#and said he had a boyfriend and that boyfriend was Fit

[running-with-kn1ves]

Satin Pillows To Cry On

CW: coercion with money, age gap(7 yrs), transactional marriage, obsessive/yandere behavior

gn! reader

﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀

You’ve got nothing else, no one else to rely on. 

‘You’re something he bought to keep from growing old.” 

Your clothes are worth small countries. Your cars stacked in 3-level garages. Diamonds, emeralds, pearls hanging from your wrists and ears, satchels made of endangered animal skins, different shoes for each day of the year. 

Your boyfriend of three years spat at your feet when you told him what you were doing. 

“His money can’t love you, not like I can.”

The wedding was only two months away when you broke up with him, told him you couldn’t live in his broke-down apartment anymore, that you couldn’t live with debt trailing wherever you went. You went so far as to make him hate you, to tell him that you never wanted to see him again, that you never loved him, that he better not bother showing up to the wedding. You didn’t want him there, you never wanted to see him again. 

“You’re lying to me; he’s making you say these things, he’s using you against me! You’ve known him what-- two seconds, and you’re going to marry this man?! He’s nearly a decade older than you!” 

Seven years of an age gap or not, he was still a thousand times more independent, wealthy, and a safer choice than your boyfriend. You weren’t some fresh college student new to the world, you had graduated over two years ago, still finding no luck in getting a stable income-- forget about whether or not it was in the field of your degree. 

You left in a single day, fitting all of your scavanged belongings into one of your fiance’s awaiting cars. You left anything worth of value with your ex-boyfriend, knowing he’d find more use out of it than you would. You would even leave the rest of your things there if he could find use for them, but you knew they’d just be one more painful reminder of your betrayal. 

He did as you said, not showing up to your wedding, staying clear, never appearing in your line of sight since the day you left. It made it easier…. For both of you that way. 

And now you were happy-- well, maybe not happy, maybe not even content, but you were… safe. You had everything you needed: a working car, a stable job that you felt productive in, a clean and comforting house to come home to, a spouse. Sure, maybe you didn’t get your new job yourself, or your house or your car-- but did that really matter, in this economy? Who wouldn’t trade their life and their independence for this kind of wealth?

And your husband… he wasn’t all bad. He might have only wanted you for the sake of having you at first, like a new jewel or the latest technological invention. But he was doting and caring in his own way. Maybe just a tiny bit too invested in you, in your schedule and who you talked to. A little too hateful towards your ex-boyfriend, the one who had you before he could. But everyone had character flaws, and on good days you could distract him from his grumpy mood and stress and obsessive behaviors by being the loving and oh so perfect spouse you had trained yourself to be ever since he asked to marry you. 

“Colder than all that gold…” You repeated in your mind, the words your family whispered to each other at your wedding reception only a few feet away from you. 

That was over six months now, though… the honeymoon phase never existed, you rarely saw your husband except for his midnight appearances back from the office, and whenever he would whisk you away for a weekend vacation to savor the time he had with you. For someone more sophisticated, much wealthier, and dare you say handsomer than the average man-- you were surprised to find he didn’t have a line of divorces behind him. 

No; he said, he had been “waiting for you.” whether  you or he knew it, he understood right from the moment of meeting you that you were the one he’d have for the rest of his life, even if it killed him. That severity… scared you. But in a sick sense, it made you feel relieved. Forever? This could be yours, forever? Your family would never have to struggle again, you would never have to worry where your next meal came from?

“I cleared your schedule until tuesday; we’re going to the isles. A mini vacation, you might call it. Get your things.”

He was cold, that was for sure. But, was he any worse than your ex-boyfriend, especially when he was offering you an expensive experience on top of that?

“All right..” You acquiesced. 

And now, you lied sunken into the bed feeling his loving, hot breath on your navel. Going so sweetly slow, so oddly and uncharacteristingly lingering with his touches as he gazes into your eyes. You didn’t like this; didn’t like that when he was cherishing you, making love to you, holding you so intimately, he was appearing… like a husband should. Where did he get the nerve to ignore you everyday, to have hardly any time for you, only to come back and beg for your love when it was convenient for him? 

But you keep your mouth shut, like you should, if you want to keep eating breakfast in bed, keep wearing silk robes while watching the view of the ocean outside your window.

“So beautiful…you’re like a work of art, the kind no amount of money can buy.” 

That was funny, hilarious even. Enough so to make you cry. 

A familiar face passes by the slightly ajar door to distract you, likely one of the housekeepers leaving for the night. But you swear the man’s figure reminds you of someone from your past, someone you loved and left for good. 

Your husband brings back your attention by placing a gentle kiss to your temple, blindly undoing the clasp of the necklace he bought you.

“I’m so lucky… so lucky to have been the one to catch you, forever. No one could’ve done it, not without what I have.”

He wanted you to kiss and caress back, but sometimes lying still was just enough. It was enough for him to witness you, basking in the glow of everything you wore from him, lying in the Egyptian cotton sheets he paid extra for, your body molded to the diet his personal chefs cooked. 

Even as he pushed a knee between your legs, traveling from your navel to your stomach with open-mouthed sucks and kisses in the rawest form of affection, you couldn’t help but turn your face deep into the pillow. So soft, the soft purple shielding your eyes from his tender gaze.

You might’ve given up love, given up everything familiar and those who you’ve cared for-- but at least you had satin pillows to cry on, and the finest jewelry to wipe your tears with. 

[smuttyaf]

Mr. Brightside

𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐰; 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝, 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐬.

wc: 4.2k | part one

breeding k!nk

“What are you up to?”

It’s a simple question, one that you should have the answer to immediately — one that should be rolling off your tongue within a few seconds, but it doesn’t.

In through one ear and out the other, it slips through your mind the question at hand with the following actions partaking in your position right now. With vision trailing closed, a pleasant hum leaves your throat while tongue slithers out to wet bruised flesh, you nearly forget what you’re doing as Harry is fit between your legs.

His lips suck your swollen glands in his mouth, muscle sliding amongst jittery ball of nerves that has your chest stutter at the lewd motions. Shaky fingers feel over cotton sheets as they draw down the expanse of it to cradle themselves in untamed curls.

“Hello?”

The questionable voice on the other end of the line makes another subconscious hum float into the space. Your lips part, shoulders going slack with toes curling in; how did you manage to even get here?

“Just ah… catching up on—” The hand holding your phone carries itself away from your ear as Harry’s tongue prods gently against your needy hole, making a pitiful whine escape. “Fuck.”

Teeth bite into your flesh hungrily, lashes peeling your vision open with fingers tugging away on his strands of brown locks. This is so wrong, absolutely diabolical but it’s even worse that you like it.

It all happened so fast; one moment you were reading with feet mindlessly tussling with Harry’s to soon answer the bombarding call of your boyfriend. It’s not unusual for Reid to call and check-in, he’s done it before it’s practically part of your routine, but that doesn’t mean that Harry wouldn’t be annoyed by it.

At first it started with double checks in your direction, the obvious look of “hurry and end the call” written all of his features, but Harry never understood that it was not that easy to immediately get off the phone with him. So, as Reid listed off the many clients he met today to what he had for lunch, it was only right for him to close the unattended book in your lap and slide it amongst the bedside table, his hands soon scooping your waist in his hold as he pulled you down the bed.

It was innocent, at least that’s what you thought. His touch pushing your thighs higher up amongst your body to the point your knees lie into your chest. His gaze haunting as you lightly laughed into the phone at whatever joke was said.

In Harry’s mind you shouldn’t be laughing at something that didn’t come from him, and frankly it was pissing him off that Reid was cutting into his alone time with you. And yes, by now he knows; he’s heard it all before. Being with someone in a relationship wasn’t for the weak-hearted, not for anyone built with insecurities, and at first Harry had it down pack, he didn’t care for your boyfriend, he was annoyed by his presence and stupid jokes (who wouldn’t be) which is why he made sure to make a good impression on you the first time.

Yes, you…

Sweet smile and the irresistible aroma of vanilla. Since being introduced in the friend group Harry knew he had to have you and he didn’t care if Reid stood in his way.

It’s why he made his move on you so long ago, why you’re pressed beneath him right now - your once adorable laughter being caught in your throat as Harry pressed himself into you. Half hard bulge sinking into the fat lips of your pussy stretched in such a position from your leggings that you inhale an uneasy breath, vision looking between his heavy-lidded eyes and growing cock.

“You alright? What happened?” He asked because such sudden pause in laughter leaves the call feeling ominous, confusion completely flooding his tone.

“I-It’s nothing… just stubbed my toe.” The first lie falling from your lips as hand went towards the band of his joggers, the gentle shove you do means nothing to him as Harry takes them to hold.

“Oh! Ouch!”

“Yeah…”

Innocence flew out the window that very moment, but it’s hard to think it was ever there. Shallow breaths escape watching closely to the way he trails up the expanse of your torso, body leaning in closer allowing his cock to rub amongst your pussy rougher than before. Harry’s nose softly dragged down the underside of your throat as your intertwined feet now run along his calves.

His lean body pressed amongst yours and fit himself into your laxed frame as if puzzle pieces made to fit. You shouldn’t have been turned on right then, should’ve pushed him away again and told him another time… but you just couldn’t, not when your walls begin to swell and pulse against his covered bulge.

From whispered words running across skin to gentle touches pulling away clothes, it all resulted in the circumstance you’re in right now; Harry proudly thrusting his tongue into your pussy. Cherry red and glistening with spit, he lied amongst his stomach with eyes closed and nails scratching into skin purely in love with the taste of you. The scent and arousal being expelled is his absolute favorite; it’s fresh yet ripe, such a distinct specific pheromone that leaves him enraptured by the fact you’re ovulating.

His wet muscle nuzzles itself lucidly between soiled walls. The seedy texture nurturing the fixated trance you have over him; creamy fluid spreading amongst taste buds overthrown by how delicious you are. It’s why he moans against you with brows pushing together. Maybe he should quiet down, stop his hums of pleasure from filling the space but he can’t, not when you’re fertile and dripping with the need to be stuffed.

“Catching up on…”

“The Bear.”

It comes out in a whispered rush, droozy and tired. It makes Reid's face twist in confusion, his familiar irritated huff rings throughout the speaker making you roll your eyes open. You know you’re not making this situation any better, not even trying to hide how out of breath you sound but it’s hard trying to keep your voice flat with the way Harry is eating you out.

“I thought we were watching it together?” He grumbles, clearly annoyed, but you didn’t care.

Harry’s tongue runs itself messily over your hole, his own sight peeling open as his touch drags down your thighs spreading them open further. He adjusts his position, the wings of his back flexing beautifully as he leans up — messy curls and possessive vision looking over your glistening plump lips — letting a tear drop of spit fall across an irritated clit.

