#yeah I didn’t actually read these before doing the cover lol.

[aroaessidhe]

2024 reads / storygraph

Sweethearts & Sugarsnap

books 2 & 3 in a YA paranormal novella trilogy set in 2004

lesbian couple try to survive the last year of high school before they can get out of their creepy and restrictive small town

but the supernatural stuff they messed around with last year isn’t done with them yet, and they each have secrets haunting them

[roz-ani]

I hereby declare the 1995 "Pride and Prejudice" TV series to be the superior adaptation. Thank you. You are dismissed. Have a nice day ❤️

(rambling in the tags)

[nereidprinc3ss]

light of the morning

in which spencer sneaks into bau!reader's hotel room and they share a little more than just the bed

18+ (smut) warnings/tags: softdom!spence x sub reader, munch!spence, unprotected piv sex (dont do that), creampie (hate that word btw) praise, mentions of having to be quiet because morgan is right next door LOL, fluffy, established co-workers/friends with benefits, soooo idiots in love a/n: here is the promised smut. i am literally kicking my feet and twirling my hair and giggling and blushing at my own writing. I'm gonna have a freak out. requests are open like my legs

It’s late when the knock finally comes. Late enough that you’re dozing on the bed above the covers. 

It takes you a moment to reorient yourself—you’re rubbing your heavy eyes when you finally get the door. 

"Hi."

"Hey," says Spencer, hands awkwardly shoved into his pajama pants pockets. It’s funny, really. He never gets any better at this. 

You step aside and he enters the room, looking around as you close and relock the door. 

"Did I wake you?"

"How could you tell?"

"You’re in pajamas. And you look tired. I mean—you don’t look bad. You never look bad, I just meant… you don’t look tired but you’re not—I didn’t mean to—"

"Relax," you yawn, putting him out of his misery. "I was joking. I know I look tired." You glance at the digital clock on the nightstand. "It’s late. We have to be up early tomorrow."

"Yeah, I got, uh, sidetracked. Sorry."

He was reading. If it was anyone else, you'd be offended--but a sinkhole could open up under Spencer's feet and he probably wouldn't notice if he was absorbed in a book.

You shrug, a knowing smile lifting the corner of your mouth. 

"It’s fine. But I don’t know if tonight is a good night. I really am exhausted."

His eyebrows dart up. 

"That’s fine. That’s totally fine. I’ll just, uh—"

When you don’t move from in front of the door, he pauses, unsure. You bite the inside of your cheek, studying his rangy frame and choice of clothing. Blue pajama pants, slippers, grey CalTech zip up hoodie. It feels wrong to describe a 6'1 man as adorable, but that’s how he looks in his sleep clothes. There’s a very real chance, you find yourself thinking, that you are the only member of the BAU to ever see him in something other than slacks and a button-down. He looks so cozy that you kind of really want him in your bed even if he’s not doing anything but sleeping. The invitation slips out before you can think too hard about it. 

"You could… stay, anyway, if you want?"

His mouth parts slightly, and those eyebrows raise again. There’s a moment of awkward silence and you are very much beginning to regret your offer, wondering if you somehow violated the sanctity of your co-workers/friends with benefits situtationship. Clumsily you try to backtrack. 

"Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, you can—"

"No, no! You didn’t, I just don’t want you to feel obligated to invite me to stay in your room. I’m right across the hall, I can go back if you want me to."

You smile awkwardly, silent relief replacing the brief anxiety. 

"It’s fine. It’s not like we haven’t shared a bed before." And not like you wouldn’t have ended up doing it tonight anyway, if things had gone as originally intended.

He chuckles, looking to the floor and nodding. The blush on his face does not go unnoticed by you. "Fair enough."

It’s incredibly endearing how nervous he still gets after six months of this little arrangement. 

"Do you wanna get your stuff, or…"

"No, that’s okay. I’ll just go back early tomorrow. The chances of someone seeing me leave your room are significantly higher if I do it so soon after entering."

You squint, unable to tell if he’s fucking with you or if that’s an actual statistically sound probability. And then you realize, blissfully, that you don’t really care. 

"Okay, well. Make yourself comfortable. I’m just going to brush my teeth."

Once you’re enclosed in the bathroom, hotel vanity lights blinding you as you brush, you find that there is a jittery sort of apprehension buzzing in your chest. But that’s silly. As you yourself pointed out, the two of you have shared a bed many times over the past few months. But the sleeping together is always a byproduct of the sleeping together. Never have you shared a bed in a completely decent, virtuous, strictly non-sexual manner. It’s always been a matter of convenience—less bother if he doesn’t have to worry about sneaking back into his room in the middle of the night when you’re both exhausted. Or maybe that’s just what you’ve been telling yourselves. 

You rinse your mouth out and exit the bathroom, flicking off the light and finding that Spencer has indeed made himself comfortable. The hotel room is dark and he’s already under the covers, fiddling with his phone. 

"What time should I set the alarm for?" He asks, looking over at you as you crawl into bed, drawing the covers over yourself. "I was thinking 6:23. That should give me enough time to—"

"Sounds perfect," you affirm, wiggling under the blanket as you get comfortable. He schedules the alarm and sets his phone on the bedside table, dousing the room in complete darkness. Your eyes stay open despite, waiting for them to adjust. A few moments of utter silence and stillness pass, and you can tell Spencer is completely stiff next to you. 

"Spencer."

“Yeah,” he answers immediately. Like he’s even more wired about this whole situation than you are. 

"You know you don’t have to avoid touching me at all costs, right? I’m not a leper."

He looses a nervous laugh. 

"I know. We’ve just never really done this."

You frown at the darkness.

"We’ve definitely slept in the same bed before."

"Yeah, but… this feels different."

That, you can’t argue with. Can friends with benefits share a bed just to be near each other? Does that blur some line? And why does it feel more intimate than the sex? 

Screw it. If there is one thing you don’t want your relationship with Spencer to be, it is uncomfortable. Uncertain, you can work with. But not uncomfortable. You reach for him, hand sliding under the duvet—and find his hand already waiting for yours. 

"I don’t think it’s that different," you lie, interlacing your fingers together slowly. 

"Prolonged physical non-sexual contact does have measurable health benefits…" the words are murmured, like the moment is fragile and he doesn’t want to shatter it. 

"Can’t argue with the facts," you breathe, trying to modulate the shakiness of your voice. But you have a feeling you’re doing about as good of a job at concealing your nerves as he is. He shifts.

"Can I…"

"Yeah."

Your heart is pounding as he slips one arm under your neck and the other around your waist, pulling you close. Instinctually you curl into him, slinging your top leg over him as you’ve done before, but always dismissed as post-sex brain chemicals making you feel all warm and fuzzy. A neurological reaction that is so solidly scientific, neither of you ever questioned it. But it feels bigger now. 

He exhales as you settle against each other—a sound of relief that mirrors your own. He’s so warm, so safe as he envelops you, physically and sensorially. In such close proximity, so clear-headed, you notice each layer of his scent. Toothpaste, lavender, vetiver, detergent. You sort of feel like a creep, but you can’t deny how comforting it is. Nor can you deny the pirouette your heart does when he begins minutely rubbing your back, like he’s not even thinking about it. 

"Goodnight," you whisper into his shirt. 

"Goodnight," he whispers back. 

You fall asleep pretty quickly after that. 

------------------------------

It’s unclear what wakes you up—maybe it’s the blue-grey dawn light filtering in through the filthy window (doubtful, it’s still mostly dark) or maybe it’s the blinking green digital clock on the nightstand. 5:02 AM. Your alarm will go off in an hour and 21 minutes.

Sometime in the night you shifted, turning over in your sleep, but Spencer is still holding you close. The arm slung so casually over your waist is slightly domineering, but you manage to rotate again and face him once more. Mere inches away from his face you can see every detail. His expression is so peaceful, it makes your heart ache. 

But you’re just friends. 

Perhaps he felt you moving, because his eyes flutter open and you watch as they flood with consciousness. He takes you in, takes in his arm over your waist. For a split second you’re nervous he’ll pull away. 

"What time is it?" His voice is scratchy with sleep. 

"Five."

"Why are you awake? We have over an hour til the alarm goes off."

"Sometimes waking up early is okay."

His eyes flicker between your own, and momentarily you’re paralyzed as you realize this is a limbo state for the two of you in which you’ve never operated. You don’t know what’s acceptable. You don’t know what to do. Being close to him feels so good, that the idea of separating hurts. But you don’t want to make him uncomfortable, or—

He leans forward and kisses you softly. In the blue light of dawn, rather than frenzied and hidden in the dark, a desperate tear of clothes and teeth and hands—it’s almost freeing. All the anxiety you were feeling just seconds ago begins to melt. 

Friends. 

"You looked anxious," is his whispered answer after he pulls away a moment later, like a kiss is the simplest remedy in the world. He brushes a lock of hair behind your ear. "We should go back to sleep."

"I don’t want to go back to sleep."

The corner of his mouth twitches as he studies you.  

"No? What do you want?"

Emboldened by your mutual indiscretion, it’s your turn to kiss him. You feel him smile against your lips, hand finding the back of your neck and raking up through your hair to pull you closer. 

The delirium of sleep seems to have softened you, filed down the rough edges of your boundaries and kicked away the lines in the sand. What’s a kiss or two when you’ve just woken up? A small, innocuous display of affection while you’re still barely conscious. Nobody could fault either of you for that. People don’t think clearly when they’ve just been asleep.

So what if your lips part against his, and his other hand finds its way under your shirt to stroke the bare skin of your waist and hips? So what if you hitch that leg over him again and press closer?

Spencer breaks the kiss, still ghosting over your lips. 

"I thought it wasn’t a good night?"

"It’s not night time anymore, is it, genius?"

You sneak another kiss, nipping his bottom lip gently as you pull away. 

Instead of whatever array of responses you were expecting, Spencer smiles slightly, eyes almost sparkling in the faint light. The hand on your hip moves to your face, gently thumbing across your cheek. He begins to say something, and stops himself—biting his lip to hold back the words. 

"What?" you ask, heart dropping. Illusion fracturing. 

"I was just—" he begins, pausing for a moment before the words all come out in a rush. "I was just going to tell you how beautiful you are, but I don’t know if that’s something I should say, or if it would feel too… I don’t know…"

He trails off. A rare instance in which he doesn’t have the words. 

You do. Intimate. Real. Romantic. And he’s right, it does feel too much like all of those things. But that doesn’t mean you don’t like it, perhaps more than is strictly good for you. 

"It’s fine. Thank you."

He continues chewing on his lip for a moment. 

"Did I just ruin the mood?"

"No," you laugh, "not at all."

"Thank god," he sighs, surging forward again. 

"Since when do you thank god?" You manage between kisses. 

He moves to press his lips to your jaw and down your neck. 

"Do you want me to talk about the historical and cultural transition of religious expressions into ubiquitous secular colloquialisms right now?"

"Kind of," you breathe.

"No you don’t," he murmurs against your neck as his hands find the hem of your shirt. "You want me to take your clothes off."

Well, he’s not wrong there. 

You help him tug the shirt over your head before leaning back into the pillows as he situates himself over you and lavishes more kisses down your neck and collarbones, pausing to suck a mark only when he knows it’s low enough to be covered by your clothing later. 

You gasp when his lips brush over your nipple, before running his tongue over the sensitive skin. He glances up at you, and though his mouth is occupied, you can see the humor in his eyes. He loves how sensitive you are—how easy it is to get a reaction out of you. 

Of course, you continue to prove him right when he takes the other into his mouth, trying to hold back your little whimpers as he darts his tongue over the peak. Maybe somebody else wouldn’t hear them, but Spencer does. He’s hyper attuned to the sounds you make. Something of a catalogue has begun to form in the back of his mind; he knows exactly what each noise means and how to get them out of you. 

Once satisfied, he moves to press a kiss to your sternum. 

"You’re gonna be quiet for me, right?" Another kiss above your bellybutton. "Because Morgan is sleeping right on the other side of that wall, and we don’t want to wake him up."

"I’ll be quiet," you promise, somewhat breathlessly. Spencer’s mouth trails lower until he’s pulling your shorts down your legs, leaving you completely naked. He tosses them somewhere on the floor and hooks your legs over his shoulders. 

"Good." He plants one last kiss to your thigh and the next one lands right between your legs. 

You regret the need to be silent almost as soon as he drags his tongue over your clit. It’s not like the two of you have ever had the privilege of making a lot of noise, as the hotel rooms are always so close to each other, but it doesn’t make it any easier. 

Instead you opt to rake your hands through his hair and try to take deep breaths. But he knows exactly what you like—he knows starting light and slow, teasing around your most sensitive spot will work you up to the brink of insanity, just like he knows gentle circles make your back arch and elicit the prettiest little moans. 

"More," you beg, and the hands wrapped around your thighs rub soothingly, reassuring you that if you can just be patient you’ll get what you want. 

He takes your aching clit into his mouth, sucking lightly and you’re forced to clap a hand over your mouth, muffling the sob of pleasure you can’t hold back. Spencer keeps it up until you’re practically riding his face, teasing your dripping entrance with the tip of his tongue when you get too close. 

"Fuck, please, Spence," you whisper through your fingers, hips rutting in your desperation. Somehow it always ends up like this—with him in charge and you begging. Not that you have a problem with it, of course. 

He hums into you, and if the way his tongue moves back to circling your clit with newfound fervor is any indication, is apparently satisfied with your entreaty. 

You gasp and try to control your breathy moans, but his mouth feels so good on you that your vision is going out and you’re losing touch with reality ever so slightly. You use the last of your brain power to bite down on the back of your wrist, hoping it adequately muffles the noises you make as you come on Spencer’s tongue and he greedily continues lapping at you. There’s really no way of knowing—your ears are ringing anyway. 

When you come to a moment later he’s peppering kisses on your thighs, rubbing your hips gently. 

"So pretty," he murmurs, climbing back up so your lips can meet again. "Everything about you is pretty."

You paw at his shirt, signaling that you want it off as you moan at the taste of yourself on his tongue, feel your slippery arousal staining the kiss. Spencer helps you, sitting up briefly to unzip his hoodie and pull off his shirt. 

You’re the one to drag him back down, and you notice that he pulls the covers back over the both of you in a sweet gesture he probably didn’t even think about. 

"Need you to fuck me," you beg, reaching down to try and undress him further. 

"So crude. What happened to my nice, sweet girl?" He mumbles against your neck, but helps you with his pants anyway. 

"You must have me confused with someone else."

"Doubtful."

You don’t have much time to consider what that could mean before he’s running the head of his cock over your clit and you’re gasping into his mouth, saying please like it’s the only word you know. 

"There she is," Spencer croons, slipping inside you slow enough for you to feel every inch but quick enough for it to expel all the air from your lungs. Once he’s opened you all the way up, impossibly deep and close, you’re seeing stars, barely breathing. His head has dropped to your shoulder but now he drags his lips up your neck and jaw. "We okay?"

It’s been a while, you realize, since that last case in Maine. He always takes some getting used to. Hardly able to think around the pressure of his cock you nod, trying to string together a few words. 

"Fuck, I need a second." The words come out choked, but you manage. Spencer rubs your hip, his lips brushing yours as he speaks. 

"Relax, sweetheart. I don’t want to hurt you."

He curses to himself, dropping his head momentarily. You’re so fucking soft, and warm, and perfect, he can’t think straight. But he has to try because he has to take care of you. 

"Spence," you gasp, failing to verbally communicate the intensity of the physical sensation. 

"I know, baby," comes his sympathetic coo. "You know you can take me. Deep breaths."

"Mhm," you squeak, trying to take follow his directions and soften your muscles. Spencer keeps rubbing soothingly over your hips, stomach, whatever he can get his hands on, really, pressing kisses all over your face and telling you how good you are, how perfect you feel for him. After a few moments he feels you fluttering around him and experimentally pulls out halfway, before pushing back in equally as slowly. Your jaw drops as he begins to leisurely fuck you, arms wrapping around his back. He gets deeper than you expect every time, rubbing you raw and stretching you out in the most delicious way. 

"Perfect, baby. Such a good listener, did exactly what I asked."

You cry out when he begins fucking you impossibly deeper, but still so slow and sweet.

