#sweet skittles posting

[skittles-the-whumpee]

Left to die...

TW: blood, implied death, implied captivity

"Oh...you thought I was going to keep you forever? Stupid mutt...when did I ever say that?" My first bit of whump art done with my brand-new tablet! I know I'll only get better as time goes on, so I'm gonna keep on creating! >:3c

[daviddelves]

A flashback to the cute ducks that swarmed me in attempts to steal my skittles 🦆🍬

Follow me on instagram if you like what you see and wanna see more!!!

Instagram - @thegaypolyglot

[apatheticlexicographer]

ok so over the past 24 hours or so there has been Quite A Lot of drama, and while i’ve mostly been watching from discord, i think there’s a base misconception here in terms of what a lot of people are saying and i want to clear it up.

there’s been discussion about whether or not it’s appropriate for adults to talk to minors. putting aside my own feelings on the matter and the fact that i personally find it rather condescending for people less than a decade older than me to talk about people my age as if we’re ignorant children, i think the folks saying that it’s weird mean well but lack context.

for those who don’t know, the specific buzzword situation of today/yesterday centers around @officialrobinbuckley and they fact that several minors from the skittles squad server call her “mom”. firstly, the “mom” thing is an in joke, and a pretty common type at that. she’s the admin of the server, so she’s a “responsible adult” figure. that’s it. that’s why some of us call her “mom”. secondly, the controversy was started by anon asks sent by somebody who, upon inspection of their blog, turned out to be an Actual P3do pretty clearly trying to frame vry to cover their own ass.

yes, vry is 27 years old, it was her birthday recently. yes, she’s on a server with quite a lot of minors. what i think people aren’t realizing is that:

1- about half the server members are also adults. vry isn’t even the oldest there.

2- vry was one of the first members of the server, and literally one of the first things she said was to check if it was okay that she was an adult. she interacts on the server in the same way as every other member, minor or adult. as i was also one of the first members, i can vouch for the fact that she’s never once said or done anything “weird” or “creepy”. if your argument to that is that i’m too young to know, then unless you personally know vry and have observed concrete behaviour that you find morally suspect all you’re saying is that you don’t respect the emotional maturity of myself or any other minors on the server.

3- discord servers with both minors and adults are the norm for any fandom server that isn’t clearly marked as 18+. i’m on a fair few discord servers from other fandoms and there are several people i talk to who are vry’s age and older. none of them are weird either. an adult existing in a space alongside minors doesn’t automatically make them a p3dophile. me having a conversation with somebody in their late 20s about a fanfic doesn’t mean i’m getting gr0omed.

she didn’t join a server full of children and try to make them befriend her. she joined a server, became an admin because she’s responsible, and has continued to do nothing other than message normally.

(also, if i may be so bold, 27 is not that old. it’s barely more than a quarter of a lifespan. saying “they’re more than a decade older than you!!!” as if it’s some unholy horror is kind of amusing to me honestly. if a 20 year old and a 30 year old were friends, would you have an issue??? what about an 18 year old and a 28 year old??? where do you draw the line???)

can we all just take a moment to remember the june-era byler tag, where we were all so happy about the fact that there were so many adults in the fandom who were respectful to both underaged characters and the real life minors in the community??? and how they were like the “cool gay aunts/uncles/therapists” of the tag??? it’s important to acknowledge and call out when there are ACTUAL p3dos in the community but turning the same suspicion and aggression on people who have proven for months that they are just regular upstanding citizens of the byler nation is not it. let’s not turn this into a witch hunt, please.

anyway, i’m not mad at anyone except the person who started this whole harassment campaign and the pr0shippers who subsequently crawled out of the woodwork. the rest of you clearly have only the best intentions and i appreciate it, but your concern is truly misfounded.

[sleepiexx]

more james x reader PLSSS so good.

maybe even james x fem Slytherin reader

<3

Concussions ‘n Confessions

James Potter x fem!Slytherin Reader

Note: no Voldemort au so you’re besties with the skittles :)

Summary: James quickly realizes his feelings for you— shortly after you’re struck directly in the head with a bludger.

Warnings: Barty beats someone up, mild swearing, corny “hurt her and you die,” line lol

Word count: 2914

Were it any other chaser from any other team, James would have been jumping for joy that a bludger he’d dodged had flew straight past him, nailing an offending chaser right in the head and leaving a rival quidditch team down one player. Hell, it was Slytherin who was down one, bloody Slytherin! But James couldn’t bring himself to be happy, not when that ‘offending chaser’ was none other than poor, sweet you.

You and James met at precisely six o’clock in the morning on the first day of your sixth year, you just tried out and made the Slytherin team after finally succumbing to years of your friends begging you to join and put your flying skills to good use. Despite your initial hesitance towards the sport, you were on the team now, and with your overachieving nature, you had no choice but to practice hard and impress at your first game.

James was on the pitch at that time because he always was. No one else came at six in the morning, so he had the entire arena to himself to practice flying and shooting the quaffle. That was, of course, until the day you came along.

He’d groaned internally when he spotted a green robe in the sky, the last thing he wanted was to have to fight with a Slytherin over the use of the quidditch pitch when all he wanted to do was practice. He mounted his broom and flew towards the figure.

“Hey!” He yelled, startling you. You turned around with a shocked face but smiled once you realized it was just another student come to practice. “How long are you planning on using the pitch?” He asked, a little off-put by the smile you still had on your face despite his red and gold garb.

“I’m planning on staying till lunch, but there’s an extra quaffle down there so we can share the pitch if you’re up for it!”

James had to physically stop his jaw from dropping. You were so nice. What about house rivalry? What happened to the sentiment that all Slytherins were evil?

Maybe you just wanted to watch him practice to steal Gryffindor strategies. Yeah, that was it. No other possible way, Slytherin found out that James Potter practices early and sent out pretty little you to gather information. They had to have known a girl with a face as sweet as yours and an attitude to match was his ultimate weakness.

Regardless, he came out here to practice. He flew down to where you had pointed, where there was, in fact, an extra quaffle. Slytherin had prepared well.

He supposed pace would need to be the main focus of his practice today, you couldn’t watch his strategies if he was moving too fast for you to see. So he whizzed around on his broomstick, shooting goal after goal, curiously looking over his shoulder every once in a while. To his surprise, your focus remained on your own goal post. He sat mesmerized, watching you rehearse.

You weren’t bad, having a talent for the sport that James could tell was natural. You were new, that was clear, not just because James hadn’t seen you on the Slytherin team before, but also because of your lack of confidence. You were hesitating, and if you could just get past that barrier, he knew you would do great.

Screw it. What’s the harm in helping your rival team? If they’re not any good then there’s no glory in beating them at all.

Before he knew it, James found himself flying towards you, stopping a short distance behind you.

“What’s your name?” He asked, half expecting you to startle, as you had before.

You turned your broom gracefully this time, “I’m y/n l/n, you?”

“James Potter. You’re new to the team?”

“You could tell?” Your shoulders sunk, a frustrated pout made its way to your lips.

James' heart dropped, he hadn’t meant to call you out, “no, no it’s not like that. It’s just, well I’m Gryffindor’s captain so I know everyone on every team and I haven’t seen you before.”

You half believed him, still feeling a little insecure but nodding regardless, “yeah, I uhm, haven’t played since I was a kid but I like flying so my friends kinda peer pressured me into joining. I’m trying really hard not to let them down.”

James scoffed, “from what I’ve seen, I doubt you could let them down. But I could give you a pointer or two if you’d like.”

“Would you?”

He nodded in response and you smiled wide.

So began James Potter’s mentorship over you. He’d helped you and even practiced alongside you most mornings. The day of your first game, James was in the stands cheering you on. He had never watched a school quidditch game from the stands, but he found himself giddy watching you absolutely destroy Ravenclaw.

For the first time in his life, he cheered for Slytherin at every game— save for his own against you. Even those, he found, were rather enjoyable because the conclusion he’d originally come to was right, having a harder opponent is much more fun. The stakes were higher and James loved a good thrill.

He loved this arrangement, and he was having so much fun playing against you. Right up until the moment he dodged that stupid bloody bludger that Avery sent hurtling towards him, the lack of interruption leaving it right in the course of your head.

The crack of the ball hitting your head followed by the thud of you falling to the ground was deafening. He sprung into action instantly, shooting towards you and assessing your injuries. You were still half conscious, blinking up at him in pain.

“James?” You asked, voice strained.

“I’m here, love, I’m here. Madam Pomfrey will be here any moment to fix you up.” He held your hand, knowing how badly your head must hurt from taking one of Avery’s notoriously hard bludgers and then free falling from high enough in the sky that muggle medicine likely couldn’t fix the damage to. The whole school was lucky they weren’t resigned to muggle medicine, for Madame Pomfrey’s skills surpassed them leaps and bounds. “Squeeze my hand.”

And you did, a weak grasp that felt so strong to you. James panicked as it loosened even more and your eyes fluttered shut. Madame Pomfrey and some other professors came around with a stretcher, taking you away and leaving James pale in the face. That was the last he had seen of you in a while.

James had tried, on numerous occasions, to visit you in the infirmary with flowers, but he soon found out that your bubbly personality had earned you many friends— many overprotective and scary friends, to specify. Each time he was met with a different one of your Slytherin friends guarding the door as though you had an army of enemies on their way to get you. More realistically, they kept the noise in the hallway down. Protecting you not from armies, but from boisterous students whose loud noise would only worsen your ongoing headaches.

Many first years found out first hand how dedicated they were to protecting the peace, being hexed green after multiple warnings to quiet down. James couldn’t blame them, of course, he would likely do the same were you his to claim, alas, he’d yet to confess his recently realized love for you.

This meant that to your friends, he was nothing more than a threat to the silence you needed. So every time he visited, he was immediately shot down and threatened until he would eventually leave.

He thought he would outsmart your friends, sneak to the infirmary well after visiting hours, hidden under his invisibility cloak. Still, your prefect friend Evan Rosier was sat up against the door, asleep but propped up in a way that anyone entering the room would have to wake him before doing so. Dejected, James turned around and marched back to his dorm room.

The next evening as Remus and Lily rested on the common room couch, quietly reading next to one another whilst Peter laid on the floor, James barged into the common room and disrupted their peace.

James’ eyes met Remus’s and he instantly set his course toward the brunette, stepping over their other friend in the process. “Where is Sirius?” He demanded.

Remus scoffed, “what, no hello? How are you?”

“Or an ‘excuse me Wormtail’?” Peter chimed in.

James shook his head, “no, there’s no time, where is Sirius?”

Remus saw no point in arguing, sighing, “I believe he’s upstairs, combing his hair 152 times on either side.”

James had darted away the moment Remus said Sirius was upstairs, missing the joke and making Remus sigh once more.

“I thought the joke was funny.” Peter comforted.

“Thanks Wormy.”

Much akin to his grand entrance in the common room, James slammed the door to their dorm open. “Padfoot!” He exclaimed.

Sirius, who was seated on the floor— in fact brushing his hair— smiled and turned to his curly headed friend, “what is it you need my dear Prongsy?”

James only met his enthusiasm with desperation. He fell to his knees and placed his palms on either of Sirius’s shoulders, “Regulus is guarding the infirmary right now, you have to convince him to let me in.”

