its grip before pinning it above your head.

"I suppose you're right"

"I'm always right"

"That you are, my love" He never refuses and never denies, in his eyes you are right and you are wrong, everything good and everything sinful. His senses get lost, and his rationality and sensibility grow legs and walk out the door. When he's with you, he only sees you. Taking a slow steady breath, he aligns his cock at your soaked entrance and without warning thrusts into you, stuffing you to your breaking point. You squirm within his grasp, your voice resonating like a collapsing skyscraper as you gasp and moan his name.

"Shhh, deep breathes" Zayne's features align in a determined gaze with furrowed brows and a fixed, intent expression, embodying a clear sense of focus as he watched the way he penetrated you, your slick seeping and coating his cock. The scene is mesmerizing, pushing him closer to the edge of release. He lifts his hand and slides his thumb between your parted lips, pressing against your tongue, causing your eyes to nearly roll back in pleasure. Your body moves in rhythm with his, the bed shifting beneath you as drool escapes from your mouth. You're thoroughly fucked and it hasn't even been that long.

You murmured his name in a hushed chant as his thumb tantalizingly danced over your tongue. Zayne adjusts his hips, and his cock finds its mark, causing you to erupt in a series of gasps and chokes.

"There?" He asks, but you're holding back tears. He chuckles, saying, "Perhaps a little higher then?"

His hands grasp your hips firmly, leaving the promise of lingering marks. Pulling you back with each commanding snap of his hips, he relentlessly pounds into you, affirming his enjoyment in tandem with yours. A forceful movement sends his cock even deeper, targeting that sensitive spot within which forces your back to arch and your core to tighten around him. With a high-pitched whine, you're hurtled into an intense orgasm. Zayne isn't far from climaxing, his hips moving erratically as he pursues his release. With a few more thrusts, his movements become unsteady and he buries his cum deep inside you, filling your core with his warm essence.

He stays in place as your cum mixes and your breaths regulate, his member gradually softening as he awkwardly withdraws from you. You instinctively tighten, attempting to prolong the connection for as long as you can physically manage and he finds amusement in your actions but doesn't resist. Instead, he scoops you up into his embrace and holds you close for a fleeting, perfect moment, fulfilling every desire you've ever harboured. You think this is how the night─ morning concludes but suddenly you find yourself lying on your stomach with his chest pressed against your back and his nipples teasingly grazing your skin.

His lips linger by your ears, "Rub yourself against me"

You turn your head to look back at him, although it's hard you're able to catch his gaze, marvelling at his endurance. With genuine curiosity, a sudden realization dawning on how you've ever managed to walk after such an extended and vigorous encounter, you ask, "Do you ever get tired?"

His fingertips glide across your shoulder blades as he plants a kiss on your shoulder, his erection growing harder as it presses against your ass.

"You have a way of making it all worth it. Tired? Perhaps a little. Regretful? Never."

# 𝖲𝖤𝖯𝖧𝖨𝖱𝖮𝖳𝖧

Rarely, if ever, did Sephiroth flinch when a blade breached his skin, nor did he flinch when a dagger meticulously etched countless cuts across his body. With blood trickling from the wound, a slight tilt of his head and a small smirk were all he offered in acknowledgment of the attack, but when it boiled down to revealing such intense and immersive emotions there was no one else but you who could draw them out of him.

A haze of lust and desire looms over you, the room growing warmer with each movement. Sweat accumulates and all rational thoughts elude you, your mind blanking when his hips adjust and he thrusts into you with relentless intensity. Your nails dig into his shoulder as your back lifts off the bed in response. He seems no more tired than he was when he came home and took you to bed; his strength and stamina show no sign of waning, evident in the powerful thrusts he delivers repeatedly. Your moans ascend from the depths of your throat and reverberate off the walls of the room as Sephiroth lifts one of your thighs over his shoulder, driving his cock deeper. No barriers are remaining between you; clothes lie scattered across the floor and the sheets are in disarray, half off the bed.

Sephiroth's hair cascades down in silver strands, sleek and flowing like a cascade of liquid moonlight. His eyes gleam with the untamed animalistic instinct, driven to madness by pleasure.

"Sephiroth," You gasp, pulling on his hair and he responds with a passionate and demanding kiss, his warm lips pressing fervently against yours. His cock twitches and his rhythm falters upon hearing his name escape your lips. The sight of tears streaming from your eyes etched itself into his memory and pushed him closer to the edge. And when your pussy tightens around him he yields, fully immersing himself.

Your arms encircle his neck as you throw your head back onto the pillow heaving for air because damn, he was so ravenous that his hunger permeated the intensity of his movements. Your willpower is reduced to nothing, overridden by the pleasure coursing through your body, igniting an intense passion that erases any hint of the dignity you present to the outside world. Your lips seek his and he chuckles at your neediness, sliding his hand beneath your back to lift your body from the bed and press against him. Sephiroth adjusts your position, ensuring your head falls back onto the pillow more comfortably. His hand then trails down to where your bodies are entwined and his fingers tease your clit, causing you to clench the sheets, but when you can't grasp them your nails dig into your palm.

Sephiroth locks eyes with you as he brings his fingers to his lips and licks them clean, "You taste like the sweetest sin," He murmurs, his voice a low seductive timbre.

"Well, aren't you the poetic one in the throes of passion?"

"Only for you." He smirks, his lips tracing a path down your neck until he reaches your nipple. He licks all around the nub before taking it into his mouth, sucking gently and eliciting a high-pitched whine from you. Upon withdrawing, a string of saliva links his mouth to your nipple, and he gives it one more gentle peck. Desperate for more, with tension coiling in the depths of your stomach and sensing Sephiroth's unwillingness to move, relishing in watching you squirm for release, you take matters into your own hands. With all your strength, you wrap your legs around his waist and pull him down, his cock burying a little deeper. Despite your strength typically being unable to keep up with his, Sephiroth had foreseen the move and felt obliged to allow it. A light chuckle escapes him as he supports his weight with one forearm resting on the bed beside your head, while his other hand grips your waist, his hair draping to the side.

"Let me take control."

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because, my love," He whispers against your lips. "I want to watch you unravel beneath me"

You can't help but smile at his response, the intensity of his gaze stirring a delightful anticipation. "Fair enough," You concede, surrendering to the allure of the moment but just when he least expects it, you deftly shift positions, pushing him onto his back as you hover above him, and the training you've undergone finally proves its worth in this unexpected moment of vulnerability. Your hands find purchase on his shoulders, your gaze admiring the sight of his sculpted body; broad shoulders lead to well-defined arms, each muscle carved with precision; collarbones, subtly tracing delicate lines that add an elegant touch to the powerful physique, imparting a visual symphony of strength and grace. Without warning, you roll your hips against him. Sephiroth's eyes widen ever so slightly as your mouth descends upon his in a swift, blurry motion. He reacts on instinct. Your lips smack, saliva exchanging and you rub yourself against him.

The feeling of your body above him and your focused expression with furrowed brows and pursed lips distracts him to the point that he doesn't notice how his groans gradually shift into moans. His grip on your hip tightens and with his permission, you've assumed control, and your relentless consistency is anything but gentle. The way you continuously bounce on him in search of release, yet denying both of you the satisfaction, drives him to insanity.

As you feel his cock reach its deepest point within you, it's not you who moans and flinches, but Sephiroth. The frown of his brows and the tight closure of his eyes catch you off guard. The temptation to tease him lingers, but the moment evades you as he seizes you and forcefully returns you to the position he adores the most – on your back beneath him. Grasping your wrists with one hand, he pins them above your head and you witness the breathless state you've induced in him and you're thrilled, raising your head to plant an innocent kiss on his neck.

"You've had your fun," He says unamused.

"Not nearly enough, but yes"

"You'll have to wait your turn, little one"

You gently tuck strands of his hair behind his ear. "I'm not known for my patience, Sephiroth."

"Well, consider it a test of your endurance."