"You feel so fucking good for me," he groans. "This is what you were made for, huh?" You agree enthusiastically, eyes fluttering shut. 

"Only for you."

Just three words—but he wasn’t expecting to like hearing you say that as much as he does. A strong desire to possess you overtakes him—one that he’ll probably have the decency to feel guilty about later, but for now feels fucking fantastic and intoxicating. 

"Only me?"

You moan an affirmation. 

"Good. I don’t want anyone else fucking you, do you understand me?"

"Yes!"

"I’m the only one who gets to touch you," he breathes, speeding up ever so slightly, "nobody else is going to feel you like this. Such a good girl, spreading her legs for me at five in the fucking morning. You’re not doing this for anybody else, baby."

"Uh-uh, please, pleasepleaseplease Spence—"

He knows what you need, reaching a hand down between your bodies to rub your clit. 

You gasp an airy, high pitched curse, hips twitching but unable to escape the near-punishing rhythm of his own. It’s obvious that your orgasm is close, but you can’t even warn him, too overwhelmed with pleasure. He kisses you, swallowing your moans that have probably become just a bit too loud given the whole hotel thing. 

No words are exchanged between the two of you as you near the finish line for a change, open mouths slipping against each others in what is too messy to be called a kiss. Your orgasm body-slams you, a choked silent scream as you tighten around Spencer and he seems to come at nearly the exact same moment—deep inside you, slowly rolling his hips in a few more strong thrusts as he finishes. 

You let out a delayed moan at the sensation of being filled up, still pulsing around him as he comes to a halt, buried inside of you. He drops his head to your neck, and you can feel each breath against your flushed skin. Other than the panting, you’re both silent for a while. Spencer seems to gather himself sooner than you do, finally breaking the quiet. 

"You okay?"

All you can manage is a little squeak, at which he looses a breathy chuckle. His hand slides to your hip, gently stroking the skin with a thumb. 

"Need your words, angel girl."

"I’m okay," you coo into his shoulder, but he has to strain to hear it above his own breathing. 

"Yeah? Why so quiet?"

But it seems that at least for the moment, he’s gotten all the words he can out of you. When he tries to move, you whimper indignantly, clutching onto him tighter. 

"I really did a number on you this time, huh?" He laughs when you nod into him. "Are you falling asleep?"

"Mhm," you hum dreamily, little puffs of warm air slowing against his neck. 

"You can have…" he cranes his head to check the digital clock, "48 minutes."

"An hour."

He settles his weight on you once more, pressing a chaste kiss to your throat. His voice is low and gentle as he admonishes you. 

"I said 48 minutes."

But it doesn’t matter—you’re already asleep, or close enough to it. Spencer takes the opportunity to shift you to your side, and the way you wrap around him like a vine even unconsciously makes his heart ache. He really should go now—the earlier he gets out of your room the less likely certain complications will arise—but how can he possibly leave you like this? A vulnerable, dreamy girl with tangled hair haloing around her on the pillow case, clinging to him with blind trust that he’ll watch over her as she sleeps? No—there’s no way he’s leaving yet. Instead, he brings you closer. 48 perfect minutes will go by far too quickly, he’s sure. 

[sweet1delusi0ns]

Naruto boys random headcanons──☆*:・ﾟ

Sfw

Characters: Naruto🦊,sasuke🗡️,Itachi🥀, kakashi🍃, kiba🐺, shikamaru🀄️,shino🪲,neji🎋,Lee🥋,choji🍥,gaara⏳,kankuro🪆

Naruto🦊-*

Hes lazy at home. Not because he’s tired he just wants you to take care of him, but when you call him a baby for all these requests he gets mad “I AM NOT A BABY! I AM A GROWN MAN! NOW SPOON FEED ME!”

He tries to prank you but fails, your too smart to fall for it. He always tries to trip you in public while walking and every time he is the one on the floor and your the one laughing some how-

He likes the idea of drawing and being an artist he just can’t draw. He can only draw stick people with different hair, one time he tried to draw you, gave up and instead gave you a picture of a stick person with your hair. It’s now on the fridge LOL

He tries to act cool around his friend with you but just makes a fool of himself. “Yeah this my bae so what?” “Yeah I’m his bae and he’s my baby, my big, soft, smiley baby!” His soul is now crushed and his friends all laughing

He sleeps like a ANIMAL. he full on can’t sleep normally, You both go to bed the same time, one of you is always gunna wake up on the floor, mostly you. Then he wakes up like “why you on the floor?”

Sasuke🗡️-*

He may seem cool but he gets very flustered. He doesn’t cover his face though he just closes his eyes so he doesn’t get more flustered and so he can ignore the fact that he is red

He CANT Dance, don’t EVER take him dancing. It’s not because he’s bad at dancing he just never learn. If there is music he will bop his head to the beat though, if you try to get him to dance he will freak out and freeze. He just doesn’t like it ok!

His waist is weirdly sensitive, you could barely touch his waist and he will start giggling. He isn’t ticklish anywhere else but if you take a feather to his waist he will start LAUGHING

He will kick your feet when he wants attention. If you guys are out to dinner with friends he will kick you under the table to get your attention, he thinks it’s funny until you fight back and stomp on his foot. He made you kiss his pain away at home, atleast he got attention LOL

He forgets the silliest things one time he forgot how to tie a knot so anything he needs to tie like his clothes or shoes you had to do for him. You don’t know if he actually forgot or if he just wanted to be babied-

Itachi🥀-*

He can’t handle heatwaves. If it’s over 90 degrees he’s gone for. One time you woke up on a heat wave morning waiting for him to wake up and walk out but he never did, you went to find him and he was in bed, sprawled out, shirt and covers off soaked in sweat. You had to rub ice on him to get him conscious -

Unlike naruto, he likes drawing and can ACTUALLY DRAW, although he can only draw plants but he doesn’t mind he likes plants! He will draw you flowers instead of buying you some which is like equally as cute~

He has very sensitive eyes. Like how he can’t handle heat he cant handle the sun either. If it isn’t cloudy he will have to squint to keep his eyes from hurting. When you told him to wear sun glasses he said “I still want to see you clearly though love…”

He’s not a big fan of skin care but he likes those face roller things. He bought one just so you could use it on him, he likes that it’s cold but also massaging!

He sneezes like a girl- he has the cutest, most petite sneeze you’ve ever heard out of a man which is cute and very funny. He doesn’t even realize it either “a-choo!” “That was crazy out of character” “huh?”

Kakashi🍃-*

He’s allergic to cats, he likes cats sure but he never hangs around them because he’s allergic. You didn’t know that and one day you brought a stray inside and he instantly turned puffy (poor thing)

Once he gets home and discards the mask he puts lip tint on. He has pink lips for that reason. When he first puts it on he will find you and kiss you just to leave a mark before waiting 10 minutes then whipping it off

He needs reading glasses but never uses them, then complains to you when he gets a headache as if you didn’t tell him to put them on

He takes a lot of baths. If he showers it bound to end up a bath. And he doesn’t care if your using the bathroom if he wants a bath he’s gunna make a god Danm bath. One time You were just washing your face and he busted in the door and ran to the bathtub, You washed your face as fast as you could-

He is EXTREMELY tired when he first wakes up, he doesn’t move for like 20 minutes so if he needs to get up and do stuff your gunna have to make him, like actually you’ll have the carry him out of bed.

Kiba🐺-*

He bites his nails from stress so you have made it a habit to smack his hand away when he does. It worked since all you have to do is tap him softly and he will stop. He’s so glad you help him get over bad habits

He decorated akamarus ears when he’s bored, one time you walk in on him giggling like a little girl and akamarus ears were pulled together in a little ponytail! You joined in on the fun🤞

He comes back from a casual walk along a complete mess, you have no idea how but one day he came back with half a bush stuck on his leg. He always cleans up though!

He sometimes transforms akamaru into himself to prank his friends or you, mostly you. One time akamaru came up to you as Kiba and started licking your face “EW OH MY GOD?!” “AUUFF AUF!” “KIBA YOUR NOT FUNNY”

He always has tan cheeks and nose. Compared to the rest of his face, his cheeks are cute and golden!

Shikamaru🀄️-*

He lets you win at intelligents based games to make you feel better. Except one time he actually tried and lost. He’s convinced you cheated

His hair is straight but gets very frizzy if not cared for. (You care for it since he’s lazyy)

He draws on himself when bored, mostly just trippy designs like swirls and stuff. Will also let you draw on him, only if your good tho he doesn’t want “bad drawing” on him😔

He has a box FULL of hair ties and will notice if you take one. “This one you literally stole from me?” “Don’t care put it back!!!”

He gets Freezingly cold at night, like really really cold. When he snuggles up to you to warm up you could feel how cold he really is and you don’t understand how since you are both under covers-

Shino🪲-*

He keeps bugs in the house so they can watch over anything, they are basically his security cameras-

His hair is so cute and wavy! Also gets very frizzy because of the texture like Shika. He also makes you take care of it, he just really likes you touching his hair

He gives you bugs as gifts, not like freaky beetles but cute little bugs like lady bugs or fuzzy green caterpillars. You find it cute that he gives you things that mean so much to him

He shockingly has a sensitive neck, only to you though. Bugs can crawl all over it and he doesn’t move but if you try to kiss it he gets chills. Also shockingly he has really soft skin idk maybe he sheds skin (IM JOKING)

When he gets home and can finally undress he lets you take his glasses off since you love his eyes and he loves that you love them. He gets insecure about it sometimes!

Neji🎋-*

He speak really highly and intelligently but he’s honestly a little dumb sometimes, or maybe he’s just dumb with you to be silly we don’t know

The only jewelry he really wears is an ankle bracelet you got him

He loves hair charms, he likes decorating his hair! He likes putting clips and braids in it, sometimes even put color streaks in it if he wants to be festive

He really likes pottery and making things out of clay, he’s very creative and he finds clay the perfect outlet. He even makes pots for you!

He has a flower garden that NO ONE is allowed in. He treats them like they’re his baby’s, because they are! He’s favorite plant he has is his cactuses.

Lee🥋-*

He’s extremely energetic and powerful yet he has asthma, he denies it. But if it’s really hot outside he runs out of breath REALLY fast which makes you worry

He’s scared of spiders you kill the spiders for him or he runs! If you trap a spider and chase him with it he will almost start crying (he will start crying) he’s ashamed to admit spiders are his weakness

He wears mascara, he gotta make them lashes voluminous yk. He stole his mascara from tenten too. You made him give it back to her and bought him his own

It’s pretty obvious but he is FLEXIBLE! Backbend, splits anything he can do. You thought he broke his spine onces-

He’s not much of a plant guy but he has the TINIEST succulent in your room that he cares for, every other plant he has had died but not that one~

Choji🍥-*

He loves finger painting and is actually really good at it, you’d think it was made by a professional and an actual paint brush but no it was Choji and his finger paint😭

His hair is so thick most hair ties he uses break. He has to use hair needles instead because it’s the only thing that holds if he wants his hair up for a while

He thinks pillow fights are actually entertaining he could have a pillow fight with you all day and never get bored. He goes crazy if he’s over at someone’s house and they suggest pillow fights!

He loves bath bombs!!! He basically died when you run him a bath and put bath bombs in it, his favorite scent it lavender. Even if you didn’t add a bath bomb he loves when you make him baths he thinks its adorable

He paints your cheeks like his in your sleep, that’s his idea of a prank even though it’s basically him just being a cutie “look now your like me y/n!!”

Gaara⏳-*

He turns the black rings around his eyes to cat eyes sometimes. He looks ADORABLE with cat eyes. He sometimes even uses eye shadow too, if he can’t change it he thought might as well make it look cutee

He’s scared of mosquitos, he just doesn’t like bugs that can fly and go after human blood it freaks him out

He wears one of those scent bracelets and puts your signature scent in it so he always smells like you~

He gifts you plants all the time

He collect the silliest things, there are these cute little cat charms at a near by store and he’s working on collecting them all!

Kankuro🪆-*

Shockingly he really likes reading. He likes fiction books the most, he asks you for suggestions

He asks you what new make up design he should try, sometimes he just gives you the brush and lets you go wild. But you always make him look cute~

He fidgets with the ears on his hat when he’s bored. It rubbed off on you so now if he’s around you with his hat on you start messing with them-

He steals your clothes and hides them so you have no choice but to ask to use his for the day. After the day is over he comes up to you smiling and hands you your missing clothes “found em!” “By found em do you mean took them out of the hiding spot?” “Yeah-”

He paints his nails either black, pink or purple. He also lets you paint them, it honestly just ends up a mess. He would totally whip nail polishes on your nose~

[viennakarma]

Satisfaction [Part 2]

PART 2 OF SATISFACTION

Summary: Four times Lewis tried to apologize, and one time he didn't need to.

Word count: 4.3k

Tags: female!reader, apologetic!Lewis (finally), physiotherapist!reader, a little bit of romance, Lewis is trying, reader is more forgiving than the author would be, cursing, a bit angsty, happy ending, not beta read

Relationship: Lewis Hamilton x Reader

Note: I'm so sorry for taking so long with this! I had a writer's block specifically with this one. For everyone who sent me asks about it, I read everything, sorry if I didn't reply to all! Luckily, one dramatic anon sent me an ask saying they would graduate college with a doctorate before this came out, and it made me laugh out loud BUT it actually sparked something in my brain and I managed to write, lol. So, thanks, Dramatic Anon, I owe you one :D

I'm sorry if it's rushed or full of mistakes (haven't had the time to proofread).

Find me on Twitter!

I.

“Hey, Lewis! How are you doing?” Angela said as soon as she picked up his call, and Lewis held his breath before answering.

“Yeah, uh, I’m alright-”, he scratched his face nervously.

“I hope you’re not giving Y/N a hard time anymore, yeah?” Angela joked a little, her voice light.

“Oh. You know about that?”

“Yeah, I called her a few days ago to check in how’s the work and she mentioned you were not very receptive,” Angela said and Lewis noticed that, even saying that, you didn’t call him what he was. A complete prick. “And since she didn’t call again, I assumed things got better between you two.”

“Well, about that-” Lewis sighed, not knowing.

“What?” Angela paused, her voice suddenly serious again.

“She resigned. And it was entirely my fault.” He ripped the band-aid off.

“Lewis, what the actual fuck?!”

“I was awful to her. Way worse than I assume she told you. And before you call me every name under the sun, I need to contact her and apologize. Unfortunately, she blocked my number now, so if you can kindly let me know her address, so I can apologize.”

“You better fix this mess, Lewis.” Angela said before ending the call, as less than a minute later, a text popped up on his screen, your address. Which was in London, not very far from his own neighborhood.

Lewis sent flowers to your place with a small note apologizing and asking you to unblock him. When you didn’t answer and didn’t unblock him, he called the florist he had ordered to double check if you had received the flowers. You did. So you just didn’t want to talk to him. He kept sending a bouquet every day for the next three days. On the fourth day, as he was back home, he decided to go to your place himself.

He brought another bouquet, ringing the bell in your house. He rose the bouquet to cover his face, and he heard your voice, opening.

“Hi there, buddy! If I give you a hundred pounds, would you not bother bringing these flowers here? Just- throw them on the bin or something-” You stopped abruptly as the flowers lowered revealing not the young delivery man who’s been bringing flowers to your place every single day, but Lewis Hamilton himself.

“So you’re not even receiving the flowers?” He asked, sounding hurt.

“I got the first one, and I have no interest in anything that comes from you,” you managed to say, looking him straight in the eyes.

You looked exhausted, your hair was messy and your face lacked any makeup. But worse of all, you looked hurt and angry. 

“Wait, let me just- let me apologize, I can explain even if it’s not-” He dropped the bouquet, pleading.

“Just fuck off, ok? You have not a single reason to be here today.”

“I was an ass to you and-”

“And now we’re nothing. We are just strangers, nothing more, nothing less. Fuck off!” You said and didn’t even give him a second before slamming the door on his face.

II.

So the flowers were a no.

And he wasn’t sure where to go from that, since he couldn’t come up with any other way to make you at least give him a chance to talk.

He was still trying to think of something when he crossed paths with Oscar Piastri during media day. Lewis stopped dead in his tracks as he saw the rookie driver munching on a little protein bar, the package showing it was the same as you had offered him weeks earlier.