Would it be suspicious if you end the call right now? Because you’re sure it wouldn’t be as bad as the heavy panting you’re doing over the phone.

Teeth dig into flesh, sight looking over Harry leaning in and letting his tongue flatten against your lips to catch the fluid and run it back over your pussy. His hand situated along your pelvis draws down to meet his mouth and begins playing with your clit, further adding more pleasure to the already immersed feeling.

“W-We…” Voice halting as your lips part at Harry lapping over your swollen hole again. “We are… I just wanted to rewatch it, catch up.” Hopefully saving yourself as your words wobble in hesitation.

“Babe, are you sure you’re okay?” Reid asks just as Harry’s tongue thrust back in with heavy motions of his thumb quickening in paste. He was breaking you down in every imaginable way and all you could do was accept the fate crawling up your feet.

His grip held you onto the bed, mouth penetrating your drenched cunt as you tried to bite back your whimpers. Harry was more turned on than you could imagine; having his way with you while your boyfriend is listening, not knowing about what’s partaking in the background. It turns him on knowing he touches and licks parts he no longer has access too, how he can fuck you and send you home to him like it’s nothing.

“Are you coming down with something?” He questions once more which drags you out of the lucid feelings beginning to overcome you. Lashes flutter open your vision, consciousness finally coming back with the eery shivers of your orgasm pulsing through your pelvis.

“No, baby. I’m fine.” You manage to say with the straightest voice. Your chest draws in as thighs tighten around Harry’s head, the fingers that once ran through his hair trail down his neck lightly scratching the hickies blossoming along the surface trying to hold onto a sliver of hope.

“The show is just stressing me out,” Breath falling across the screen as pins of pleasure begin to prickle up your spine. “But, what are you doing now? Didn’t you just get off work?”

The little inch of self-control left disappears as nails sink deeper into skin and chest blossoms red while empty moans escape. Right foot twitching, thighs quivering around curls, and spine flexing into duvet allowing the feelings to consume every motion that once rebelled against such feelings finally barreling through.

And as Reid continues going on his daily tangent about how he woke up this morning to the annoying client he had today, your eyes remain close and head buried into the pillow. Hips rotating against Harry’s mouth that slobbers and slurps your orgasm leaking through. If you weren’t so incoherent at the moment you would’ve told him to keep the noise down, but you’re too in love with this feeling — in love with him — to even tell him to stop.

Tongue continuously laps over swollen hole, lips sucking your throbbing one’s into his mouth as his own eyes flutter from the delicious way you taste to the sight of you holding yourself back. It’s such a divine sight; nipples erect, perky and well rounded, chest red with pleasurable irritation and neck straining trying to not let moans escape. Harry can’t help the way his own hips runt into the sheets finding minimal satisfaction in the position he’s in.

“Then, babe, you wouldn’t believe what happened-”

But, you don’t care. Not even a slither of your attention is given to him as thumb continues to run across your clit in slow circles. It has you swallow hesitantly, lungs nearly gasping for air as your waist pulls back. Your mind was in the gutter allowing Harry to eat you out while on the phone with your boyfriend. Your body has completely surrendered and been claimed by him that it didn’t matter who was on the other line and if he could even hear the exchange going on right now, nothing matters at this moment but your climax racking through leaving twitching tremors to rake throughout.

It was hard to not let a tiny whine escape, bruised fat parting eerily as Harry’s wet muscle ventures up the expanse of your pussy. Split ends tickle inner thighs as warm breath runs over blushing skin, his touch peels away from your trembling waist as they draw up your body. Soft moist sponges of love trail up your chest to pepper along your neck drawing you back to consciousness.

“Pussy so perfect.” Harry slurs drunk from the taste of you. He’s intoxicated and will do anything to have all your focus on him. “Gonna fuck you baby, I know you’re begging for it.”

Erect cock sinks along your pelvis making you whimper against the blade of his shoulders. Heavy lidded eyes look up at the ceiling to the ringlets floating in your vision. Just as much as he was infatuated with you, are you to him; heart singing a heavenly tune, legs wrapping around his waist to fingers dragging along his stomach. The feelings that ignite and pulse through your veins at just the simple feel of him running down your skin was an electric passion that had you hooked on him from the very beginning.

“Want me to fill you up?” He breathes into your ear as his arms shuffle by your head. His own cranes away to look over your face, how glossy your eyes are with arousal and teeth fitting along fat flesh. It’s that sight alone that he presses his lips amongst yours; both slouching amongst the other and french kissing as if wanting to devour each other again.

“Y/N, what the fuck is that noise?”

Eyes pop open in surprise, immediately you pull away with hand tearing the phone away from your ear sending Harry a concerned look.

“You think I give a fuck?” His words falling over your face with the end of his lip turning up into a smile. It shouldn’t arouse you, but look at the predicament you’re already in, obviously it turns you on more than you’d like to admit and maybe you need to start coming to terms with that.

“This pussy belongs to me.” Harry affirms as gaze flickers from your pouty lips to full breasts on display. He sits up on his knees, vision still stuck on your body and how sexy you look below him that he doesn’t hesitate to slap your tit obnoxiously earning a giggle from you.

“What the fuck, Y/N?”

“Oh my god Reid, it’s nothing. I’m just eating strawberries?”

Another laugh escapes as Harry rolls his eyes at your excuse, it’s a shitty one but it’s all you have at the moment with the way his cock lies along on your stomach.

“Jesus, go on mute then.”

“Yeah whatever, whatever. What else were you saying?”

Stirring the conversation away, you watch Harry drink in your appearance with hands feeling over your body. Tongue escapes to wet your lips as you raise up on your elbows, hand lifting the phone away from ear to put it on mute before you throw it onto the bed.

“Done playing games?” Harry questions as he takes himself into his hands, thighs shuffling amongst the bed to pat his cock along your puffy folds.

“Mhmm… want you to fuck me.” Spreading your legs wider as sight doesn’t stop looking at how thick he is.

“Yeah… you liked me eating your pussy while you're on the phone?” Words initiating a low whimper from your throat as your head nods along to answer. That look alone has the crown of his cock rest before your hole.

“Love my dick more than your boyfriend’s, huh?” He continues to egg on as he buries himself into his favorite place. He didn’t need an answer from you because the sight before him was already enough; heaving chest, brows frustratedly pushed together and cheeks all red and rosie. He's in love.

“Tell me baby, I wanna hear you.”

“Yes, Harry. Fuck.” A deep breath escapes your lungs as you look up at him, one hand situated along the duvet as the other runs down his tattoo arm. His beauty still captivates you till this day with the way he leans over and fits himself on top of you. His hair falling across your forehead while his big hands hold your body into the mattress. You’ll never get used to this beautiful sight. “Love your cock so much.”

Harry takes pride in those words. Your wet pussy surrounds him with tight walls stretching all over his pulsing dick. It drapes love all over him knowing your body and words correlate together always giving him his favorite answer; it’s why he moans lowly. Hips drawing out to begin thrusting back in steadily, letting it imprint in your mind just how good he feels stretching you out. Thick, heavy, and pressing against your lips snuggly, he wants you mesmerized and fascinated by the way he fills you up.

“Gonna put a baby in you.” His deep voice fans across your temple while his hips continue to drum against yours. Such a comment allows an array of butterflies to swirl in your stomach.

Of course, Harry would say something that hot and possessive while he fucks you into the sheets. Lengthy girth collecting with creamy slick that begins to cascade down the expanse of him. It’s clear you want it, from the hesitation in your breath to the slow bat of your lashes, you’ll do anything to have his seed buried in you.

“Fill you up and make you mine forever.” Harry continues as his hands leaves their position to hike your thighs up higher on the bed letting him slip deeper into your pussy.

“Want you to take my seed, every last drop of it.”

“H… you’re so deep.”

Head bobbing relentlessly to the way he’s fucking you to the point your feet dangle in the air. Harry is fucking you vigorously; sight transfixed over your pleasure filled face to your breasts bouncing to each rough thrust. A hungry groan escapes Harry at just the look alone, how enthralled and delighted you look at just him filling you up this way.

“Yeah… you like my dick?”

“I love it baby, love your cock so much.”

Your vision looking at how fat lips spread each time his balls press against your pussy while he tags your cervix repeatedly. This feeling was making you absolutely delirious; mouth opening and closing constantly, heart pounding along rib cage as pussy throbs with each stroke. You swear every time he slips in you fall deeper into ecstasy.

This whole entire situation is a twisted fucked up one but you wouldn’t want it any other way. Being split in half by Harry as he lies on top of you letting you feel every inch and say the dirtiest things to put you over the edge. You might as well be in heaven being pounded the way you are.

“My dirty fuckin’ girl.” Harry mumbles as body now sounds against yours. Sweat begins to cascade down and slither into every inch of skin that radiates how heated both of you are.

You’re so wrapped up in Harry and how he’s plowing you into the sheets that you’ve completely forgot Reid was on the phone — and it’s obvious to him that you forgot too because he’s now ringing down your phone hoping you pick up again. The persistent vibration of his calls are felt on the other side of the sheets but they’re easily drowned out by your moans filling the air.

“S’good baby, fuck me so good.” You slur as eyes peel open slowly with hands running up your sides to touch where Harry is holding you down.

“Mm…” His head swaying into yours swiftly consumed by how wet you feel as if he’s underwater. “Jesus, your pussy is amazing.”

Immediately you moan at his words before letting your neck crane forward and have his lips slot along yours. Spit exchanging and twirling along tongues hold your attention more than Reid ever could that the repetitive hum of your phone going off every few minutes isn’t even heard by the sobbing puddle of arousal dripping from your sex.

The heavy drag of Harry’s cock drumming into your pussy leaves endless whimpers to breathe into his mouth. Pitiful and needy is all that emits; it’s what your aura is filled with and Harry can’t get enough of it. Pussy wet and squelching every time he sinks further and further into your sweet cunt that he loves so much.

“Sh-Sh-” Words being cut off as your sight rolls and head slips deeper into pillows. You're dizzy off how Harry can fuck you like this every single time. More desperate, more hungry, more addicted, you could only take so much for so long till you start succumbing to the pinches crawling up your toes and digging nails into skin.

“Can’t wait to see how swollen your tits get.” His breath falls across your lips hotly that you whimper in response. Head nodding as sight grows heavy, captivated by his lewd words only further coercioning your climax. “Pretty pussy so needy for cum.”

“Harry.” You cry out pathetically has he begins fucking you with long, rough strides.

Your chest glows with hunger, waist twitching as his grip tightens itself along your thighs as he goes to sit up. Abdomen flexing, tattoos shining and body pouncing into yours; Harry is so hot — undeniably hot — and when he fucks you like it’s his last day on earth and whispers his most dirtiest thoughts in your ears it was only right for you to be falling apart.