Sirius tried to talk but James cut him off, “Please, mate, I really need to see her and this is my one chance seeing as your brother is guarding her rather than the usual blokes who don’t care at all about my rapport with y/n. We could actually convince him! And before you say no, I’m prepared to do all your charms homework for the next two weeks, just do this one thing for me please, I beg.”

Sirius cracked a grin as James shook his shoulders, “I was going to say yes from the moment you asked, but now that I know there’s charms homework involved, I’ll hold you to it.”

James matched his expression, springing to his feet, pulling Sirius with him. “Alright, I have no idea how long he’ll be the one there so we have to hurry.”

Sirius nodded and they scurried down past the common room, through the portrait hole, and down the halls towards the infirmary.

They stopped at the turn to the infirmary, peeking around the corner to scope it out. Regulus was still there, conjuring silent illusions of rabbits hopping down the hall to fight his readily apparent boredom.

Sirius turned to James, “alright, here’s what’s going to happen: I don’t know for sure if I can convince good ol’ Reggie to let you in, but I do know that I can distract him, so while I do that, you’re going to conjure up some flowers, and when the coast looks clear you are going to rush on in there and you are going to charm the socks off this girl with your devilishly good looks and amazing personality and then you will ask her to be your girlfriend like you’ve always wanted. Got that?”

James nodded solemnly, so Sirius turned and walked casually over to his little brother. The last thing James heard was a “hello sweet, sweet brother of mine” before he focused on getting himself ready.

He conjured some flowers as Sirius had suggested; daisies, he remembered to be your favorite. As the sound of Sirius and Regulus faded down the hall, James took it as his chance to make his break towards you.

Even in the dimmed infirmary, dazed and sore, in a concussed state, you still managed to make James Potter stumble. He forgot where he was and what he was doing the moment your beautiful eyes met his.

“James?” You called out, breaking the boy out of his trance.

“Oh, yes. Hi.” He smiled and waved.

You smiled back, glancing at the flowers in his hands. The action reminded him very suddenly of the task at hand. He rushed to your bedside and held them out toward you, “these are for you.”

You took them, leaning down and smelling the sweet scent. “Thank you, daisies are-”

“Your favorite,” James interjected, “I remember, I knew I couldn’t give you any less than the best since you’re in here because of me.”

You scoffed, “you didn’t put me here.”

He shook his head, “had I not dodged that bludger, you would be fine.”

“I’d say that I don’t blame you but I know you’d just think I was being nice so let me explain it like this: if anyone believed that it was your fault I got hurt, Barty would’ve beaten the shit out of you instead of Avery.”

James’ eyes widened, “that’s what happened to him? Bloody hell, I thought a stray badger had wandered into the castle and attacked him the way he looks.”

“That bad?” You asked, “I only saw Barty’s bloody knuckles from the aftermath, now I’m not so sure that was entirely his blood.”

The two of you laughed softly, smiling when you caught each other’s eyes.

“The flowers aren’t the only reason I’m in here, though.” James said, brushing some hair out of your face.

“Oh?” You prompted him to continue.

He’s clear with his words, “I’ve had this thing for you for a while now, I just haven’t known it. I suppose watching you get hurt like that made me come to that realization, and now that I know, I can’t stand the idea that you don’t know so I guess this is me confessing.”

“You’re into me?” You asked.

James nodded.

Your lips quirked up into a large grin, “holy shit, I should get hit in the head more often this is the best news,” you quietly exclaimed.

James’ expression mirrored your own, “so you feel the same?”

You nodded.

“Well, then I’d like to take you out. And to be your boyfriend, if you’d let me.”

You nodded once more, “I would.”

Everything felt right, you’d both finally aired out your feelings, and you were still all alone in the room so what else would you do but begin leaning in. Your lips nearly touched before the door to the infirmary burst open, James’ long haired friend running towards the both of you in desperation.

“Help me, you have to help me!” He called out.

You winced at the noise, turning to look at James to see if he knew what was going on, he was just as clueless. That is until one Mister Barty Crouch Junior came in, wand raised and ready for use.

“I’ll show you to distract our lookout!” He screamed, a murderous look in his eyes.

Your head throbbed.

Regulus sauntered in soon after, seemingly unbothered. You looked at him confusedly but he merely shrugged.

“Barty.” You said, trying and failing to get his attention as he continued to chase Sirius around the room, “Barty!”

He turned to you.

“Please don’t make me raise my voice again, it hurts.” You whined.

Barty’s face dropped, a guilty look overtaking him.

With that out of the way, you spoke again, “I think Sirius was just trying to help Jamie bring me some flowers.”

“Jamie?” Barty murmured, looking to Regulus to find that he was just as confused.

You wince as you hear Barty’s heavy boots stomping towards you. “Oh dear,” you mutter, “he’s, uhm-“ you try to explain, but you were cut off.

“Your boyfriend?” It’s Regulus who asks, voice impossibly quiet.

You would nod, but moving your head feels like a hazard so you psych yourself up just to say “yeah.”

Barty’s eyes burn with an anger you’ve seen before many times, of all of your overprotective friends, Barty is the worst. It couldn’t possibly help that James is a Gryffindor, not when Barty believes in house rivalry like it’s the Bible.

Barty grabs James by the collar, “I do not like this, nor do I condone it, however, y/n makes her own decisions and I cannot make them for her— regardless of whether or not they are stupid decisions. That being said, you hurt her and you will find your face in worse condition than a bloody troll, understand me?”

James nodded and Barty released his collar, straightening it up, and huffing off elsewhere, taking Regulus with him. Sirius follows suit, if only to give the two of you some much needed privacy.

“Salazar, I thought he was going to kill you,” you breathed out, finally exhaling the breath you were holding the entire time.

James chuckles, taking hold of your hand once more, “just to be clear, love, I would treat you right regardless of there being a threat in place.”

“Well that’s good to hear because you have such a handsome face, I couldn’t bear seeing it bloodied up.” You raised your hand to caress his cheek in emphasis.

An impulsive thought led you to ignore the pounding in your head that came with quick movements, taking your chance to touch your lips to his. You were glad that your friends had left, because the kiss was so nice, you didn’t want it to end. You knew their childish groans would ruin it. But with no interruption, you stayed in the moment for what felt like forever, allowing yourself to bask in the simple joy that was the captain of your rival quidditch team’s lips against your own.

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

edit cus tumblr tweaked out n posted the unfinished draft smh.

sitting in the bus with your fifteen minute now ex boyfriend was not something you expected to happen when you’d gotten ready for your date this morning.

you’re sitting as far away from his as possible, or at least as far as he’ll let you go. because of course shouto todoroki just couldn’t let you have one moment without flashing you his sweet little puppy eyes and kissable little pouted lips, three seats away from you.

your face is practically smushed against the window, intently keeping your eyes fixed on the green grass turning dark with rain while you try to keep your eyes dry. you wonder if it’s your fault, if you did something.

more people start coming in, trying to find shelter from the rain. the more people come in the louder it gets, they’re so loud, he’s so loud. he isn’t doing anything but staring at you, but it’s so intense it almost sounds loud. you feel it in the beat of your ears and the beat of your heart, you focus on the rain droplets bouncing off the pavement outside to desperately keep from crying.

you know shouto doesn’t have to take the bus, his dad could probably get someone to pick him up, he’d only made it a habit of taking the bus with you so you could spend more time together. you think maybe he shouldn’t have, it’s his fault, he spent more time with you then he should’ve and somehow that brought him to sit you down on a random park bench, grip on your hand still firm as he told you he thinks it’d be better if you didn’t see each other anymore.

as if you could just stop seeing him, fucking idiot. you’re in the same class, have the same friends, you see him in your favorite manga and the website you read your early leaks on that you shared with him, you see him in your notes because he’d write them down for you when you were sick to bring them to your dorm, you see him in your favorite snacks because you make it a habit of having him guess the flavor of the skittles you’re sharing.

seriously, what a moron. who does he think he is, the love of your life ?!

well, you sure thought he was.

you can’t bear it anymore, this feels like actual torture and you could honestly give less of a shit about how dramatic you sounded. this is unbearable, it’s suffocating feeling those deep colored eyes constantly on you, reaching out and begging and pleading for something you cannot and will not give more of to him.

this isn’t your stop, but it’s close. you can walk the rest of the way. screw the rain and screw him.

you quietly apologize to the people you’re pushing past, though they can barely hear you as you try to keep your wobbly voice even. when you pass by a group of people the start hissing and murmuring behind you and you think you weren’t being loud enough until you realize that of course he’d followed you off as soon as you got off. ever uncaring of the people around him except you know that’s not true. you know shouto cares, he’s kind, but you thought he cared about you and he apparently didn’t, so you trudge forwards with teeth clenched and hands tightened into fists. to desperately keep from crying.

why does he care so much, why did he follow you in the bus and now out of it ? couldn’t he just let you be alone ?? he’s the one who broke it off.

but you’re sure you’re the one who did something, how could he have ? your shouto’s perfect, the sweetest boy in the whole word. teeth clenched tighter and tighter, to keep from crying.

he calls for you, and then again louder over the rain, he won’t let you drown him out. of course he won’t. not when he calls for you again, a cool hand wrapping around your wrist this time. you want to melt despite the chill, but instead you boil ripping your hand out of his grip.

“just go home ! why’d you follow me out here ?!” his eyes are wide and so sad, you’d never raised your voice at him before even during your rare arguments.

“this isn’t your stop..” he tries to reason, voice quietly drifting through the air, the rain hits the pavement and his hair is getting wetter. he’s so handsome, he always is. you want to kiss him and you hate yourself for it.

“yeah, i noticed that too. did that on purpose if you couldn’t tell, which you obviously didn’t.” you’re being mean, you’re spitting everything at him to get him to just fuck off. but of course he won’t, because your shouto is kind. and he reaches out for you again only for you to back away from him.

“i’m sorry.”

“just leave me alone ! why can’t you just leave me alone ?!” you ask him and yourself and anyone who’s listening. you sob when he slowly, ever so softly wraps his arms around you and you push at him and push and push and push him away but he never backs off, he never leaves you alone. not when he’s everywhere. with the smell of his cologne and the softness of his lips on your forehead and the softness of his clothes as he pleads, he’s so sorry he says. but you don’t know why. he’s the one who broke it off right ?

“is it me ?” you whimper, he immediately shushes you but you continue “was it something i did ?”

“no, no it’s not you—it could never be you, love.” his voice is even, or it’s trying to be, you can tell he’s having a hard time with how tightly he’s holding onto you. like you won’t hear him out if he doesn’t keep you close, it’s funny because you’d hear him out even if he was trying to convince you the earth was shaped like a rectangle, hilarious even.

your heart bleeds for him, despite it being his fault your heart is hurting in the first place.

"it's just…better that way" is what he'd managed to spit out. "but listen—look at me." he grabs your cheeks, pulling your face up to look into his unwavering pretty bicolored eyes. he presses the sweetest, gentlest kiss to your lips, you don't think anyone would love you enough to kiss you like this ever again, and the tears keep flowing because you don't think you'd want to be loved like this by anyone other than him. and it makes you press back against him when he kisses you again, and again

" i love you, i do. and it's not you." he reaffirms again, because he knows you're thinking about it

"it isn't you. i love you, angel." he babbles over and over against your lips. "you know i love you, yeah ?" and you want to say you don't, but the shine in his wet eyes tells you everything you already knew, and you kiss him again, and again. his hands, cooling and so invitingly warm still firm against your cheeks.