“Hey, there, Oscar!” Lewis greeted him, “if you don’t mind me asking. Where did you get this?” He pointed to the little package in his hand.

“Oh, Lando’s new PT! She’s covering for Jon as he’ll be a few weeks on paternity leave.”

“Oh, is she here?”

“At McLaren, yes.”

Lewis nodded, going straight there, not bothering with explaining why he was there just walking in. He found you in a small room with Lando. You were guiding him through a stretching session with a silicone stretching. Lando was telling you something and you were laughing, a hand on his shoulder as Lando pulled his arms in and out.

“-no way you said that! Poor thing, she must have been scared!” You said, then you two laughed.

You were looking healthier than the last few times he had seen you. You looked like you had been sleeping well, and your hair was pretty, and you were wearing make up.

As Lewis approached, and you noticed his presence, you stopped laughing, face getting serious and focused on Lando.

“Oh, hey man!” Lando greeted him, smiley and unaware of the thing between you two.

“Hi. Y/N, can I talk to you? I just need one minute then I’ll leave you alone.”

You scoffed but didn’t look at him, and Lando looked from your face to Lewis’ confused with the tension suddenly so thick he would be able to cut it with a knife.

“Y/N, can you just-”

“You’re all good, Lando. Tomorrow we do another session an hour before Free Practice, and then a stretching session between FP1 and FP2.”

Lando nodded, unsure of what to do so he just watched as you turned away and packed your bag, leaving with long strides through the door. 

“Mate, I don’t know what the fuck you did, because I’ve never seen her be mean ever since I met her. Good luck, though, seems like you need it.” Lando said, leaving to the opposite side.

Lewis muttered “fuck” before going after you. He found you outside the motorhome, and ran up to block your path, but he miscalculated and you ended up running straight into him.

“What the fuck? Dude, just leave me alone!” You tried walking past him but he blocked you again.

“Please, I’m so sorry! Really, I am, I was such a dick to you and you didn’t deserve any of that.”

You didn’t look at his eyes, adjusting your bag as you sighed.

“I just- I don’t understand why you are doing this. I’m no one, I’m nothing. Just go on about your life.”

“No, no- You’re not nothing. I’m really sorry for the way I treated you when all you offered me was kindness.”

“Fine! Ok.” you muttered, seemingly exhausted, “Can I go now?”

He knew you didn’t actually forgive him, so he just let you go because he didn’t want to pressure you into something you were visibly not ready for. It didn’t mean he would give up, just that he needed a different approach.

III.

Lewis managed to find out that you’d stay a few more weeks working with Lando, so he arranged a well crafted plan to have you listen to him.

Desperate times asked for desperate measures.

So he managed to talk Lando into letting him drive you to the track that weekend, you two would have time to talk on the drive. He waited behind the wheel watching as you went to the backseat to leave your bags, then you opened the passenger door, smiling and chatting. But you stopped smiling as soon as you sat down and noticed him.

“What are you doing here?” You asked, sounding more annoyed than angry.

“I’m your ride to the track today.”

“I’d rather not,” you muttered, removing the seat belt you had just put on.

“There’s no one else to take you there, please, just let us go,” he asked softly. You sighed, putting on the seat belt again and he smiled reaching the cup holder and offering you a cup of coffee, “got you a coffee.”

“Thanks,” you took it begrudgingly, but as you took a sip, you noticed it was your favorite, “how do you know I like this coffee?”

“You told me, during one of our sessions.”

“I thought you weren’t listening to a single word I said,” you scoffed, almost disdainful. He took it, because taking your anger was little compared to what he did to you.

“I listened to you.”

“Weird way of showing, then.”

You stared at the road he was softly driving. You didn’t like his company, that much was clear, but he was on a mission, and he would be damned if he wasn’t going to properly apologize. 

“I don’t even know why you treated me like trash,” you muttered suddenly, sniffling like you were trying to contain the tears, “just- I was so happy, you know? I’ve always been a fan of Formula 1, watched it growing up and everything. Then I get here all happy to achieve the greatest dream and I just get treated like shit from day one. I tried to be funny, I tried to be kind, I tried to be silent, and none of it worked. I don’t understand what you want from me now! I’m a person too, ok? I get sad and frustrated, and I have my own problems, but I don’t go around making everyone else’s lives shit just because I’m mad!”

“Yes, you are right. I treated you like shit when you never deserved it. I really regret it, for what it's worth,” He sighed, looking at you for a moment before focusing on the road, “my life was shit. I know it’s not an excuse, but it’s the truth. I was just coming out of a relationship that I thought meant a lot to me, and I just lost Angela, who is one of my closest friends, and I was on the verge of losing my seat. It felt like everything was going wrong for a few weeks.”

That made you pause, turning to stare at him.

“What do you mean, losing your seat?” You sounded genuinely curious, and even a little worried.

“The negotiations for a new contract weren’t going ahead, and I was really worried Mercedes was going to get rid of me.”

“But you’re like- one of the GOATs! Why would they lose you?” Now you sounded exasperated, like you couldn't believe that. 

“Well, now everything is alright and signed, but it felt like I was really at risk back then.”

You stayed silent for a few minutes, mulling over his words, trying to wrap your head around his excuses. You were thoughtful the rest of the drive, until Lewis pulled up in a parking lot at the track. Finally, you nodded to yourself.

“I forgive you, Lewis. Just- Don’t do that to anyone ever again, it’s not cool,” you said, unlocking the seat belt, “thank you for the ride and for the effort in apologizing. Goodbye, Lewis.”

You took your bags from the backseat and left after waving at him again. It felt like a closed chapter to you, and you could bury whatever resentment you felt towards him. It was freeing in a way.

IV.

Lewis didn’t see you for a couple more race weeks, despite casually walking in front of McLaren’s garage and hospitality. He couldn’t catch a glimpse of you and he genuinely worried that your last goodbye was definitive.

Fortunately he saw you again late at night after a race. Almost everyone had left already, and Lewis had a long debriefing meeting with his team, so it was sheer luck to find you on the way to the parking lot, where you were standing against the wall, hugging yourself under a big coat and holding your bags. You seem worried and unwell.

“Hey,” he said, trying to sound like he wasn’t ecstatic to see you again, “are you ok?”

“Yeah, um- I missed my ride back to the hotel, so I’m trying for an uber or something,” you said, but Lewis unnoticed how you were pale and your lips looked dry.

“Are you sure you’re ok? You look like you’re about to pass out.” He pointed, and you breathed in, slowly. You felt very, very cold, with shivers up your body that you miserably trying to contain.

“I’ve got a little fever,” you mentioned, finally. Lewis raised his hand and touched your forehead, feeling it way more warm than a little fever.

“Little fever? You’re burning!” He exclaimed, putting his own Mercedes coat over you, then taking your bags and putting them over his shoulder, “Come on, I’ll give you a ride back.”

“You don’t have to, really-”

“I’m not leaving you here in the late hours of the night while having a fever! Now, come on!”

He held your forearm, worried you’d stumble and fall or something. With a big umbrella to face the rain, he guided you to his car, where a driver was waiting. The two of you sat on the backseat as Lewis instructed the driver to take you to the hotel.

“Should we take you to see a doctor or something?” Lewis asked.

“No, don’t worry, I already took an antipyretic. It should work soon.”

Back in the hotel, Lewis accompanied you up to your room even when you wanted to refuse, but he said he was worried, and it felt honest, so you let him take you up. He didn’t let you say anything as he pushed the door of your room and walked you inside.

“Are you still feeling cold?” He asked.

“Yes,” you put your bags away, but you watched as Lewis went into your luggage, “um- excuse me?” you crossed your arms, annoyed at him going through your things.

“Change into this, it will keep you warm,” he tossed you a sweater and matching pants, “I’ll ask room service for soup, so you can warm up.”

Huffing, you went into the bathroom and changed, glad because you were in fact a little bit warmer. You wore socks for the cold and got into bed, where Lewis helped tuck you in, pulling the duvet tight around you.

“Why are you doing all this? We’re just strangers, Lewis.” You shook your head, watching as he walked around the bed and sat beside you over the duvet.

“We’re not strangers, and I wanted to help,” he shrugged.

“We are strangers, we know nothing about each other,” you muttered.

“Well, I’m Lewis, my favorite color is purple and I have a dog named Roscoe,” he said which made you chuckle a little, “there, not strangers anymore.”

“Well, I’m Y/N, my favorite color is yellow and I don’t have a pet yet, but hopefully soon.”

Lewis eyed you carefully.

“I know you’re with McLaren on a temporary contract, so I was wondering if you’d be willing to come back to Mercedes after that,” he said, slowly. You sighed, shaking your head.

“I won’t go back, Lewis.” You said softly, for him to know you weren’t angry anymore, but the world had spun, life went on…

“But- Ellie said you were such a big fan! It’s ok if you don’t want to work with me anymore, I’ll understand. But I don’t think it’s fair that you lose your chance in such a big dream because of an asshole like me!”

“There are always other dreams to have, Lewis. When a door closes, others may open,” you untucked your arm so you could hold his arm in comfort. He held your hand, and when he felt your cold hand, he rubbed it softly, to warm you up.

“It’s not fair-”

“Lewis, I’m moving to Madrid in a few weeks.”

He stopped, visibly deflated hearing your words.

“I’m so sorry, I should’ve never-”

“Lewis, it’s not because of you,” you pushed the duvet, freeing yourself so you could sit up beside him, backs to the headboard, “I got an amazing offer from Real Madrid. I’m gonna join their PT team.”

“Oh.”

His stomach dropped once again, thinking that life would lead you two different paths, new future, new plans, and Lewis won’t even be able to make it up to you through time as he was hoping for. Lewis expected that, with you coming back to Mercedes, he would have time to apologize with actions, more than just words.

“They’re my favorite football team, and I’ve always dreamed of getting there,” when you noticed how down he was with the news of your departure, you pressed his hand a bit more, “I told you there are many dreams to achieve.”

“You wouldn’t have to worry about it if I hadn’t been so-”

“That’s enough, Lewis, it has nothing to do with you. This is my choice, something that I also dreamed of. It’s not the end of the world. If anything, there are lessons in what we went through.”

He wanted to ask you to stay, to give him and the Mercedes dream one more chance, but he knew it would be selfish of him to ask that. And he wasn’t willing to be selfish with you anymore. He would only have maybe a few more weeks with you, that he intended to nurture a friendship with you.

When your soup arrived, he stayed and watched you eat, and you thanked him profusely as the meds started working and you felt the fever dissipating.

V.

Lewis ended up going back to McLaren to find you all the time. Sometimes he brought a coffee for you, some other times he just wanted to invite you to lunch, or he wanted a protein bar, and after almost two weeks of that, his excuses ran dry and he only said he wanted to check on you. and he had been checking on you for a couple more weeks now.

“So…” Lando muttered with a knowing smirk, “you and Lewis, uh?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you said, as you spotted Lando from behind, analyzing his squats.

“You went from hating him to becoming his friend pretty quickly,” Lando pointed.

“And…?”

“I don’t know but he’s here all the time to see you.”

“Nah, he’s just passing by.”

Lando let go of teasing you and switched topics to talk about something else for the remainder of your session. After you finished and Lando went for the post race debrief, you were getting ready to leave when Lewis found you again.

“What do you want?” You squinted your eyes at him. Lando’s teasing voice still in your head.

“Moody, are we?” Lewis joked, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall.

“Lewis.”

“Fine, fine! I’m taking you to dinner later today, ok?”

“Are you asking me out or demanding?” You frowned, pretending to be moody.

“I’m inviting you and implying I’m not taking no for an answer,” He winked.

“Lewis, I don’t think we-”

“Think of it as a farewell, celebratory dinner, yes? You’re leaving so soon to Madrid! Pretty please?” He joined both hands like he was begging.

“Fine. Stop pouting.” You rolled your eyes and he giggled, before leaving.

He texted you two hours later saying he was coming to pick you up. You dressed cozy and comfortable, since it was absolutely not a date. He texted you to let you know he was downstairs when you were finishing with your hair. As soon as you got in the car, you checked Lewis’ outfit.

“Is this ok?” You asked, pointing at yourself.

“It’s perfect.”

Lewis drove for forty minutes to the next town over. In the end, he took you to a cozy restaurant, small, a little cramped but so familial and cozy. You two sat in a corner booth, far from the windows. You went over the menu as Lewis explained that this place’s food tasted homemade and they also had vegan options, so he always went there whenever he was in that part of Italy.

You told Lewis everything about your move, how you had found a great apartment close to work, how you had enrolled in Spanish classes to start a month after your arrival, and everything.

After a hearty meal and chatting a lot, you two decided to go for a walk to eat some ice cream. The air was windy but not very cold, so you just walked side by side a little late at night.

“Are you sure nobody will see us?” You looked around to see if anyone had recognised him or had taken pictures.

“Yes, it’s very discreet in this part of town. Besides, it’s a little late, so not many people are around.”

“This is a very good gelato, Lewis! Thanks for taking me out today.” You muttered as the two of you walked around a big, dark park. You stood under a lamp post, finishing the last of your ice cream.

“How are you feeling about Madrid?” He asked you, looking interested.

“Nervous. Excited. I don’t know.” You whispered, smiling, you held the lamp post and let it take your weight as you flung around, all smiley because of the bit of wine you had at the restaurant, “It’s like a new adventure. You know when you’re about to do something that might be risky but gratifying? You’re scared but you have to-”

As you completed a full 360 around the lamp post, you were met with Lewis walking up to you and kissing you. He pressed his lips to yours, firm but tender, and it took you a while to assimilate what was happening. You held his coat and pushed him away only enough to break the kiss. The lime gelato kiss that had your stomach full of butterflies, and your heart beating almost out of its cage.

“Lewis-” you shook your head, still confused.

“Sorry, I- I just couldn’t pass on the opportunity,” he sighed and his breath fanned your cheek.

“We shouldn’t,”

“Why not?” He raised one hand to cradle your face, his thumb running your cheek.

“Because we started too messy. And- and I’m leaving soon. We don’t need to complicate things.”

You whispered, still not pulling away fully. You wanted it, so bad. But you knew you couldn’t get tangled in a messy situationship right before leaving. He was tempting, but you weren’t willing to risk whatever time was left of your silly little friendship.

So you took a step back. Still, you took his hand in yours, letting his warmth engulf you.

“Sorry,” he cleared his throat, but you just smiled at him, seeing how he was memorizing your face, and how your eyes were shining bright for him.

“It’s ok. Just, wrong place and wrong time, right?”

He gulped, nodding.

You didn’t kiss again, but Lewis held your hand the whole drive back to Monza.

Understandably, Lewis didn’t come back for your last week at McLaren. Despite being a little hurt about his absence, it didn’t really upset you, deep down you knew that it was better like this. The distance would make the goodbye easier for the man who wormed his way into your life. The whole team at McLaren gave you a farewell cake, which was sweet considering you were just a temporary hire.

You had tears in your eyes saying goodbye to the team and to the formula 1 track.

After that, you went back to London to finish packing, and shipping a few of your furniture and belongings. The dinner with your family and closest friends was filled with tears, and you finally caught up with Angela, explaining everything that had happened.

When the day came, your parents and siblings took you to the airport and you said goodbye with teary eyes and a heavy heart.

You were about to board when a sudden commotion caught your attention, and from between the crowd Lewis Hamilton emerged, running towards you as if he were in a marathon. Confused and shocked, you waited for him to get closer, and as soon as he stopped in front of you, he held your face with both hands and pulled you in a kiss. After two seconds, you returned the kiss, deepening it by opening your lips. He devoured you for a couple more seconds, before pulling away when you were both panting.

“Lewis? What the fuck?”

“This doesn’t have to be a goodbye, right? We can- I don’t know, we can figure it out,” He muttered, face close to you.

“Lewis,” you hesitated, “I’m moving away. We’ll spend most of out time in different time zones-”

“Wouldn’t you like to try? It’s better to try than spend our lives haunted by what ifs” His argument was convincing. And the fact that he was just centimeters from your face, and the fact that you had just kissed and his cologne was divine… Very tempting.

“Lewis, the next time you cause a scene in front of an entire airport, I’m killing you,” you whispered, pecking his lips once more as the crowd dissipated of people boarding the plane.

“I wanted it to be memorable, like a romcom.”