# 𝖬𝖠𝖣𝖠𝖱𝖠 𝖴𝖢𝖧𝖨𝖧𝖠

Your hands frantically seek something to grasp onto amidst the overwhelming surge of emotions that race up your spine and cloud your thoughts. Every fibre of your being ignites with heat as his skilled fingers withdraw and playfully trace over your pussy, gathering your cum on his fingertips and tracing it sensually across your folds, crafting an intimate tableau of his desire. The gleam in his eyes becomes more pronounced as he witnesses your reaction, fueling a desire within him to elicit more of such responses from you.

"Please, I can't" You moan, your body pleading for a moment of respite, silently urging him to ease the pace but Madara remains merciless and unyielding as his finger traces circles around your entrance before plunging back in, knuckle-deep with unwavering determination. The explicit wet squelching noises intensify as his fingers penetrate and withdraw, incessantly pushing you to the brink. Your quivering lip finds solace against his shoulder, your palms pressing against the expanse of his back muscles as your toes curl in search of an anchor amidst the overwhelming sensations. Madara deeply absorbs the vision of your blissful countenance – your perfect lips parting for him, echoing his name, accompanied by gentle pants and erratic heartbeats. Your back arches into his touch, further fueling the intensity of the moment. As your clit is captured between his thumb and index finger, the applied pressure intensifies and you reach your climax. Your voice ascends to new heights, echoing his name as you reach the peak of pleasure for the third time.

Madara withdraws his fingers as your cum releases. He gazes in amazement, wordlessly guiding his fingers to your lips and gently yet assertively urging them inside. His thumb presses against your tongue and he buries his head into your chest, his mouth attaching to your breasts. His heated tongue teases your erect nipple, playfully flicking against it. Your fingers weave into his dishevelled black locks, gripping his skull firmly as your head tilts back against the solid ground. He then withdraws his fingers from your mouth and showers the nipple untouched by his mouth in attention. The pleasure sails through your veins like a speed boat across an ocean, leaving you unable to articulate the sensations he evokes.

With a soft 'pop', his mouth disengages, signalling a pause, yet it's far from the conclusion as you catch sight of his head descending to where a new ache has emerged through blurry eyes. His tongue plunges deeply into your core, and you gasp, struggling for breath as his hand secures your waist, anchoring you in place. The knot of your impending orgasm tightens in anticipation.

"Madara" You implore, needing him to pause, to grant you a moment to catch your breath. But the intensity of his desire knows no bounds, and he continues his sensual exploration, driven by a hunger that matches his unrivalled pride as an Uchiha.

"Please, just a moment"

"You ask too much of me, my dear" He groans, pulling back just enough to utter the words, completely intoxicated by the flavour of you. He lifts your leg over his shoulder and feels as it shakes when his mouth moulds around your clit and he sucks hard.

That alone is enough to make your orgasm reach its peak. And you cum, faster than you've ever done before.

Madara's head emerges from between your legs, his mouth coated in your release. His lids briefly shut, as if collecting himself. Despite the proximity where no air manages to breathe its way between your chests, you cradle Madara's face, drawing him up to meet your lips. You savour the taste of yourself on him but focus more on the love you long to exchange with him.

Lying beneath the night sky embraced by a celestial canopy of stars, You fixate your gaze solely on him, captivated by the affection in his eyes as he gazes down at you. The back of his hand gently brushes against your flushed cheeks, evoking a sense of warmth as you strive to steady your breath.

"You have the most captivating eyes,"

"Thank you," You reply but your voice is barely audible and soon the resonance of his hearty chuckle fills your ears, reverberating as his chest rises and falls, and his eyes crinkle with amusement. In one seamless motion, he effortlessly lifts you into his arms and swaps positions, settling on his back with you nestled against his chest. His warmth replaces the firmness of the ground beneath you and he reaches out for his discarded kimono to drape over your naked body.

"Rest, my dear. The night stretches on, and we will continue once you've caught your breath,"

[dilemmaontwolegs]

just gonna put this here while its fresh in my mind but since lando has been wildin and wont stfu about OF... what if reader does OF 😏 faceless and lando makes a cameo once in a while😵‍💫😵‍💫 OKAY BYE WHY IS HE LIKE THIS LATELY

Your Biggest Fan || Ln4

Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, masturbating, only fans WC: 1.3k

One || Two || SMAU || Three

You were a solo act, that was your choice. Everyone who subscribed to your account knew the deal despite offers from some very big names in the industry - you were happy on your own - you couldn’t risk getting caught. Your parents would surely disown you, but you liked the danger that came with your side hustle. 

You could still remember the day he subscribed, top tier no less. The username was generic and he kept his camera turned off but that wasn’t unusual - you preferred to keep your face hidden too. A selection of toys lay across your bed and he hummed indecisively while he internally debated which one to watch you play with this time.

“If I was there, I know what I would do,” he mused, his voice dropping in a way that had your stomach flipping.

You settled amongst the pile of pillows surrounding you, keeping your face above the view of the camera, and teased your nipples while you patiently waited for his choice. “Yeah, what would you do to me?”

Your touch ran further down your body and you spread your legs for him. His breathing changed to slower, deeper intakes and you wished he had his camera on so you could see the effect you had on him. 

“Fuck, I would fill you so good, babygirl,” he groaned. “I would make you cum harder than any of those toys can. You don’t even have one big enough to stretch you like I could.”

Your pussy clenched at the threat and you grabbed the biggest dildo from the pile, running the tip through your slit. You moaned as you pressed it to your entrance and it slowly slid home, filling you completely as you pumped it all the way to the base. “This one stretches me pretty good, big boy.”

“Not as good as I could.”

“Brave words for someone who can’t prove it,” you dared. 

There was some shuffling before his camera lit up and half of your screen filled with a toned stomach, muscled thighs and a dick that put your toy to shame. You sat up straighter, wanting a closer look and salivated at the way he stroked himself, his thumb and fingers not even touching because of the girth.

“Fuck me,” you exhaled longingly.

“Don’t tempt me, babygirl.” He dragged his thumb through the bead of precum and his hand disappeared from view as he licked it clean, something you were completely jealous of. “Now turn around, I want to see you fuck yourself and pretend it’s me.”

You did as you were told, more than eager now that you had the image to use. You got on your hands and knees, reaching between your legs to pump the dildo in time to his strokes, moaning in unison at the sight. Wanting to give him the best show, you shimmied back so he had the best view of the silicone cock stretching your pussy.

“That’s it, come to daddy.” His filthy words surrounded you and your back arched as you fucked yourself for him. You were nearing your orgasm and the sight of his cum spilling over his fist and abs threw you into oblivion. His urging kept you going, even when your orgasm tried to squeeze the toy from your pussy, you kept stuffing it back in until the pressure grew too much and you fell panting to the bed, the blanket wet from the fluid that had gushed from you.

“Holy shit, babygirl, that was fucking amazing,” he praised as you struggled to catch your breath. “Fuck, I have to go. Same time next week?”

“Only if you have your camera on again, big boy,” you half joked, half wishing he would.

“For you, babygirl, of course,” he chuckled and wiped up his mess with a green and white shirt you were sure you had seen the logo for before. “I’m your biggest fan, I would do anything you said.”

“I’ll have to remember that, big boy. See you next week.”

You ended the feed and closed the site down for the night before cleaning up the toys and changing your bed sheets. You had never squirted like you had with L404 and you briefly wondered if you should invest in some waterproof bedding. 

It was late by the time you had showered and settled back into the fresh sheets but you weren’t able to sleep. With nothing better to do, you logged into Twitch and browsed the Just Chatting category for some white noise, eventually coming across a streamer with nearly 20k fellow viewers.

You were a little disappointed to see it wasn’t Just Chatting but playing Fortnite and you nearly left the stream. You weren’t interested in trying to sleep to the sound of gunfire. Before you could exit, you heard the voice. It was one you were intimate with, one that sent goosebumps prickling over your skin.

“Come to daddy,” Lando, that was his name, said. He laughed with his friends he was playing the game with and they joked while oblivious to the epiphany you were having. “Ohhh, doggy man.”

The handsome man in the tiny square of your screen was L404, your biggest fan. 

Hey big boy, you sent to the chat and watched it get swamped by the hundreds of other comments. 

“Ha, mate, someone called you big boy.”