[fortunxa]

Fourteen days

[sequel to ‘Blue hair, blue eyes, blue lights’]

Jinx x fem!reader / modern AU

summary: They say the longer the wait, the sweeter the kiss. But, darling, I’m starving, so don’t keep me guessing.

cw: around 4k words but could be mediocre, mild nsfw

author’s note: I’m alive! Sorry for the delay in posting, I’ve been hustling :( But here’s the awaited sequel, so buckle up ;)

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“Uno, motherfucker!”

Jinx is… competitive, to say the least. As of right now, we’re lying on my bed, legs tangled, and playing UNO while it’s pouring outside. It’s well past midnight, and I stopped trying to shush her victory cheers after the second round. She has a way of making her presence known and commanding your attention, but truthfully, she isn’t hard to miss anyway. Every aspect of her exudes an unapologetic ‘Look at me!’ aura—from her infectious laughter to her bold fashion sense. Even her braids have a life of their own, swirling and swaying with every step she takes. She’s unforgettable.

But I’ve come to discover a more delicate side of her in her most vulnerable moments. It’s almost like she transforms into a different person, both in terms of her personality and, surprisingly, her appearance. Her features become softer, more child-like, her eyes wide and innocent. The way she effortlessly switches from one persona to the other is impressive to witness. On the flip side, she has a tendency to become obsessive and possessive, which resulted in us spending almost every waking moment together. You may call me crazy, but it makes me feel needed. Ultimately, isn’t that what we all want?

These are just a few of the observations I’ve made about her in the past two weeks. My mind’s file on her is growing exponentially, tucking away every information I learn about her in a safe place—from her preference for orange juice but hate for oranges to her strained relationship with her older sister, which makes my room the designated hangout spot whenever we’re stuck inside. Jinx is a complex person with many layers, and while I can’t claim to know everything about her just yet, I do feel like I have built a stable foundation of understanding what makes her unique. I certainly know enough to start falling for her.

“Alright, alright, you win. Again,” I say with a small smile playing on my lips and twenty cards in my hands. My phone is buzzing beside me—probably another message from my mom asking us to be quieter—and I ignore it. I still remember her face when she asked us how we met, and Jinx jumped up, telling her all about the police chase, earning a nudge in the ribs from me. It’s a miracle she still lets us hang out, but with the number of times the blue-haired girl sneaked in through my window, I don’t think it would’ve changed much if she didn’t.

I feel a yawn building up, but before it reaches the surface, I’m pinned against my bed. “And what do I get for winning?” Jinx teases as she straddles my hips, and I certainly feel awake now. Another thing that I learned about her is how touchy she gets, but it still catches me off-guard at times. My heart rate quickens, and I’m sure she feels it pulsating through my wrists. She smirks at my dumbfounded expression and lowers herself even more, brushing her nose against mine. “Cat got your tongue?”

This proximity between us takes me back to the night we met when we almost shared a kiss. Fucking almost. Although I’m familiar with many aspects of her, I’m still a stranger to the way she tastes. Is it sweet like the Skittles she keeps stealing from me or, on the contrary, sour like the Warheads? Perhaps it carries the freshness of her toothpaste or the fruity allure of her cherry-flavored chapstick. I need an answer to the question that’s been consuming my thoughts as of late, and I need it now.

Just when I’m about to get it, my phone buzzes again, and—you guessed it—Jinx pulls away and casually snatches it off the bed, reading the message. I feel like I’m about to explode.

“Aw, why didn’t you tell me that we woke your mom up?” she innocently asks as I stare at the ceiling with a blank look. I suddenly feel self-conscious. Maybe I was misunderstanding our connection since the beginning. Maybe she never wanted us to take it further. And maybe this is another thing that I need to learn about her—she’s just flirty, and there’s no ulterior motive behind her actions. How fucking stupid was I to think otherwise? I’d be fine if she wanted to stay friends, but this whole teasing is starting to make me feel like a toy. I need clarity.

“I guess I was too focused on our game,” I finally mutter as a reply, putting the UNO deck away before standing up to grab us two fresh pairs of pj’s. When I turn to face her again, she’s already watching me with a worried expression.

“You okay, toots?” I’m not. Jinx walks over, and her bare feet make a thumping sound across my carpet. She positions herself in front of me as her eyes analyze my demeanor, and I feel vulnerable under her scrutinizing gaze. I wonder if now’s the time to be open about my feelings, but as I take in her cerulean eyes—I stopped calling them blue as they’re so, so much more than that—I can’t bring myself to face the rejection.

My cowardice wins.

“I’m fine,” I say with a tight-lipped smile before presenting her with a nightshirt. She opens her mouth, presumably to push her investigation further, but decides against it. Her eyebrows knit together at the newfound awkwardness.

We change into our nightwear, and Jinx snuggles under the comforter while I head to turn off the lights. I remember her fear of the dark, and quickly turn on the nightlight, casting a soft pink glow across the room. I find myself wondering if she cares enough to remember the little things about me, too. I slide into bed alongside her, making sure to maintain a respectful distance between us. The air is filled with an uncharacteristic silence, broken only by the gentle patter of raindrops outside and our quiet breaths.

I flip on my side, my back toward Jinx as I try to fall asleep. I can sense her restless shuffling as she tries to find a comfortable position before she settles by wrapping her arms around my torso. She’s flush against me, and I let out a sigh—screw it. I turn around and face her before pulling her frame into my chest. Her grip tightens, and a shuddering breath escapes past her lips. I’m not a mind reader, but I know that the sudden sour mood brought her feelings of uneasiness, and a plethora of negative thoughts, igniting her own insecurities. I rest my cheek on top of her head and close my eyes. My hand finds its way into her hair, and I start massaging her scalp gently. When she finally relaxes, it doesn’t take long for me to hear her soft snores.

I don’t remember dozing off, but the morning light filtering through my window comes too early as I slowly flutter my eyes open. My eyelids feel heavy, and my bed is unexpectedly empty, fueling my disoriented state. I sit up groggily and rub the sleep from my face before scanning the room in hopes of catching a glimpse of Jinx, but she’s nowhere to be found.

Right as I’m about to sink into self-pity over her Irish goodbye, my bedroom door suddenly bursts open. I jump, and my tired eyes lock with her cheerful ones. I guess she never left after all.

“You’re finally awake! Good morning!” she exclaims with a radiant smile while skipping over to me, her slightly gapped teeth proudly on display. Her braids are tousled from sleep as she settles on the edge of the bed, presenting me with a plate of freshly made chocolate chip pancakes. “Made your favorite. And don’t worry, I already cleaned up,” she adds, and my heart swells as my eyes flicker between her and the breakfast she prepared. She does the same, a giddy smile on her face and her lower lip caught between her teeth. Yet, as I remain silent, her shoulders slump and the sparkle dims, replaced by a nervous fidgeting of her hands. “It’s okay if you don’t like–”

I interrupt her by pulling her into a tight embrace, expressing my gratitude. At first, Jinx is taken aback, but she soon returns the hug, burying her face into my neck. The scent of vanilla extract lingers in her hair—probably from messing with it during her cooking—and her skin radiates an unusual warmth, bringing a small smile to my face.

“Okay, trinket. Dig in and get some energy,” she says, pulling away as she walks over to my vanity mirror and starts unbraiding her hair. Well, don’t mind if I do. “It’s your college move-in day after all!” She giggles happily, and I almost choke at her words. It isn’t just move-in day; it’s my imaginary deadline of making her mine slowly ending. Despite my lack of progress, she has kept her word in showing me fun—however this friendship goes, I will be sure that I’ve felt alive at least once in my life.

“Shit, I forgot! What time is it?” I scramble to find my phone, which has been lost somewhere under the pillows. I leap to my feet, unsure of what to grab first as I start flailing around. “I still need to finish packing and–and load the boxes into the car, and I–”

“Woah, slow down!” Jinx grabs my shoulders and grounds me in the middle of the room. She takes a deep breath and urges me to mirror her actions. “What am I here for?” Her hands trail up my neck and rest on my jawline, leaving me breathless again. “Finish eating first, then we can worry about the rest. Capiche?” I nod, and she pats my cheek with a grin. “Good girl.”

I’m left flustered, and she resumes untangling her hair as if she didn’t just say the hottest shit I have ever heard in my life. I try to keep my cool and finish my breakfast, but my imagination is running wild with all the scenarios I could be a good girl in. I pick out some fresh clothes for the day, trying my best to act casual while my thoughts are anything but.

“I’m just going to freshen up. I’ll be back in a few,” I say and head to the bathroom, hoping that a cold shower would tame my heat. But, on the other hand, there’s a part of me that’s begging for her to join and do it for me.

She never does—obviously—but I come back with a clearer head. Jinx’s hair is now completely down, her vibrant blue waves cascading to the floor. I see her struggle to part it evenly and decide to step up.

“Here, let me help you,” I offer as I gently take the comb from her hands, carefully brushing out any leftover knots before dividing her hair into two even sections. As I work on the base of the first braid, I steal glances at her in the mirror’s reflection. Her eyes are closed, and she occasionally lets out content hums, seemingly lost in thought.

“For the record, toots,” she speaks up as she now deftly weaves the second braid with practiced fingers, “I don’t let just anyone touch my hair.” My brain is slowly putting the meaning behind her words together, and a smile tugs at my lips as realization dawns on me—I’m special. Despite my best efforts, I fail to conceal my grin. Jinx communicates a lot through body language, so when she explicitly says what’s on her mind, it stuns me a bit.

“So, I’m not just anyone, huh?” I tease and concentrate on finishing the braid.

“Clearly you’re my getaway driver,” she retorts with a smirk, and I nudge her shoulder.

Once we’re done working on her hair, we begin filling up the boxes and clearing out most of my room. It’s a mix of emotions knowing that I’m moving away, even if it's only temporary. But what really tugs at the strings of my heart is the thought of not being able to spend as much time with the blue-haired troublemaker. With my upcoming college schedule and her still torn between taking a gap year or not, the idea of our bond weakening is the most difficult part to imagine. If I’m lucky, perhaps life will allow our connection to endure and flourish.

“Sheesh, I don’t remember packing rocks. Did you?” Jinx huffs as she loads the last box into my car. I laugh and shut the trunk.

“It’s my books, dummy,” I reply and get behind the wheel as she takes the passenger seat.

“At least you’ll be too busy reading to hook up with anyone,” she mutters, connecting my phone to the car, and my cheeks flush. Totally normal thing to say to a friend.

The song Jinx chose is blasting through the speakers as I pull off. We fall silent, but I can see her bopping her head to the music through the corner of my eye, lost in her own world with her feet on the dashboard, which she had decorated ‘the Jinx way’ as she called it. Meanwhile, I’m filled with embarrassment as I realize that I haven’t even checked the released college roommate assignments. How awkward will it be if I introduce myself to my bunk buddy after moving in? On a scale of one to ten, I deem it a seven. I don’t even remember filling out the housing application, for fuck’s sake.

We’re halfway there when we decide to take a quick pit stop, and I pull over on a backroad underneath a row of trees. Jinx gets out of the car with an indecipherable expression, and I follow in confusion. I’m no stranger to her mood swings, but I still get concerned. She’s walking around in circles, kicking at the dirt and stray rocks caught in the crossfire of her boots. When I open my mouth to call out for her, she beats me to it.