“You’re annoying, that’s what you are. You’re lucky you’re handsome” You rolled your eyes, but Lewis could still see the big smile on your face, eyes glinting.

“Is that a yes to my question?”

“One date, Hamilton. And we’ll see where it will go from that” You smiled, pushing his chest, taking a step back.

“I’m going to Madrid as soon as the triple header is over,” He promised, pulling you close again by the waist.

“You better! I don’t know, maybe I will meet a handsome Spaniard,” You joked, playing hard to get. You closed the distance so you could whisper in his ear, “You better work if you want any prize, pretty boy.”

He gasped at your seductive words, and you pushed him away. He smiled at you. Pulling one of his necklaces, he put it around your neck, a pearl one, very beautiful. The airport called all the passengers for the flight.

“A promise. Yeah?” He said, holding the necklace softly.

“Yeah. See you soon?” You nodded.

“See you soon.”

He watched as you walked away, and before boarding, you turned around and blew him a kiss. He laughed, pretending it hit him right over his heart.

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[al-the-remix]

BuckTommy Whump Week Day 4: Prompts: Getting shot // Chronic pain

Another fic for @bucktommywhumpweek! I'm hoping to finish a few more of these before the week is actually over, lol. Rated: E ... I don't know if this really qualifies as whump (like my last whump week fic 💀) but I just can't help making them all sappy atm.

What people didn’t know about bullets was that they rarely went through-and-through in a nice neat manner; not through walls, or car doors, or flesh. They bounced around inside you like a rubber ball, inflicting the most damage possible. 

Buck had seen the aftermath more times than would have liked to. 

The memory of being called to his first GSW was a visceral one, it had been a domestic dispute and once they’d loaded the victim into the bus, Hen had rubbed his back as he’d thrown up into some nearby shrubbery. Buck could still feel the acid burn in the back of his throat when he remembered it. 

He’d seen cadaver photos in his text books, but those never compared to the real thing. The sheer volume of blood that poured out of people was enough to make him nauseous just thinking about it. The cartoonish version of a bullet hole that he’d carried around in his head for most of his life just hadn’t held up. 

Maybe it had been shortsighted of him, but Buck had never taken the time to consider what might come later; not until Tommy had taken Buck’s hand in his own and laid it over the meat of his shoulder and let Buck feel the little knobs of bullet fragments lodged there, like ball bearings trapped beneath his skin. 

“Do they bother you?” Buck asked, in wonder. 

“Not often,” Tommy replied, his hand still blanketing Buck’s as he let him dig his fingers into his shoulder muscle like he would be more than happy to just leave it there forever. “Most of the time I forget they're even there.”

Buck found that hard to believe. He couldn’t imagine having a foreign object stuck in his body and not obsessing over it every moment of every day. 

Tommy was giving him an amused, knowing look. 

“What?” 

“You’re going to be thinking about those for a while aren’t you?”

Buck huffed, rolling his eyes. It was a little unsettling maybe, sometimes, being understood so through and quickly by another person. He liked it; it made him feel all shivery and warm inside, but more importantly it made him feel daring. Bold. 

“Yeah, maybe I will.”

Tommy took Buck’s hand in his own: his palm big, warm and dry, and slid it down to rest on the muscular curve of his outer thigh. “There’s some more over here too,” he said, wiggling his eyebrows as Buck gave all the nice warm flesh there a squeeze.

There wasn’t a lot of talking after that, but Tommy had been right, Buck had thought about it for a while, his mind stuck on invisible scars and mementoes carried around inside you that no one else could see. 

///

Buck wasn’t sure if it was the thunder or the soft orange glow spilling into the mezzanine that woke him. Quiet noises came from the kitchen below, the muted purr of the kettle and the shuffle of Tommy’s socked feet against the tile. Tommy had still been in Buck’s bed when he’d fallen asleep hours ago, tucked up against Tommy’s side as Tommy read by the lamp light.

Buck pulled on his sweatpants and made his way down to the main floor, feeling oddly awake for 4 am. He rarely had a bad night’s sleep when Tommy was with him, taking up space in Buck’s bed and stealing his covers. 

Tommy sent him a guilty look when he noticed Buck, like he’d been caught doing something he shouldn’t have been, not pulling honey from Buck’s kitchen cabinet. He was wearing one of Buck’s old hoodies and some sleep shorts. The circles under his eyes were dark and deep. “I didn’t want to wake you,” he whispered like Buck might be standing there in front of him, still asleep.

“I don’t mind,” Buck said and meant it. He wasn't the one with the shift in far too few hours.

Buck leaned back against the edge of the counter crossing his arms as he did, and settled in. He knew whatever was bothering Tommy would work its way out on its own, like a splinter buried beneath skin. He watched quietly as Tommy stirred honey into his tea. Buck was no stranger to sleepless nights and aching bones. Tommy had sat with him through some of the more recent bad nights, endlessly patient. 

Buck watched him closely, quietly analyzing the tilt of his body and the clench of his jaw as Tommy leaned against the counter opposite him. The cool light from the stove hugged the contours of his face, digging out dark wedges beneath those cheekbones that could cut glass. 

“Well, aren't you gonna ask?”

Buck shrugged. “I figured I'd just wait you out.”

Tommy sighed, setting his mug to the side. He was smart enough to know when he was on the losing side of a battle. “It's the scar tissue around the shrapnel I've still got in me. Every so often it begins to pull in uncomfortable ways and makes it impossible to get settled.”

“Is there anything I can do?”

Tommy tilted his head like he was really considering Buck and his words. “Honestly I don't know, I normally just take an Ibuprofen and put on a movie or something and try to just ignore it.”

“Well, I think we can do better than that,” Buck said, and Tomy raised a brow, curiosity peaked.

With hands planted firmly on Tommy’s shoulders, Buck guided him back upstairs to bed and got him splayed out on his belly across the center of the mattress on a towel, sweater-less, with his arms tucked comfortably under his head. 

“Finally, just where I want you,” Buck teased as he straddled Tommy’s waist, reaching for the massage oil. He could feel Tommy’s laugh vibrate through his ribcage, muffled by the pillow.

Buck admired the span of Tommy’s back as he warmed the oil up between his hands, deciding where to begin. The bullet and shrapnel scars were faint now, Buck knew their locations by memory and feel alone. He started by smoothing his hands up the center of Tommy’s back, following the column of his spine and the thick muscles flanking it, getting Tommy warmed up and used to his touch before applying more pressure. 

Buck always preferred to talk while he worked, and with Tommy the smooth flow of words came easy. If he let himself, he could probably let his mouth run for hours, and Tommy would listen. 

“You know, I wanted to be a masseuse for a while.”

Tommy hummed, his eyes had drifted shut when Buck began to work on the tight knot of tissue just below his shoulder blade, he peeled one open now, offering Buck an amused look over his shoulder. “And which hunky guy did you follow that career into?”

“Ha ha,” Buck said, poking his fingers playfully into Tommy's side, just to watch him squirm. “Actually, it was after working at the ranch, there was this ex bronco rider, who had compressed his spine one too many times, mucking out stalls with me. He told me all about how his girlfriend had taken massage therapy classes to help him with his back because his insurance wouldn’t cover the treatment.” 

“Ah, so it was a hunky girl that time.”

Buck chuckled. He liked how easy it was to talk with Tommy about stuff like this; he wasn’t ashamed of  himself or his past, but he was wary of how people might perceive him because of it. He’d wanted so badly for Tommy to think of him as a serious person, to know that Buck was all in. That dating him didn’t imply some sort of unspoken risk–and with Tommy it never had. 

“You know me–I always liked the idea of helping people, I just didn't know how, yet.” 

“Maybe I’m being selfish, but I think you ended up right where you were supposed to be,” Tommy said, and groaned in pleasure when Buck really started working at the scar tissue webbed deep within his back muscle.

“How’s that feel?” Buck asked, anticipating Tommy's approval.

“Fucking awesome.”

Buck grinned. He knew he was good with his hands, but it was a whole nother thing entirely to be good with his hands for Tommy. Pleased with himself, a heavy satisfaction settled warm in the pit of his stomach. He loved everything about this: having Tommy pliable and relaxed beneath him, working slick skin over with his hands, making Tommy feel good, being able to help in some small way.

Buck shuffled down, straddling Tommy’s leg so he could work his fingers into the outside of Tommy’s thigh where he knew a metal shard the size of his thumbnail lived. That one had been logged in there when an IED had struck the lead vehicle in their convoy, and some of Buck’s satisfaction melted away as he thought about just how many close calls his boyfriend’s body was littered with. He was normally the one getting shit for taking risks, but in truth Tommy was just as guilty as he was. 

Tommy had gone completely boneless underneath him, his skin pink and a little shiny from having Buck’s oiled up hands all over him. He continued to rub gently circles into his skin even after he’d finished with the final shrapnel wound he knew of, running his nails lightly over the thick swirls of hair on the backs of Tommy’s legs. 

Tommy shifted his hips against the mattress, spreading his legs a little wider. Buck knew that move, and that satisfaction in his gut twisted and flared back to life. He slid his hands up the backs of Tommy’s thighs as slowly as he could handle.

“Are you hard?” he asked, worming his fingers under the hem of Tommy’s shorts when he reached them. 

“Yeah,” Tommy sighed. “That felt really good, but, uh, we don’t have to do anything, you must be tired and–”

He was starting to sound way too with it for Buck’s liking. Buck dug his thumbs into the soft inner flesh of Tommy’s thighs and let his hips roll in a slow, pointed drag along the back of Tommy’s leg so there was no way he could miss the semi Buck was sporting.

Tommy’s muscles jumped under his hands as he groaned. “Okay, Okay, you’ve made your point. Help me out of these–”

Buck was more than happy to peel Tommy’s shorts down his legs as Tommy lifted his hips obligingly. He had half a mind to just dump a generous amount of the oil on Tommy’s big pale ass and go to town, but he had a feeling that would probably ruin the [slowly winding] mood they’d built. 

In a show of what he considered great restraint, Buck slipped a slick hand between Tommy’s thighs, rolling his balls softly in the palm of his hand just to hear the noises he would make. Quiet chuffs and deep groans were muffled by the pillow as Tommy ground his hips in lazy circles against the mattress and back into Buck’s hand, and Buck was starting to think he’d never get over how good it felt to have another man like this: a big body to push and pull and work at until it ultimately unraveled.

Buck stretched up so he could press a kiss to the thick curve of Tommy’s shoulder, not caring one bit about the oil that still clung to his skin. He let his hand drift up and rubbed his slick fingers indulgently over Tommy’s asshole, gratified by the way he moaned and pushed into it. 

“You can if you want to,” Tommy said, breathless, and Buck could tell without even looking at his face how gone he was just from having Buck’s hands on him. 

“I have a better idea,” Buck said, pulling at Tommy’s hip. “Here–roll onto your side for me.”

It didn’t take Tommy long to clue in once Buck pressed himself all up along his back and reached for the bottle of oil again, slicking his dick up in the shallow space between their bodies. 

His body tensed when realization dawned. “Yeah. Fuck, yeah. Evan– ” 

And it was Tommy’s turn to lose his cool, his voice reedy and feverish, a thin tremor through his body as Buck maneuvered his thigh so he could fit his dick into that hot, tight space between them. He wrapped an arm around the barrel of Tommy’s chest, pinning him tight against his own as Buck took that first long, indulgent roll of his hips. 

Buck had always enjoyed fucking someone’s thighs–what wasn’t there to like–but there was something specific about the way Tommy got so worked up over it, even in the early hours of the morning after a sleepless night, even when Buck had just worked his body to jello with his hands, that rocketed the act up into the stratosphere.

Tommy squeezed his thighs around him, Buck could hear the labored cadence of his breathing and the obscene sounds of him fisting his own cock, as Buck fucked the slick give of his thighs. The way the head of his dick kept nudging up against the soft resistance of Tommy’s balls with every stroke was still just different enough to scratch at Buck’s brain in new and interesting ways.

Tommy’s fingers dug into his hair, pulling Buck’s face down so he could slide their mouth together at an awkward angle. The kiss was sloppy, Tommy kept sucking Buck’s tongue into his mouth and then breaking away to moan again and again as he got closer to coming. Buck could feel it all through his body, wound like a coil ready to spring. He wasn’t far behind, his plan to keep things slow and simmering had fallen through quickly. He should have known better; with Tommy pressed against him like one big throbbing pulse, overwhelming Buck’s senses with the musky scent of his body, and the sounds he made when he touched himself, and how good it felt to rut against him like this, the desperate slide of skin against skin, there was just no chance he was going to last.  

Buck buried his face in the hollow of Tommy’s shoulder, just above where that pale constellation of shrapnel lived, and stilled as he came in thick pulses all along Tommy’s taint, that little space between his thighs instantly going wet and frictionless. 

Tommy made a wounded sound, and Buck held him tight in the cradle of his arms as Tommy hitched his hips into his fist until he came. He was still pressing kisses against Tommy’s damp hairline when Tommy reached up and laced their fingers together, no longer shaking. 

“Well, I’m definitely not thinking about the stupid shrapnel anymore.”

“Good,” Buck said, allowing himself to feel smug about it. “My work here is done.”

“Not so quick hot stuff,” Tommy said, reaching back to pat him on the hip. “I expect your help de-oiling in the shower. I think this mess is a four-handed operation.”

“Yes, sir.” Buck peeled himself from where he’d been clinging to Tommy like a limpet.

He took a moment to admire the long, glistening stretch of Tommy’s body, limp and satisfied. Debauched, even.

"What?" Tommy asked, stretching his arms above his head as he rolled onto his back, offering Buck a good view of where his come was actively drying in his happy trail. Buck would have a fun time scrubbing that out.

"Nothing, I'm just happy you're here, with me."

Tommy face went immediately soft and he pressed up on his knees so he could pull Buck into one more lingering kiss before breaking away.

"There's no where I'd rather be."

[wzrd-wheezes]

Sharing - Sirius Black x Remus Lupin x Reader

AN - this was supposed to just be a Sirius smut but then my finger slipped and it turned into a threesome. This is filthy so read at your own risk. I’ll list the warnings below and as always, minors dni. (also i literally didn’t proof read this because tbh i couldn’t be arsed so sorry x)

contains: kind toxic!sirius/ fuckboy!sirius. friends with benefits, so much sex, oral and anal lol. dirty talk, degradation, dumbification kinda, choking and just general filth. read at ur own risk <3

Sirius let himself into Y/N’s flat, as he often did. It was a wonder that he didn’t have the spare key given the fact that he came over nearly every night. He walked into the living room confidently, the room instantly filling with the scent of his aftershave. Y/N was lounging on the sofa, curled up in the corner with a book clutched in her hand. She barely looked up when he came in, he only got her attention when he was stood right in front of her.  

He was tall, he towered over Y/N by at least a foot and was broad in the shoulders, his black hair falling in waves just below his chin. His eyes were dark, rimmed with thick dark lashes that stared down at Y/N. Even though she wasn’t his girlfriend, he treated her with a possessive air that bordered on territorial, constantly flirting and placing a possessive hand on her back or hip whenever he could manage in. 

“We meet again.” He finally spoke, his voice like a siren song. Y/N felt her heart rate speed up, her ears burning from the heat rising in her body, “What are you reading? Is it any good?” he asked, cocky smirk playing on his lips as his eyes flitted down her body, settling on the book in her hand.  

“Yeah it is actually,” Y/N finally looked up at him properly and quickly flashed him the cover of her book, “Remus lent it to me.”  

“Oh, he did, did he?” Sirius chuckled, sitting next to her on the sofa and resting on of his hands on her hip. His lips curled up into a mocking smile as he looked down at her, still taller than her even sitting down. Despite his smile, his eyes had a serious glint, “How is Remus, anyways?” 

“He’s fine.” Y/N looked back down at her book, “He’s your best friend, you should know.” 

“You’ve been spending a lot of time with him, haven’t you?” Sirius asked, ignoring her last comment. His hand wandered upward, settling on her side above her hip. There’s a look in his eyes that makes her insides tighten and her whole body stiffens up in response. 

“We’re friends.” 

“Are you sure that’s all that you are?” His eyes travelled down her body, his smirk never leaving his face, “Because I think that there is... something else between you.” He paused, his gaze drifting back up to meet her own. The look in his eyes made her breath hitch. 