Lando’s head snapped away from the game and he was quickly shot but he didn’t care as he scrolled through the chat to find your username. It was different enough that it wouldn’t be linked to your Only Fans but had enough similarities that he recognised the name. “Shit, I gotta go. Something’s come up.”

He logged off without a goodbye and the comments blew out with disappointment and questions.

Suddenly, your email pinged with a new message: L404 was requesting another private chat. 

“Hey big boy,” you answered as you sat up in bed, grateful you were wearing a cute lace babydoll nightie. “Back so soon?”

His camera was off but now that you had seen his face you could only imagine the confusion on it.  “Uh, did you…what you saw…did you…” 

You giggled at the loss of his confidence, such a stark change from how he was an hour ago. “You’ll have to finish your question for me to answer, Lando.”

“Fuck.” His camera came on and you had a much larger picture of him. He wasn’t just handsome, he was gorgeous. You desperately wanted to run your hands through his curls and tug on them, maybe while they were between your legs. “No one can know, please, it will ruin my career.”

Taking a deep breath, you tipped the camera back and looked him in the eyes. Realisation dawned on his face and his lips parted in shock. “Guess we both know each other’s secret now.”

“You…you’re…”

“Yup, that’s me.” Like most rich families, your parents had moved to Monaco for the tax haven it provided and you had fallen in love with the province too, opting to buy your own place in the city when you left home.

“So…” You bit your lip as the idea danced on your tongue and Lando remained in a state of shock. “I remember someone threatening to stretch a certain part of me…”

Lando swallowed deeply before licking his dry lips. “On camera?”

It was your turn to think before nodding. “If you’re up for it, I can make an exception to the rule. We might need to practice a few times, you know, compatibility wise.”

He nodded, the thought growing more and more interesting and he palmed his erection beneath the desk. “Practice sounds good. Tonight?”

The idea of sleep was long gone and your nipples were clearly visible through the lace, the stiff peaks begging for attention. “Come on then, big boy,” you teased as you sent him your address. “I’ll see you soon.”

Click here for part two.

[atlabeth]

take my breath away

pairing: spencer reid x reader

summary: you help spencer train for his fitness exam. he kind of just wants to kiss you.

a/n: some fluff (and something short) after i broke my own heart (and my brain) in my last hotch fic! i’m truly in my criminal minds era. enjoy

wc: 1.3k

warning(s): reader is a runner so im sorry to my unathletic friends. but this is all fluff

“Spence,” you said, unable to bite back your smile, “how are you this bad at running?” 

“I’m—” he held up a finger as he caught his breath and shook his head. “I’m not bad at running. My form… is perfect.” 

“We barely made it a mile in,” you said, and you chuckled as he keeled over, his hands on his knees. “It can’t be that perfect.” 

“It is,” he insisted, on the edge of wheezing. “I’m just unathletic.” 

“You never did sports as a kid?” 

“I graduated high school at twelve,” Spencer breathed. “I was too busy studying. Reading. Doing anything other than sports.” He looked at you and shook his head. “And I’m not crazy like you.” 

Your smile only grew. “You should put your hands over your head. It helps get more air in.” 

“That’s actually a rumor.” He shook his head again. “When you raise your arms, muscles that contribute… to the bucket handle movement of your ribs—” He heaved a sigh, his brows furrowing, and again, you held back a smile. You were sure this was one of his only weaknesses. “—they’re not able to function properly.” 

“Alright, genius,” you said, mockingly but with love. “Recover however you like. You clearly need it.” 

Spencer pouted as he straightened up, his whole face contorted in discomfort. When your boyfriend asked you to help him train for his upcoming fitness test, you didn’t think much of it—you got a full ride through college because of track, and you keep healthy with morning runs, so you were happy to help. 

You’d thought about straight up offering a myriad of times—mostly after bearing witness to his attempts at running in the field. One time, the two of you were paired up to do some interviews, and it ended in a chase. By the time Spencer caught up, nearly dying on the sidewalk, you already had the unsub subdued and cuffed. 

(It took him a while to live that down with Morgan.)

Spencer was gifted at other things, sure—not just everyone is a classified genius with an eidetic memory, and he’s the youngest recruit in history—and you loved him more than anything. But you couldn’t not make fun of him, just a little bit. 

His face was still red, his glasses fogging up a bit from the humidity, and his hair was a mess, so you moved closer in order to brush the stray strands out of his face. 

“Running isn’t my thing,” he said. “Well— fitness isn’t my thing. I’ve got everything else covered.” 

“Oh yeah?” You started smoothing back the strands of his hair, and you offered a crooked smile. “Then why are we out here trying to improve your mile time?” 

“Because it would be nice if Gideon doesn’t have to get all my fitness stuff waived again, and if I want that, I need the help.” His eyes didn’t leave yours, and once you finished, your hands lingered on his cheeks. You nudged his glasses back up to their spot. “And I think I’d run a marathon and die trying if it meant I got to spend more time with you.” 

Your eyebrows rose. “If you want to run a marathon, I could probably get you there. It would take a lot of time together, though.” 

“Please, no,” Spencer breathed. “Just the time together part.” 

You grinned, and you patted him on the cheek before you pulled away. “Running is good for the soul. Why do you think I’m so happy all the time?” 

“Well, this morning you said you were happy because of me,” he said. “Yesterday, it was because we had our first case-free weekend in two months. The other day—” 

“That coffee I had?” you interrupted. 

He nodded. “How’d you know?” 

“Because you made it for me,” you said, “and I love it when you do that.” 

Spencer shrugged. “You do it all the time for me. It’s only fair.” 

“But that’s proof,” you said. “Running does make you happy.” 

“Running does release endorphins, but anyone who likes it is crazy,” he repeated. 

“That doesn’t sound scientifically backed.” 

“The way I feel right now beats science,” Spencer huffed. “And you’re not happy all the time. You frowned 23 times while writing up your last report.” 

You raised your eyebrows. “You were watching me? And counting?” 

He shrugged. “You’re nice to watch.” 

“Very smooth, Dr. Reid,” you said cloyingly. “But flattery won’t get you out of this.” 

“I’m not trying to get out of anything!” he defended. You stared at him, and he held up his hands. “Okay— only halfway. But you are nice to watch. That’s why I’m still here.”

“If you’re watching me while we run, that might be why you’re doing so badly,” you said, amused. 

“No—I think it’s the only thing keeping me going.”

“You don’t really look like you’re still going,” you said wryly. “You should be good at this. You’ve got long legs.” 

Spencer shook his head as he screwed his eyes shut. He let out one last breathy sigh, and you hoped he’d finally recovered. “Also largely a rumor. It’s more about leg strength compared to bodyweight—long legs help with lengthy strides, but you need to generate enough torque to move faster than with shorter legs.” 

You smiled. “You’ve still got facts? Even while you’re dying?” 

“Mostly because Elle’s said it before too. She says I look like a baby giraffe learning how to walk when I run.” Spencer shook his head again. “I think the only thing my height is good for is getting things off of shelves.” 

For once, you tried to reign in your joking. “Is there anything I can do to help? I don’t want this whole thing to be miserable for you. Running should be fun.” 

“We can stop doing this?” he suggested. “I can let go of what’s left of my pride, get all my fitness stuff waived again, and go back to figuring out cases in an air conditioned conference room?” 

You smiled, and you moved closer. “How about this?” 

Spencer opened his mouth to say something, but you pulled him in for a kiss by the front of his shirt, effectively cutting him off. He hesitated for less than a split second, but his hands fell to your waist as he brought you in closer. 

When you let go and moved away, he still had them there, and he was smiling like an idiot. 

“Does that help?” you asked innocently, tilting your head. 

“Yeah,” Spencer said, nodding rapidly. “Uh— yeah. I actually think I could go for another mile now.” 

You couldn’t help but laugh as you ruffled his hair, messing up your earlier work. “I’d love to test that, pretty boy, but I don’t think you can make it another mile.” 

Spencer shook his head. “If you keep kissing me like that, I think I can make it through that marathon you mentioned.”  

“Sure I don’t take your breath away too badly?” you teased. 