“Can I talk to you about something, toots?” she asks as she whips around to face me. I simply nod, and she continues, “Somewhere private.” She climbs into the backseat as I look around the empty road. Doesn’t get much more private than this, but I digress. I shut the door behind me and get comfortable.

“So what did you–” I don’t have a chance to finish as she straddles my lap, and I get a sinking feeling in my stomach as I recall what happened the last time she did this—her teasing won’t stop unless I speak up, but when I take notice of the whirlwind of emotions flashing through her eyes, my hands subconsciously fall to her hips, tracing soothing circles on the soft skin. I realize I’d rather be stuck in limbo than lose her altogether.

“Is there something wrong with me?” Her question takes me by surprise, and my eyebrows shoot up. She squeezes my cheeks with one hand, turning my face upwards.

“W–what? Why would you think that?” I stutter as her gaze skims over my features.

“Why won’t you make a move already?” Her voice is wobbly, and I’m left speechless. My mouth opens and closes like a fish out of the water as I rack my brain for the right words.

“I wasn’t–I’m not sure if you want me to,” I finally reply, and she makes a face.

“Look at us, Y/N” –she gestures to our current position– “you’re a smart girl, don’t act clueless now.”

Realization hits me like a train. Jinx needs loyalty and devotion—she needs me to show her how much I want her. She wants to know that despite her complex character, I’ll stick around and fight for her. In retrospect, it all seems so simple and obvious.

“Jinx?” My voice is barely above a whisper as I look into her eyes. She can only hum in response. “I’m going to count to three, and then I’m going to kiss you.” Her grip on me loosens in surprise, and her wide eyes are blinking rapidly. “I’m giving you those three seconds to stop me if you change your mind.” She stays silent, and I begin my countdown.

1…

2…

3.

When I finally taste her, I realize how badly I’ve been starving.

My hands cannot bring her close enough to me as I snake my arm around her waist and rest my free hand on her jawline. I’m not holding back anymore. If she wants devotion, I’ll show her exactly that.

I’m furious—furious that I’d been denied this pleasure for so long, but my lips move against hers as if they’d already danced this way before. It’s effortless, like the gliding of a pen on paper from an inspired writer’s hand, and she’s the muse.

It’s not a gentle kiss, the way first ones usually go. It’s hungry, rough, and precisely what was needed to let out the pent-up tension. It’s swirling tongues, dripping saliva, and smudged lipsticks. Without ever pulling away, I carefully lay her on her back, and my fingers sink into the soft flesh of her thighs. Her colorful nails claw at my back, and I groan into her mouth, digging my hips into hers. We’re both breathing heavily through our noses, and my attention shifts to her neck by biting and sucking on the tender skin, letting my hands roam over her curves freely, mapping out her body.

A trail of hickeys is forming on her collarbone, and she’s a moaning and whimpering mess under my touch; it’s a blissful sight. She locks her slender legs around my hips and pulls me further into her, chasing more friction. Watching her become so needy thrills me even more, and my hand tentatively falls to her clothed crotch. Her jaw slacks in anticipation as my fingers ghost over the area where she needs me most, and her back arches into me in response. I want to watch her unravel beneath me, shaking limbs and sweat dripping from her temples.

But she’d teased me too many times for me to grant her this relief right now.

I relish the feeling of our closeness with one last peck and catch Jinx’s lower lip between my teeth, pulling on it slightly before letting go, earning a faint whine from her.

We’re both panting and trying to catch our breaths as I hover over her, my palms firmly planted on the seat on either side of her face, propping myself up. I can’t help but admire my work. Her cheeks are flushed, and her lips are puffy, her smudged plum lipstick matching the bruises on her neck—still, she’s absolutely beautiful. She watches me through half-hooded eyes with her pupils dilated, and I smirk at her breathlessness.

“Leaving me high and dry, trinket?” she asks, and her hands fall to my hips, trying to pull me back in.

“Call it payback,” I reply before hoisting her back into my lap, and she yelps in surprise.

Jinx grips my shoulders to steady herself, and I try my best to smooth out her disheveled hair. I start peppering sweet kisses to her bruised skin, and she lets her head fall back with a pleased sigh. I pull her back in so my lips can find hers once again. It’s much slower this time, grounding us in the moment, and there’s that delicate side of her peeking through with each swipe of her tongue. When I pull away and take notice of her peaceful state, I know it was all worth the wait. I caress her cheek with the back of my hand, and she leans into my touch.

“Do you have any idea how long I’ve craved this?” I whisper, and an amused glint flashes through her eyes.

“Two weeks isn’t that long.” She’s giggling now, and this sound alone is enough to bring a smile to my face.

“It is when you’re right in front of me, and I’m unable to touch you properly.” My thumb starts working on cleaning up her smudged lipstick, and her features soften as she mirrors my actions.

Sitting in the backseat with her feels like a full-circle moment. This is where it all began—a simple thrill-seeking witness turned getaway driver for a blue-haired menace.

Fourteen days.

It took me two weeks to make her mine.

I can’t help the dumb smile tugging on the corners of my mouth as I start driving again. Jinx’s head is on my lap, the same way it was the night we met, and she’s telling me which houses she’s planning on tagging next. The drive goes by quickly as we exchange our opinions on what the Montana spray paint smells like—I say cotton candy, she’s hellbent on bubblegum—and before we know it, I’m parking outside my future college.

“Oooh, look how fancy,” Jinx speaks up as she analyzes the building, and she’s absolutely right. The size itself is intimidating, and I can already see myself getting lost in the halls. The architecture looks modern with futuristic touches, and the campus is surrounded by grass and cherry blossom trees. If it wasn’t for my scholarship, I wouldn’t even dream of affording to study here. “Is now a good time to tell you that I’m your bunk buddy?”

I turn my head so quickly I almost give myself whiplash, and I stare at her as if she grew a second head in the last thirty seconds.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” I grab her arm in disbelief, and she shakes her head with a smile, her bottom lip tucked between her teeth.

“Surprise!” She laughs while I’m still processing her confession. “My mechanical engineering scholarship got accepted, so I filled out your housing application and requested myself. Then I filled out mine and requested you. I didn’t think it would work, but, holy shit, isn’t that awesome?”

Any sane person would feel violated by this. But me? I’m fucking delighted.

“You’re a gift that keeps on giving.” My hands cup her cheeks as I pull her in for a kiss, the excitement getting the best of me. One kiss turns into two, then three, and before I know it, I’m peppering her whole face in them as she laughs. When she finally settles, there’s a mischievous glint in her eyes.

“Wanna test out the beds?”

[chrisevansonly]

Daddy Daughter Time (Lando & Poppy Universe)

ʚ lando norris x female reader

ʚ when the sun sets and you’re settled in bed with your favourite cup of tea and tv show, lando has what he likes to call ‘daddy-daughter time’

ʚ very fluffy sweet dad to be lando, lando being sassy as usual

ʚ i lied here’s a little pre poppy blurb for you guys, i wanted to get something out since you’re all so sweet to me and this idea has been stuck in my head

Your favourite show of the moment right now Suits, played softly through the speakers and surround sound system from the TV that rested on the wall in front of your bed. A post shower routine of getting comfy, rubbing the sweet peach scented body oil on your belly as your little girl kicked and moved about.

At almost 7 months pregnant, Lando was obsessed with you, and that belly, ever since it popped all those months ago, he was so irrevocably in love with you, and his little girl.

“Guess what time it is!!” Came his voice from the hallway, causing you to bite back a smile

“Snack time?”

“Ha ha no.”

“I’m sorry what was that Norris?”

Lando then poked his head through the door, if there was one thing he learned it was never ever mess with a pregnant woman; especially if that pregnant woman was his wife.

“Just kidding, I have all sorts of snacks for you my love!”

“That’s what I thought”

You watched as he entered the room with a tray of snacks, wide variety of your cravings and some for him to have while you watched your show together.

“It’s daddy daughter time baby, cmon how could you forget”

“Oh right mhm where my husband shushes me while he and my daughter plot against me”

A scoff left his lips as he placed the tray on the bedside table, for now, before settling on the bed and resting his head right above your bump. A happy sigh leaving his lips as your hand moved to card through his curls gently.

“We don’t plot against you….we just converse about you darling..big difference”

“Mhm”

Reaching over you popped a few skittles into your mouth with your free hand, your focus going back onto the tv as you felt Lando’s hand lay flat under your belly button, his fingers tapping lightly to see if the baby would move.

“Petal you’re not sleeping on daddy are you? We have to have our nightly talk…”

Snorting out a laugh he turned to glare at you, no actual annoyance behind it at all

“Sorry sorry!”

Shaking his head he tapped around your belly a few more times before she kicked right where his hand was.

“Hi little flower…are you being good to mummy today? Not kicking her too hard?”

As if on command she delivered a stronger kick to your rib cage, a swear escaping your lips

“Little devil she is”

“OH no no that’s not nice, mummy called you a little devil baby, you’re not a devil are you”

Smacking his head gently Lando laughed raising his hand in surrender

“Watch it Norris.”

“Yes ma’am!”

You shook your head continuing to snack as Lando leaned up a bit to place a few kisses to the taught skin.

“Mummy is gonna get daddy if i don’t behave, I have to go love on her now, i love you so much petal, same time tomorrow night?”

A pregnant pause fell over the room until he felt a soft kick on his hand

“Okay, same time tomorrow”

It really was sweet hearing Lando talk to the baby every night even if he was quite cheeky about it.

“Are you done giving the little one attention? Cause i’d love some now…”

“Alright alright girls there’s enough of me to go around!”

Rolling your eyes at your husband was a common occurrence these days, but he was quick to move, coming up to press a kiss to your lips, a soft smile on his face.

“You’ve got all my attention darling”

“Good, I was wondering when you two were going to break up your little huddle down there”

Moving the snacks and placing them in between you both, Lando let you get comfy as your head rested on his chest, now it was his turn to dote on you, a hand moving to rub your back gently.

“I love you, even when you’re being cheeky and turning our daughter against me”

“I love you too darling…and I am not turning her against you…”

“I’ve got my hands full with you, I don’t need two diva’s in this house”

At the sound of this Lando bursted out laughing, he couldn’t hold it back at your statement. He knew you weren’t wrong there at all, but that’s what you loved about him.

And you both knew if your daughter was anything like her father, there’d be a lot of sass filling your home very soon.

[so-much-for-the-seashells]

The Fun Kind of Sparring Pt. 2

Soldier Boy (The Boys) x Reader

(Aka minors do NOT interact with this post)

A/N: Sooooooo… did ya miss me?? Heh. My down stairs brain has been exercised, that’s for sure. Took five but now I’m trying to change lives 💪

Anyways, as always, all interaction, especially commentary/tags, is extremely appreciated! It really makes my day to hear that people like what I’m putting out there.

Content Warning: 🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️ If you thought the last one was diddle-that-skittle-worthy, this one… I think I’m going to need to take a cold shower. I mean, my man doesn’t stop talking. I will say he’s really sweet to the reader. A few things he says sound more like him in canon, but overall he’s really sweet. Look, guys, life is lifing rn so I just needed a sweet hot old man to talk me through it 🤷‍♀️

****************************************************

Previously on The Fun Kind of Sparring

"Good girl," he praises, and it's all I can do not to keen. I have to be soaked through my shorts by now, there's no way. "Well, what l'd do next... that's simple. I'd fuck her until she cried, and then I'd keep going. And I'd keep going until the only thing she can remember is my name, until she's gooey and clingy and a sweet little fucked out thing, all for me," he finishes, his grin from before returning back to his face. I'm losing it. I can't think straight. And yet- he's still waiting for me to make the first move. Son of a bitch.