“Look at you… begging for it.” Harry groans as he presses you further into the bed as if he could fold you even more. But, it was okay. Of course it was, his cock was satisfying your every need.

“Tell me baby, tell me you want my cum.” He lets his left hand leave your thigh to slap it dominantly earning a high pitch whine to leave your throat.

“Mm… please…” Your voice is filled with pleasure as your orgasm begins to tick all throughout your pelvis and jerking spine. “Want you to breed me, fill me with your seed.” Said so out of breath as your body continues to thump into the bed recklessly while Harry grunts into the heated space.

“Harry I’m gonna cum, fuck.” You whine as you feel tears begin to fold over your waterline, lips curling into your mouth as chest stutters letting the waves of your climax crash over you. “Oh my-”

But again, your words are cut off as he doesn’t stop fucking you. Nails tearing into skin letting tiny droplets of blood prickle amongst the surface, baby hairs sticking to temples and vision blurring in and out of consciousness. It wasn’t a surprise the next slip of words are incoherent mumbles and whispers, something that has Harry feening even more over.

“That’s right, cum on me while I use your pussy.” Such erotic whispers of his thoughts carry your knees further into your chest as you try to shy away from his rapid strokes. “I know you like it.” Continuing to egg you on as if you’re not already withering beneath him in pleasure. “Still letting me fuck you while your boyfriend is calling, don’t you want to pick up?”

Your head shakes disapprovingly as teeth sink into your bottom lip. He knows what he is doing with the quick smirk stretching over his lips to match his teasing words, he loves it just as much as you do by rubbing it in your face about how nasty your actions are to your long term boyfriend, and how he’s the one doing those very things.

“That’s my good girl… letting me use you.” Harry mutters as his head bows and lashes flutter, his cock continuing to let your pussy sound all along the four walls of the room further driving you up the wall.

“Gonna take my cum baby, huh? Want me to fill your pussy up?” His neck ventures towards you as his body completely cowers into yours, limbs stressing to relax repeatedly as you feel his balls twitch against your soaking lips.

“Please put a baby in me.” You whine as hips convulse around his own in the aftermath of your orgasm traveling through. “Please, Harry.”

“Want you to leave me full and round, know you’ll like that baby.” You breathe out shallowly as lungs gasp for fresh air burnt out from how hard he’s assaulting your pussy.

“Breed me baby, please? Please?”

And without hesitation Harry slams his hips into yours once more, a deep groan falling across the crook of your neck as he plasters himself on top of you. Slicky ropes of cum bury itself into your pussy mixing along with your own arousal as he begins cussing profusely.

Stuttering hips surrender to his tantalizing ones as he pulls out slowly before thrusting back in again. Small drips of his seed flowing out of your puffy folds and trailing down your ass cheeks as Harry fucks his nut into you.

“Take it all.” Whispering below your ear while placing a kiss along the skin there. “I love it when you take it all.”

You hum pleasantly, lashes clouding your vision as you nod your head along to his words. Fingers release from around him and draw up his arms feeling over his biceps to his shoulders and into his curls soaked in sweat.

“Gonna look so beautiful carrying my kid.” He says as his waist meets yours once more leaving you to shiver from the feel. He raises up from his spot, gaze all drowsy but filled with love as he doesn’t hesitate to lean forward and press his lips to yours.

Sweet loving kisses exchange in a passionate make out session as Harry continues to stroke himself slugglishy into your soiled cunt filled to the brim with his cum. The feeling of his cock sliding slowing down your walls expanding and bruising every inch with such grace was the most euphoric pleasure you know and you love so much that Harry pleases you so easily with it.

“You’re so good to me.” You hum against his lips as fingers tangle through his heep of hair. “Always good to me.”

And just like that you both are back in your own world. Peppering kisses along skin, sweaty touch roaming amongst clammy one just enthralled with each other and loving the peace you both bring.

You know eventually you’d have to call Reid and explain why you never picked up his call, but that’s just an excuse you’ll have to figure out for another time.

[hiraethwrote]

loner megumi x popular reader masterlist cw: f!reader, aged up characters, college au, fluff, slight alcohol mention, no use of y/n word count: 1k

There was an unspoken rule in your relationship — passenger princess gets to choose the music. It just so happened that you were the princess 90% of the time. You were more than capable of driving, you just preferred being able to lay your head back, scroll your phone meaninglessly and sing blissfully along to the music.

And though you never said it out loud, you also just preferred your own music — you and Megumi had vastly different preferences in what you listened to. It wasn’t that he had bad taste in music or anything, but his playlist just did not align with the vibes you wanted when on the road.

It mostly consisted of obscure artists who had less than 100 000 monthly listeners or some indie band that you always thought fit best for simply chilling on late summer evenings… Weezer for example, which was someone Megumi had introduced you to.

So while your upbeat music bounced within the car, you subtly glanced over at him to see if there was any frustration resting on his features. If he was fed up with your music, then he did a terrific job of hiding it.

But once every blue moon, Yuji managed to force convince Megumi to join him for a few drinks — with a little help from you, of course.

“Go have fun, babe, and I’ll pick you up when they’re heading out.” He gave you a sad look, hoping for sympathy while he played with your fingers. After a few moments of deliberation, his head slowly started to nod, though he wasn’t too excited about it. He would rather just stay in with you, but you thought it did him good to hang out with someone who wasn’t you.

Three hours later, you were stood outside Yuji’s dormitory complex, watching as Megumi hurried out of the building with his hands stuffed in the pockets of his jacket. Once inside the car, he instantly leaned towards you to receive the mandatory kiss whenever you reunited.

“Have fun?” You asked, slowly backing out of the driveway while he pulled out his phone to connect it to the car stereo.

“‘S alright,” he sighed, attention locked on his phone.

“They were going out, right?”

“Yeah, they tried to convince me to ask you to drive.”

“Oh, I could have given them a ride-“

“No, you couldn’t,” he pouted. Turning to look at him, his face was still angled downwards, but the bright light from his phone screen revealed how his cheeks were slowly turning red. You only chucked, amused — but also flattered — of his shy possessiveness.

The music started to play, and your eyebrows narrowed in confusion when you recognised the melody. This wasn’t something from Megumi’s playlist… this was one of the songs you used to put on.

“I didn’t know you liked this song,” you smiled.

He shrugged. “Yeah, I like the lyrics.”

Despite being the driver, you got to indulge in your traditional performance, singing along to the words you knew so well. Your head fell back against the headrest, a small satisfied hum leaving you as the song came to an end.

However, the next song was also one you recognised. Your confused expression returned, turning to look at your boyfriend again, who was simply staring out the window, pretending as if nothing was out of the ordinary.

And when the fifth song in a row was one of yours, you had to ask “is this my playlist?”

“No.” Short, determined, no signs of a lie anywhere in his answer.

“These are songs I usually play.”

“So? It isn’t your playlist.”

The entirety of the drive back to his place was filled with songs you would usually play. Though they all seemed to fall within the calmer spectrum of your music, it was definitely still your music.

The car turned silent when you shut off the engine, looking over to see Megumi resting his head against the glass, steady breathing revealing he had fallen asleep. All the socialising mixed with the few drinks in his system, he was probably exhausted.

You reached over to wake him up, hand stopping right as you were about to touch his arm, when his unlocked phone caught your eye — Spotify on display to reveal the playlist titled ‘her songs I actually like’.

“Cheeky bastard,” you whispered to yourself, causing his eyes to slowly flutter open.

“Hmm?” He breathed quietly, rubbing his eyes before turning to meet your giddy face, bottom lip tucked between your teeth. “What?” He mumbled in a tired voice.

“You’re a sap!” You teased.

His eyebrows pinched closer, trying to piece together what you were talking about. “Are we home?”

“Don’t change the topic, mister. You’re secretly a romantic!”

His attention flicked to his bright screen, seeing the playlist he had curated in your honour, a groan slipping out of him immediately. “You weren’t supposed to see.”

“Why? It’s cute!”

“Exactly, it’s gonna make you insufferable.”

It drew out an offended scoff from you as you shoved his arm. “Whatever, you’re the one who made me a playlist.”

“This is what I was talking about,” he groaned again, hurrying out of the car.

“Wait up,” you laughed, rushing out of the car, instantly tugging at his arm when you caught up with him. “I have a few questions about it.”

“I am sure you do.”

“So, how many songs are on it?”

“Quite a few.”

“That’s not a number.”

“A lot.”

“Are there songs of mine you hate?”

“Oh, definitely.”

“Can you show me those?”

“If you really want me to.”

Well into the night, the two of you laid in his bed, talking about music. He told you which songs of yours he could not stand, causing you to laugh uncontrollably when he tried to hum the melody and failing terribly, seeing as he had not been bothered to learn the titles of the ones he hated.

Then he played you his favourites, and explained why — how you seemed to always enjoy those the most when singing along, cheeks strained because you were smiling so much.

And in return, you told him which of his songs you liked — which ones of his you found yourself tapping your foot along to, some of your opinions genuinely surprising him.

Eventually, you both fell asleep with the playlist on in the background.

tags (taglist is open)

@sad-darksoul ﾉ @nyahctrl ﾉ @ssetsuka ﾉ @aceakariii ﾉ @chxlexauriana

@ps-forgetmenot ﾉ @thejujvtsupost ﾉ @acowboykisser ﾉ @rixo-19

@aestheticallyvini ﾉ @iheartlinds ﾉ @rory-cakes ﾉ @tiffanyandrson

@madaqueue ﾉ @lemonnotade ﾉ @six-eyed-samurai ﾉ @gdamnackerman

@hiraethwa

a/n

surprise post. just a cute lil something <3 he is so casually cute, the small things yk

©hiraethwrote 2024 . all rights reserved. reposting, translating and otherwise plagarisim is prohibited

[iamgonnagetyouback]

𝟷.𝟸𝚔 || 𝐌𝐑. 𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐘

♡ ︎ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: You were successful at keeping Mr. Flopsy a secret from your boyfriends...until now.

♡ ︎ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: None except loads of fluff

♡ ︎ꜱʜɪᴘ: poly!marauders x reader

You were a master of secrets. Keeping your relationship with the Marauders on the down low? Piece of cake. Sneaking into the boys' dorm after hours for late-night cuddles? Easy. But the real secret, the one that kept you on your toes every single night, was far fluffier—and far more embarrassing.

Your beloved stuffed animal.

It was a worn-out, floppy bunny you’d had since you were a kid. Its fur was matted from years of love, its ears uneven from countless bedtime adventures. You still slept with it every night, clutching it tight like a lifeline. Of course, there was no way you'd ever let your boyfriends know. They'd tease you mercilessly. Sirius, especially, with his "I’m-too-cool-for-everything" swagger, would have a field day.

You were certain you’d done an excellent job hiding your bunny… until tonight.