“There’s not.” Y/N sighed, used to having been through this before, “I’m not sure why you’d be bothered if there was.” She closed her book and reached over to place it on the coffee table. Sirius’s hand never left her waist the whole time.  

“I’m not bothered at all.” he said smoothly, “I’m just curious.” 

Y/N didn’t say anything, she knew instantly that it was a lie. She’d seen his competitive side many times before and was used to the way that he would get incredibly possessive over her.  

“I think you’re lying, love.” his hand creeped up to cup her cheek, his thumb softly brushing over her skin, “I know you’ve been spending more time with him, and I know that you’re not just going over to swap books like you tell everyone.” he continued, his voice husky. 

“So, what?” Y/N turned to face him properly, “I’m not your girlfriend?” 

“You know that I don’t want to share.”  

“That’s hilarious,” she scoffed, “I know full well that you’re also sleeping with other people.” 

“I can see and sleep with other girls.” he replied, his expression unchanging, “It’s not like we’re exclusive. I just don’t like it when you do it.” 

He pulled her closer to him, his body pressing against hers. His fingers searched for the bottom of her shirt tugging at it slightly to expose some of her midriff and trailed his fingers down her bare skin. He pulled her so she was entangled in his arms, her head leaning against his chest. 

“Did you sleep with Remus?” he pressed. Y/N didn’t reply and Sirius just cocked an eyebrow at her, “I knew you had something going on. I’m not stupid and I don’t miss anything. I always know when you’re trying to hide something from me.” 

“I wasn’t trying to hide it. Just didn’t think you’d appreciate me telling you that I was sleeping with your best mate.”  

“Oh, I already knew.” Sirius smirked, “He told me the other day, I just wanted to hear you admit it.” 

Y/N rolled her eyes at him. He was so infuriating sometimes. He had this air about him that just seemed to get him whatever he wanted. He was like a spoiled child that wasn’t used to not getting his own way or being told no.  

“Was it good?” he asked, his voice low. He reached up and tangled his fingers in her hair. 

The girl just nodded in response, not really knowing how to reply properly. She avoided his eyes, hoping that he wouldn’t notice that he was making her flustered. Sirius’s fingered tightened in her hair, pulling her head back so he could look at her. 

“Tell me about it.” he breathed, bending down towards her, “Did you like how he touched you? How he kissed you?” His voice was dark and hoarse, and she could sense the jealous and possessiveness rolling off of him.” 

“I never thought I’d see the day where Sirius Black gets jealous.” Y/N laughed, trying to take control of the situation. 

“I’m always jealous.” his voice was softer now, “Jealous of the things and the people that you give your attention to. I always want to be the only one that you have eyes for. That’s how it should be. His face was so close now that their noses were almost touching. He drew her close to him, his hands sneaking up her shirt and running down her bare back. He trailed his lips across her cheek and the soft whisper of his breath made her shiver. 

“You’re ridiculous.” 

“And you love it.” he chuckled, “You love my touch, my attention... and I bet you loved Remus touching you as well.” 

“Shut up.” 

“Is this making you a bit uncomfortable?” The grin on his face widened and his eyebrows raised. He leaned closer again, his lips brushing against her ear, “You loved it, didn’t you? You like when Remus touched you... touched you where only I’m allowed.”  

“Tell me... did you like it?” His breath caught for a moment, the note of possessiveness back in his voice, “Did you like his hands on your skin, his lips on yours?” 

“Yes! Fine! Yes, I liked it!” Y/N exclaimed, defeated by his relentless questioning.  

“Do you want it to happen again?” he whispered, “Would you allow it, if he was here right now?” 

“What? Here with you as well?” 

“Perhaps,” he said, smiling again, “I could allow it. Would you like that, love?” His head dipped down and he caught her lips with his own, pulling her lower lip into his mouth with his teeth. 

“Answer me.” he pulled away from her, “Would you like me and Remus?” 

“Y-yeah...” 

Sirius’s eyes flicked for a brief moment and the look of sheer elation on his face was almost comical. He crashed his lips against hers once again, this time the kiss was harsh and messy. His tongue forcing it’s way into her mouth and clashing against hers. 

 “Are you sure you can handle the two of us, darling?” he leaned back and his face twisted into a cocky grin, “That’s a lot to handle, you know.” his hand slid from her side to the back of her neck, bringing her close to him once more. With his other hand, he traced the fabric of her shirt, the tip of his finger just lightly brushing the skin of her stomach. 

“I want to. I’m sure.” 

“Oh, I know you want to.” he grinned, “So when should he come? Should I call him right now?” 

“Y-yeah. Call him now.”  

“You’re quite eager, aren’t you? You want him that bad already?” his eyes flickered down her neck, “Makes me wonder what else you’d be willing to do with a little motivation.”  

Sirius grinned at her, his eyes glittering as he watched her respond. Y/N’s heart was hammering in her chest, her mind whirling from all the possibilities and thoughts racing through it. The dark-haired boy left the room, swiftly shutting the door behind him. Y/N could hear him murmuring as he spoke, presumably on the phone to Remus.  

The door swung open and Sirius strutted back into the room, grin once again plastered on his face. This time, however, he didn’t sit back down on the sofa next to Y/N. Instead, opting to lean against the door frame, his hands tucked into the pockets of his jeans.  

“He’s on his way.” he announced, “How about we go to your room and get started? I’ll leave the front door unlocked for him, yeah?” 

Y/N nodded and quickly got up, following him into her bedroom. Within seconds, Sirius had her pushed on the bed, sprawled out across the sheets. He climbed on top of her, all but pinning her down beneath him. Hot, messy kisses were pressed against her throat, Sirius’s fingers tangling in her hair. 

Y/N jumped as she felt another presence next to her, the bed dipping down slightly as someone else climbed onto it. Another set of fingers weaved into her hair, pulling her head back from where Sirius was kissing her.  

“Thought you said you were going to wait f’me?” Remus asked, his voice gruff.  

“Couldn’t help myself. You understand, right?” Sirus smirked. Remus grinned back at him. 

“You’re sure about this, yeah?” Remus asked, pulling Y/N up so she was sitting in front of them both. 

“I’m sure.” 

“Good girl.” Remus said, his voice low, “Are you ready for the two of us to ruin you?” 

Remus captured her mouth with his, his hand trailing down her side, her stomach tightening at his touch. His lips were warm and soft, but firm, and he wasn’t gentle as he pushed her back down onto the bed.  

Sirius moved so that he was sat behind Y/N, her fitting perfectly into the space between his legs, her back resting against his chest. He wrapped his arms around her protectively and ducked his head down so he could whisper in her ear.  

“Are you going to let him touch you?” he murmured, his eyes flicking to Remus who was making short work of undoing her trousers and shuffling them down her legs, “You going to let him do whatever her wants? Going to let him ruin you?” 

“I thought you didn’t like to share?” Y/N said, her voice breathless but still somehow managing to tease him. 

“I can make an exception for this,” he shrugged, “And the answer is yes. You’re going to let him do whatever he wants. You’re going to let him touch you anywhere, everywhere. Do you understand?” 

Y/N barely got chance to reply as Sirius’s ring clad fingers wrapped around her throat, applying pressure to the sides. Her eyes fluttered shut, lips parted slightly. A moan slipped out of her mouth as Remus buried his head between her thighs. Y/N’s body arched against Sirius’s as Remus’s tongue darted across her clit. He looked up at her, his chin glistening with her wetness.  

“She’s a good little slut, isn’t she?” Remus said, his hands gently playing over her body. 

“Mhm, the best.” 

Sirius moved so that she was now laying flat on the bed with him kneeling next to her head. He unzipped his trousers, pulling out his member. He pumped it a few times before lifting her head up to meet it. The tip of it bumped against her lips and she quickly opened her mouth to take him inside. Sirius let out a low groan as her lips wrapped around him, her tongue swirling across the head of his dick.  

“Looks so pretty with a cock in her mouth, too.” he said, affectionately stroking her hair as he thrust into her. He laughed when she gagged, one of his thrusts being slightly deeper than she was used to, “What? Too big for you, love?” 

Remus chuckled, shuffling up the bed and kneeling the other side of Y/N. Like Sirius, he also removed his trousers, his cock now bobbing in front of her face. Remus’s teeth sunk into his bottom lip as she switched between him and Sirius, sucking on each of their dicks for a few moments before swapping to the other one. Whoevers dick wasn’t currently in her mouth was being stroke by her spare hand, not wanting to leave one of the unattended. The room was filled with filthy groan and grunts for the two men as they had their way with her. It was only when Sirius got fed up that they decided to switch positions.  

“Can’t wait any longer.” he grunted, “Wanna fuck that arse of yours.” 

Y/N was on all fours, Remus positioned underneath her and Sirius knelt behind her, his cock brushing against the globes of her arse as they got into position. Remus pulled her down to kiss him, his tongue slipping into her mouth. Remus rubbed his cock up and down her folds a few times, coating himself in her wetness before finally plunging inside her. Y/N let out a loud moan as she stretched out around him. He gave her a few moments to adjust before starting to move.  

They had just found their rhythm when Y/N felt Sirius smear lube over her rare entrance. He gently pushed a finger inside of her, stretching her out so that she was ready for him. 

“We’ve done this before, love, yeah? Just like last time.” His voice was much softer now, and he pressed kisses against her shoulders as he slowly started sliding inside of her, “If it hurts too much tell me and I’ll stop, okay?” 

“It’s fine. Feels good.” Y/N managed to get out. 

“You like being filled up by two cocks, don’t you?” Remus smirked, his hands resting on her hips, guiding her to bounce on both of their dicks, “Such an eager little slut.” 

“Filthy girl, aren’t you?” Sirius teased, “One of us just wasn’t enough for you, eh? Had to have us both?” 

Y/N nodded frantically, too lost in the pleasure of it all to form a verbal response. Her teeth dug into Remus’s collarbone as she bit down to stifle the moans that were threatening to tumble from her lips.  

“Don’t hide those pretty noises. We want to hear how dirty you sound, don’t we, Sirius?” 

“Of course. Tell us how much you love being ruined by us.” he grumbled, “Or have we fucked you too dumb to speak?” The two men increased the pace of their thrusts, chuckling as Y/N tried to form coherent sentences to answer them.  

“Feels so good.” Y/N gasped, “L-love being ruined by you both.” 

“Clever girl.” Remus praised her, “But clearly we aren’t fucking you hard enough if you can still talk.”  

Remus and Sirius both looked at each other, seeming to telepathically create some form of plan. Their thrusts became relentless, plunging deep inside her simultaneously, barely giving her chance to breath. Sirius’s hands wandered up to grip her throat again, pulling her back so he could get a better look at her face.  

“I want to be the one that gets to see that pretty face as you cum around us.” His teeth grazed against her neck, nipping at the sensitive skin and causing her to groan. Y/N just nodded frantically in response, her holes clenching around them both. Remus’s hands were still planted on her waist, guiding her up and down on his cock and Sirius slammed into the back on her. Her eyes began to roll back as she climbed the peak, her body growing weak and relying on them to hold her upright.  

“Gonna cum inside of you at the same time, yeah”? Sirius groaned, his thrusts becoming sloppy.  

“Gonna fill up those holes of yours.” Remus continued. 

“Fuck.” Y/N moaned, her eyes squeezing shut as her orgasm came crashing down on her. Her breath quickened and she panted as they both continued to pound into her, chasing their own highs.  

Strangled moans came from both men as they reached their peaks, their thrusts eventually slowing down. Sirius collapsed down on the bed, slipping out of her. The girl laid between them both, all three of them in a panting pile on the bed.  

“Y’know what, I don’t think sharing is so bad after all.” Sirius laughed. 

[erisenyo]

"could you please come and get me?" I'm BEGGING🙏🙏🙏

For this prompt game! (And also this one!) (Andthis one too lol)

(Can be read as a follow-up to this)

“…and, like, everyone goes through phases!”

Hakoda hastily unfolds from his very undignified stretch at the muffled sound of Sokka’s voice, wincing at the protest of his sore back. Bato keeps saying he’s eventually going to value his posterior chain enough to stop taking red eyes no matter how cheap they are, and one day Hakoda is actually going to listen instead of making jokes about posteriors.

“—and sisters, you know? They never let go of anything no matter how old you all get, and they always take things too far—”

Hakoda glances again around the dim lit, tidy shop as if maybe the angle of the sunlight will have changed, vaguely pleased and surprised that Sokka is here so early as the faint jangle of the admittedly-huge keyring filters through the door.

It’s hours past when they usually open, of course, but judging by the timing of Sokka’s late-night-scarfing-down-dinner phone calls, he’s been working plenty past when they usually close.

“—not in a creepy way or anything, obviously. Just a joke. A bad one!”

Not that Hakoda was really worried. And he was right to now really worry! There’s nothing blown up, no scorch marks or tools missing because Sokka really needed a good shearing weapon for his robot-killing robot, no half-deconstructed engines and piling-up repairs because Sokka is sure he’s figured out a way to get more efficiency out of the whole system.

“—and that one is totally new, anyway. I had no idea it was even there! And so, um. High definition.”

Those this Audi sitting in the middle out of the shop, which is very out of place for Wolf Cove to begin with, let alone in Hakoda’s shop…

“And I mean, you know how sisters are!”

Hakoda does have some questions about that.

That Jesk kid better not be involved, or whatever his name was...

“Or—right?” Sokka’s voice is suddenly clear as he finally finds the right key to unlock the office door. “You—maybe? I mean—you—or—”

“Yeah,” a husky, raspy voice cuts in, faintly amused, and Hakoda pauses in surprise as he realizes Sokka isn’t on the phone. “I have a sister.”

Hakoda glances curiously through the office window as Sokka flicks the lights on, bright light illuminating the office and the break room and the car bays one by one, revealing his son—dressed for work, not starving, not injured, good—and the lean, black-on-black clad boy behind him, and Hakoda feels his eyebrow jump up in surprise.

Ah. He recognizes a pretentiously pre-worn designer leather jacket when he sees one. That would be where the car came from, then.

“And,” Sokka hurries on, darting nervously around the office as he wakes up the computer and sets down his coffee and Hakoda’s other eyebrow slides up to join the first. He can recognize Sokka’s cover-his-ass voice anywhere. “It’s not like I would recognize you out of context anyway without, you know. Or with, or—and so, like, it's not like I was being weird or anything, or like, trying to lock you in the basement or something, or—fuck.” Sokka scrubs his hands over his face before pasting on a bright, game smile and marching toward the car bays. “Yeah, I’m just going to stop talki—Dad!”  

“Sokka,” Hakoda greets him, giving the other boy—not a boy, Sokka hates being called a boy, he reminds himself—a curious look. “And…?”

“Oh,” the boy blinks, freezing a little. “Uh—”

“I didn’t realize you were coming back,” Sokka hops in, hurrying over. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, I just wanted to grab a few things from the house, see you and Katara a bit,” Hakoda assures him, reaching out to give Sokka’s shoulder a squeeze and offering a smile to the other boy as he trails Sokka after a moment across the shop floor. “Who’s this?”

“How’s Gran Gran?” Sokka asks as the boy hesitates, mouth half-open.

“She’s doing well, things are coming along,” Hakoda says, cocking his head to get a better look at the boy. He’s definitely familiar—not surprising, with those nearly-gold eyes and scar and the kind of cheekbones that Sokka loves to trip over—but Hakoda can’t quite place… “Are you one of Sokka’s college friends?” Shit, Hakoda should know those. He at least knows it isn’t…what was his name, Tamu? It’s definitely not him…

“Ah, no,” the boy says, shifting on his feet and flicking a quick look to Sokka. “Wh—"

“How long are you back for!” Sokka says over top of him, eyes wide with interest and that’s definitely his cover-his-ass voice again…

“Just a few days,” Hakoda says absently. Is it one of Sokka’s high school band buddies? They used to always be hanging around the basement and crowding into the kitchen. “I haven’t seen around town,” he says slowly, the sense that he knows this kid niggling at the edge of his thoughts.

“…No,” the kid agrees after a beat, equally slow.

“Yeah,” Sokka says quickly, voice coming out high. “He’s not from around here!”  

“This is your car?” Hakoda asks, because the kid might not look much like a trombone players but he does look like a speed demon.