“I have some facts for that, but I don’t think they apply.” His lips curved up, and the redness from exertion mixed with his steadily rising blush. “Because you, uh— you did take my breath away the first time I saw you.” 

“I should start calling you loverboy with material like that,” you mused. “Morgan’s annoyed that I took pretty boy from him.” 

Spencer grimaced. “Just thinking of Morgan seeing me like this makes me want to get back at it. I can’t deal with any more of his teasing.” 

“But my teasing’s okay?” 

He frowned. “Of course. It— it’s kind of why I fell for you.” 

“Ah,” you nodded. “That’s why you’re still at this. You don’t like things being handed to you.” 

His cheeks darkened again, and you laughed as you leaned in to peck him on the lips one more time. 

“Alright, loverboy,” you said. “Ready to get back at it?” 

“No,” he said affirmatively. “But I don’t really have a choice, do I?” 

“Not if you want to pass,” you said wryly, and you gestured back at the trail with your head. “But you know what they say—one step at a time.” 

Spencer grumbled, and he shook his arms out again. “Fine. As long as those steps are with you.” 

You smiled. “I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.” 

[rubyreduji]

beach boobs babes — kmg

summary: mingyu goes to the beach to cool down, but things only heat up

tags: smut (minors dni!), chubby!big-boobed!reader warnings: sexual content, semi-public sex, spit used as lube, praise, tit fuck, oral (m. rec), cum eating, tit sucking, fingering, one mention of being "too heavy" wc: 1.3k an: this is def inspired by that video of ross lynch at the beach where you can see his dick print ANYWAYS

Part Two

Mingyu wouldn't consider himself a pervert, he may be rethinking that now though.

At the beginning of the day he thought that a beach day would be the perfect way to cool down from the scouring heat of the Korean summers, but now that he's actually here he feels nothing but heat creeping up the back of his neck, covering him in a whole body flush from his cheeks all the way down to his dick.

Ever since he laid eyes on you this morning he's been doing his best to tamper down his growing hard on. It doesn't help that his swim trunks are short and tight and perfectly define his package even when he's not have perverse thoughts.

In his defense, he wasn't expecting for you to show up like that, with everything out on display for his viewing pleasure. Your soft looking stomach and your full round breasts and your thick thighs all wrapped up in a bikini that doesn't do much to stop Mingyu's imagination from wandering away.

Your bikini is cute, a little yellow set with white flowers patterned over it, strings tied together to hold it in place. Mingyu would kill to pull those strings, releasing the knot and subsequently your fat tits.

There's not much that Mingyu wouldn't do to see your full bare body in front of him, served to him like a starving wolf being fed a steak. Mingyu knows he should have shame for his thoughts, but he can't bring himself to care when you look so fucking good.

You're technically Joshua's friend. While you get along well with the others, it's Joshua who you're always hanging around. It makes Mingyu a bit jealous to see the way you're so clingy to the older boy. He's also a bit thankful for it though, because if not then you wouldn't be here now, at the beach with the group.

Mingyu stares intently at the way Joshua squirts sunscreen all over your back. The creamy, white ropes hitting the bare skin of your back. He can't peel his eyes away as Joshua's large hands cover your back, spreading the sunscreen all over and working it into your skin. Mingyu desperately wishes he was in Joshua's place, his hands roaming across your skin, the soft rolls of your back under his palms.

Mingyu knows that everyone can see his hard-on through his swimtrunks but he can't help it. You look so pretty with the sun beaming down on your smiling face. Mingyu can't take it anymore and he quickly heads to the shore, hoping a swim will help him calm down.

It does work for a while, the cold water shocks him a bit and the swimming helps him release some pent up energy, but it quickly all goes to waste when he climbs out and gets another sight of you. You're standing next to Joshua, eating a piece of watermelon and just the idea of you and food gets Mingyu going, but then you take a bite and the juice of the watermelon drips down your chin and falls right onto your chest, sliding further down right into the valley of your breasts. Mingyu groans, his dick stirring at the idea of him pressing his tongue to your skin, lapping up at the sweet juices with your beautiful, full tits squishing either side of his head.

Mingyu realizes he really has to stop staring because you've seemed to notice him and the prominent strain of his swim trunks. Your eyes trail down his figure, lingering on his crotch, before looking up to meet his eyes. Mingyu doesn't give you time to even send him an expression before he's quickly turning and heading to one of the changing huts.

He's not quite sure what the laws are on jacking off in a changing room on a public beach is, but he also can't really put much thought into it when his dick is actually starting to hurt. The only thing his mind can focus on is the image of your soft curves and suffocating in your cleavage.

A deep groan leaves Mingyu's throat when he finally pushes his trunks down, letting his cock pop free. He doesn't waste time spitting in his palm before grabbing his length and starting to pump it. He leans back against the wall as he closes his eyes, fucking his fist and imagining it's your pussy.

He's so lost in thought he nearly misses the sound of the changing room door opening but when he opens his eyes he jumps, trying to cover up his leaking cock. In his haste he must have forgot to lock the door. It takes him a few more seconds to process who exactly is standing in front of him.

You look so innocent, with your big eyes and soft features, staring at Mingyu curiously. It would almost be enough to make Mingyu feel some kind of shame, but then his eyes trail down your figure and his body is flooded with the pains of lust once again. Your swimsuit is just so tiny on you, the strings digging into your flesh, your tummy pudging up over your waistband. He can't even look at your tits without his cock twitching in his hand, just barely hidden from your gaze. They way they spill out of the fabric, pushed together to create the most delicious cleavage that jiggles anytime you move.

"I-I'm sorry!" You exclaim, but you still don't tear your eyes away from Mingyu. "You looked a bit uhm...flushed earlier, so I wanted to check in on you. I can see why now."

Something snaps in Mingyu and he's suddenly removing his hands to let his dick hang free, in full sight for you. "Don't give me that bullshit, baby. I know you saw it. It's kinda hard not to." Mingyu wraps his hand around his cock, yanking at his length a few times. "I mean, look how big it is. All hard just from you."

"F-from me?" You squeak.

"Who else, gorgeous? I mean look at you, in that skimpy ass little bikini, teasing everyone on this damn beach," Mingyu growls.

"I-I didn't-"

"God baby, doesn't matter what you meant to do. Truth is it's taking all of my resolve not to jump you right here." Mingyu's hand speeds up, his cock leaking pre-cum all over his fingers.

"Well then, I should help you, right?" Your words come out slowly and Mingyu swears he has no clue how you can still sound so innocent while implying something so dirty.

Before Mingyu can react you're kneeling down in front of Mingyu, staring up at him. You gently bring your hands up to pull the strings of your bikini top loose, letting the fabric fall off your body and reveal your tits. Now without the support of the fabric they droop down, the weight of them too much to defy gravity. Your areolas are large and round like a target for Mingyu's mouth.

You don't allow Mingyu to put his mouth on you though. Instead you lean foward and push your tits around Mingyu's cock, eveloping his length in the warmth of your large, soft cleavage. Mingyu audibly whines at the feeling and he can't even be embarassed because he's in absolute heaven right now.

You slowly start to move your tits around his cock, and Mingyu nearly cums on you right then when you let your saliva dripple down your chin and onto his tip. The mix of his pre-cum and your spit allows you to glide his cock between your breasts easily, rubbing up against his length in a way that makes Mingyu's head go completely blank.

"F-fuck," Mingyu whines, "you look so good right now baby. My big cock pushed between your fat tits."

Mingyu starts to rut his hips into the valley of your chest, helping you jack him off. Mingyu knows he's not going to last long when you lean down to start suckling on the head of his cock. You suck and kitten lick at it, lapping up all of the pre-cum drooling out of his slit.

"Holy shit, baby, fuck," Mingyu babbles. He knew he needed this, but he completely underestimated how good it would feel. Your skin is warm against his cock and the plump fat of your chest cushions his length nicely.

"C'mon Gyu," you mutter in between lapping at the tip, "cum all over my chest. I know you want to. I see the way you stare at me. Cum on my tits."