You all had decided to hang out at your dorm tonight and your heart picked up it's pace whenever any of them got close to the bed.

It was just your luck, then, that Peter was rummaging around on the floor, searching for a Chocolate Frog he swore he’d dropped earlier. “Where is it?” he muttered, crawling dangerously close to your bed.

You eyed him nervously, feeling your heart rate pick up.

"Maybe the frog decided to leave because it didn’t want to be eaten,” Sirius drawled from across the room, flicking the Quaffle up again.

"Very funny," Peter muttered, but then he froze. His eyes narrowed, focusing on something just under your bed. Slowly, he reached out and pulled at something soft.

Your heart dropped.

Peter tugged harder, and then—there it was, dangling by its floppy ear in his hand—your bunny. Your beloved, secret stuffed animal.

"Er…what’s this?” Peter asked, blinking at the well-worn toy. “I didn’t know we had a sixth member of the group?”

James whipped around, his hair now messier from his mirror battle, eyes wide. “Is that a stuffed bunny?”

Sirius burst out laughing, rolling off your roommate’s bed in a dramatic heap, holding his stomach. “Please tell me that’s not yours, love. Please.”

Remus looked up from his book, trying and failing to hide a grin. “Well, this is a new revelation.”

You flushed furiously and snatched the bunny from Peter’s hand. "I-it's not what it looks like!" you stammered, clutching the toy to your chest.

“Oh, it’s exactly what it looks like,” James smirked, stepping closer with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Our very own tough, cool Y/N still sleeps with a stuffed animal."

Sirius was laughing so hard he was practically wheezing by now. “A bunny no less! Oh, this is rich.”

You glared at him, trying to defend yourself. “It’s… it’s for comfort!”

James, now fully in on the teasing, nudged you playfully. “We should’ve known. You’re a secret softie.”

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t help the smile tugging at your lips. “Yeah, yeah, laugh it up.”

Peter was still looking at the bunny like it was some rare magical creature. "I’ve got to admit, I didn’t see this coming.”

Before you could snap back, James swooped in, holding the bunny up again. “What’s its name?” he teased, eyes twinkling.

You groaned. “It doesn’t have a name.”

“Oh, come on,” Sirius said, finally catching his breath. “Everything has a name.”

"Yeah, like James’ hair gel,” Remus added, smirking.

James shot him a look, but Peter nodded, still curious. “Does it have a backstory?”

You groan, face burning. “I… it’s just—fine. His name is Mr. Flopsy. Happy?”

There was a split second of silence before chaos erupted.

“Mr. Flopsy?” Sirius howled, flopping back onto the floor dramatically. James, meanwhile, had lost the ability to stand and was now clinging to the bedpost for support.

“Merlin’s beard, darling,” James choked out between fits of laughter. “That’s…that’s adorable, and so unexpected!”

Remus, though, just gave you a soft smile, clearly more charmed than he wanted to admit. “It’s not that embarrassing,” he said, though the twitch of his lips betrayed him.

You sighed heavily, knowing there was no way out of this one. “Fine, yes, I still sleep with Mr. Flopsy. Happy?”

Sirius crawled up onto your bed, wiping a tear from his eye. “Absolutely. But, darling, now that we know about Mr. Flopsy, you’re going to have to share.”

You glared at him. “What?”

“Oh, yeah,” James said, now fully recovered from his laughing fit. “I think Mr. Flopsy is part of the group now. We’ll have joint custody.”

Peter nodded seriously. “I get him on Thursdays.”

“Fridays are mine!” James declared, smirking.

Remus chuckled and shook his head, still watching you fondly. “This is going to be the softest thing in this dorm, and I’m including you lot.”

Sirius grinned and pulled you into a side hug. “Don’t worry, love. We’ll take very good care of Mr. Flopsy. And of you.”

You couldn’t help but laugh despite yourself, rolling your eyes at them. “Fine. But if you rip him, there will be consequences.”

They all nodded with mock-seriousness, Peter saluting you. “Mr. Flopsy will be protected at all costs.”

And just like that, Mr. Flopsy became the official mascot of the Marauders.

[icallhimjoey]

Not sure if you've done this but it fits the general mood of the fandom lately: I want grovel-y Joe. Knows he really fucked up but he's a guy so he doesn't know how to fix it so he just throws anything at the wall to see what sticks. And honestly we're not sure if we'll forgive him but we're definitely sticking around to see how far he's willing to go.

(yes I am in therapy 🤣)

okay im using this request to fix whatever that bullshit was that i wrote before this - hope you enjoy! Wordcount: 3.8K

---

I'll Let The Sun Decide

Joe realises it in the morning. Feels like the biggest fucking idiot in the world.

Correction: the biggest fucking idiot on the moon.

He watches you walk out of his bedroom after leaving a perfect cup of coffee, exactly how he likes it, on his bedside table and everything about that makes his heart ache.

After the way he behaved last night, he knows he doesn't deserve a sweet gesture from the girl who looks like she only managed to sleep for about two hours.

You look exhausted.

He only catches a glimpse of you, and a few seconds later he can hear the coffee machine go again. You're making a coffee for yourself after making him one, and Joe can't help but groan his face into his pillow.

Fuck.

He didn't reach out for you in the night.

Your one fucking rule.

He vaguely remembers going, "Hmm?" after he raised his head off his pillow in a jolt.

"Just me." You'd whispered, nothing malicious hidden in your voice, because it was after midnight and it wasn't the time to continue whatever you'd started earlier that evening.

He should've reached over then.

He hadn't. Not even a knee to your thigh, or a toe to your foot.

Nothing.

He should've been happy you'd come back to his flat instead of going to your own. You could've so easily decided to avoid him for a bit, but you didn't. You said you'd come back, and then you did, and, fuck.

He hadn't reached out.

He hadn't even read the texts you'd sent. Left you with a bunch of grey ticks.

Well.

He had read them, but only in the notification bar.

He'd seen the messages about you making it to the office safely. Of how Charlotte was there too - you'd do the work together and you'd be done much faster that way. A little later of how you'd just be another hour, and of how you'd let him know when you'd leave.

He wanted you to feel bad about choosing your work over him, so he withheld the coloured ticks and had felt real fucking smug over it. It was sickening how right he'd felt about his actions in the moment. Every petty little thing justified, just because you'd hurt his feelings.

You'd climbed into bed after he had already fallen asleep, and the feeling of movement next to him pulled him from his slumber. And then, instead of reaching over like he should have done, he had sighed all heavily, like he was really fucking annoyed that you'd woken him up as you got comfortable under his covers. He'd rolled over and ignored you. Turned his back and festered in his own anger like a moody teenager because he truly believed you deserved it.

What a fucking loser.

Didn't touch you all night.

The realisation slaps him in the face unexpectedly, and your early-morning kind gesture is what flips the entire script. What a fucking loser of a boyfriend.

You've made the deadline.

Joe sees it when he opens his messages after taking a perfect sip of hot coffee, and it's weird how he feels awful about himself and proud of you at the same time.

He didn't need to let the world burn over such a tiny inconvenience.

Joe hates the moon.

Longs for the sun.

The moon is cold and dark and he's all alone up there, only warmed by the light the sun will bring him.

The sun. Or, the messy-haired girl with tired eyes in soft clothes too big for her body who brought him a hot cup of coffee before she even made one for herself. Either or. Same thing.

Joe stares at your messages in silence, gives you the coloured ticks he should've given you last night, and feels heavy guilt find home in the pit of his stomach.

You finished all the work in time. Probably have done a real good job at it too. Did it at the office, away from Joe's bad temper, and managed to actually focus and forget about how he told you to fuck off when you were already on your way out anyway.

What a dick-move.

Fragile ego syndrome, you'd guessed then.

That dick-move is what had you second-guessing going back over to Joe's for a while. Maybe going back to your own flat was the smarter idea. Avoid the confrontation and just text him the next day, after he'd cooled off a bit.

Maybe he'd actually read those then.

Another dick-move.

Joe could be so annoying sometimes, but it was easy to read him and you knew that just a little consideration of your time would fix whatever this silly issue was. With that in mind, you'd made your way back over to his.

You knew his dick-moves only meant he was going to feel bad about himself come tomorrow morning.

And you were right.

Besides an annoyed sigh and a soft grumble, you didn't get much else from him when you got into bed.

That was fine.

Again, you didn't think it was the right time to continue a fight anyway.

But the morning brought something new.

You woke up before Joe did and it took a few seconds for you to remember. To realise your prediction was right. Joe hasn't reached out in the night. No silent I still love you touch under the covers for you.

And it stings.

Could make you cry if you thought about it long enough.

Joe's stayed on his side of the bed, facing away from you, and you tell yourself that at least you've come back to his flat like you said you would. You finished the work you had to finish, and did the right thing by returning.

But then, you concluded, you also haven't reached out to him at all, and immediately felt bad.

Joe can be so annoying sometimes, but you do still love him, and a warm palm to a shoulder blade could've at least let him know.

It would've made you the bigger person.

Which, you still were. You came back, didn't you? But Joe was being an absolute child and you didn't want to sink down to his level.

You should've reached over. Should've touched him. You have no good excuse for not following the one rule you came up with after your first real argument, and now you feel bad.

Shit.

The coffee is to make up for it. At least a little. To say, I'm sorry I didn't reach out, here's me doing that now.

"Morning," you whispered when you saw him stir and open a squinty, confused eye.

You didn't wait for a reply. Just left the coffee there and walked back to go and make yourself one too.

Joe watched you leave and the moon came crashing down.

He knows what the coffee means.

He's read your messages, can hear you make breakfast in his kitchen and decides he needs to reach out too. With his coffee in hand, he gets up and makes his way over to his living area where he finds you rubbing your fist into an eye through a yawn, with a carton of eggs in the other hand.

"Morning," he croaks, and sees how it's only just starting to get light outside, it's so early still.

It feels a little weird and embarrassing to speak to you right now. To remember how you'd been in this same room just a few hours ago, and he'd told you to fuck off.

Fuck off, he'd said. To his girlfriend. Had meant it with his whole chest too. What a fucking idiot.

You turn your head to give him a small smile that doesn't reach your eyes, and ask, "Do you want some eggs?"

The moon can die.

He doesn't want the moon.

The moon is too far from the sun. He wants you closer and happy and well-rested and for your smile to overtake your whole lovely beautiful face when you see him and he hasn't got the faintest clue where to even start to fix it.

He doesn't know how to turn all the feelings in his chest into words to convey how sorry he feels. Has no idea what to say. Has no idea how you'll react to a verbal apology either.

But you look so soft, shoulders slouched, the scrunched up bit of fabric that held your hair up and out of your face as you slept about to slip out. And, even though he can tell it's not a real smile, you're still giving him a kind face. You're being civil.