“Uh, yeah,” the kid says, glancing at the sleek red lines where Sokka’s set the Audi out with pride of place dead center in the middle of the shop. “Sorry?”

“Sorry?” Hakoda blinks, momentarily distracted from the nagging familiarity of the kid.

“I broke down,” the kid shrugs, apologetic, and Hakoda can only give him a bemused look.

“It’s what we’re here for,” he says. And they’re certainly going to charge him for it, with a car like that—and Hakoda will be making sure he’s charged. He recognizes that look on Sokka’s face…

“Right!” Sokka says, overly bright. “Car repair!”

“A full-service operation,” the kid murmurs, cutting Sokka a sideways look.

“We strive to be,” Hakoda says proudly, giving Sokka his own curious look as his son chokes a little, blushing. Oh yeah. Hakoda is definitely making sure this kid gets charged.

“Car repairs!” Sokka says loudly, clearly powering through…whatever is going on. “We’ve had a lot of those! Want to—” he glances quickly around. “—the books! Want to see them? Or the—I can get you up to speed?” he suggests half-desperately. “On everything?”

Hakoda makes a vaguely affirming noise, listening with half an ear and mostly watching the kid who is in turn watching Sokka, looking faintly bemused by and more than a little curious about Sokka’s immediate, exhaustive, relieved, highly detailed account of the past month.

Maybe he’s a new teacher in one of Sokka’s art classes? He thought they were all old men by Sokka’s description, but this one seems like an artsy type. Though why he’d be here and not back in Republic City…

The kid gives Sokka another sidelong look through his lashes that really isn’t all that subtle to anyone other than Sokka, and ah, that could be a reason.

And he can tell Sokka likes his friend back from the fidgety, half-nervous, half-hyper way he’s shifting his weight and playing with his bracelets and rings and he better be fucking taking those off before work, Hakoda’s not trying to have anyone lose a damn body part inside an engine. At least the earrings are out…

Hakoda thinks, though, that he really would have heard of the kid if he’s following Sokka cross-country to keep him company. But then, maybe that’s why he has the persistent, nagging sense that he’s met or at least seen this kid befo—

“Oh!” Hakoda suddenly exclaims, snapping his fingers as realization hits. “I know you!”

“You—!” Sokka trips a little as the kid startles, giving Hakoda a half-surprised, half-cagey look. “You should really hear about theorderthatPakkutriedto—”

“You’re the boy from the poster over Sokka’s bed!” Hakoda says, triumphant and Sokka cuts off with a high, strangled noise, the kid opening his mouth and nothing coming out.

“The one where’s he’s all shirtless and oiled up?” Hakoda prompts when Sokka doesn’t say anything, pleased to have placed it. “Remember, you got that fancy photo editing program for it? So you could cut him out of the full shot and enlarge the size? And Bato took you to that special print shop in Whale Harbor to get it done out on the special poster paper?”

The kid slowly transfers his stare from Hakoda to Sokka, who is looking more and more like a deer trying to freeze to avoid the notice of an oncoming car.

“You know, for your eighteenth birthday?” Hakoda reminds him, concern fluttering in his chest when Sokka doesn’t immediately latch onto the topic like he always does. “Because you couldn’t find any magazines big enough to see from that far away?” He definitely isn't misremembering, he knows he isn't...right?

The kid slowly closes his mouth, eyebrow inching up higher and higher.

“And you’d filled up all your wall space, so you needed to move to other surfaces? And Katara said you weren’t allowed to put anything up in the shower?” No, he's definitely right. Hakoda had been quietly and intensely relieved by the shower edict enough to be sure.

“I,” Sokka finally says, mouth working, “I, uh.”

“Didn’t you recognize him?” Hakoda frowns, reaching out to feel Sokka’s forehead.

“Yeah, Sokka,” the kid—shit, Hakoda still doesn’t know his name though—says, pointed, “Didn’t you recognize me?”

“I…need to go now,” Sokka announces, suddenly fumbling in his pockets.

“What?” Hakoda blinks, confusion threading alongside his pleasure at finally placing the face.

“What?” the kid half-laughs, startled.

But Sokka just whips out his phone, already marching away, his face crimson and voice echoing off the high ceilings, “Katara? Yeah, I’m—yeah, I’m still in town. Yes, I know that you're on nights, I—yes, I—look, could you please come and get me?” A pause. “No, I—actually, yes. I need to go die now, please. Not here.”

Hakoda stares after Sokka as he finally shuts the office door behind him, bemused, scratching the back of his head and shifting his attention to the kid who looks like he doesn’t know whether to worry or laugh again.

“Well, I’m Hakoda,” he eventually offers, extending his hand and biting the bullet that it’s okay to not know this one’s name, they probably haven't actually met before, “I’m his father.”

“Zuko,” the kid says after a beat, accepting his handshake—strong grip, callouses, no eye contact but that’s okay considering he’s looking after Sokka. “I’m, uh. The guy from the ceiling?”

Hakoda huffs, half-amused and giving him another quick look—and then his hand a slightly harder squeeze. “Grown up a bit, have you?” A lot less oil, too. And a lot more clothes.

Same cheekbones, though.

“Uh—so has he? Since then?” Zuko hazards, glancing toward the office where Sokka is…screaming into a pillow, by the looks of it.

“One could say that," Hakoda says after a beat, thinking of Sokka’s last trip to Whale Harbor and the poster tube he’d come back with happily cradled in his arms. “But maybe not as much as you’d think.”

[world0fmadness]

I BURN FOR YOU

oscar piastri x black metal vocalist! reader

♡ general dating headcanons for oscar with a black metal vocalist partner!

୨୧ my first f1 headcanons in a little tiny while, i hope they’re okay lol, my birthday is coming up on the 21st and i feel like i’m having a midlife crisis right now so it might not be my best work </3

♡ related smau available here and related hc available here | view my formula 1 masterlist here

reading music recommendations: upon frigid winds by hulder - the oracle by mythic - angel ripper by aura noir

♡ this relationship is literally sunshine x sunshine protector and you are NOT the sunshine…

୨୧ oscar is the sunshine, obviously! and you’re just the taller, more intimidating, partner who evil eyes anyone looking at your sunshine weird

♡ fans make a LOT of memes and jokes due to just how vastly different you guys are, in both style and personality…

୨୧ a lot of these jokes consist of people insisting he must be paying you to be a form of protection or something due to how uneasy some opposing drivers looks when they see you

♡ he doesn’t at all understand how your throat isn’t ripped to shreds and constantly in pain from the vocals you do! he has a serious amount of respect for you because of it, he thinks you’re SO fucking cool

୨୧ after a concert, he’ll always whisk you off to a local convenience store to buy some slushes for soothing your raw throat <3

♡ if your voice ever sounds majorly scratchy and just kind of weird after a show ( which it usually always does ) he really babies you…

“ love… listen to your voice! it sounds like it hurts to speak, christ… what will i do with you? ” ( you always jokingly roll your eyes as he frets, telling him he’s worse than your mother / father )

୨୧ oscar calls you “ magpie ” due to all of the shiny accessories you collect and wear over time!

♡ he absolutely loves coming with you to do metal magazine photoshoots! whenever he can, he accompanies you and the photographer to some woodland or a historic cemetery to take pictures

୨୧ for once, he doesn’t feel like the celebrity… the photographer never has an interest in taking his picture and he loves it! he just gets to admire you from the sidelines, speaking up to tell you a pose looks nice

♡ and speaking of metal magazines, oscar has ALL of the magazine issues you’ve ever featured in, he has some of the ones you’re covering on in little frames

୨୧ somehow he even has the first magazine you were EVER featured in… you don’t know how the hell he got that because it was years before you guys even knew each other existed, it was out of circulation and super hard to find being resold but he simply tells you he has his ways

♡ oscar is one of the few drivers on the grid i can see actually listening to and liking some black metal bands!

୨୧ he didn’t listen to them before you guys got together but since it’s pretty much all you listen to in the house and car, he found himself getting into it and bobbing his head to the music…

♡ you were SO happy when you noticed this, always nodding at him with a small smile as he gave a slightly shy smile back

“ i like this one, this is darkthrone, right? yeah… this one is good ” ( when he started really remembering and recognising bands, you knew he was the one )

୨୧ he thinks you look so good with corpse paint on!

♡ absolutely loves when you try out different designs for it and ask for his opinion, thinks the grumpy cat type one is so damn cute

୨୧ he’s not a huge fan of how your corpse paint is after a concert though, half melted down your face as you press a sloppy kiss on his lips, transferring most of the paint onto his face as he slightly grimaces at the stickiness

“ you were amazing, love! eugh… right, let’s get this washed off then, yeah? ” ( you usually smirk at him before grabbing his face and smushing it against yours, transferring even more paint as he yells )

♡ you did his corpse paint once, going with a pretty simple design for his first time! he kept smiling as you moved the brush, he was just so happy you were including him in something so special

୨୧ when it was done and he looked in the mirror, he was so awestruck… he swore on everything that is holy ( or unholy, really ) that it’s the coolest he’s ever looked and felt in his entire life <3 and you just think he looks really hot… his corpse paint doesn’t last long as you really can’t hold back the urge to make out with him which leads to his paint smudging all over your face

♡ y’know how someone in a relationship will often “ steal ” their partners clothes?

୨୧ yeah, oscar does this with you… he’s stolen SO many of your band t-shirts :( he just thinks the designs are so good and they smell like you which is a huge plus! you never get mad when he walks by you wearing one though, they suit him

♡ he can’t get enough of watching you get ready for a concert too!

୨୧ he’ll sit on the small couch in your dressing room, eyes shining with admiration and a small smile on his face as he gazes at you, watching you pull on your gauntlets and bullet belt

♡ speaking of gauntlets and bullet belts, he thinks black metal fashion in general is insanely fucking sweet

୨୧ you’re telling him you damn near dress up as a knight? with leather? a sword on your hip? and chain mail? literally the most awesome thing ever to him

“ more leather? you sure, love? it’s quite humid tonight! maybe go for your jeans instead… ” ( you know he’s right but leather is just so much more brutal than jeans )

♡ it fulfils an almost childlike wonder inside of him, you remind him of a fantasy character he would see in a video game and aspire to be like when he was a kid

୨୧ oscar does not like when he hears people stereotype metalheads as greasy, dirty goat fuckers because he knows more than anyone you and your friends are actually super hygienic when it comes to your hair, your hair is always so glossy and soft! he’s always been jealous of yours and your friends hair…

♡ of course you do stuff with pigs blood and stuff but you don’t slaughter the animal yourself! you just get it from a butcher, he hates when people try to paint you and your friends to be cruel and horrible

୨୧ some other drivers on the grid find you to be slightly intimidating… even when you’re not in your full stage outfit you’re usually still pretty dressed up in leather, combat boots, small gauntlets and at least one bullet belt… not to mention you very rarely have a smile on your face!

♡ though when oscar assures them you’re really a super nice person, they start to approach you more!

୨୧ i think lewis would be the most talkative with you, i can just see him having a massive amount of interest and respect for the metal scene <3 he likes asking about your lyric writing process and such, he finds your presence to be calming!

♡ oscar is a VERY good listener, he absolutely loves listening to you talk about the history of black metal and read new lyrics to him

୨୧ y’know books like lords of chaos, the swedish metal story and the death archives? yeah he takes them from your collection to read in his drivers room! his jaw gaping open and numbing “ jesus christ ” under his breath at some of the things written in said books

♡ but he seriously loves to come home to you and talk about what he read! asking you if you’ve ever met some of the people mentioned and what you think of them

୨୧ you showed him varg vikernes’ twitter one time and now it’s kind of routine for you guys to browse it and laugh at it every couple of days… seriously varg, take your meds and put the phone down

♡ when you guys first started dating, you got him to watch until the ligh takes us and oh my god did that documentary change this man’s life

୨୧ he was SO interested in it and wanted to have a in depth conversation about it with you when the credits rolled, he is a chatter box when he finds something interesting!

♡ he recommends the documentary to literally everyone he knows now, he thought it was just amazing <3 he kind of has a major man crush on fenriz now, woah! who said that? not me…

[candycandy00]

The Doll House - A Gojo x Reader Fanfic Part 3

You sell yourself to the Doll House to pay your mom’s medical expenses, only to discover your trainer is the guy who bullied you relentlessly in high school: Gojo Satoru.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Read Geto’s Part Here!

Read Toji’s Part Here!

Read Nanami’s Part Here!

Read Sukuna’s Part Here!

Read Choso’s Part Here!

Note: Please remember that these stories don’t take place at the same time, or even one after the other! Consider each one its own timeline. So if you see Geto and Toji with other dolls, don’t be alarmed lol. I had to do it this way because if I don’t, by the time I get to the last trainer, there won’t be any other trainers left to interact with!

AU! Each trainer will get their own story! This is Gojo’s. If you’d like to be tagged in future parts, let me know! You must be an adult to be tagged! Any feedback whatsoever is adored!

Smut. 18+. Fem Reader. Chubby Reader. Dubcon. Pet Play. Bullying. Collars/Leashes. Overstimulation. Gags. Vibrators. Vaginal sex. Bondage. Oral sex. Gojo being an asshole.

You wake up lying on the floor of Gojo’s room, your upper half cradled in Gojo’s arms. His face looks frantic, scared, as he looks down at you. He’s saying your name. Not Chubby Bunny, but your actual name. You’ve never heard him say it before. 

“What happened?” he asks you, his voice coming out at a higher pitch than normal. 

“I’m anemic. I faint sometimes. I’m fine.”

You start to get up, but he’s clutching you too firmly. You wiggle a bit to try to shake him off. “Let go so I can get up.”

His grip gets even firmer. “No, I’ll carry you to the bed.”

“I said I’m fine! You can’t carry me, I’m too heavy!”

He flashes a smile. “Who do you think you’re talking to? You’re not too heavy for me.”

With that, he slides one hand under your thighs and stands up, lifting you into the air as he does. You panic and grab onto his neck, afraid of falling. You haven’t been picked up like this since you were a child. How strong is he?!

He laughs breezily as he walks you over to his bed and lays you down. “There, see? Not heavy at all.”

You don’t know if he’s joking or not, so you don’t say anything. 

He stands next to the bed and looks down at you, his face suddenly turning serious. “Why didn’t you tell me you’re anemic? It’s not in your file.”

You look away from him. “It’s not a big deal. It’s not like I faint all the time, just every now and then.”

“It is a big deal! I’m your trainer, I’m responsible for you! What if I hadn’t been close enough to catch you? You could’ve been hurt!”

You hear his voice but you’re avoiding seeing his face. This weird concern is making you uncomfortable. 

He sighs and says, “What do you normally do when this happens? Do you need to see a doctor?”

You shake your head. “No, I just rest a little while and I’m fine.” You start to scoot to the edge of the bed to stand up, but his hand on your shoulder stops you. 

“What are you doing?”

You finally look at him. “I’m going to my bed so I can go to sleep.”

He gently pushes you back down. “Oh no, you’re sleeping here tonight. No arguments, this is an order from your trainer!” He pulls the covers over you and tucks you in. That’s when you notice the collar is gone. He must have taken it off when you fainted. 

“Where are you gonna sleep?” you ask, slightly nervous. The two of you have never slept beside each other yet. 

He smiles. “I’ll take the pet bed.”

He’s way too tall to fit in the pet bed, but the idea of it amuses you. “Okay,” you say. “I should be fine in the morning.”

“Either way, we’re taking tomorrow off,” he tells you. “No training sessions. We’ll hang around in our pajamas and watch movies.”

“Really?” 

“Yeah! It’ll be fun. I’ll make some popcorn.”

That… actually sounds good. But you can’t help being suspicious. “Why are you being nice to me?” 

He gives you that strange look again, one you’ve seen occasionally. Then his expression turns warm and he rubs the back of his head, slightly messing up his hair. “Why? I thought it would be obvious by now. It’s because I lo-“

His cell phone rings loudly, cutting off his words. He reaches into his pocket and pulls it out. “Oh, it’s Shoko calling me back,” he says, then answers with a sharp, “Where were you?!”

You listen to Gojo’s side of the conversation. 

“I don’t care if you were with a patient! My doll fainted and scared the shit out of me!”

“…. Please don’t hang up I’m sorry I yelled!”