With a groan Mingyu's hips stutter and he's painting your chest white with his spunk. Some of it sprays up onto your face and the sight of you cover in his cum is enough to send Mingyu's mind reeling.

Mingyu nearly falls over when you bring your finger to your chest, scooping up the mess and bringing it to your mouth. You suck on your fingers, staring directly at Mingyu as you do. Mingyu's cock twitches despite having just nutted.

You whine and shift a bit where you're kneeling. "Mingyu," you mumble, "I'm so wet now."

Holy shit.

Mingyu quickly moves to sit on the chair in changing hut. You stand and make your way over to him. You look nervous for a second but Mingyu grabs you, pulling you into his lap.

"M-mingyu! I'm too heavy!"

"Fuck baby, no you're not. You feel so good in my lap," Mingyu mutters, his mouth too busy kissing at your bare skin. His hands roam over your stomach, soaking up every bit of sweet chub he can.

You whimper under his touch, squirming in his lap a bit. Mingyu stares at you intently as he brings his head down, raising one of your boobs to meet his mouth. He wraps his lips around your tit, sucking on it hard. He swirls his tongue around your nipple and relishes in the reaction he gets out of you.

"G-gyu, please," you beg.

Normally Mingyu would respond, "Please what baby?" but he doesn't dare take his mouth off of you. Instead Mingyu lifts you up, turning around so this time he's on his knees while you sit in the chair.

You seem a bit shocked Mingyu could lift you, but you can't focus too much on that when Mingyu's fingers are playing with the strings of your bikini bottom. When Mingyu tugs at it, it comes undone, your bottoms falling against the chair away from your body.

A soft sigh leaves your mouth when Mingyu pushes his fingertips up against your clit. He rubs there for a moment before exploring further. His fingers push your chubby folds apart, revealing your hot, slick cunt. As much as Mingyu wants to drag this out he can't help himself from sinking his fingers into your pussy.

You wrap your arms around Mingyu's head, pushing his face even farther into your chest. Mingyu thinks he could die like this happy, suffocating between your tits, your velvety walls wrapped around his fingers.

Mingyu is completely content to stay like this, but then you start to wiggle your hips and Mingyu realizes you're basically cock warming his fingers. He starts to move his digits in you, brushing up against your walls. When he hits a particularlly soft spot and he hears you gasp, he knows he's hit your sweet spot.

Your jucies are running down his hand as he continues to jut his fingertips up into the same spot, his thumb rubbing at your clit as he does. Up above, his mouth is still working diligently at sucking at your tits, licking and nipping where he can.

"M-ming-gyu," you stutter out, your voice high pitched and tense, "so close. Please."

Finally, Mingyu pops his mouth off of your tits. "Fuck, c'mon baby. Cum for me. I know you can, pretty girl."

His thumb speeds up, pressing against your clit harder. Your hips buck up against his hand before your thighs are clenching and you're shaking. You let out the prettiest mewls as you reach your high, your head thrown back against the wall.

"Good girl, you look so pretty like this. Absolutely stunning," Mingyu tells you, and he means it. He doesn't think he's ever seen something so breath taking before.

When you've calmed down Mingyu slowly pulls his fingers out from you and pops them into his mouth, licking your arousal off of them. You taste even better than you look and Mingyu hopes that eventually he'll have the opprotunity to be squished between your thighs. He's sure it will be just as magical as being squished between your breasts.

Mingyu helps you tie your bikini back on and when the pieces are in place you frown at the marks Mingyu left all over your chest.

"Mingyu!" You whine.

"I'm sorry baby," Mingyu mumbles, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. "I couldn't help it."

"Yeah, but now I'll have to explain to Joshua why I look like a vaccum attacked me!" You exclaim and Mingyu suddenly remembers you two came to the beach with a group.

Mingyu groans. He's never going to hear the end of the teasing. Oh well, it was totally worth it.

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[catiuskaa]

*cough cough* no, me kisses.

SUMMARY: he may have lost his opportunity to ask you to become official, but boyfriend or not, there’s only one thing Hannie wants needs: your kisses. All over his face. Right now.

WC: exactly 1.3k baby!

CW: it’s too fluff!! ahhh!! (scared) lol, mentions of the usual sick thingies like headaches and mucus (ew!), mentions of lipstick stains (because YES), use of petnames.

REQUESTED! by pookie dookie @4ln-stay8 right here. I owed you one for reading my angsty fics, so I gave my best with this one. tysm for your support, my love! <3

A/N: inspired on the jeekies bc this singlehandedly changed my brain chemistry (melts n giggles)

[☆★🧣★☆]

Jisung wanted to groan.

Meanwhile, you only wanted to giggle and take millions of pictures of him.

What for? Well, first of all, little Hannie was cutely hiding under his duvet.

Only Jisung’s big boba eyes blinked repeatedly as he sniffed, not because he was crying, but because the poor little thing couldn’t even smell anything. He kept the half down of his face under the blankets of his bed, as he surely knew he was blushing due to you being in his room.

He hadn’t been expecting you, and he wanted to groan and put on a tantrum —or however you use that word in a sentence— because you had to be there at that moment.

“Aw, Sunggie,” you melted at the sight of him, holding back the need to coo and pet him and treat him the small and cute hamster he so was. “Lix called,” you clarified with a toothy grin. “He said you were sick, and buzzed me in before he left.”

Jisung made a note to himself to remember to tickle Felix to death for that.

There was one thing he wanted, and while it was you the one who could give it to him, he felt quite shy from asking, as far as refraining from doing so just yet.

Because it was not like you two were dating officially. Yes, the big, fat crush he had on you was as obvious as shit, to put it in elegant words, but he hadn’t asked you yet.

He was going to ask you, but he got sick.

And that one thing he wanted from you was your sweet pouty lips peppering kisses all over his face.

You sat next to him, and sheepishly shook your head. “Let me tidy up this place for you and bring you some medicine and more tissues, yeah?”

Your voice felt soothing, he wanted to use it as a blanket and stay wrapped in it for the rest of the week.

His heart sent more blood to his cheeks. As if there wasn’t enough, he thought with a huff, big eyes watching your movements as you picked a plate that had been left there since the night before and started picking up the used tissues from the floor.

“…hi…” Jisung mumbled, his voice hoarse and his throat dry.

Was he sick? Sure. I mean, his head hurt, his eyelids felt heavy, his nose was runny and he had surely filled the floor of his room and a decent part of his bed with used tissues.

But despite all that, the thing he wanted the most was to cuddle you to his hearts content.

“Hi, gorgeous,” you snickered softly, and he couldn’t help but smile with you. “Want some water too?”

He coughed in response, and you giggled. He cracked his knuckles underneath the bed sheet, his hands tingling, wanting to take you by your shoulders and hug you like a boa constrictor.

“Guess we have to cancel for tonight,” you mumbled with a small smile, your hand tenderly stroking his hair away from his forehead. “I’ll go leave my coat and bag in the living room and I’ll come back, yeah?”

He pouted without realizing. “Mmhhh…” he hummed with a small frown, almost like a whine.

You were about to mumble a soft ‘what’s wrong?’ before he shoved the covers away from his face as he gingerly raised his hand to grab your wrist and settled your palm back on his forehead. He sighed in small relief, melting into the coldness that lingered in you from being outside.

“Headache?” You said almost in a whisper, hearing the butterflies’ wings going crazy in your stomach.

He nodded. If he had been a cat, he would be purring, even if your hand had already turned warm against his skin.

“C’mon, Jisung-a,” your voice felt even softer than before. “I’ll come back before you know it.”

He sniffed. “…you will…?”

Your heart crushed, unable to handle how cute Han looked. It was too much, so much that even the butterflies in your stomach started to have their own butterflies in their stomachs.

And with a smile, you moved your hand to his cheek and planted a shy tender kiss on his forehead.

“I will. Pinky promise.” You chuckled softly, a blush slowly creeping up to your cheeks.

His eyes widened, and his heart skipped a beat.

Oh, no. Now he knew what one of your small kisses felt like.

Now you couldn’t leave. Not before… oh.

He grinned slyly, making you raise your eyebrows, wondering what could he be thinking in that cute little head of his.