You've made him a coffee how he likes it and just offered to make him some eggs and, Jesus, he's just the most awful person ever, isn't he?

The overwhelming need to wrap himself around all of you takes over.

Joe leaves his coffee on the side and steps closer to attach himself to your back. You accept it, and he can feel how you let your head rest against the side of his as he hugs you, arms tight around your waist.

He's glad that you let him.

But he also feels the defeat there.

The, Joe what the fuck, that's waiting to slip out of your mouth. Maybe it's why you're keeping things surface level. No time or energy to get into an actual conversation right now. Just breakfast eggs and perfect coffee.

That's okay.

Joe doesn't know what to say anyway, and he'd love some eggs, actually.

"I'd love some, but," Joe kisses the side of your face, does it quick so he doesn't have to feel you pull away from it, and then gently moves you aside. "Let me."

A first attempt at fixing it.

Joe finishes breakfast whilst you go for the quickest shower of your life. When you turn the water off he asks what time you need to leave from the kitchen. His eyes find your coffee that's going cold, and he thinks it's so stupid that you have to be back at work so soon.

This time he doesn't feel sorry for himself, though. This time he feels sorry for you.

It's a big difference.

You've only just left the office, Joe thinks. And sure, sometimes he makes long hours and feels like he lives on set, but you're in an office.

He knows that's different.

Worse.

You've got to go and present all the things you've finished and he knows you like it just as much as he does. That being: not at all. There's no use in getting angry at you.

He sees that now.

You're just as much at fault for not being able to go out with him last night as he is. That being: not at all.

Joe watches you take a few hurried mouthfuls of egg on toast, and he wants to tell you sorry before you leave.

He doesn't.

Isn't sure how, and feels like a literal child because, Jesus Christ, they're just words.

But you smile at him, even though it's only small. And you let him kiss your cheek on your way out. And when you've left, it's not even eight o'clock, which is too fucking early, and he decides he needs to give you more quiet I love yous that he didn't give you under the covers in the night the way he should've done.

You get flowers delivered to the office that afternoon.

It's a large bunch, beautiful colours, and you can't lie; it absolutely makes you smile. You can tell it's expensive, and you know he's paid extra for the same day delivery, but... he didn't reach for you last night, and you didn't reach for him either, and whenever you think of Joe, that's all that comes to mind.

You'd seen him turn to stone.

So cold and careless.

Had seen in his face how he didn't give a single shit about how inconsiderate he was being.

A bunch of flowers isn't going to magically make that visual go away, but it's nice that he' tried's trying, and you try to hold onto that.

When you leave the office that day, you text Joe that you're headed to your own flat because there's food in your fridge that needs eating before it goes off, and your dishwasher is half filled with dirty dishes that have been in there for about a week already, so you kind of need to go turn it on, and there's probably also a load of laundry you could do, plus a quick pass of your floors with a vacuum, maybe.

Joe doesn't get to read it for a few hours. Busy day on set. When he eventually does, sort of annoyed that you had to wait for his coloured ticks again, he texts back, "Yours?"

And you text back so quickly, it makes his guilt grow.

"don't forget your key, im gonna lie down "

Perfect, Joe thinks. He'll sneak in and maybe get some of your shit sorted whilst you kip on your sofa.

But when he walks in, you're not on the sofa. You're already in bed, and that's sort of heartbreaking, because it's so early, and Joe finds the food that's about to go off uneaten in your fridge still. Finds the dishwasher still half filled, smelling rank, dirty dishes growing mould in there. He also sees the full hamper that needs sorting and washing, and, how had he even had the gall to assume that you could just make time for him at a moment's notice when you hadn't even been able to take care of any of this?

Joe starts the dishwasher.

Sorts your dirty laundry and starts a dark wash.

Cooks the food that's about to go off and places it in plastic tubs to have at another time.

Notices you've not taken the flowers that he had express delivered home and tries not let that affect him, but fails.

You're not sure what it is that wakes you. The beeping of the dishwasher, or the clanging of plates as Joe places the clean ones back into their cupboards. When Joe comes to find you, you're on your side, facing away from the door, but Joe can see you're awake by the light from your phone that silhouettes you.

"You're awake," Joe says, voice surprised, and it makes you turn to look over your shoulder.

"Hey," you say softly, and Joe's eyebrows knit together automatically at how sad you sound.

"Thanks for the flowers," you turn in bed to let Joe kiss you as he bends over to place a small one to your forehead. "They got delivered during my presentation."

"Was it embarrassing?" Joe asks, sitting down next to you, one arm either side of you as he leans over. Kisses you again, but on your mouth this time.

"Very. Vanessa just barged in with them."

"Did you like them?"

"Hmm," you nod and give a little smile. Joe's glad for it, but he feels there's a distance there still. You're keeping your hands to yourself, even though his bare arms are right there.

"I um," Joe starts, and wants to start listing all the things he's done. Wants to tell you how he's been sweet, and kind, like you were with him this morning, and he wants those things to be the silent I love yous he should've given you last night.

But then he changes his mind and says, "Did the, um... did the presentation go okay?"

You nod, because it did go really well, actually. Thank fuck. But Joe doesn't ask any more questions about it, and he seems to hesitate to even speak at all. Seems to want to say something that he's clearly not saying. Afraid to say the wrong thing, maybe. You wonder if there's a sincere I'm sorry hiding in there somewhere.

"You seem tired..." he skirts around the issue, and it's disappointing, but not surprising.

"I am tired."

Then Joe looks at the empty space in your bed for a moment and gets up. Starts undressing. Leaves his clothes in a neat pile on your dresser and goes to brush his teeth.

When Joe looks at himself in the mirror, he frowns.

Fucking idiot.

Look at that coward.

He rests both hands on the sink, hangs into his shoulders, breathes through flared nostrils, and feels like a failure. You must think he is one too.

He didn't reach over last night.

With his toothbrush still in his mouth, he steps back into your bedroom and inhales a deep breath through his nose before he mumbles a barely audible and a very foamy, "I shouldn't have..."

He hears himself, grumbles low in this throat and turns on his heel, spits the toothpaste out and comes back.

Starts again.

"I shouldn't have said those things. Last night. I was being a dick, I shouldn't have done– well, anything, really. I was being mean just to be mean, I'm–"

"Joe," you interrupt, your voice soft.

You didn't reach out either.

"No," Joe argues, moves to sit back down next to you, arms back either side of you, hands pressing into the mattress. "You have nothing to be sorry for, I just," Joe sighs. Frowns. Doesn't know what to say.

What can he say to make you run a hand up one of his forearms?

"I didn't..." he tries once more, but falters again. Drops his head and knows he can't cry because he is not the person he's hurt.

He didn't reach over last night.

"Hey. I didn't either."

You read between the lines, even though your vision goes blurry with tears. You can hear the words Joe isn't saying and can read the thoughts he's not communicating. Joe's face always tells you a million things. You wonder if he's aware how easy he is to read.

You also wonder if he's aware that it's not going to be enough.

Joe swipes a thumb across your temple, close to your eye, and catches a tear that was about to slide into your hair.

He swallows thickly. Tries to swallow down whatever's hurting his throat.

"I don't want to live on the moon..." he then mutters, regretting how he set the world on fire. He wants to live on planet earth, even though it's all grey and black ashes now. He'll plant flowers there. Will feed them water, and will politely ask the sun let them grow.

Will ask you.

You're the sun.

You get to decide.

You don't fully understand what Joe means, because it sounds ridiculous, actors and their theatrics, but you tell him you don't want to live on the moon either and he huffs a laugh at how absurd that sounds coming from your straight face that's pretending it's not actively crying.

You're the sun.

Of course you don't want to live on the moon, silly.

"Your priority–" you start, breath hitching, but Joe is quick to interrupt.

"You. You. Us. I'm... it's us. I promise, it's us..." Joe sighs again, seemingly upset at remembering his own behaviour.

"Saying that is easy, though," you start, finally letting your fingers slowly wrap around one of his arms.

A touch.

It's enough to make Joe's whole face crumble.

He ducks down. Lets his arms find your shoulders to pull you up a little so he can hug you properly, both arms wrapped tightly around your frame, his face hidden into your neck, and you know Joe's only crying because of your fingertips touching his wrist. The smallest things can get him sometimes – so dramatic.

But you continue, "I believe that you believe that your priority is us, but when you're stomping around your kitchen, blaming me for shit I have no controll over, telling me that it's my fault that I–"

"No," Joe mumbles into your skin, and pulls back just enough to press his forehead against yours. "No."

And you give his forehead a slight push with yours and you want to say, yes.

Yes that's what you were doing.

Yes that's what happened.

Yes you got caught up in all of your own feelings and forgot that I have a whole set of my own.

But then Joe whispers, "I'm sorry." and you can't help but go absolutely lax in his hold.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have. I love you, I'm sorry." he whispers his apologies against your mouth through heavy breaths because he's doing his best to not cry, but he's failing, because then he feels you shake with a sob, and, fuck that, he'll banish himself to the moon, actually.

He'll live up there no matter how miserable it is, and he'll take whatever sunlight he can get, and he'll be thankful for the rays you'll allow to even reach him at all.

"You didn't t-touch–" you stutter, and immediately feel Joe squeeze you tighter.

"I'm sorry, I love you. I'm so sorry." Joe whispers right into your ear. Keeps repeating it, over and over and over.

Your one rule.

He should've never broken it.

It's good to hear the words, the I'm sorrys tumbling over his lips, and you'll accept them for now. But actions speak louder than words, and you know that there will probably be a time where the way the world treats Joe will make his head grow to twice its size again. He'll do and say similar shit. Won't want to meet you halfway, but will demand that you make the trek all the way over to him, won't care what the ground will look like, and won't care if you're wearing shoes for it or not.

Joe doesn't know it right now, but you can see into the future and know it will happen again.

And when it does, you'll grow a little colder.

Let some of your rays die out.

"Here. Lay back." Joe says after holding you for a while, and when your head finds your pillow again, Joe curls around and uses every body part of his to touch yours under the covers.

Every inch of skin touching yours is a big fat quiet I love you that he'll repeatedly tell you all night. He's not gonna let go.

He knows he's on the moon still. Up there, all alone. Cold. In the dark.

He said he's sorry, but knows it's not enough.

Wants off, but is smart enough to not set foot somewhere he's not allowed yet.

He has said that he's sorry, and now he needs to wait for the sun.

Wait for you.

And he'll touch you under the covers until you're ready.

Whispers the promises into your hair as you fall asleep.

You get to decide.

He'll let the sun decide.