"O-okay," I clear my throat, unable to find my senses. "And if that hypothetical girl was me?" We both know it's me, I just need to hear it.

"Well in that case I think l'd be the luckiest bastard who ever lived," he says sincerely, looking at me with a gaze that can only be described as pure adoration and lust. Yep. That's it for me. I lean up and kiss him with as much force as I can muster.

A strand of spit connects our lips when we part, and if I hadn’t heard him say all those dirty things I’d think it was the most erotic thing imaginable. It’s certainly a close second, though.

He crashes his lips back to mine once the strand breaks, demanding access that I could never be strong enough not to give. He explores my mouth with great fervor, silencing the small whimpers and whines trying to tear themselves from my throat. Once he’s sure I’m breathless he moves down, planting a row of kisses to my jaw before kissing down my neck, biting and sucking dark marks at the juncture of my neck and shoulder.

But through the lust induced haze that’s already clouding my brain I can only remember one thing.

“Uh, Ben?” my voice is unrecognizable, breathy and high.

“Yeah?” He says into my collarbone where he’s been leaving more love bites.

“What about you? Don’t you get to come in the story?”

“Oh, you’re sweet on me, huh, baby? Don’t you worry about me sweet girl, that’ll come later- no pun intended.”

“Oh, okay,” I mumble, tugging him up by the hair so I can kiss him again. “I could kiss you forever,” I say. And it sounds stupid, but his plush pink lips are just too good to be true.

“That can be arranged, sweetheart,” he smirks, leaning down to kiss me again. There’s just no feeling like it. I reach for the hem of his grey sweatpants, but he grunts, pulling away. I look at him, eyes wide with confusion.

“Sugar, as much as I’d love to give some sad sap the chance of walking in on this, I think it’s better we move this to my room.”

“Oh, okay,” I concede.

“Trust me,” he says, almost… shifty? Whatever. I’m too horny to decipher his gaze at the moment. I let him all but pick me up off the floor, and I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror embellished wall: my face is sweaty and splotchy, hair already a wreck, hickies everywhere on my neck and shoulders. Holy hell. I haven’t even gotten laid yet, and I look like I went nine rounds in a porno. Motherfucker. Me-fucker, in a minute. Good god.

“I think I’m an artist,” he says smugly from behind me, admiring the blues and purples on my neck and shoulders, and catching my gaze in the mirror. He presses his bulge to my ass, at which I gasp. He’s huge. I can already tell. How the fuck does he even-? I don’t even know how I’m going to finish that question.

“C’mon sweetheart, my room ain’t far.”

“Okay,” I mumble, stuck on the absent feeling of his bulge against me. “But the floor was so hot,” I pout.

“Don’t I know it, sweets,” he grins. “But I’ve got big plans for you, if you remember.”

I moan softly at the memory of his dirty words

“Attagirl.” The shit eating grin from before is right back on his face. “Now c’mon, sweets,” he tugs my hand in his, practically dragging me out of the gym. Before I know it I’m laying on my back in his soft bed, him over me. He somehow kisses me both soft and slow, and rough and fast, and it’s almost impossible to breath. Especially as he adds more to the canvas he’s made of my body.

“Can I?” he asks, tugging at the hem of my shirt. I nod, and pulls it up over my head, obviously enjoying what he finds under it.

“Of course my pretty girl has pretty tits too, I shouldn’t even be surprised, but”-he kisses the tops of each of my breasts-“damn, baby.”

I blush at his praise, unable to help myself. “Can I take off this cute little bra?” he asks.

“Mhm,” I say, hoping that he’ll just rip it off. But instead of being raucous he gently unclasps it from behind, teasing it off of me. He trails lower with his lips, lavishing my breasts in attention that leaves them perky and alert once he leaves them for my stomach.

I can’t help but start giggling at the feeling of his scratchy beard on my stomach as he continues his trek of kisses and such southward. “What’s funny?” he asks, obviously amused by my laughter. I can only giggle harder because he seems to catch on, now intentionally scratching at me with it. He starts kissing lower and lower, and eventually my giggles dissolve into moans as he nips at the juncture of my thigh and pelvis.

“So sweet,” he mumbles, tugging at the waist band of my shorts. He pulls both them and my underwear off in one go. “Oh, sweets,” he breathes. “You this wet all for me?”

I squeak, unable to respond to the dark, lust-filled look in his eyes as he asks. Thankfully the question is rhetorical, because my brain is already starting to get fuzzy.

He gingerly pulls off my shoes and socks, before pressing featherlight kisses to and massaging up my left leg. Just as he reaches my sopping heat does he stop, biting the squishy flesh of the inside of my thigh before returning back down on my right leg.

“Ben,” I whine impatiently, unsure of how much more of this teasing I can take before I just come without him doing anything.

He just tuts at me before continuing his ministrations. And good grief does he know what buttons to press, because my legs already feel like jello in his hands.

Finally he bites my other thigh, and I’m all but shaking with how eager I am for him to do something, anything to me. And he seems to be more than happy to comply.

“Listen, if you tell me to stop, I’ll stop,” he says roughly, sincerely, as his cheek rests against the inside of my thigh.

“O-okay?” I say, my tone far past breathy.

“That’s my girl,” he grins before diving in.

It’s like nothing I’ve felt before. It feels like he’s lit orgasmic fireworks, like far too much and not enough all at once, like… it’s fucking inexplainable. Especially while I’m physically squirming from how good it feels, while he only needs one big hand splayed over my stomach to keep me down. I couldn’t even tell you what I’m moaning between the incoherent mess of his one syllable name and the whines he’s pulling out of me.

It’s incredible. And he’s so methodical, so good at it. Eighty odd years of experience will do it to you I guess, but this is like, next level.

And before I know it my stomach is tightening in on itself, and I try to warn him. I really do. But he doesn’t even need me to warn him. Instead he takes his hand off my stomach and places both on either of my thighs, locking me in place around his head. And before I know it, his tongue thrusting in and out of me and his nose and facial hair rubbing on my clit have me coming with a loud cry of his name. I’m physically shaking by the end of it from how he continues to fuck me through it, lapping up every last drop.

The thing about Ben is that he does everything with great fervor. Passion, really, except he thinks that’s too feminine a word. There just has to be a certain exceptionality to the way he does things. When he snorts a line of coke, the line had better be four times longer than anyone else’s. When he performed back in the day, it had to be more grandiose than Queen, more ostentatious than Madonna. When he eats pussy, it has to be fucking leagues ahead of any other man or woman in the entire world.

And man oh man does he deliver. I think I come again, but it’s hard to tell from how intense the initial orgasm was and how fuzzy the overstimulation is making my brain. But he eventually pulls back, once again resting his stubbled cheek on the inside of my thigh, my come glistening on his jaw and mouth. It’s a sight of debauchery in its purest-or should I say filthiest- form. I’m panting, trying to ground myself as he smugly smirks at me, his greens eyes sparkling like cut emeralds.

“Y’like that, sweetheart?” he asks, knowing damn well I do. And yes, he’s cocky as fuck, but… he’s not wrong.

“Yes,” I mumble.

“Good girl,” and at that I clench around nothing. And he does not fail to notice.

“Aww, my sweet girl likes being a good girl,” he observes, languidly running a knuckle through my folds. I gasp, and he chuckles. “Easy.”

He surprises me by thrusting one finger in- and like he said, it wouldn’t do much with how wet I was. So he gives me a second, and I start to feel it, especially when he hits my g-spot on every languid thrust, eliciting tinny moans from me. The tinny moans get louder when he starts scissoring his fingers inside of me, opening me up as far as he sees fit. “Gotta get you ready for me,” he explains, spitting on his other hand before brining his thumb to my clit. I’m beyond fucked once the rough pad of his thumb meets my sensitive bud, gasping his name and arching my back.

“You’re taking ‘em so well, sweet girl. Gonna give you another,” he tells me before adding a third finger and rubbing on my clit even faster. I barely last three minutes of this before I come for the second-third?- time with a weak cry of his name, still ready for more. I’m flustered from how easy it was to make me come, and his words certainly don’t soothe my blush.

“Oh, look at this pretty pussy gushin’ f’me, she’s too good to me,” he groans, slowly thrusting his fingers in and out to prolong my bliss. “Aww sweet girl, why’re you embarrassed, huh? I think my new favorite color is pink cause of your sweet cheeks. My pretty girl, my perfect girl.”

My mind is so fuzzy. Ben- Soldier Boy- is literally praising me whereas he calls anyone else a disappointment or a whore. And he’s making me feel so good, not only because of the incredible sex but with the way he’s treating me.

He kisses me again before he stands up, and I can taste myself on him. I don’t mind though, because his lips, his tongue… I can hardly account for my senses, much less comprehend the taste of myself. He stares at me and finally takes the waistband of his sweatpants in his hands. I can’t help the way my jaw drops as he finally pulls them and his boxers down, and naturally he gives me his signature smirk.

The bottom line is that he’s even bigger than I had thought earlier. Like, this is a size I thought only dildos came in, not the real thing. It’s long, it’s thick, and it’s rock hard. His eyes are trained on mine, so naturally he catches me gaping and laughs. Jackass.

“You know that not all of that is going to fit, right?” I ask, a little nervous.

“We’ll see about that,” he says, cocksure. I can’t help but gulp involuntarily, but once he brings his lips back down to mine I’m right back into my whipped frenzy, pouting and following his lips like a puppy when he pulls away, rummaging in his bedside drawer but talking all the while.

“Don’t worry, m’gonna give you what you want, just gotta ease you into it, okay? Ain’t gonna treat you like a loosened whore, I could never. My sweet girl. Didn’t bring you in here for nothing, wanted this.” He holds up a small bottle, and that’s when I get it. He needed the damn lube. That’s why he wanted to come back here. Not a big connection, but for someone who’s ready to let him doin all sorts of unspeakable things to her and thank him for it, it’s a revolutionary revelation.

“Oh-oh,” I say, my voice breaking when I watch him fist himself a few times.

“Gonna make it feel so good for you,” he mumbles, rubbing a generous amount of lube up and down his length. As if it hasn’t already been beyond good. “Tell you what, baby, I want you to ride me, just to start. Y’can adjust on your own time, take it as slow as you need, okay sweet girl? ‘Cause if I’m on top… I don’t think I can make any promises.” At least he’s honest. The horny part of me wants him to just go ahead and rail me within an inch of my life, but the small, annoying, rational part of me recognizes how huge he is. He sits down next to me on the bed, comfortably resting against the pilos and the headboard. His legs are splayed, showing off the endearing curve to them.

It takes a lot out of my already fucked out self to move two inches and straddle him, but I do. He smiles, genuinely smiles, and I can’t help but smile back.

“Take it easy, sweet girl,” he tells me. “We’ve got all night. You just take all the time you need.” I’m so turned on by how sweet he is, I genuinely can’t even help it.