“…we’ll… make a deal…” he stated as firmly as he could.

You shrugged lightly, secretly enjoying the faint pink hue of your lipstick that had stained his forehead.

“Sure, Hannie.” Your smile only made the fact that you’d leave for, like, ten minutes —or God, maybe even more— feel a lot worse.

“I… want… more of those…” he blushed deeply.

“More of those?”

He took your hand and covered his eyes with it.

“I want more kisses.” He sniffed again.

Your mouth quickly formed the shape of an ‘o’, as your blush quickly turned a deeper shade of red, as if to compete against his.

You giggled, moving your hand from his face.

“You want my kisses, jagi?” You teased with a smirk.

He felt his heart going crazy in him, a tight feeling in his chest that turned his ears red.

“Aww, but aren’t you too sick for that?”

Oh, no.

You weren’t just going to give him a small kiss and then not continue all morning and all evening… right?

That couldn’t be allowed. Was it? He tsked at the thought. He had to make sure it wasn’t.

He coughed, pouting.

“No.” He coughed again. “Me. Kisses.” He sniffed. “Now.”

You laughed loudly, a sort of laugh that went right in Han’s little heart and filled it up with energy. He didn’t feel that gloomy sensation that being sick could cast over someone.

Instead, he squinted at you playfully.

“You have ten minutes, missy.” He said, already looking much better, emotionally wise at least. “Or else.”

You giggled, sheepishly pecking the corner of his lips.

"You can set up a timer, you cheeky idiot."

He moved his hand to his heart in an overly dramatic gesture that made you cackle, as he chuckled too, trying to ignore how fast his heartbeat felt under his hand.

Nine minutes and forty three seconds later —forty four, forty five...— you had settled a plastic bag next to his nightstand, had stolen a tissue box from the living room, and right now, you were smiling, walking one step in front of the other, carefully so to not spill over the soup you had made for him.

"It's amazing. You have to try it, I've outdone myself." You chuckled as he sat up on his bed, gingerly waiting. You left the tray on his crossed legs, moving his desk chair and nonchalantly taking a seat close to him.

"C'mon." You snickered. "Eat up." He finished it without a single complaint.

"Good boy." You teased, cackling loudly when you saw him blush.

"That's not fair," he mumbled with a pout.

"Scooch aside, Mr fairness."

You moved the pillows and laid next to him, shyly putting your arm below his neck, and then passed the other over his chest.

His face was practically in front of you.

"Hi." You grinned cheekily.

"...oh, h-hi." You giggled at his shyness. You hid the fact that you had reapplied your lipstick in the kitchen before bringing the soup, and started peppering soft kisses on his forehead, his cheeks, his nose, the corner of his mouth...

Oh, you were surely going to catch whatever he had.

[☆★🧣★☆]

~Kats, who doesn't understand why tumblr won't let her stack pictures when answering asks, reason why I post them separately, lol. Thanks for the request, gorgeous!

[murdrdocs]

REARRANGE YOUR WORLD. luke castellan

description. as the daughter of the god of dreams still honing her powers, you sometimes found yourself sucked into the dreams of others. tonight, like most nights, you find yourself in the dream of luke castellan. however, his dream seems to be more pleasant than it usually is

includes. SMUT 18+, fem!reader, she/her pronouns for r, consensual voyeurism (luke watches), dub con voyeurism (r watches luke watching…), subby!Luke, dom!reader (dream scape reader), real r and luke r just friends, cliffhanger don't be shocked; title from this must be my dream by the 1975

pt 2

wc. 1.3k+

a/n: the description and warnings makes it sound confusing but its not i swear.

Your dreamscape begins to morph. 

You’re barely allowed to mourn the disappearance of the world you love so much, soft grass that acts as a cushion beneath your lax body, the distant smell of salt water and the soft sound of cascading waves just a little ways away. Nobody else in the world is there with you, yet you don’t feel lonely one bit. 

And then, it’s ripped from under you and you find yourself in a bedroom instead. 

It’s large, warm as if there was previously a source of heat but you don’t find one. You exist solely among furniture, a grandiose bedroom suite, a four poster bed in the center, the shape of what looks to be a couch in the corner. But nothing else is as clear as the bed. 

You take a step closer, preparing for the piece of furniture to be the focus of the dream. 

There’s just a few moments before the subject appears where things start to change. The changes aren’t noticeable, and if you hadn’t been forced to exist in dreams for a while now you wouldn’t have recognized them. The way the air became more humid and a little stuffier. The smell of the air becomes more pungent with a light musk that reeks of human sweat. And then you can feel a presence even before it’s there. 

That’s when they appear. 

One figure sits at the edge of the bed on their haunches. From what you can tell, they’re masculine presenting, the expanse of their back toned and tanned, dotted with a few sparse moles. They’re wearing nothing but dark boxer briefs. 

The other figure sits towards the top of the bed. They’re lounging more so, wearing nothing but feminine undergarments. It takes you a while to notice who it is, and you spend the time analyzing their position. Leaned back on their elbows casually, legs bent and connected at the knee. They hold the position and air of a goddess, but it’s not until the dream clears you that you notice they aren’t a goddess. They’re a demigod. 

They’re you. 

Wearing a confident smile (bordering on a smirk) as well as she’s wearing that underwear set. 

Your eyebrows furrow, you take a step closer, trying to figure out who is having a dream about you. 

You step to the side of the bed and focus on the masculine figure. When your eyes land on Luke Castellan, things start to click into place. 

Usually, Luke’s dreams are nightmares. Many times have you been pulled from the serenity of your dreamscape into the tortuous lands that Luke’s mind produced. You’ve fought off monsters from the deepest pits of the underworld along Luke’s side, only to wake up in the morning bearing the mental scars and smiling in Luke’s face as if you were unaware of your presence within his mind. 

Your shoulders briefly start to tense as you prepare yourself for such. You wait, and wait. Anticipating the ground to open and swallow the scene. Or for a lightning bolt to strike down your surroundings. Or for something to come from somewhere to morph this brief serenity. 

But the nightmare never comes. 

Which leaves you to watch and see what will come. For better or for worse. 

A few moments go by and then Dream You is speaking. 

“Are you going to watch me, Lukey?” 

Your eyebrows raise at the nickname. It’s not one you haven’t called him before, but you usually say it in an egotistical tease, used mostly during intense moments like capture the flag or during training. 

Never with that tone of voice. 

Dream You speaks like a temptress. Her voice is smooth, teasing, and seductive. You don’t even know if your real life voice is capable of sounding like that. 

Luke nods, curly hair bouncing with the movement. 

“Yes.” He hesitates for a second before adding, “If you’ll let me.” 

Her grin grows and it’s not unlike the appearance of the cheshire cat. 

“Of course I’ll let you, Luke. I’m not cruel.” 

Dream You spreads her legs and the wet patch in the center of her panties is so vivid and emphasized. It’s only something that could exist within a dreamscape, a place where everything was emphasized. Desired or not. 

With the way Luke’s breath hitches, you’re sure the sight of Dream You’s arousal is heavily desired by him. 

His fingers twitch at his sides as if he wants to touch you. You notice Dream You’s eyes glancing down to his digits, but if she notices his eagerness she doesn’t say anything. 

She situates herself up against the headboard and uses her now freed hands to touch her body. One hand goes to her chest and the other goes between her legs. She closes her eyes, and begins to touch over her slit. 

“What do you say?” She asks Luke, her eyes still closed as she gets lost in the movements. 

Luke’s reply is nearly instant. 

“Thank you.” 

Dream You sighs, she hums dismissively, and then she hooks her thumbs under the elastic of her panties and slides them off of her legs. 

For some reason, your first instinct is to turn away. It’s only now that you’ve realized that Luke Castellan is having a wet dream about you, and you then realize that this is an intrusion. You shouldn’t be here and you should instead be working on finding your way out. 

There is no reason for you to stay. Surely, Luke won’t be in any danger in this dream. There'll be no variables for you to manipulate or no reason to wake Luke up before he goes too far under. 