---

The Taglisted

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@everythinghasafacee, @ferfan14, @figmentofquinn, @ghost-proofbaby, @gri959

@hanahkatexo, @hazelenys, @jewellethief, @joesquinns, @keikoraven

@kennedy-brooke, @lovelyblueness, @mandyjo8719, @mexicanfolklore, @munsonluvrr

@munson-mjstan, @munsonssweets, @nadixq, @niallersfreckles, @notverywise

@pepperstories, @phyllosilicate-s, @prettiestboyreid, @readergf, @royale1803

@skulliecadaver-blog, @sherrylyn0628, @shizlac, @solzi1420, @songforeddiemunson

@sweetberry47, @take-everything-you-can, @thebellenouvelle, @tlclick73, @werepartnersnow

@witchwolflea, @yunirgo

add yourself

[mindmelter]

A Body Stealer Tale: Jogger

I was in the kitchen preparing breakfast when I heard the door opening and closing, indicating that my boyfriend had returned from his morning jog.

But I almost dropped the pan I was holding when this tall and fit black man came into the kitchen. I had never seen him before, so I was left completely frozen on the spot, staring at him with scared eyes.

The man then opened his vest and looked down at his fit body.

"What do you think of this one babe? Isn't he a catch?" He asked.

I sighed in relief, it was my boyfriend in another man's body. "Babe, I told you already to warn me when you wear a new body, you will end up giving me a heart attack!"

My boyfriend was a scientist; years ago, he developed a bodysuit serum; he could turn anyone we wanted into a wearable bodysuit and wear them. Today, he went to jog in his overweight white body and came back as this hot black stud.

"I like him, where did you find him?" I asked, walking towards him and feeling up his hard pecs and pecs.

"I found him jogging at the park, got him the injection from behind, then dragged him under a bridge," He said flexing his muscular arms. I cupped his biceps and played with his dark nipples a little.

"I don't like it when you use the serum in public. It's too risky. We already moved cities because you couldn't stop harvesting men. I don't want the police to investigate us again."

"Oh please, stop the bullshit, I know you love this!" He said; he then roughly bent me over against the balcony and pulled down my shorts. He gave my ass a hard slap and kneeled behind me then started giving my ass a proper eating.

I let out a loud moan as I felt the man's beard pressing between my ass cheeks. Standing up, he pulled down his grey shorts, grabbed his thick shaft, and slowly shoved it into my ass.

I felt his big manly hands around my waist as he started thrusting hard. "You're telling me you don't love getting fucked by a different cock?" He grunted, his thrusts becoming more savage and primal, "The cock of a straight guy who would never fuck your hungry ass if it wasn't for your loving boyfriend wearing them?"

"I.... I love it!" I moaned.

[therealcocoshady]

The Hoodie

A/N : Hey guys ! I'm sorry, I'm not uploading a lot, these days. I have been drowning in work for my PhD dissertation... Also, I've been super sick. I actually allowed myself a break for daydreaming about snuggling in Marshall's hoodie 👀. Anyway, here is a little blurb and I hope you enjoy it ❤️.

Summary : you are dating Eminem and you are sick while spending a few days at his place. Ever the thoughtful boyfriend, he comforts you and gives you one of his favorite Detroit Lions hoodie.

CW : Fluff

The Michigan wind whipped through the trees outside, rattling against the windows.Marshall sat at his desk in the corner of his home studio, trying to focus. Beats thumped softly in the background, lyrics half-formed in his mind, but something wasn’t right.A small cough echoed from the bedroom, reminding him why he couldn’t concentrate. You had been battling a nasty cold for days now. You’d tried to play it off at first, but the stubborn fever, the constant sniffling, and the exhausted look in your eyes were impossible to ignore.He sighed, running a hand over his face before standing up. He was busy and he had tons of work to do for his upcoming projects, but he didn’t like the thought of being locked in the home studio while his girlfriend being sick in bed. It felt incredibly selfish. It was bad enough that he had to spend part of what should have been a lazy weekend with you working, and he wanted to be there to comfort you. You’d been together for a little while, nearly a year, and, though he’d been guarded at first, he had come to care for you deeply and it was time to put the feeling in action. 

He walked down the hall, pausing at the door to the bedroom. You were curled up under the thick comforter, your nose peeking out from the blankets. Your hair was a mess, but even like this, he couldn’t help but think that you had that effortless beauty that always caught him off guard.“You okay?” he asked softly, stepping into the room.You peeked one eye open, offering him a weak smile. “Been better,” you rasped. “But I’m surviving.”Marshall frowned, moving to sit on the edge of the bed. “You should’ve told me earlier how bad it was. You’re burning up.” You chuckled lightly, but it ended in a coughing fit. You waved a hand dismissively once it passed. “Just a cold. I didn’t want to bother you.” Marshall shook his head. “You ain’t bothering me. You should’ve said something.” He stood up, heading toward the closet. “Hold up. You’re always freezing. I got something for you.”

You watched him curiously as he rummaged through a pile of clothes before pulling out his favorite Detroit Lions hoodie. It was old, worn in, and oversized, but it was the softest thing he owned. “That’s your favorite hoodie.”, you pointed out. He smirked, shaking his head. “Yeah, but you’re cold. And if you get better faster, maybe I’ll get it back sooner.” He tossed it onto the bed next to you. “Put it on. You’ll be warmer.” You hesitated for a second but then reached out, grabbing the hoodie and slipping it over your head. As soon as the fabric touched your skin, you melted into its warmth. It was so soft and smelled faintly of him—of cologne and something uniquely Marshall. You buried your face in the collar, sighing contentedly. “Okay, you were right. This is amazing.” Marshall chuckled, leaning back against the wall, arms crossed. “Told you. That’s a certified Detroit classic right there. Ain’t nobody who wouldn’t feel better wearing it.” You gave a small laugh, your eyes heavy with exhaustion but a bit of the tension seemed to leave your body as you got cozy in the hoodie. “I’m not giving this back,” you teased, your words a little slurred as you started to drift off. Marshall smiled faintly, watching you. “You keep it. Looks better on you anyway.”. 

After a few days, you finally got better. You hadn’t let go of the hoodie. The warmth, the smell, and the comfort it gave you had become your safety blanket. Standing in the kitchen, you caught your reflection in the window—there you were, swimming in his oversized hoodie, the faded Lions logo worn down from years of wear. As much as you loved how it made you feel, you knew you couldn’t keep it forever. You knew it was his favorite and you had come to understand that he could get very sentimental when it comes to certain items. You heard Marshall come in behind you, his steps heavy on the wooden floor. He dropped his keys on the counter and cracked open a bottle of water, taking a long sip before leaning against the kitchen island, watching you with that half-smirk of his.

“You look better,” he commented, his eyes flicking to the hoodie you were still wrapped up in. You tugged at the sleeves, glancing down at yourself. “Yeah, I’m feeling a lot better. Thanks to this, mostly.” You gestured at the hoodie, then gave him a sheepish smile. “Speaking of which, I should probably give it back.” Marshall raised an eyebrow, setting his water bottle down. “Why would you do that?” You let out a soft laugh. “Because it’s yours? And I’ve been hogging it for days now. I mean, it’s your favorite.” He stepped forward, closing the distance between you, eyes narrowing in mock seriousness. “It was my favorite,” he said, his voice low but teasing. “But now it’s yours.” You blinked, surprised. “What do you mean? You love this thing.”. “Yeah, but I love seeing you in it more.” Marshall shrugged casually, but there was an earnestness in his voice that caught you off guard. He reached out, gently pulling at one of the sleeves, the fabric falling long past your fingertips. “You look good in it. Better than I ever did.”. Your heart fluttered, and you couldn’t help but smile, though you tried to downplay it. “I don’t know, you kinda rocked the baggy hoodie look,” you teased. Marshall chuckled, his eyes softening as he gazed at you. “Nah, you can keep it. I’ll grab another one. It’s just a hoodie, anyway.” You bit your lip, looking down at the oversized garment again, fingers tracing the worn-out logo. It felt like more than just a hoodie. It felt like a piece of him—something intimate and familiar, something you never realized you needed until now. “But it’s not just a hoodie,” you said softly, glancing up at him. “It’s yours. It smells like you… and it’s—" You paused, realizing how cheesy you were about to sound. “It’s kinda special.” Marshall gave you a small, crooked smile. “Yeah, it’s special. And that’s why I want you to have it. You’ve been through a lot this past week. It makes me feel better knowing you got something to hold onto when I’m not around.” You looked at him, your heart warming at the sentiment. He wasn’t always good with words when it came to this kind of stuff, but when he was, it hit you right in the chest. You stepped closer to him, arms wrapping around his waist, your face pressed against his chest. “Thank you,” you mumbled into his shirt, your voice muffled but sincere. “For everything.” He rested his chin on top of your head, his arms coming up to hold you close. “Don’t mention it. Just... don’t forget to wash it every once in a while. I don’t want my hoodie to smell like Vicks forever,” he joked, the vibration of his chest making you giggle. You pulled back slightly, smirking up at him. “No promises.” Marshall laughed, shaking his head, but his smile lingered as he looked down at you, still tucked into his hoodie like it was made just for you. “You know,” he said thoughtfully, “it’s not about the hoodie. It’s just... I like knowing you’re taken care of. Even if it’s something small like that.”. You tilted your head, your eyes softening as you gazed up at him. “You’re sweet, you know that?”. He groaned dramatically, rolling his eyes. “Don’t start with that,” he muttered, but the corners of his mouth twitched as if he couldn’t hold back the smile completely. You laughed and stood on your  tiptoes, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. “Too late.” For a moment, you both stood there in the kitchen, wrapped in each other’s arms, the hoodie now a symbol of something more between you. It wasn’t just about the comfort it gave you—it was about how it made you feel connected to him, even in the simplest of ways. As you settled back against his chest, Marshall kissed the top of your head, his voice a soft murmur in the quiet of the room. “Keep the hoodie,” he said again, this time almost a whisper. “It’s yours. Like me.”

[leejeongz]

🫧 enhypen reaction - you have a hidden tattoo 🫧

pairing: boyf!enhypen x gn!reader

genre: suggestive (sunghoon, jake, sunoo), fluff

warnings: newly established relationship, enha see your body, physical affection, pet names

𓆉 heeseung

“where is it?” heeseung probed, teasingly. his hands tickled at your sides before moving to your stomach, making you get slightly mad.

“stop it,” you swatted his hands away, “it’s not there.”

his smile faded apologetically. “sorry, i just got a bit excited, i didn’t even realise you had a tattoo!” his voice gained momentum as he spoke, clearly getting more excited about the idea again.

“it’s not that exciting, honestly,” you turned to show him the tattoo on your back.

he read it quicker than you expected him to, giving him time to snake his arms around you and kiss your cheek from behind, “art is long, life is short,” he recites, “and yet none of it is as gorgeous as you.”

𓆉 jay

“i literally had no idea that you could speak japanese?” he looked at you puzzled, wondering how he managed to overlook that cool fact.