“Okay,” I mumble, reaching for his cock, feeling it in my hands. It’s just a little thicker than the grip of one of my hands- definitely thicker than anything I’ve ever had, but not as scary as I thought. I rub the leaking precum over his tip, because even though he’s already poured a more than generous amount of lube on himself I can’t be too sure. Not to mention the delicious gasps he’s making at every touch are enough to just do this for the next six hours.

But finally, finally I’m ready. I position myself over it, my arms encircling Ben’s wide, freckled shoulders.

And then I slowly, ever so slowly sink down on the tip. We both moan at the newfound sensation, and I physically have to stop for a second. He’s just so big. All of him is, from his ego to his overall stature, but inside me? He’s huge, and the stretch is beyond satiating.

“You okay, sweets?” he asks, recovering quicker than me.

“Yeah,” I whisper.

“Good girl,” he kisses me on the lips. The distraction of the kiss lets me move more comfortably down his length. I make it a little bit more before I have to stop again. “You’re squeezing me so good, this pussy was made for me,” he groans when I stop, and I hide my own noises into the crook of his shoulder.

“Ben?” I mumble.

“Yeah?”

“I need help,” I whine, keeping my face hidden to hide my embarrassment.

“Aww, sweetpea,” he lets out a small laugh despite himself, furthering my angry red blush. “C’mere, look at me,” I do as he says, my thighs sore from keeping me up as I do so.

“No need to be embarrassed with me, sugar,” he says softly, before bring my lips to his, a big hand cupping the side of my head. I barely notice his other hand on my hip until he slowly starts guiding me down on him, lifting me up and down where I’m and pushing me down further and further as he does so. He muffles my whimpers and whines into the kiss, kissing me so long that I forget what it’s like to breathe.

Once he’s bottomed out and I’m properly seated on his lap does he pull away, letting me moan as loud as I need to.

“How do you feel?” he asks, his own voice strained.

“Full,” I mumble, because it’s true. He’s so all consuming in this moment, all I can concentrate on is how he fills me to the brim.

He twitches inside of me at that, his brow furrowed.

“What’s wrong?” I ask.

“Nothin’ baby, you just can’t be throwing around words like that,” he groans.

“You asked,” I protest.

“I know,” he retorts, kissing me again. After a few moments of sitting there on his lap, I tell him I’m ready to move a little.

“You need help, sweets?” he asks, giving me a knowing look. And I want to say no, that much is probably written on my face. Want to show him that I’m capable of bouncing on his enormous cock, but I sincerely don’t think I am.

“Maybe,” I concede sheepishly.

“That’s okay, baby,” he smiles gently, grabbing me by the hips. He slowly lifts me up his length, and I can feel my walls trying to contract around him as he moves me up, clenching him like a vice. A soft groan leaves his lips whilst various whimpers leave mine.

He keeps this gentle pace, so slow that I can feel every single inch of him slide in and slip out. Slowly the burn from the initial stretch disipates into pure pleasure that leaves me whispering his name every time he bottoms out. But eventually it’s not enough, because the thoughts of his promises creep into my empty mind, his promises of fucking me. Until I cry, until I can only remember his name and nothing else.

“Ben,” I mumble, my head still resting in the crook of his neck as he eases me up and down. “I’m ready.”

“Ready for what, pretty girl?”

Jackass. He knows damn well what, I can hear it in his voice. “I don’t want to say it,” I whine. He pulls me back so we’re eye to eye, resting me on his lap.

“I think you’re gonna have to,” he’s grinning ear to ear.

I pout, my hands resting on his chest.

“C’mon baby,” he prods, thumbing my lower lip. I take his thumb into my mouth, sucking on it. It clearly takes a lot out of him to take his finger out of my mouth, he seems to be turned on by the action.

“Fine. I want you to fuck me,” I tell him, crossing my arms.

“You’re lucky I like you so much. If anyone else were acting this bratty with me I think I’d have to teach them a lesson,” he smirks, the cocky promise clear in his eyes. Before I can retort he slips out of me, and I whine at the emptiness. I don’t like it.

Thankfully I don’t have to wait long because he lays me down, resting over me in a plank just as he was when we were “sparring.”

“Y’trust me?” His thumb comes up to meet my pulse point, his other fingers grazing across the bitten flesh of the juncture of my neck and shoulder, creating the most delicious sting. I nod frantically. “Words, baby.”

“Yes,” I whisper. His presses down barely a fraction harder, and yet it’s already enough to set me off even while being empty.

“I need you to promise me something, gorgeous,” he says, making the most intense eye contact I’ve ever seen from him.

“Okay,” I whisper.

“If you need me to stop, you tell me, okay?” His eyes are slightly wide, indicating how important to him this is. It’s easy to say: “Okay,” he has all of my trust. I kiss him for good measure, and we’re back. Fireworks gone off again halfway through as I take initiative to deepen the kiss before he can. But it doesn’t matter, because he’s stronger and so all consuming, and before I know it my mind is blank again. Blank and wanting one thing: him.

He gets up and I whine, not wanting him away from him. “Miss me already? My clingy girl,” he says affectionately, grabbing a pillow and putting it under my hips, kissing my stomach.

Settling above me once again, he lifts my legs up so that my ankles are resting on his shoulders, nearly bending me in half. But I let him, I’ll be as malleable ad he needs me to be if it’ll help him deliver on those promises.

“You sure you want this, sweets? Last chance to back out,” he tells me. I can’t believe he has the audacity to let the thought of me wanting to back out cross his mind. I’ve never wanted anyone more than I want him.

“I’m so sure. Fuck me, please,” I tell him. This is the strongest my voice has been this far, and I think he gets the memo.

“As you wish,” he grins, before sheathing himself in me in one go. I scream his name, but the noise is cut off by all air leaving my body as he thrusts into me at a literal superhuman pace. The sounds are ungodly, with every thrust a broken moan and the occasional grunt from him. He finds my g-spot with ease, slamming into it with every thrust ad he pounds me into his mattress.

“You sounds so pretty, maybe we should look into making one of those Internet videos.” I moan at the idea. I didn’t think starring in a porno would be my thing until he and his transatlantic 1950s accent suggested it.

“Yeah, everyone would want a piece of this pussy. But she’s all mine,” those last three words are punctuated with particularly hard, possessive thrusts that leave me gasping his name.

He brings his hand up to my throat once more, and the moment his thumb grazes my pulse point as it did before I realize just how much I want to come. “You like that, huh. Such a good girl,” I clench around him as he presses light pressure to my throat, and even though he’s not even done anything with my clit and it’s been maybe two minutes I’m coming hard and all-consumingly. It washes over me in waves that match Ben’s pace, seemingly getting more intense as he keeps fucking me.

“Oh sweetheart, you look so gorgeous when you make a mess of my dick. I’m hopin’ to see that five more times before the end of the night,” he tells me, but I barely hear him, too engulfed in my pleasure. He somehow adjusts the pillow under me while continuing his incessant pace and his grip on my throat and the new angle has me crying from how good it is.

“Aww, what’s the matter sweets?” he coos, knowing damn well what the matter is. It’s just too good.

“You’re so deep,” I sob, unable to gain my bearings because of how full I feel.

“Don’t I know it,” he groans, going impossibly harder. Eventually he takes his hand from my throat, and I whine, until he brings it down to my clit.

“Make it a good one, beautiful,” he winks with a click of his tongue before skillfully rubbing circles into my sensitive bud.

“Ben, it’s too much-,” I protest, but all it takes is a few more circles and I’m coming undone around him again. I’m both hyperaware of my tears soaking my face and the burn from the position of my legs but also on the verge of unconsciousness with how good it all feels. My legs are quivering around him but he doesn’t seem to mind.

“You’re okay, sweet girl, taking it so well,” he mumbles against my lips, kissing away my tears. I’d never had a lay so good that the guy had to reassure me that I was okay because I was shaking and crying uncontrollably from just how good it was. But then again, prior to tonight, I’d never had a lay with Ben.

He quickly brings me to the edge again, his fingers fast on my clit and his thrusts deeper than ever. When I come I can’t say his name, I can’t say much of anything because my mind is blank. Fuzzy, syrupy, I feel almost soft while the only noises I can make are little whimpers as he just keeps going. And I fucking love it.

“‘m gonna come,” he warns, and I muster enough of my bearings to tell him ‘please.’ He gladly obliges, coming with a loud grunt of my name, bottoming out so far inside me that he may damn well be in my cervix. I can feel it leaking out of me, and even in my fucked out stupor I can remember to moan. It’s the hottest feeling I’ve ever felt. He slowly pulls out then, gently easing my legs down.

I look up at him with questioning eyes, wondering why he doesn’t go for another three like he was planning to.

“Don’t want to break you on the first night, sugar,” he says, sweetly cupping my face in his hands. “I know you don’t feel it right now but you’re gonna be real sore in a couple hours.”

I pout, unsure of how to react to that. My legs are still shaking and while I do feel tired I’m still turned on.

Okay, maybe there’s dull ache.

“Oh, don’t pout. There’s other nights, and I’m gonna take care of you,” he smiles softly.

“Okay,” I whisper, finally regaining enough sense to talk.

He leans down to kiss me, softly this time. I melt into the kiss, and that’s when I realize: I don’t just want Ben. I think the feelings might be deeper. Maybe I… love? him.

But hey. There’s other nights.

****************************************************

As a bonus, cause I love y’all: if we can get 250 notes on this post by the end of the poll time then I will do a spicy soldier boy fic with whichever of these gets the most votes. If we can somehow get to 400 I’ll do the top two! No kink shaming, okay? 🥹🎀

In the meantime, if you want more Soldier Boy try Taming the Supe!! <3

For fans of Big Sky!Jensen, part two of 2SC (aka my favorite project thus far) should be coming out next!

And don’t forget, asks/requests/thoughts/thots are always open!!

[eds6ngel]

hey! could you do a dom!robin x fem!reader where its sort of rough smut but really sweet aftercare? tysm <33

hi, babes !! of course i can <33 i did a lil blurb for you. hope that's okay ♡

warnings: SMUT!! afab!reader. gn!reader strap-on use (r receiving.) dirty talk. hair pulling. r's wrists are bound using rope. orgasms. established relationship. pet names (baby, honey, lovely.) r feels dizzy. post-orgasm pain. mention of traffic light system. food mentions. fluff at the end!! [0.9k].

On all fours, Robin was using all of her strength to pound into you from behind. With your hands tied in front of you with a piece of red ribbon, your ass was imprinted with Robin’s hand marks, the same hand now being used to grip onto your hair as the silicone cock grazed in and out of your pussy walls.

“Take it. Fuckin’ take it, baby.”

Your mind was spinning, eyes rolling to the back of your head as all that escaped your throat was the high-pitched sounds of “Ah! Ah! Ah!”

“Baby, I-I can’t take it much longer—”

Robin knew that if you felt uncomfortable in any way, you would simply use your safe word. Whatever you were saying in the moment was an attempt to rile her up even further.

She leans over you, letting go of your hair to whisper into your ear, “Aw, is my poor baby gonna cum for me? Gonna gush around my cock?”

“Y-Yes, Robbie! Gonna cum so hard for you.”

She’s practically pounding directly into your cervix, desperately rutting into you so you can unleash that sweet, sweet release.

And before long, your walls are clamping down hard on the toy, mouth hung open as you scream through your orgasm. Robin continues up the pace, your hands gripping tightly onto the bedsheet where they are bound together.