But then again … it’s your body. You look at it every single day and that shouldn’t have to change solely because you’re viewing it through someone else’s perspective.  Intrigue preys on you, urging you to get closer and closer until you can feel the heat wafting off of their bodies. 

You take a step closer. 

Since Luke has never seen you naked (from what you know at least), there are a few things that are off. Before you can stop yourself, you’ve blinked and your dream body is as realistic as the one in reality. 

She swipes her fingers through her slit, dragging them up to her clit to rub a few circles, then she goes back down to slip her fingers into her entrance, two at a time. 

Her moan is instantly pornographic. She throws her head back, arches her back, spreads her legs even more as her fingers start to pump in and out of her cunt. The noises are loud and lewd and vivid. They should make you cringe, and if you weren’t starting to be affected by Luke’s dream then maybe you would have. 

Instead, you notice Luke beginning to palm the very prominent shape in his briefs and you can feel yourself falling under a spell of sorts. Everything becomes dreamier. You’re losing your self control. You’re having to fight the urge to kneel on that bed with Luke. 

You don’t know if you expected Luke to ask Dream You for permission to touch himself (the relationship between these two is almost as intriguing as their movements), but he doesn’t. He reaches into his briefs and pulls his cock out. 

You get a glimpse of his head—red and leaking and admittedly enticing—before your moral compass knocks back into place. 

You take one step back, and then another. There really is no reason for you to be in here. Luke is fine, he’s probably having the time of his life, and you no longer have to play the role of the worried friend. You can leave him to his dreamscape, and return to yours where you’ll either try to remember as many details as possible or try to forget it all. 

Either way, you shouldn’t be in here. 

You turn around and a door appears. 

Your foot lands in front of you, and you’re about to make your way to the exit until Luke speaks. 

“Stay.”

[munson-blurbs]

Headcanon: Eddie is a boob man. Best friend Eddie would one day notice your boobs (maybe in a bathing suit or a low cut top or something) and they become his new obsession hehe

Us? Projecting? Never.

Warnings: smut (18+ only, minors DNI), unwanted boners, semi-public masturbation (m), Eddie's a perv but he's not thrilled about it, Reader has boobs but no size is given (Eddie loves all boobs, let's be real)

WC: 1.3k

Divider credit to @saradika

Stupid D20. 

Stupid Dustin for tossing it so far across the table. 

Stupid low-cut shirt that exposes your chest when you lean over to collect the die, giving Eddie a stupid boner in the middle of Hellfire Club. 

“Hey, Ed!” Gareth calls out impatiently, snapping his fingers in front of the Dungeon Master’s face. “You wanna tell us if we defeated the demogorgon, or are you just gonna stare off into space?”

Eddie clears his throat. “Sorry. Right.” He tries his best to proceed with the campaign as usual, but all he can think about are your boobs and how grateful he is to be sitting down right now. 

When he adjourns the meeting, he’s still too hard to stand without someone noticing. “I’m just gonna, uh, hang back and brainstorm for a few,” he lies as smoothly as he can. 

“Can’t wait to see what sadistic shit you come up with,” Mike says. The rest of the guys slap him five in agreement as they clamor out the door. 

The only people left in the room are you and Eddie. 

Of course. 

“You don’t have to stick around, Sweetheart.” He tries not to sound too dismissive, plastering a smile on his face. 

“You’re my ride.”

Shit. “Oh. Right.” He hedges a nervous laugh. “I’ll be ready in five.”

You nod. “No worries. I’ll run to the girls’ room while I wait.” Before reaching the door, you notice that Lucas’s character sheet has fluttered to the ground. You reach down and scoop it up, revealing the tops of your bra-covered breasts. 

“Sinclair owes me,” you chirp, placing the paper back on the table, remaining utterly oblivious to the way Eddie is straining against his zipper once again. 

To Eddie’s credit, he tries to stop thinking about them. He really, truly does. 

You’re his best friend. He doesn’t want to constantly think about your boobs, or the way they’d feel pressed against his bare chest, or whether your nipples would harden if he sucked on them, or—

“Mr. Munson!” Ms. O’Donnell’s shrill screech snaps him out of his breast-induced stupor. “Is there a reason why you can’t be bothered to listen while I’m trying to teach?”

“N-No, ma’am.”

She huffs out an irritated sigh. “Since you must know everything already, why don’t you come up and solve the problem for us?” She taps the piece of chalk against the blackboard, leaving tiny white dots in its wake. 

Eddie shakes his head, feeling his cheeks burn red. Humiliating himself when he can’t figure out the value of x will be bad enough, but to fail while his sail is at half-mast? He’ll never recover. 

Fortunately, the old bird relents and turns back to the board to continue her lesson. 

Crisis averted. 

Except…is it?

Because the only thing—things, rather—on Eddie’s mind are your tits. And he isn’t supposed to be imagining himself caressing them while you’re bouncing on his cock, moaning his name, saying that only he can make you feel that good…

He’s racing out of his seat the moment the bell rings, making a mad dash for the Hellfire room, relieved to see that it’s unoccupied. The door barely closes behind him before he’s ambling towards his DM throne and frantically tugging down his jeans and boxers. 

“Fucking Christ,” he whispers, inhaling sharply as his cock is free of its denim restraint. He wraps his hand around it and squeezes in his desperation for an ounce of relief. Pre-cum already leaks from his red, angry tip, and he knows from experience that this is not going away without some…intervention. 

Eddie reluctantly lets go of himself and spits into his open palm. He bites his lower lip to stifle a burgeoning moan as he slowly works his shaft, fingers tightening to simulate what he imagines to be the way you’d feel. 

“Thassit, mmmf, feels s’good.” He closes his eyes and rests the back of his head on his chair. He needs you underneath him so he can watch your breasts jiggle with each snap of his hips. 

“Bet you want my cum, huh? Where do you want it?” Eddie keeps his voice low, barely loud enough for him to hear. “Want it on those pretty tits of yours? Yeah, you fuckin’ do.”

His fist flies over his hardness, choked whimpers escaping his lips. He feels pleasure begin to build and moans your name to bring himself over the edge. 

“Yeah?”

Eddie’s head snaps forward, taking a moment to let reality seep in. He’s not buried deep within you; he’s jerking off in a dark room where he plays Dungeons & Dragons, and you’re standing in the doorway. 

“Eds? You okay?”

“Hmm? Oh, yeah. ‘M fine,” he lies, silently brainstorming ways to tuck himself back into his pants without you noticing. 

You arch a disbelieving brow. “You sure? Lucas said he saw you running down the hallway—”

“I’m fine!” He insists louder this time. Shaking his head, he bites his lip and attempts to collect himself. 

The two of you have been friends for too long; you know that he’s far from fine when he raises his voice. You walk to him, determined to figure out what’s wrong. 

And then you see it. 

Eddie says nothing, fully focused on covering himself as best he can and avoiding eye contact. 

It doesn’t take long for you to put the pieces together: semi-hard cock in his hand, sweat beading on his forehead, the pleading mentions of your name. 

“Eddie.” You let your fingertips brush against his shoulder. “Did I interrupt?”

He only nods in response. 

“What were you thinking about?”

Eddie exhales a long breath before answering. “You,” he finally answers. “And th-that shirt you wore yesterday.” His cock twitches at the mere reminder of it. 

You grin knowingly. You’d bought it at the mall specifically because of its low-cut neckline, hoping it would catch Eddie’s attention. 

Apparently, it very much had. 

“You liked it?” 

“Loved it.” He starts stroking himself again, almost unaware of his own movements. “Want you to wear it every damn day,” he adds with a hoarse chuckle. 

Swiping your tongue over your lower lip, you lean in and whisper in his ear, “What if I didn’t wear one at all?”

With that, you lift your shirt over your head and unhook your bra, letting them both fall to the ground unceremoniously. Eddie’s eyes widen, gazing at your exposed chest. 

“Oh, baby,” he breathes, his free hand reaching out to touch them. His thumb grazes one nipple and he gives your breast a gentle squeeze. “Baby, they’re perfect.”

You smile, using your hip to nudge the table away and get on your knees in front of him. “Keep going, Eds.”