“yeah, i even have a tattoo in japanese,” your tone suggesting he should’ve seen it before.

“y/n, believe me the last thing im looking for is tattoos when i see you,” he admitted, “but now im curious.” he rocked back on his chair, expecting you to simply roll up your sleeve or show him your ankle.

you looked out of the window of jay’s studio to ensure that there was no passers by before pulling the hem and turning around. “my lower back, can you see it?”

“mhm,” he leaned closer to see what it said, “muse? well, i’m glad that you know.” you turned back around and found yourself suddenly in his arms, “my muse.”

𓆉 sunghoon

“sorry that we have to share a bed,” your lips tugged to one side of your face guiltily.

“babe, it’s okay,” he lay in the middle of your single bed, “you can lie on top of me if there’s no room,” he smiled to you cheekily, not expecting you to actually climb on top of him.

“isn’t it funny how you have wardrobes full of clothes,” his hands rested at your sides, “yet you still HAVE to wear my shirt?” his fingers moved slightly, tickling you, causing your arms to flare around and his shirt to raise, exposing your thighs.

“hm what’s this? it’s beautiful,” his thumb held the shirt just high enough to still see your upper thigh, right where your tattoo sat. you blushed, giggling for lack of a better response.

his arms wrapped around you, his hands meeting at your back to pull you in closer and tighter, “you’re beautiful.”

𓆉 jake

as soon as jake mentioned going to the beach on the sunniest day of the year, you knew you had to find your cutest swimwear. you slipped it on under some loose fitting clothes and headed to the beach, where you met with him and a few friends.

“i laid you a towel down, i knew you’d forget to bring one,” he laughed, noting your almost empty beach bag. “come on, let’s get to the ocean!”

you hurriedly took off the outer clothing, revealing more of your body than jake had seen yet. he tried to hide a smile but ultimately failed, turning into a chuckle as he muffled out a compliment. “damn! look at you.” he took in your figure before his eyes landed on it.

“is it basic?” the question slipped out before he could even say anything, but you were relieved when he shook his head in response.

“it’s hot,” his teeth pulled at his bottom teeth, preventing him from saying more, but it wasn’t quite enough as he rolled his eyes, “fuck, you drive me crazy, baby.”

𓆉 sunoo

“honestly, it’s fine, you’re my boyfriend,” you giggle, “i’ll just get changed here.” you spun your arms around his room, as if to suggest there was plenty of room to do so.

he nodded, attempting to look away as you lifted your shirt over your head, but he just couldn’t.

“oh wait, y/n, what’s this?” he stood from his desk chair. his thumb rubbed at your waistline, right over your tattoo.

“it won’t come off, sunoo,” you laughed, taking his hand away to reveal a small moon and singular star.

“oh my gosh, it’s so pretty, i never knew you had a tattoo here?!” his hand ripped from your grasp and went to touch it again, sending a hot flush through your body. noting your reaction, sunoo’s palm covered your tattoo, pulling you in closer to him.

“you should show me what other secrets you have,” he whispered against your lips.

𓆉 jungwon

you lay with your torso to your bed, jungwon rubbing his hands together across the other side of the room.

“just the top of my back, it’s so painful, i don’t know what i’ve done!” you tell him.

“okay, i’ll get my best masseur hands on then,” he walked over to you, a little too excitedly. the minute is hands touched you, you could feel the tension escaping. the relief was instant. “the other side too?” he asked, lifting his hands. before you could respond, his voice filled the room, “you have a tattoo?! nice”

he took a closer look, taking in the intricate fine line details of the artwork - a small flower on your right shoulder.

“it’s so pretty, baby,” he complimented, “so pretty.”

𓆉 niki

“i’ll just shut up then, shall i?” you watched as niki’s eyes drifted from your own to your shoulder for the fifth time in a single minute.

he snapped out of his trance, “sorry, i was trying to listen, but there’s something there under your sweater,” he pointed.

“huh?!” you exclaimed, swatting it away, “what is it? get it off!”

his hands held your arms to your sides, forcing you to be still for moment as he investigated. with your eyes squeezed shut, you obviously weren’t to know that niki was currently sporting a huge grin. “a tattoo, y/n? i never expected that from you.”

your heartbeat slowed, finally, realising what had happened, you opened your eyes again.

“ohhhh that, yeah i got it done last year, have you never seen it before?” you asked, puzzled.

“nope,” he looked to you with his finger hooked over your off the shoulder sweater and you nodded. he pulled it down ever so slightly to reveal the scattered butterflies. “i like it though,” he added, “let me see it more often?” he pleaded, with his doe eyes that you can never say no too. “only i can see it, though.”

[lulublack90]

Prompt 18 - Write

@rosekillermicrofic September 18, word count 582

Previous part First Jegulus part

“Who are they and why are they in my kitchen?” Sirius asked, watching them carefully. Barty nearly lunged at him. That fucker knew exactly who he was. He hadn’t changed that much in the years they hadn’t seen each other. He felt Evan’s hand on his arm, warning him to calm down. He took a shuddering breath and glowered in the elder Black's direction. 

“These insane people are your personal protection unit. The second Wormtail steps foot in the café, they will be on him. Have you ever seen a lion lake down a wilder beast? That’s them.” Regulus said proudly as he pointed at them. Barty felt a swell of affection in his chest. Regulus knew them so well. 

“That’s really kind of you to volunteer them, Reggie, but you do know that we’re just going to ban him and not kill him, right?” Sirius half laughed awkwardly as he stared at them. Barty couldn’t help it. He needed to poke the bear. 

“Aw, take all the fun out of it, why don’t you,” Barty sulked, his bottom lip pouting. 

“Don’t worry, babe, you can stab me in bed tonight,” Evan purred in his ear loud enough for them all to hear. God’s, he loved Evan. He turned to look at him, a shit-eating grin on his face.  

“I think I’m about to have a stroke,” Sirius groaned, dropping his head into his hand, clearly not comfortable with their brand of affection.  

“I can smell burning toast,” Pandora piped up, sniffing the surrounding air, with her eyes closed. 

“Shit!” Sirius spun around and opened his toastie machine, revealing the burnt bread. He sighed and threw them in the bin.  

“Don’t worry, it’ll be fine,” Regulus patted Sirius’s arm. “They’ll scare him just enough so that he never comes back.”

“Fine. Now get out of my kitchen, I have toasties to create!” Sirius waved them out. The little group followed Regulus through the double doors and into the café itself. 

“And who are these insanely attractive trio?” The fit bloke behind the counter asked as Regulus led them to the counter. 

“Barty, Evan and Pandora,” He listed them off, gesturing to each in turn. 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Remus,” Remus beamed at them. “Can I get you anything?” Barty found himself blinking dumbly at the man with the honey-coloured eyes and the sexy as fuck scars. A quick glance at Evan told him he was thinking the same thing. They wanted him badly. 

“Ahem,” Regulus hissed at them. “He is Sirius’s boyfriend. Hands off.” Barty and Evan sighed simultaneously. 

“ Three black coffee please, and a hot chocolate for Panda, please,” Evan ordered for them. 

“Girl after my own heart,” Remus mused as he picked up his pen to write down their order and turned to make the drinks. 

They’d just taken their drinks from Remus when the door burst open.

“Regulus darling, are these your friends?” A woman with the warmest smile Barty had ever seen beamed at them. He knew that beaming smile. 

“Mum! Dad!” James came crashing through from the back and hugged his parents. Oh, right, that was James’s big grin. Barty braced himself. If his parents were half as affectionate as James, he was about to be dragged into a hug or, worse, a cheek pinch. He surreptitiously dragged Pandora in front of him and willed himself to become invisible, but then he caught Mr Potter’s cheeky wink, and he knew there was no escape.   

Next part

[anomaly-hivemind]

Wanna Play Doctor || No. 12 Medical play, Somnophilia, and Costumes w/ Law x GN!Reader

Tags: Dubcon, somnophilia, medical play, handjobs

Kinktober Masterlist, One Piece Masterlist

Word count: 632

You were getting your ass handed to you in an online match of ‘Texas Chainsaw Massacre’ when Law peeked into the room from the bathroom. He had a few droplets falling down his chest, a towel wrapped around his shoulder. Law runs his hand through his simi-wet hair

As walks over to the bed. He leans back on the bed and looks up at you with a smile. You decide to start a new game, you were losing anyway and switch to Twitch. Picking a streamer you knew played long hours and set the volume to low. No one would be really watching it really anyway.

“How was work?” You placed the controller on the bedside counter, then turned to face him again.

“Tiring but when is it not?” he massaged his shoulder and sighed.

“Yeah, being a doctor is bound to be stressful,” Law grabbed your hand and yawned at your statement. You rub his shoulders slowly and firmly and he closes his eyes for a moment.

“Something like that.” Law was already dozing off at the minute's pace. He looked so sexy, naked with messy hair, and his chest tattoos look so kissable. You caress his hair , petting his hair until he's basically on the edge of being asleep. You carefully get up and head to the closet and steal a pair of scrubs, you'll wash them later.

The pants didn’t fit your ass so you opted to just wear the shirt and sit back on the bed. You went back to rubbing Law’s shoulder and even his pecks. He let out faint sighs as you felt him up slowly. You move slightly, your thighs around his head as you take your hands down further down his naked body.

Law stirs slightly from his sleep, you can’t help yourself. Running your hands up and down his abs like clockwork until your eyes catch something. Pitching a tent with a towel was sleepy Law’s dick. A smirk forms on your lips as the slight of his happy trail leads down to his peaking prize.

You shuffle to get closer to his waist so you can feel up your sleeping angel in more important places. You don't move the towel, simply giving an experimental poke to his tip. You look at him, he didn’t move so you do it again and this time the towel falls off a bit. You lick your lips, you love how sexy your boyfriend is, in all matters of fact.

“Baby.” a faint mumble escapes his lips but his eyes are still closed.

“Yes mister doctor,” you whispered in response to his half-continuous mumble. Your hand ran along his hard dick with a smirk.

“What are you doing” he said in a sleeping voice.

“”I thought I would take care of the doctor for a change. Think of me as your personal nurse.” you take a firmer grip on his manhood and he let out a husky groan.

You press a kiss his tip and he moans, man did you think he sounded sexy you started to jack him off less lacklusterly. His eyelids fluttered but didn't open and he bucked his his slightly, his mouth a bit gapped.

You teasingly run your tongue against his length, lapping up his precum with a moan of your own. You wrap your lips around him and you bob your head up and down his cock making your insides tingle. You feel him twitch in your mouth and you look up at him and see his eyes flutter again. His balls twitch and before you know it he comes down your mouth with the stutter of his hips.