As she feels your screeches calm, her thrusts slow, before eventually coming all the way to a stop. The sounds of your panting breaths are filling the four corners of her bedroom.

“You doin’ okay, baby?” she asks softly, laying a few kisses on your shoulder. “Same colour all the way through?”

You nod and gulp, “Yeah. That was amazing, Robs. Thank you.”

She kisses the back of your neck, “I’m gonna pull out now, okay?”

Whimpering, she pulls the toy out of your hole and steps out of the harness, throwing it to the end of the bed to be cleaned later.

You attempt to lift yourself up so she can un-tie the rope, but a sudden wooziness strikes you, “Oh, fuck…”

“Honey, you okay?”

Your head feels spaced out. The sudden movement made you realise that maybe you weren’t entirely okay like the previous times you had gone to town like this.

“Feel dizzy.”

Robin’s attention is immediately alerted. She instantly removes the rope from your bound wrists, you stretching them now that you are able to, and she carefully guides you up into a seated position.

“Easy, baby. Nice and slow.”

The upright position feels a lot better in terms of relaxation for the body, but your mind is still not quite there. You gently hold onto your head and lean it completely against the headboard.

“I’m gonna go get you some water and a snack, okay?”

You nod weakly, Robin pulling back the covers so that you could get some air as she quickly ran off into the kitchen.

Loud banging and clattering could be heard off in the distance as you tried your best not to laugh, massaging your temples, trying to focus on the situation at hand.

After a few minutes, she returns with a glass full of water and an unopened packet of Skittles.

“Have a drink first,” she instructs, holding the clear glass up to your dry lips as you take a couple of sips, knowing that gulping it down would not be a smart idea.

“Okay, and now eat some of these. I’ll leave the water next to you on the side so you can take a sip whenever you need to, baby, okay?”

“Thanks, Robs,” you weakly smile, tucking into the colourful treat.

You were so thankful for your girlfriend. She made sure to give you some distance, taking care of washing the strap and cleansing it as you got your body back to regularity.

After putting the toy back into its rightful place, she opened up her bedroom windows, putting them on latch as she came back next to you, lying her body at a reasonable distance from yours.

“How you feelin’ now, baby?” she asks sweetly.

You hum, “Not 100% quite yet. The water made me feel slightly better, but I think I’ll need to eat more of these first.”

“Of course,” she nods, fiddling with her thumbs, “I’ll go easier on you next time, okay? I don’t want you to get like this again. I’m sorry that I was too rough.”

You shake your head profusely, “Baby, no. It wasn’t your fault at all. It’s been a few hours since we have eaten dinner, so I’m probably just feeling like this as I have no food in my stomach.”

“’Kay…”

You take note on how she still seems unsure with herself. You softly place your hand on top of hers, balancing the Skittles packet between your legs, “Please don’t think it’s your fault. I don’t want you to think that I don’t want you to fuck me like that again. Because trust me…” you sigh dreamily, “I definitely do.”

She purses her lips, before finally making eye contact with you, “Okay… Maybe you should just eat something beforehand first.”

“I agree,” you smile tenderly.

Robin equals your grin, “Can I cuddle you now? I’m feeling pretty touch-starved over here.”

You open your arms with a cheesy grin, “C’mere, lovely.”

And with that, you and Robin are snuggled up in one another’s arms, sharing the Skittles that your legs have got secured, feeding each other the chocolate snacks. The perfect way to end a night.

taglist: @agxxb @robinsno1lesbian @agenderrat

[skittles-the-whumpee]

Another sneak peak ^^

Well...more of a progress update... ^^;

[motherraid]

Rewards

((Sebek x Reader))

I'd JUST realized that I did not post this the way I intended to.... After a month of it just sitting in the void...

Kind of a part 2 to this?

(Sebek x Afab!Reader // Embarrassing ways of describing Afab!Reader parts >- >;;; // C*ckwarming // Kinda vanilla sex tbh // Overstimulation,, just a tad bit // Studying // But not actually studying // Basically just a more fleshed out version of the previous ask // Rambles shall hereby never be proofread no matter how desperately they need to be I am MUCH too lazy)

This was NOT the way to study. At least, this wasn't what you had thought you'd be doing when sweet innocent Sebek told Lilia that you both would be in his room "studying."

After witnessing you acting a fool with those irritating, skittle haired friends of yours DURING CLASS, he'd concluded that you need to work on your obedience and focus on your lessons. So, he'd decided to help you the only way your tiny, primitive, human brain could understand.

You're not even allowed to look at him. Only after you finish your work will you finally be "rewarded," and you can't cheat your way out of this. Every time you try to bounce even slightly, grind against him, or moan into his ear, he'll pull out of you and leave you clenching air, dryly stating that maybe you're beyond helping and the "session" should end here. Which leads you to beg him for another chance. This continues until you straighten up, pick up your pencil, and focus on your homework placed in front of you. He won't break. No reward for no work.

You could practically feel his eyes burning holes in the back of your head. In normal circumstances, this would be uncomfortable. Stressful, even. However, it's safe to say his behavior in this particular situation is more than understandable. After all, you're the one sat comfortably in his warm lap, with his even warmer dick nestled deep inside of you.

He starts off with his chest against your back, voice stern and commanding. When he'd point to the equations on your worksheet, criticizing every error you would make, his voice would rumble in his throat and bob his Adam's apple against your shoulder.

If the fact that he was buried deep into your pretty cunt wasn't enough to melt you alive at that point, then the close proximity would. From your thighs squished tight against his, to your back, where your heart would hammer against his sternum and encourage his to pound in tandem, and especially the warmth of your back, he seemed to like the state he'd put you in. He'd be reminded of it every time you'd clench around his cock. Whether on purpose or accident, both would earn you a smack on the thigh. He'd hiss a sharp reprimand through clenched teeth and try his best to disguise his shaky, pleasured sigh as a huff of aggravation.

Then, his resolve seemed impeccable. He was so laser focused onto the paper and almost never entertained your incessant whining. You didn't even dare try to plead with him, or else you'd be scolded, and he'd drag out your "study session" even longer.

But now, half an hour later, he didn't seem as strict as before. Whether his leniency is because he's decided to have some mercy on you, or because he's finding it rather hard to keep himself together, he leans back in the chair and tells you to finish the last three problems on your own since you're doing so well. And even now, you're still not allowed to look back at him. Every time you'd try, he'd grab your chin and pull your gaze back to your paper. Even a bit of your attention would make the tendon on the underside of his cock flex, and you can feel that bulge shift deep in your belly. He has to keep himself from snapping somehow.

You'd swear he was using magic on you in some way because every twitch in his muscles would light up your nerves like sparks. A shiver shakes a small whimper from your lips, and a deep grunt from his as he rolls his head against the back of the chair. His hands, instead of being wrapped around your waist, pointing out flaws and errors on your paper, or delivering a sharp smack to your thigh, were gripping the seat for dear life.

He may be a bit irrational, but he was damn sure smart enough to know that if his hands find their way to your body again, he'd crush you tight to his chest and stand up so he could properly bend you over the desk and satisfy his aching cock. But he couldn't. Not until you were finished. He can't reward you before you've earned it. Then you'd never learn, and you would never take him seriously (and what a great sentiment! Strange way of acting on it, but great sentiment nonetheless ig).

At this point, he could excuse your shifting to get more comfortable and even your occasional whining, mostly because it's been so long, and you probably feel the exact same amount of agony he must be feeling. But when you buck your hips or grind your ass into his lap to relieve some of the pressure in your core, then you've gone too far.

His legs tense underneath you, and just when you think he might break and finally let go of this silly idea, another loud smack strikes your thigh, and red skin is made redder like a toddler getting spanked.

"Don't. Test. Me." He hisses.

You don't need to look back at him to know he's scowling at you. His eyes glare daggers at the back of your head as you lock in to finish your last question. He hears your hand scribbling against the desk, damn near burning holes in the paper and, to be honest, he preens a little knowing that your revived dedication for studying is a product of his "teaching". But was this really so hard to do in the first place? Maybe you two could have actually been having fun instead of being stuck in a chair for an hour.

You rejoice internally when you can finally tap him and croak out, "Finished."

Sebek pulls himself back upward and rests his head on your shoulder once more, his hand cozying against your thigh and gently rubbing against your sore skin (a silent apology). He nods and hums in approval, and you can feel a mix of pride and suspense blooming in your heart. As his eyes scan over the last question at an achingly slow pace, you feel tears welling in your eyes when he slides his hand inside your thigh upwards towards your crotch. Finally, some relief....

SMACK!

"Wrong," Sebek sighs, "Didn't I tell you before that you have to pay attention to your negative numbers? You threw off your whole equation."

He grabs your pencil and erases your incorrect attempt and demands you try again. He ignores your sobs, both from that painful slap and the fact that, at this point, it's been a whole hour and you haven't cum ONCE. It stings deep in his chest to hear you so upset, but you can't be rewarded yet. You're so close. Sebek can't break because this is genuinely all for you. He just wants to help you become the best student you can be. He knows you can achieve it, so if he has to sit here all day with you, then he will. Because he loves you that much.

There is no forbearance for your second attempt, either. Your marks are promptly erased, not even a minute after he looks it over. When he tsks and shakes his head, you feel like you're dying. He does sigh and gently wipe the tears from your eyes, but your cunt is sobbing as well, drenching his aching cock that you still swallow entirely. You soak the green, well trimmed hair at his base, and it dribbles down his balls, painful and all too ready to burst.

Sebek rests against the chair once more to keep you from leaning back into him. This prevents him from becoming too tempted to say "fuck it" to his plan and all his hard work and take you immediately. Now he gives you encouraging words, mumbling soft "I love you's", under his breath and, "Doing.. So well..."

"Keep going.."

"So close..."

The third time Sebek leans over and checks your work, he nods and slams his hands onto the table so hard your pencil goes flying. He shoots up from his chair, causing you to fall forward onto the black wood. You can't push yourself back up because a hand clamps down on the back of your neck and forces your head to rest against your worksheet. The slow drag of his cock as it slides out to the tip is the only warning he gives you before he immediately slams back into you. The force of his hips causes the table to jut out under your weight, and before it can even fully bounce back to normal he's already drilling his cock deep into you, sending the table flying forwards again, and again, and again. Sebek throws his head back and let's out a deep guttral moan as if he'd been waiting his entire life to finally stuff your pretty cunt.

His pace is relentless, and neither of you lasts longer than a few minutes. All the waiting and no relief built pressure deep inside the both of you that needed to be out. He folds over you and wraps his arms around your waist, pulling your back into his chest as he babbles on and on.

"Your reward..." He groans deep into your ear as he smushes a sloppy kiss against your lobe. "Do you like it? You get the privilege of carrying our hatchlings. Enjoy it, love."

That's your breaking point. You crumple in his hold, and his arms crushing your body into his as he fucks into you is the only thing currently keeping you from slipping off the table. Lord knows your now weak knees aren't helping any. Drool drags across your chin and smears directly against your worksheet. He went on and on, praising your patience and resolve, and telling you how happy he is to have a partner like you, but you'd barely registered anything he'd said after calling you "love."

You both fail to realize that, one, you might be a tad bit too loud for his dormmates and, two, now Lilia might be more than aware than ever that you two aren't actually "studying". Especially when you scream and cum hard on his cock, gripping the table edge for dear life as your orgasm rips through your body.