“Yeah. How did you know it was her? Ugh, Suguru can’t keep his mouth shut.”

“… You sound just like him. Look, can we talk about this later? I need your advice as a doctor right now.”

“She said she’s anemic. … I don’t know, hold on.” He looks over at you and says, “Do you take any medication for it?”

“No,” you reply, “It’s never been that much of an issue.”

He puts the phone back to his ear. “No meds. She says it’s just an occasional thing. … Okay, and what foods have that? Never mind, I’ll Google it. Thanks, Shoko!”

There’s another pause, a long one. Then Gojo says, “Stop worrying. I’ll take really good care of her. … I’m not hurting her. You know me better than that.”

He puts the phone back in his pocket and returns to your bedside. “Get some sleep. I’ll be up for a while, so if you need anything, just tell me.”

Feeling mildly creeped out by Gojo’s consideration, you fall asleep in his bed. The next morning he wakes you up with a tray of food in his hands. You sit up in bed and he sits the tray in front of you.  There are breakfast meats and eggs, dried fruits, and even a dark chocolate bar. 

“Shoko said you need iron. I wasn’t sure what you like, so I got a bunch of stuff.”

He plops down beside you as you begin to eat, and tears open a sticky packaged pastry before taking a big bite. He notices you watching him and holds the pastry out. “Want a bite? I don’t know if it has any iron in it though.”

A little flustered by this bizarrely nice Gojo, you return your attention to your tray and say, “No thanks.”

Gojo chats a bit as he eats, mostly talking about Geto and Nanami, funny stories about dolls they’ve trained, strange requests buyers have made, and other interesting things about the Doll House. You mostly stay silent as you eat, and when you’re finished, Gojo takes your tray away. 

Afterwards, he turns on the television and gets back onto the bed while holding the remote. It’s the first time the tv has been on since you’ve been here. 

“Let’s watch a movie,” he says. “What kind do you like?”

“Uh, horror, I guess.”

His face lights up. “I like horror too!”

Gojo acts like an excited little boy as he starts talking about some of his favorites, asking if you’ve seen them. Then he scrolls through the horror category on a streaming service until you both agree on a movie to watch. 

The day passes like this, lying in his bed, watching various movies, eating popcorn occasionally between the iron-rich meals he brings you. He never touches you, at least not in a sexual way, and he keeps asking how you’re feeling. You can’t understand why he’s doing this. Is he afraid there will be legal issues if you become ill while in his care? It’s not like he caused you to pass out, and he didn’t even know you were anemic. 

It almost feels like the two of you are friends, or even… a couple. 

It dawns on you that when you were in love with Gojo in high school, this was what you most often fantasized about: the two of you hanging out and enjoying each other’s company. 

Now, your heart is so confused. You can’t deny that your feelings for him have been reawakened. You’re right back to having a major crush on the hottest, most unattainable guy around. What makes it worse this time is that you have a physical relationship with him, which makes it so much harder to resist getting emotionally attached to him. Everything he does with you is so intimate, especially the way he makes you look him in the eyes during it all. 

Your body responds to him. You never thought you were a masochist, and you don’t enjoy actual physical pain, but you find yourself getting turned on by the degrading aspects. It makes you feel sick and incredibly horny at the same time. 

It was the most pathetic thing in the whole world, getting off on being fucked and degraded by your bully. 

That’s why you can’t wait for the training to be over, so you can get away from him, away from this emotional torment. Once you don’t have to see him anymore, feel his touch anymore, you can put him (and your feelings for him) back in the past where they belong. And maybe your heart can calm down. 

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

The training is over halfway over, and Gojo still hasn’t told Chubby Bunny how he feels about her. He wants to, but he’s started to feel a little nervous. He’s never confessed his feelings to someone before, not like this. Suguru and Shoko have repeatedly told him that Chubby Bunny probably still sees him as the bully who harassed her in school. They’ve said it so many times that he’s starting to worry about it. 

But how could she? Hasn’t he made his feelings obvious by the way he passionately makes love to her? The way he worships her body? 

He knew from the first night that he wanted to keep her, from the moment she admitted that she’d had feelings for him in high school. If she had feelings then, she would definitely have them now, with him making her cum several times a day. Hell, she begs for his cock all the time! 

The day they spent together, after she fainted, was perhaps even more precious to him than the days he spent inside her. He was surprised by how much they had in common, how much he enjoyed just talking to her. He wants to take care of her, to hold her close, to protect her. 

But he also wants to cum, and make her cum. Fortunately, they both seem to get off on the same things. 

Right now, she’s tied to the bed, no clothing aside from the stockings he loves so much. Her limbs are each tied with rope to a different corner of the bed, her legs spread eagle. He’s attaching a round ball gag to her mouth, fastening the strap around the back of her head as she looks up him with those lovely eyes. 

The ball gag is full of small holes, so that air and other things can pass through. It holds her mouth open, but presses against her tongue so that she can make sounds, but not speak. After it’s secured, Gojo leans forward and sloppily licks the ball gag, letting his saliva drizzle through the holes and into her waiting mouth. 

Then he pulls out a pair of new toys he bought just for her: tiny twin vibrators, each one pink and oval shaped, around the size of the tip of her pinky finger. She looks at them curiously, clearly not knowing what they are. Such a cute, innocent little thing. 

“You’re going to love these, Bunny. I bet you’ve never tried vibrators before, have you? Since your clit is so sensitive and all.”

Her eyes widen, a look of alarm passing over them. Gojo smiles at her and uses the wireless remote to turn the vibrators on, holding them up she can watch them pulse and tremor. 

“Now hold still,” he says, turning them off for the moment. “I’m gonna tape these to your clit, and we’ll see what level you can stand. It goes up to ten!”

She squirms, her limbs pulling at the ropes. Gojo rubs her head affectionately and then moves down between her legs. He spreads the folds of her already wet pussy and gives her clit a few strokes with his finger, enjoying the way she jerks. Then he puts one of the vibrators on each side of her clit, and uses a special clear tape to secure them. The very tip of her clit is sticking out cutely between the vibrators, trembling before he even turns them on. 

He stands beside the bed and watches Bunny’s face as he sets the power to level one and pushes the button. 

Her body shakes, her arms fighting the restraints. She’s making sounds through the gag that make Gojo instantly hard. He holds up the remote so that she can see him turn the power to level two. 

She screams around the gag, her back arching up off the bed as she almost immediately cums. 

“Wow, that quick, huh?” he says, opening his pants and reaching in to pull his raging erection free. As he turns the power level to three, while she’s still reeling from her orgasm, he begins jacking off right beside her. Watching her writhe on the bed as she’s overstimulated is way too hot to ignore. 

He tries to time his orgasm to match her own as the vibrators, now set to level four, drive her to climax again. He’s close, but she cums first, tears pouring down her face. When he knows he’s going to cum, he moves close to her face and shoots his load onto the ball gag, watching it ooze into the holes and drip down her chin. 

He gently rubs her head again. “Do you like that, Chubby Bunny? Having my cum in your mouth?”

She nods, making a noise that sounds like, “uh huh”. He can see her tongue through the holes, lapping at the gag, trying to get every drop. 

Fuck, he’s almost hard again already. 

He turns the vibrators up to five and watches her jerk, her eyes huge as she screams. 

“Are you about to hit your limit? Can your poor little clit handle any more?” he asks, punctuating his words by reaching down and rubbing the tip of her clit with his fingers.  

She emits a strangled cry, trying to rip her arms free as she cums yet again. Her eyes flutter, and it looks similar enough to the safe signal for him to pause and pull the ball gag off, ropes of cum stretching from her mouth. 

“Are you feeling sick?” he asks, unable to hide the worry in his voice. 

“No,” she says, her voice strained. 

“Did you use the signal?”

“N-no, but I can’t handle it… it’s too much! I can’t cum anymore! Gojo, please-“ 

He shoves the sticky, cum soaked ball gag back into her mouth and fastens it again. “If you didn’t use the signal, we’ll keep going.”

She lets out a sobbing whine as he holds up the remote. 

“Ready for level six?”

She’s shaking her head back and forth frantically, her tear filled eyes sparkling in such a pretty way. He thinks he might have just fallen even deeper in love with her. 

He turns it up, and her whole body lifts off the bed. His original plan had been to leave her like this for at least an hour, but he’s afraid she’ll faint again, or start feeling weak and make the safe signal, only for him to miss it or not notice. He won’t take chances with her health or safety. Now that she’s back in his life, he won’t risk losing her. 

He moves down again, bending over her body to get his face close to her throbbing pussy. Then he oh so slowly runs his tongue over the tip of her clit sticking out between the two vibrators, leaving a trail of his drool. She’s breathing so hard, her full, round tits heaving, that he watches her eyes for a minute to make sure she’s okay. Five rapid blinks signal she needs to stop, but she only blinks once. 

His cock is twitching as he lightly strokes it, but he can’t bear to just use his hand again. Not when there’s a dripping wet pussy right in front of him, warm and soft and quivering. 

So he climbs onto the bed, lifts her hips slightly so that he can go in at the best angle to hit the deepest parts of her, and plunges his dick inside her. 

Fuck, she feels amazing. Every fucking time. It’s like her pussy was literally molded to stimulate his cock in precisely the best way. He fucks into her a little too roughly before remembering to be careful. He really doesn’t want to hurt her, but it’s hard to hold back when he’s feeling so good. 

He reaches both hands down and squeezes her tits. They’re so squishy and plush! 

“Good Bunny,” he says, looking her in the eyes. He loves locking eyes with her while fucking her, watching every little emotion that dances through them. “For such an inexperienced little pussy, you take my giant cock so well.”

He’s getting close, his dick pulsing inside her. But he wants to get the timing right this time. He pulls the remote out of his pocket and holds it up. She looks at it as if it’s a bomb. 

“Let’s cum together, okay Bunny? For the grand finale, I’m turning it up to ten!”

She’s shaking her head again, looking up at him pleadingly, trying to form words but only garbled cries escaping the gooey gag. 

He turns it up to the highest setting. She lets out a piercing scream, her sore pussy clenching around him like a vice. 

“I really wanna fill this tight pussy, but you’ve been such a good Bunny for me! I think you deserve a treat!”

Seconds before she cums yet again, sobbing and shaking, he pulls out, tears off the gag, and sticks the tip of his cock into her messy mouth. At the same moment her orgasm hits her, he pumps her mouth full of his hot, thick cum. 

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

It almost feels like you’re drowning. Gojo filled your mouth with so much cum, even filling your throat, just as you were gasping and screaming from the most intense orgasm you’ve ever had. You gulp it down as fast as you can, trying to catch your breath, regretting that you barely had time to savor the sweet taste and creamy texture of it. 

He turns the vibrators off, only after watching you convulse and spasm through your climax. After he removes them, he unties your hands and feet, then pulls you into a sitting position. 

“Are you okay?” he asks. 

He keeps asking that, ever since you fainted. You’ve told him over and over that you’re fine. You’ve even promised to let him know if you start to feel weak or lightheaded, no matter what the two of you are doing at the time. 

“I’m okay,” you say flatly, covering your nakedness with your arms. Somehow it feels way more awkward to be nude in front of him when he’s being nice to you. 

“Need any help getting to the bathroom?”

You slowly stand up, then wince. He fucked you a little harder than usual. It didn’t hurt too much at the time but it left you sore. Not so sore that you can’t walk on your own, so you shake your head and go take a shower. 

The days pass, and when there’s only a week left, you ask Gojo if there are any buyers interested in you. 

“Oh, you’ve already been spoken for,” he says, surprising you. 

“Really? But I thought I was supposed to meet him a few times.”

Gojo shrugs. “It doesn’t always happen that way. Depends on the buyer.”

You feel a strange sense of relief. You’ve actually been worried that no one would want you. You don’t even know what happens in that case. The idea of being stuck with Gojo longer than necessary terrifies you. Your heart can’t take much more of this. 

Then, on your last night here, Gojo approaches you as you’re getting ready for bed. 

“I was going to wait until tomorrow and surprise you, but I can’t hold off any longer,” he says. 

You look up at him curiously. Is he going to give you some sort of parting gift? “What is it?” you ask. 

His face is strangely serious. “There’s no buyer coming to take you tomorrow.”

You blink. “What?” 

“There’s no buyer,” he repeats, and your only thought is, “Of course no one wants me.”

“But I wasn’t lying when I said you’re spoken for,” he goes on. “I’m keeping you. Tomorrow your contract will transfer to me.”

You stare at him, waiting for him to laugh and tell you he’s joking. He doesn’t. 

“Why… would you do that?”

He gives you that look again, that one you can’t quite read, then says, “Why? Because I love you, that’s why. Because I want us to be together.”

The words slowly seep into your brain, and you’re reminded of those cheesy teen movies where the mean popular boy would ask the ugly girl to the prom, just to get her hopes up, and then laugh as he crushes them. 

You can’t take this anymore, these cruel jokes, these petty attempts to trick you. 

“Stop it!” you suddenly yell. “Just stop it, please! Stop hurting me!” 

Gojo’s face freezes, then a look of utter confusion spreads across it. 

You don’t care. You’re going to tell him what you think, what you feel, and damn him, he’s going to listen! 

Tag List:

@suguguro @kaedear @onyxsphynx @poopoobuttsy @butterskyy @collectionofdolls @akaotv @witchbybirth @bloofinntoona @wasurenagusaa @tclbts @tojirin @lucyrocks86 @badbyeyoongi @97britt @aydene @lzaj19 @lyn-lotte @missthatgirl @peachedtv @ladytamayolover @nanam1nx @deegausserr @voids-universe @hinata7346 @maflorex @issracollen @xkittiecatx @ryumurin @emrys3456 @mysecretesc8pe @typicalloser3 @gabriiiiiiii

[dilfhos]

STRAY

#!WHO : SHIGARAKI TOMURA

#!CC: puppygirl!reader, thoughts of depravity, readers kinda naive, no thots just dick, there’s no expressive consent but reader’s kinda dumb and needy, use of “doggy” and “pup”. reader does actually bark (not them arf, yips! like a husky, heady bark.) MDNI.

+bringing back this banger from my old blog. you can also read it on my ao3. im nervous lol idk how its gonna hold up 2 years later, diff audience. i can’t remember the ask specifically but it was something like Shigaraki finding a stray and he ends up using her. omg and i want to tag @bakatenshii idk if you remember my old alias but i do remembered you loved this fic!

+NETWORK(S): @angelshub @bitchcraftinc (i keep forgetting to do this mL, excuse the random @/lovelies)

“Good girl,” Shigaraki whispers and he really means it, at least for now. It makes him think having a pet like you may not be all that bad…

Shigaraki still wonders how he ever let this be, an animal-woman hybrid living in his already cramped apartment. Doesn’t know why he hadn’t bothered to kick you out either. But it could be anybody’s guess as to why you still remain.

It all started when he got into an argument with his landlord, one that required him the self control to back off and avoid killing the bastard. It was rainy but Shigaraki paid no mind to the stinging raindrops that pelted his skin and soaked his clothes. It was dark out, but not too dark as to not notice you cowering against the side of his building upon his return. Your eyes were closed as you trembled in the cold rain.

Shigaraki didn’t know why he found himself moving closer to get a better look at you but when your eyes shot open, he found himself almost curious. He’d never seen anything like you before. Especially when your ears, you very doglike ears twitched forward, erect and alert. But you didn’t seem all that afraid. You were dressed in soaked shirt that was too big for you as it sagged off your body.

He crouched down and you inched toward him reluctantly and as you moved from your previous position, his eyes sought out the tail that had been tucked in between your legs.

“Hey, there you are,” Someone cooed from behind him. Shigaraki turned to eye the man. There was nothing all that remarkable about him; he wore all black, his hood over his head save for a few dark locks that stuck to his brows. Shigaraki wasn’t the least bit intimidated. But that couldn’t be said for you as you frantically dove into his arms, letting out a frightened whimper. Your ears flattened against your head as your hands curled into Shigaraki’s coat.

He wanted to back you off and leave from the situation as it had nothing to do with him and was fixing to do so when he looked down. Your pupils were blown and eyes glossy, pleading.

He sighed before standing, pulling you up with him to stand on trembling feet.

“She yours?” Shigaraki mumbled. You moved behind him, your hands tightening on his clothes.