[54625]

An idea that absolutely no one should fulfill - because it would take way too much digging through VODs - but is still entertaining to imagine is a Bee style Hideduo compilation video but it's just all of the times they've referred to each other as boyfriends or talked about/to each other in romantic ways while completely out of character without any of the necessary clarification and naturally the video is titled they're really hard selling it

[cruelplatonic]

ruminating on 'the vees died despondent nobodies' thoughts

velvette interrogates vox after she hears him give various conflicting and bombastic accounts on air. a selection of these include: blew his brains out on live television, administered the death penalty for killing his "bitch wife," a tragic accident involving two shetland ponies, dubiously legal iranian yogurts, and a whole lot of cocaine. the actual cause was shockingly ordinary- a heart attack in front of the television, alone, his corpse only recovered after two weeks passed. he was watching a game show and his last mortal regret was never even learning who won, because he died during the commercials.

[charmin-ultra-strong]

I miss the era of movies where people were allowed to be shirtless without completely destroying their health

[whateveriwant]

NSFW Size Difference HCs with Simon

F!Reader, Part 2, SFW version

“It’s too big” girlfriend 🤝 “I’ll make it fit” boyfriend

Seriously, there’s no such thing as a quickie with this man. Before you have sex, he always has to stretch you out either with a toy or a couple of those thick fingers of his

Speaking of which, you’ve become well acquainted with the taste of his fingers from how many times he’s gagged you with them as he’s fucked you when you have guests over

Oftentimes, he doesn’t even verbally tell you when he’s horny. He’ll just walk up behind you and press his hard cock against your lower back (he calls it “show, don’t tell”)

He’s always teasing you about how small your hands are in comparison to his, especially how you can’t even make your fingers touch as they circle his thick dick :(

Sometimes when he’s going down on you, you think your hips are actually going to dislocate from how far you have to spread them to accommodate for his shoulders

Before he pushes into you, he loves to lay his cock against your stomach and measure how deep inside you he’s going to reach (hint: it’s deep)

Not only is Simon big but he’s strong, meaning one of his favorite positions to fuck you is hoisting you in the air and bouncing you on him

Missionary/mating press can be dangerous because there’s a genuine risk of you getting smothered by his massive chest :(

In a similar vein, good luck trying to kiss this man while you’re having sex because your mouths are nowhere near each other regardless of your position

On more than one occasion, you’ve had to lie to your coworkers/family about the reason you lost your voice. It’s not because you’re sick like you’d said, but rather because your boyfriend had battered the back of your throat with his dick the night before

Truly, there’s no prettier sight in the world to Simon than when you’re lying beneath him, your hands clawing at the bedsheets, little tears sliding down your cheeks as his big cock stretches your pussy open 🥰

[szasfuckingwife]

“Yuji, get your ass over here!” Sukuna yells. His nephew is spending some of summer break with him and he can’t for the life of him understand why he doesn’t clean up. I mean, it’s his apartment.

The teenager grumbles out of the guest room (practically his room) and rubs his eye, “Uncle, you can’t just yell at me when I’m sleeping…”

Sukuna points to the scattered dishes and opened packs of ramen on the counter, “Felt peckish last night?”

Yuji shrugs, “You said to make myself comfortable.”

His uncle has never been so provoked to hit a teen in his life. Forget the takeaway meals and home-cooked meals Sukuna had fed the boy. Because apparently, instant noodles from the corner shop tasted better, “Yuji, you didn’t even clean up. God, my girlfriend’s coming in like twenty minutes and now the place is a mess…”

“Y/N’s coming?” Yuji suddenly fixed his posture and stood up. “Like now?”

Sukuna’s brow raised at how his nephew immediately went into the bathroom to brush his teeth and shower. And how when he came out, he put on his best casual fit and used some of HIS cologne, that was way too expensive for Yuji to use.

Sukuna couldn’t even get into the shower as quickly as he wanted to because he was trying to scrub the burnt pot that Yuji used.

That boy can’t cook a thing, Sukuna thought.

But just then, three knocks came from the door. Sukuna knew it was you because even after giving you his apartment key, you still choose to knock. Yuji raced to the door and opened it.

“Hi, Y/N!” He grinned.

“Oh, hi! I didn’t know you were staying over. Your uncle didn’t mention anything..” You scowled at Sukuna causing your boyfriend to roll his eyes.

Sukuna gave you a chaste kiss before sitting you up on the countertop, “Please try use your influence to make him be more tidy.”

“You’re such a mom, Sukuna..” You chuckle, “He’s just a teenager. You were probably the same, giving your brother the same flak.”

He rolls his eyes once more, “When we have a kid, they’re not turning out like that. They’ll be neat, respectable people.

Your cheeks grow warm as you note down how he said ‘when’ instead of ‘if’. “He’s not that bad, Kuna…”

Sukuna only dead panned you before asking if you want anything for breakfast. Before you could answer, Yuji loudly yelled, “Choso said he’s coming for breakfast too! Should I call my dad to come?”

“NO!” Sukuna responded.

[thewispsings]

PR nightmare | oscar piastri

paring: oscar piastri x singer!reader

summary: y/n is considered a pr nightmare. let’s watch her get into her first relationship.

notes: yet another repost from my old account, i tired to make it exactly the same, enjoy!

— y/n has posted new pictures!

liked by mclaren, f1, yourbrother, and 737,938 others!

yoursername: my manger told me to tell you guys that the illuminati is NOT real and i was just joshing around !! 😂👍👍😂

view comments below!

user1: ugh this is SO BELIEVABLE

user2: | WAS WAITING FOR THIS POST

user3: yeah let's all ignore the "i wrote songs about an f1 driver!!!!"

user4: the pictures 😭

yourmomsuser: pic credits?

yoursername: you're like 60 why do you know what pic credits are ??

user5: the illuminati is totally real 🙄

mclaren: 👀

yourusername: NO THIS IS SO EMBARRASSING PLS LOOK AWAY

user6: no offense, but how did you stumble across F2 oscar???

yourusername: my brother is like a HUGE f1, 2, AND 3 nerd and he always forces me to watch races with him 😣

yourbrothersuser: you literally ask me to tell you when oscar's back on the screen???

yourusername: okay kill yourself????

yourbrothersuser: @/yourmomsuser

yourusername: GOD YOU ARE SUCH A SNITCH

ynupdates: y/n and her brother; jacob, were seen at the airport earlier today, she later posted the picture on the right, on her story, confirming that she is in fact traveling. y/n has no shows coming up, and she rarely travels with jacob. thoughts?

view comments below!

user7: guys guys..the monaco grand prix in literally in two days.

user8: SHES GOING TO THE GRAND PRIX. I KNOW IT.

user9: why's her brother kinda??

user10: you can't even see his face 😭😭?

user9: I CAN JUST TELL

user11: everyone saying she's going to the grand prix are like getting my hopes up??????

user12: WATCH HER GO SOMEWHERE COMPLETELY DIFFERENT 😭

user13: okay guys..but we never talked about what songs could be about oscar

user14: IVE DONE SO MUCH THINK ABOUT THIS!!!

user13: GIRL PLEASE TELL

user14: OKAY OKAY!! one that REALLY stands out to me is "my love mine all mine" because, we all know y/n has never had a boyfriend before, SO when she writes love songs, obviously people speculate that she's in a relationship

user14: WHEN SHE WAS ASKED ABOUT THE INSPIRATION FOR "my love mine all mine" she said "i sadly do not have a boyfriend yet. but there is someone i've had my eye on for some time." SHE COULD HAVE BEEN TALKING ABOUT OSCAR AND WE DIDNT EVEN NOTICE

user15: istg if y/n doesn't show up in the paddock tomorrow, i will throw a fit.

liked by mclaren, f1, yourbrother, and 837,938 others!

yourusername: i could tell you where i am and what im doing, but its funny reading the theories

view comments below !

user15: are you going to a secret illuminati meeting user16: pls y/n pls just tell us

user17: this is cruel AND YOU KNOW IT

user18: pls lord, let y/n go to the monaco grand prix🙏🙏

user19: there's no way she ISNT going to the grand prix, i mean she's with her brother, and he's literally like the biggest f1 fan ever?? why else would they be traveling together

user20: maybe they're traveling together because they're siblings😭😭 ?? it doesn't have to connect to f1

yourbrothersuser: y/n pls put the phone down. i need a good nights rest for tomorrow.

user21: TOMORROW ???? IS ??? THE ???? GRAND ??? PRIX ??? ARE ???? YOU ??? GUYS ???? GOING ????

ynupdates: it seems like the rumors are true! y/n and jacob are currently at the grand prix!

view comments below!

user 22: 1 FUCKING KNEW IT

user23: everyone knew it...

user24: WHOO CAREEESSS oscar and y/n interaction WHEN ???

user25: ugh i NEED grid x y/n interactions RN

user26: y/n this, oscar that. WHAT I NEED IS TO SEE Y/NS BROTHER MEET MAX

user27: omg can you imagine how happy he is rn

— mclaren has posted new photos!

liked by yourusername, f1, yourbrother, landonorris, oscarpiastri and 837,938 others!

mclaren: monaco was a dream! thank you y/n for joining us view comments below!

view comments below!

user28: 1 SHOULVE BEEN THERE. I COULDVE METY/N. THAT SHOULDVE BEEN ME.

yourusername: thank you for having me🧡

user29: okay now make oscar and y/n kiss

yourbrothersuser: thank you for making my dream come true 🙏🙏

redbullracing: @/yourusername our garage next

yourusername: i think @/yourbrothersuser would enjoy that more then i ever could

redbullracing: he's always welcome to join 💙

yourbrothersuser: AHHHHHH OMG OMG

user30: okay now more grid x y/n content

user31: the way this became like a meet and greet for y/n was INSANE

user32: who would've thought there would be so many y/n fans at a F1 race??

user33: everyone's a y/n l/n fan.

— y/n has posted new photos!

liked by, mclaren, landonorris, oscarpiastri 763,928 others!

yourusername: do you think he'll try weed with me now that he's my boyfriend?

view comments below !

user34: EXCUSE ME BOYFRIEND???

user35: OMG Y/N GOT HER FIRST BOYFRIEND!! АННННН

user36: OSCAR AND Y/N??? HELL YEAH

user37: okay let's just pretend that doesn't say what it says 😭

yourmanger: y/n please change that caption.

yourusername: i don't know how ☹️

user38: WHO CARES ABOUT THE CAPTION!!! Y/N AND OSCAR SHIPPERS RISE

mclaren: in case that caption isn't a joke, y/n please refrain from getting our drivers high.

yourusername: YOU GUYS ARE NO FUNN

user39: i love how public y/n is. like she genuinely acts like she doesn't have millions of followers

oscarpiastri: love i already told you, we cant get high.

yourusername: YOU WOULD IF YOU LOVED ME.

maxverstappen1: i'll get high with you y/n 🙋‍♂️

redbullracing: no you will not.