He nods again, shifting forward a bit so you’re between his legs. “Gonna…gonna cum all over these perfect tits,” he grunts. “Please. Please, I gotta…”

“You can cum on them, Eds.”

And, fuck, does he. Thick ropes spill out of his cock, painting your chest in a sticky film. He’s crying out your name as he does it, milking every last drop. 

He floats down from the high, staring at your chest and admiring the way he’s claimed you. “That…wow,” he manages, laughing nervously. “Let me clean you up.” He reaches for the tissues, wiping whatever is still leaking out of him before sopping up the mess on your breasts. 

“I don’t know where we go from here,” he admits sheepishly, wadding up the Kleenex and tossing it into the trash. “Like, do I take you on a date? Bend you over the table?” He says the second option teasingly, but you have a feeling he wouldn’t turn you down if you agreed to it. 

You re-clasp your bra and shrug on your shirt. “We could try a date,” you say as casually as you can. 

“Dinner and a movie?”

“I’ll wear that shirt.”

--

[keisobe]

: 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬 — (𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐲𝐚𝐦 + 𝐥𝐨’𝐚𝐤 𝐬𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲)

— from avatar 2 : way of the water (spoiler free!!)

contents. gn! reader, reader is a omoticayan on the shorter side, full on fluff, flirting + teasing, just teenagers in love, implied size difference, hints of mutual pining, mild profanity, reader is around 7ft + wc. 1.3k

notes. i got this idea from that one scene with tsireya and lo’ak then noticed how humongous na’vi hands are and the cogwheels started turning in my head. i had to look up their heights and do a comparison chart to make it accurate lolol. so i hope you guys enjoy this one ^^

NETEYAM・✶ ｡ﾟ

he was visibly confused when you asked to compare hand sizes, eyes flicking back and forth between his hands to yours. when it came to neteyam, he was a little more cautious, especially growing up around three troublesome siblings. there always has to be a catch when it comes to silly requests like these.

but after a few moments of awkward silence, he ends up obediently holding up his hand to you, earning a pleased smile from you.

“are you playing tricks on me right now?” neteyam had to make sure in case the situation calls for any medical attention. kiri and his grandmother weren’t that far off from you guys.

“no i’m not, swear,” you laughed, raising your own hand towards him.

the air felt weirdly tense as he felt your soft palms brush against his, a strange warmth enveloping inside his chest. for all the times you guys have physically touched each other, whether it be to tend each other’s wounds or when he mindlessly latched onto your waist whenever he feels like there’s a threat approaching, he has never felt that intimate towards your touches.

neteyam watched the pads of your fingers drag itself into the calluses of his palm, it made him slightly jolt from the ticklish sensation and you couldn’t help but quietly giggle at his reaction. he gave you a playful glare that silenced you, but there was still a smile on your face. finally, you laid your hand flat over his— mirroring his outstretched fingers. neteyam realized how much your hands were completely different from his.

he noticed how your fingers were a lot shorter compared to his. if he could close his hands into a fist right now, your hand would be completely engulfed by his slim fingers. this shouldn’t be a surprise to him, you were a lot more shorter than him by a whole foot— always having to crane your neck whenever the two of you talked or when he always teases you for being short. but somehow, neteyam felt like he just learned the secret to pandora. it made him melt inside a bit.

he couldn’t help but think your hands are adorable.

“you have baby hands,” neteyam teases, his fangs flashing in his smirk. “tiny and soft.”

there was blush that appeared on your cheeks, your eyebrows crinkled at his teasing, “they're not that small!” 

your mind couldn’t quite register the fact he also called your hands soft. it made you feel even more flustered.

his long fingers smoothly wrapped around your entire hand, restraining your hand completely. you tried to wiggle your fingers out of his firm grasp, but there was no use. you nodded in a defeated agreement, he was right— your hands are completely tiny. but with someone like neteyam, he needed to hear it from you verbally.

“say it,” neteyam can be such an ass sometimes. 

you rolled your eyes, tongue suddenly feeling heavy with denial. but you knew neteyam wouldn’t let go of your hand until you admitted it. childishly, you stomped your feet a couple of times before you spoke again.

“i have baby hands,” your voice slurred with anger.

neteyam smiled in satisfaction and slowly released your hand. you quickly snatched away and petted the delicate skin of your hand— comforting it after being restrained by his rough touch.

after that, neteyam would always hold onto your hand whenever you went anywhere together. it could be when you guys hunted in the depths of the forest or just out of comfort, but there was always one sly comment about the softness of your skin or how tiny your hands are. your hands are so cute, he would whisper teasing remarks until your ears grew red. the other sully’s caught on and started to tease you as well. now you have to deal with even more relentless teasing whenever you come to visit them. as a result, your new nickname became “baby hands.”

although he could tease you about your small hands, you could always get him back for liking them.

LO’AK ・✶ ｡ﾟ

he quietly watched you mindlessly trace circles on his blue palms, his other hand supporting his leaning form. you guys had ventured out into the lush forest, resting in a secluded area that you found together that one night lo’ak ran off to train by himself. lo’ak always had a swell of adoration towards you, there was no denying that.

whenever he got injured from flying his banshee too close to the floating mountains, he would come straight to you. sometimes he would even fake his own injuries, repeatedly slamming himself into a random tree— brash and completely mindless. at the end he would be groaning on the ground and clutching himself in pain. witnessing his weak form nearly gave you a heart attack, you quickly aided him back to health after that.

one thing he noticed from each interaction was how soft your hands were. they felt feathery to the touch, it was like you didn’t even touch him at all. the brush of your fingertips could put him under a permanent trance. kiri was always so rough with him when it came to healing, pressing so hard on him that it could add more bruises to his already-beaten body. but lo’ak came to the conclusion that kiri was purposely bad at healing him. lo’ak wasn’t really surprised.

“lo’ak, i need you to answer me honestly,” your gentle voice sent him back to reality, he had to blink a few times to focus on you again. 

you still traced your fingertips on his palm, but this time he felt you drawing little hearts and some words he couldn’t form together— maybe he could figure out what it means later.

he nodded at you.

“are you purposely hurting yourself?” 

oh shit he was caught.

lo’ak fidgeted a bit but didn’t dare to move, not wanting to disrupt your comforting traces on his palm. he knew that he shouldn’t lie to you, it would only make you worry even more. so lo’ak inhaled a deep breath and looked into your eyes.

“yes i have,” lo’ak sighed when he remembered how he would beat wooden sticks onto his calves and shoulders. “i just…wanted to be closer with you.”

your eyes flicked in worry as you stopped tracing his palm, instead you held his hand tightly, “you should’ve just asked lo’ak, you didn’t have to hurt yourself.”

lo’ak looked away in guilt, the images of your eyes prickling with tears and the worried cries from his own mother filled his thoughts. once again, lo’ak felt like a burden to the people he loved.

the chirps of the wild animals and the rustle of leaves played in the background, your sad gaze slowly moved onto his fourth finger— something lo’ak felt slightly insecure about. he was about to pull his hand away out of embarrassment but your three fingers slowly latched around his pinkie, they wrapped perfectly around it.

so small, he thought.

lo’ak stuttered a bit, none of his words could form cohesively. his heart was pumping faster at the foreign contact, but he tried to keep it cool.

“you better ‘pinkie’ promise me this lo’ak,” your voice was stern and powerful. “that you’ll never hurt yourself again.”

“i promise,” lo’ak gave you a reassuring smile, earning a relieved grin from you.

you guys both stood together, silently agreeing that it was time to retire for the night. your smaller hand was still latched onto his pinkie, the softness of your fingertips sent blood rushing to his face. there was also something that he really wanted to ask you.

“how do you know what a ‘pinkie’ is?” he wiggled his pinkie in your grasp, he saw you look away for a moment until you sighed softly.

“i asked your dad what it was,” you looked at your own hands, wiggling your three fingers in the humid air to avoid his gaze. “i was just curious.”

lo’ak couldn’t help but laugh out loud at your cuteness. he leans in closer to give you a heavy kiss on the cheek— rendering you completely flustered. he’s going to be teasing you for a while.

© 2022 keisobe – please do not copy any of my writing and repost or translate to other sites.