You're barely able to move, so you allow Sebek to use you like a fleshlight until he finishes himself (not long after you). His hips stutter and jerk frantically at first before he shoots, hot and deep into your core. Then, his instincts spurs him further; gentle, shallow grinding against your ass that leaves him shuddering.

Tears prick his eyes as he collapses on top of you, squishing your drool stained face against your currently damp and drool covered paper. The rest of his cum comes in spurts, and his hips tremble against your ass as he pushes himself as far as he can possibly reach into your pussy (which, given his size, means he's pretty cramped in there).

Once he pulls out, it takes a while for him to finally relax into your body. He breathes in huffs while one hand lightly rubs circles on your hip, and the other carefully stuffs his cum back inside of you. As much as he can manage while not looking, anyway. It's a bit overstimulating with him basically fingering you lazily after you just came, but you're too tired to do anything about it.

And after some time has passed, when he finally lifts his head to see your zoned out and thoroughly pleased expression, he smiles to himself.

See? You can focus on your work. You just need a little encouragement and a nice reward.

This blog revolves around Dead dove content.

If you're not okay with seeing that, this is fine! I just don't wanna hear about it, mkay?♡ Some people come here for this type of content, so you see something you don't like, just keep scrolling, dude. And if there's absolutely nothing dead dove about the current post, then don't tread my Tumblr and get all shocked when you see nasty stuff. Okay? Alright, thanks. :)

[kiddbegins]

I Can’t Lose You. - Brian ‘Otis’ Zvonecek

Requested: yes

Word count: 810

Warnings: arguing but it ends happy so 🤸🏻✨

A/n: I couldn’t get the linking a gif to work but this is @winchesterszvonecek ‘s gif from this post.. actually i got it (thank you laptop) but bff this is still for you

Masterlist

“I can’t lose you.”

You and Otis didn’t fight a lot. In fact it was super rare and usually not even a fight. Just an argument . The difference being the arguments were always silly. What flavor skittle was the best (the green one.), your favorite Star Wars movie (Revenge of the Sith), which kind of soda was superior (Dr. Pepper.)

But this was a fight. Like actual yelling, crying and all. Your obliviousness was your achilles heel. You weren’t used to, well, people most of the time. Growing up you didn’t have many friends, you didn’t go out places most of college.

The only examples of the social life had been since you started seeing Brian a couple years ago and he basically swallowed you into his friend group who were truthfully always together.

Not that you complained because you loved them but still, everything was new to you. How were you supposed to know the guy that came up to you at the bar was flirting? “Bri, you know I don’t pick up on stuff like that!”

He wanted to believe you, but his own insecurities in himself more than anything picked at his rational, shoving it out the door. “You picked up on it when I was the one doing the flirting. When I was the one passing you drinks ‘on the house’ which you knew meant I was buying for you.”

“Yeah because I liked you! I wanted you to be flirting with me. I didn’t pick up on it, I just gave you my own googly eyes back.” You ran a hand down your face. “Look I’m not arguing with you over this, Brian. Either you believe me or you don’t. Pick.”

Your eyes darted over his, the anger and honestly, the fear, fighting against one another inside of you. You weren’t a liar. And you wanted to yell that at him. Force him to believe you. Because you hated this. All of this. But the other part of you was worried if you pushed him too much he just wouldn’t forgive you at all.

Otis wasn’t like that but truthfully this was also your first real fight. How did you actually know what he was like in them if you never got into one before? “Please believe me.” You couldn’t bear it in yourself to keep up the shield of anger. Not when the one thing you hated most was not being believed.

Instead, your previous emotion was fully replaced with fear. Undoubtful fear. “Please believe me because I can not lose you.” By now there were tears actively sliding down your face. You loved him. God did you love him. Every little molecule that made him had you swooning, always.

He had your attention the second you ran into one another at a cafe, literally. Your coffee down the front of his work shirt and everything. One of the most stereotypical meetcutes you could ever have but with how sweet he was when it happened? How could you not agree to hang out more?

Were you meant to turn him down? “You swear you didn’t notice?” Otis asked, his voice softer than before, the anger seeping out when he saw how your face twisted with sadness. You were his soft spot just as much as he was yours.

“I swear, Bri. I love you. Nobody else could even get me to pull my eyes away from you.” Hesitantly you stepped closer to him, grabbing his hands in yours. “You’re the love of my life, okay? If that guy was flirting, I didn’t realize because I didn’t care enough to. I care about you. Only ever you.”

Your words admittedly brought tears to the man’s eyes, nobody had ever been as sweet and caring as you were with him. Most of the time he was the second, even third choice. Half of him expected you to drop your attention from him to one of the ‘more attractive’ first responders the first night he brought you to Molly’s.

But you didn’t. Your body was glued to the edge of the bar, talking to him for the entire night. You were his before he even knew it. “Alright,” He let out a sigh, pulling you into a big bear hug. “I’m sorry. I really am. I just couldn’t bear the thought of losing you to some guy.”

“You won’t lose me. Ever. I’m here for the long run.” You took a pause, “And I’m hoping that you’ll figure that out soon enough and get moving.” Otis pulled away with a look of confusion on his face.

With a soft laugh you lifted your left hand, wiggling the fingers on it. “By the end of the year I’m really hoping this finger won’t be bare anymore.” You teased, leaning up to kiss his cheek, just happy that that crisis was easily averted.

JOIN BRIAN'S TAGLIST HERE!

[kissmyaft]

Okay so I got a funny as hell thought based off of @kazumiabi ‘s ‘gum’ post on colourful gums and I’ve been laughing at it for the past hour

So the idea I got was:

Imagine getting your Yautja mate to try earth based sweets that end up turning your mouth colourful.

Except your mate has no idea and you deadass forgot about it too, until their mouth is all rainbows and sunshine. Cue you trying to keep a straight face at first.

Now for the shits and giggles you guys just so happen to be in public. They’re just going to wonder why are people staring so much💀.

Their friend is going to walk up to you. It’s a female Yautja who has her kid with her. Honestly her presence makes it all the harder for you to not crack up as she throws a questioning stare at you and you have to force your face to be neutral.

Her kid starts saying something about your mates mouth being colourful. Your mate is confused and your poker face isn’t holding up for much longer. Someone get the poor Yautja a mirror.

When your mate turns to look at you for an answer is when you finally crack and end up laughing your ass off. You’re grasping your stomach and crying from laughter.

The female Yautja is probably going to find it a little amusing as well.

Your mate has no idea what’s happening, they’re there like “??????”

You finally end up explaining through laughs and wheezes to your mate that some sweets tend to give colour and that their mouth looks like a wholeass rainbow. You end up having to run from him (not that you’ll make it far).

Bonus: The female yautjas kid told all his friends and it spread over the village like a wildfire and the kids told their parents. Even funnier if he teaches younglings, you and their parents get to tease him and start calling him and his little group of younglings the Skittle squad. All in all absolutely worth the trouble you got in for it.

[goatcheesecak3]

Dating Adam headcanons

Context: this takes place after he escapes the bathroom (which definitely happened and is 1000% canon)

I've never written for Adam before, so I hope I did our bbygirl justice

He really doesn't like bathrooms anymore, for obvious reasons. He'll only shower if you sit outside talking or singing to him the whole time. When he gets out, you dry his hair for him all while telling him how proud you are and how brave he is.

He doesn't really keep on top of general chores, so you regularly do his laundry for him or come by to help clean his apartment. With any other guy you might find this irritating, but Adam's got enough on his plate, you're just glad he's letting you take care of him.

This man is CLINGY, if you're not with him he's constantly texting and calling you to make sure nothing bad has happened. When you are with him, he's pretty much always touching you in some way, it could be cuddling, having his arm over your shoulder or just resting his hand on your leg. He says he just finds physical touch comforting, and after all he's been through, you can see why.

Absolutely no one makes you laugh like Adam does, it's what attracted you to him in the first place. He's got such a clever dry wit, it seems as though he's been blessed with the ability to speak in perfect one liners 24/7. He constantly has you either cracking up, or rolling your eyes playfully.

He's incredibly cheeky, even though he's been your boyfriend for a while, he still flirts with you as if he's trying to pick you up at a bar or something. You find the amount of effort he puts into wooing you very cute.

He has a lot of trouble with sleeping. Sometimes his nightmares get so bad that he gets too scared to go to sleep, other times he wakes up in a panic, thinking he's waking up back in that awful room. You've discovered that sleeping with a small lamp on helps with this, so that when he wakes up he can immediately tell where he is, and playing gentle music while he goes to bed seems to calm him. But the most effective thing you've found, is warmth. Back in the bathroom it was freezing cold and damp, so to give him the opposite effect, you buy him a hot water bottle to cuddle at night (as well as cuddling him yourself).

He's pretty broke, so he can't really afford to take you out on fancy dates, but you don't care about that at all. Sometimes he'll take you for an evening walk in the park, which the two of you really enjoy. For special occasions though, he scrapes together whatever money he can to give you a nice night. He'll usually splurge on a steak and some wine and cook you a fancy meal from home, which you eat in his little apartment by candlelight.

Adam has a real sweet tooth, when you come to stay with him you always make a stop in a corner store on the way and pick him up some chocolate or a bag of skittles or something (and a pack of smokes ofc), and every time without fail it surprises him.

Surprisingly, arguments aren't actually that common between the two of you. Don't get me wrong, sometimes Adam can be a bit of an ass, he can be snippy and quick to anger, but you never let it escalate. You understand that he's got good reason to be a little unpredictable emotionally, so you're patient and kind to him, even when he's out of line. You manage to calm him enough to talk through whatever the issue is, and resolve things fairly quickly.

When he talks about you to other people he doesn't ever say "my girlfriend/boyfriend," it's always "my girl/ my boy". Hearing him introduce you to others like "this is my girl/boy, y/n" just makes your heart flutter.

A/n I've never written for Adam before, so pls let me know if you want more!

Check my pinned post for request details and my masterlist!

Replies and reblogs are very much appreciated <3

[soupyloopyx]

Intro Post! (it's been a long time coming)

anyone can join the soupyloopy squad! ^ (creds: made by me)

finally doing an intro post guyss

hi!!!! i'm soph <3

you can call me so many things, like soupy or whatever, but the government calls me sophy.

i go by she/her pronouns, i'm a minor, and i'm a gemini with capricorn moon and aquarius rising, which means i'm better than you btw

i absolutely love taylor. i'm going to the eras tour in 2 days (19th august!) which means that i'll probably miss a rep tv announcement by one day :/

i'm english! born and raised in london, bitches

i really love english, writing, etc., and you really can't tell from my lack of capital letters, but i am so particular about SPaG, it's crazy. i get so mad when someone uses the wrong your/you're or there/their/they're 😭😭

highlights of my life so far: sirius black rp acc following me back wtf, loads of people that i admire following me back, getting 1000 hits on a fic i wrote, getting tickets to the eras tour, getting SIGNED TTPD LIKE WHAT THE HELL, managing to get signed short n sweet an HOUR after it dropped

also!!!

i love reading and writing fanfics normal books. 100% normal. a real book that has been published and not ao3.

but if you also like fanfics normal books, i would be forever grateful if you check out my ao3, Soupy_x! thank youu

i actually have no idea what to put here so apologies for rambling >.>