“Heh, yeah, ran right out through the door. Isn’t that right baby?” You growled all while cowering behind Shigaraki’s form.

“No collar,” Shigaraki noted.

“Been meaning to get her one. C’mon baby, why don’t you leave the nice man alone and come back home with me?” He cooed.

The utter confidence and trust you had in Shigaraki at this moment was appalling. He barely covered the man in terms of height and upon first glance, he looked rather average. Definitely not the type to win in a fist fight. So why were you so dependent on him to save you?

Shigaraki didn’t have time to really think too much about it because the man advanced, silver glinting under the streetlamp. You yelped and cowered back against the wall again, covering your eyes.

You heard a grunt followed by a pained cry as that then died into the sound of pelting rain. When you lowered your shaky hands, Shigaraki was standing over a pile of what looked to be ash, the knife a few feet away.

Ever since that night, he couldn’t seem to shake you.

You’re loyal and to him, it’s annoying. Showing up at his doorsteps turns into you sleeping on his ratty couch. His chasing you away turns into grumbles of tolerance. The typical sneer he wears when you come sniffing around dissolved in hidden blushes and twitched lips as your distrustful cowering eventually turn into you becoming disturbingly comfortable around him.

After another day of pressing his key into the lock does he already see you on the other side of the door, tail whipping back and forth in excitement as you await his return. Except he isn’t really in the mood. Today was particularly bad and he wanted nothing more than to possibly let off steam, maybe watch something, blow his load and sleep.

“Stupid mutt, stop doing that!” He growls when his back immediately slams against the door, eyes narrowed in the way you smile up at him.

“Welcome home sir.” You beamed.

Another thing you picked up was calling him ‘sir’. Despite the many times he tells you not to. He wasn’t your last owner, and honestly, he’d like it if you didn’t call him anything. But every one of his complaints go through one ear and out the other with you having half the intelligence of an actual dog.

He recoils when he feels your tongue graze his neck. Groans when it doesn’t just end there. You’re licking his chin, his neck, and when your tongue laps over his lips, he’s trying to buck you off. But you’re so persistent as you press further against him, your front grinding up against his groin unknowingly.

Shigaraki bites back a moan at your ignorance, his cock already hardening from your aimless shifting.

You couldn’t feel the bulge pushing against your thigh? The soft grunts he’d release when you’d lap at the rough skin of his neck? You can’t be that stupid or then maybe you are.

But would it be that bad if you are? Because then he wouldn’t feel guilty when he dreams of stuffing you full with his cock. You practically ask for it every chance you get with him. The sleeping in his bed, your excessive show of affection, the sickening devotion in your eyes.

And then, isn’t it what he deserved? He did save you that night. Do you even remember how easy it could have been for him to just walk away? To give you up to that creep? Sure it only happened a few weeks ago but he thinks of that night as if it was only the last. How when he brought you home and went to retrieve a towel to dry you up, you were on your hands and knees practically presenting yourself to him as you slumped in exhaustion. As if giving him the go ahead to do what he wanted to and by gods, it took everything with him not to.

He wasn’t a hero, not by a long shot. And maybe you didn’t have the mental capacity to accept that he was actually a villain because in your eyes, he was your savior.

But as said, today was a particularly bad day and right now he felt anything but.

So just this once he’ll give in. Whether you wanted it or not didn’t matter to him at this point, already past contemplation. After all you’re his pet now, his property and if he can’t do this then what good are you really?

You release your little whimpers and when you look up, your eyes are wide, so full of confusion when he suddenly has you on your hands and knees pressing into you from behind on the floor. Your owner wears a new look, his eyes so feral, teeth gritted. And you know that look; it was the look of your last owner among all the other men that tried to take you on the streets. Hunger. Greed. Desperation.

And you should be wary, should cower away from the carnality in his eyes because you know better than anyone that when it’s present one thing is desired. Yet, you hold your ground. You don’t struggle, in fact he could just make out the way your hips shimmy back a little bit and the whine that surfaces from your throat.

You just can’t help it, the air around you has changed. A thick cloud of hot lust is weighing down around you and so much so, you can’t help but to submit. Besides you trust him one for reasons you can’t figure out.

Shigaraki refuses to meet your eyes, instead he quickly fumbles with his belt and takes out his hard cock. A blush spreads across his face when he eyes the steady slick trailing down your thighs and upon closer inspection he can see how swollen you were and that’s what does him in.

It’s what has him surging forward, bottoming out completely inside of you. Your ears flatten against your head as you let out the neediest sounding moan, one that has a shiver licking down his spine.

“Shit. Shit,” He should feel ashamed, taking advantage of you like this. But he clings on the fact that he’s a villain, that’s his justification. A villian with his pet, that’s all this is.

It’s fueling his newfound vigor as he speeds up, the heat of your tight cunny sucking him in with every cant of his hips.

His fingers dig into the plush of your hips as his own thrust forward, his cock forcing past your tight ring of muscle. You look back again, your eyes glossy with tears, long tongue hanging out as you whine and pant. He was so thick, so heavy within your tight, hot walls. Your nails scrape helplessly against the dingy carpet as he rocks into you with so much drive.

In the midst of your panting and whining surfaces his voice, so grating and filthy as he tumbles every degrading name in the book. It should worry him and yet it has his stomach knotting up, his thighs and glutes tightening as he holds on to your hips for dear life. And in the midst of that is the loud, wet, shlicks of each sink into you.

“My needy little bitch. Taking my cock like a good doggy,” He grits, eyeing the recoil of your ass against his hips.

His hand seeks out the base of your tail as he uses it as leverage to pull you back onto his cock. And it hurts, it has the tears spilling over and yet, your cunt only tightens around him some more.

“F-Feels good sir!” You cry out at about the same time as he mumbles,

“Good doggy, such a good pup,” And at his praise, your ears bend forward, and your tail begins to switch slowly in his gasp. You feel a knot in your tummy, desperately winding down to what you’re chasing. It has you rocking back against him needy to have, so so needy. And the way your resolve has melted away, it makes all his thoughts of guilt completely vanish, leaving him with an unbearable need to fill you up.

He’s quickly pulling out and flipping you onto your back, nails digging into the soft flesh of your thighs as he spreads you wide.

You were so wet, inhumanly so as it’s gushing down onto the carpet and the sight alone has him nearly cumming right then and there but he holds it. At least until he’s thrusting into you again, your head thrown back as you let out a broken whine. Your tits bounce with all the force he’s using as he’s putting everything into these last moments. His one track kind only focuses in the tuft of fur above your cunny, at the way your puffy lips pull part each time he's pushing forward and the slick coating his cock.

You’re yelping with each kiss he delivers to your cervix, hands desperate to hold onto to your new owner. You reach out and he grasps your wrists, using you to thrust impossibly deeper into you. Static fills his mind as his eyes roll back, his hips slamming against yours, balls smacking your ass each time.

“Fuck, fuck cumming!”

“Sir! Sir please-” You cut your own self off with a heady bark, one that startles him. It’s also what has him groaning as he twitches, his seed spilling so suddenly into you. Your pussy milks him as you gush around his dick and it has him falling over, elbows pressed into the carpet on either side of your head. Your legs wrap around his waist as your hips shimmy up against him, whining as you push past your own limits, twitching every so slightly at the overstimulation and sealing this moment of what would be the best one in your simple little head.

“Good girl,” Shigaraki whispers and he really means it, at least for now. It makes him think having a pet like you may not be all that bad.

He also thinks he should probably name you.

dilfos. do not plagiarize any parts of my content— current or archival. all rights reserved.

[agaypanic]

smutty blurbs w eric forman?? 😱

Eric Forman Smutty Headcanons

Masterlist

Request Something!

A/N: couldn’t really think of blurbs so i decided to do some headcanons, also i dont have too much in depth knowledge about star wars. Eric might be a bit ooc but idc lol

C/W: smutty content (duh), roleplay, mentions of bondage, i feel like thats it

***

Loves roleplaying lmao

Remember that episode where Donna dressed up as Leia for him and he had the stormtrooper helmet??

Yeah yall do that

Sometimes, it’s hard to stay serious because he’s having too much fun with it

“Tell me what you know about the Rebel Alliance’s plans, prisoner.” You could tell that Eric was lowering his voice underneath the bulky Stormtrooper helmet. You had to keep yourself from giggling so you didn’t break the illusion of being a Stormtrooper’s prisoner.

“I’ll never tell you.” You responded defiantly, glaring at your boyfriend’s hidden face. 

Eric took a step closer, bringing a hand out from behind his back to reveal a Stormtrooper gun, which you remember getting him for his most recent birthday.

“Be obedient, and you might be rewarded.” Eric pointed the fake gun towards you, his bulky white helmet tilting to the side slightly. “Resist, and you’ll regret it.”

“Don’t point that blaster at me.” You backed up as much as possible, trying to appear scared, but it wasn’t long before your back hit Eric’s headboard.

“Actually,” Eric said, lifting his helmet off his head and looking at the gun, “It’s an E-Eleven Blaster Rifle, Y/n. We’ve been through this.”

“Oh, so sorry.” You rolled your eyes before laughing at Eric’s seriousness. Pushing off the headboard, you crawled over to the end of the bed and kneeled on the mattress in front of Eric. His eyes followed your body, his own stiffening at your seductive stare. “Is that another blaster in your pocket, Mr. Trooper? Or are you just happy to see me?”

“Storm-trooper,” he corrected, his voice quiet as he slowly let the helmet slip back down. You sighed but quickly brushed it off.

“Mr. Stormtrooper.”

Good at foreplay

His nickname’s “foreplay” for a reason lmao

Well, it’s supposed to be an embarrassing nickname

But once he starts dating you, he becomes a bit proud of the nickname

“Eric.” You whined, squirming around on the bed. “Please, do something!”

“Shush.” Eric’s hands lightly trailed up and down your sides underneath your shirt, the contact making you shiver. “Be good, Y/n.” He lifted your shirt over your head, and you helped pull it off, throwing it somewhere in Eric’s room. 

Soon, you were almost naked, your underwear being the only thing covering you. Yet Eric completely avoided the place that ached for him most, no matter how much you begged.

“You’re such a tease.” You pouted.

“Oh, it’ll be worth it, baby,” Eric smirked as he lowered himself to the end of the bed, pushing your legs apart. “Just you wait.”

Back to roleplay real quick

Makes a lot of references to movies or comics

Either during sex or the reference leads to sex

Days where you and Eric had the house to yourselves were rare. With Red being retired, Hyde living in the basement, and the Forman’s house being the hangout spot for your friend group, it was hard to find alone time unless you wanted to be at your house or go somewhere in Eric’s car.

But on the rare days when no one was home, the two of you took full advantage of it.

“Spider-Man’s so cool,” Eric mumbled as he read through a comic book, holding it with one hand so his other arm could be wrapped around your shoulders while you watched TV.

Taking full advantage usually meant sitting in the living room instead of hiding in Eric’s room or the basement.

“I wanna be one of Charlie’s Angels so bad.” You responded as you watched Jill Munroe, Kelly Garrett, and Sabrina Duncan kick some ass. Eric looked up at the screen and smirked before looking at you.

“I’d let you interrogate me in a bikini.” You jokingly slapped his chest, making your boyfriend laugh before returning to his comic. “God, having web shooters would be so awesome. Swinging from building to building, fighting crime.”

“Yeah, and you can tie people up.” 

It was an offhand remark, as you were only half listening to Eric while watching TV. But then you felt Eric’s intense gaze on you, and when you made eye contact, you realized how he took what you said. His eyebrows raised suggestively, and soon, you were turning off the television, throwing the comic book onto the couch, and racing up to Eric’s room.

[typicalopposite]

Tommy stumbles upon Buck's journal. They read it together 🙂

Omg! OMG!! I love this so much! So much I wrote it three different times before I figured out the way I actually wanted it to go! LOL! Hope you like the final cut! (she got a little long!)

<3<3<3<3<3

Buck is busy making dinner. He has his brand new apron on; a housewarming gift from Bobby. Although it’s not technically a housewarming gift, since Tommy has already lived in the house for almost a decade… Either way, he loves it, and he is officially breaking it in. 

“Baby,” Tommy calls from their room. Their room… Buck can’t help the smile that creeps across his face at that. “What’s this?”

He looks up from seasoning some veggies as Tommy walks in, a notebook in his hand. His notebook. Buck nearly yelps: “Oh— uh— uhm— wha— wh- where… did you find that?” 

“It was sticking out from under the mattress,” Tommy says. “I didn’t know you kept a journal.” 

“Oh, well… it’s not— it’s just—” Tommy finally lifts his eyes from the cover (that may or may not be covered in little doodles and a couple dozen fancily penned versions of their names together) to look at Buck. Buck feels his face getting hot; he sighs. “Uh yeah—I used to write a lot… Back when I first started seeing my therapist, she suggested it. Said it might help to get all the thoughts I tend to keep bottled up… out.” He lets out a nervous laugh, switching the spice shaker he’s holding from one hand to the other, and back. 

Tommy finally hands the notebook to him. “Is this one recent?” 

“It is,” Buck admits. “I— uh— I actually picked it up again when—” His voice falters, his nerves kick in. He knows he shouldn’t be nervous; Tommy would never judge him for anything, especially not something he uses as a coping mechanism. “When I met you…” he finally says. He can feel the blush all the way in his ears. Tommy smiles that soft understanding smile. “You— uh— you wanna read some of it?” 

“Only if you don’t mind,” Tommy says, but his eyes light up excitedly. 

Buck’s heart is racing as he quickly finishes the meal prep, shoves it into the oven, and sets a timer. “Okay…” He wipes off his hands and picks up the notebook. Buck’s Journal 2024-2025 is written on the front cover in the bottom corner. Tommy pulls him down onto the couch beside him, situating himself around Buck’s body, resting his chin on Buck’s shoulder so he can read along.  

Buck flips to the first page. 

March 19 2024 

Secretly followed Hen on a hunch she had. Flew through a hurricane, and saved Cap and Athena from their capsized cruise ship. Came up with the team's new motto, “Who Cares!?!” 

Oh and I finally got to meet Tommy. He’s pretty cool!

Next to the entry is Tommy’s number, he got it from Chimney so he could call about the tour… and it’s circled. 

March 29 2024

Got a tour of Harbor Station today. Seeing all the helicopters and learning what all air ops does was pretty cool, not as cool as the guy who gets to man the helicopters and do all the stuff air ops does… but still. I kind of didn’t want the tour to end. I’d have loved to get to know Tommy a little more, BUT unfortunately he had other plans… weirdly they were with Eddie… he flew him to Vegas to see a fight. 

He did offer to give me flying lessons though… that will be fun. I wonder if he offered to give Eddie flying lessons too.

Buck can feel Tommy smiling. “So jealous,” he hears him whisper, and he nudges at his jaw with his shoulder. 

April 4 2024 

I have a date. 

Which is definitely not how I expected my day to end… giving it kind of started with me hurting Eddie.  

Ok so to explain that… I kind of convinced Chimney to bring me along to the basketball game because I was maybe just a little jealous of Eddie getting to spend so much time with Tommy when something always came up when I tried to… and I guess it just got the better of me. I feel really bad about it, probably will feel bad for a while…

BUT THEN Tommy came over! And he… kissed me!? And I liked it?!? And now we have a date. On Saturday. 

Yes… the date of their date was circled with a heart around it. “Awww,” Tommy says, pressing a kiss to Buck’s cheek. Buck laughs and turns the page, then quickly tries to turn it again, but Tommy stops him. “Can I see?” He asks. 

April 6 2024

I BLEW IT.

That was all that was written on that page. In big letters and underlined. Tear stains were scattered across the page. He feels Tommy’s arms tighten around him. “I’m so sorry baby,” he says quietly. 

Buck shrugs; smiles. “It’s all good because…” he skips a page to—

April 12 2024

I FIXED IT!

And now I have a date for the wedding! :)

Tommy barks out a laugh. 

May 6 2024  Buck writes about the bachelor party, and losing Chimney, and coming out to everyone at the hospital wedding

May 19 2024 Buck writes about helping save the kidnapped baby, and spending the night at Tommy’s for the first time. 

May 25 2024 Buck writes about the medal ceremony, and meeting Gerrard, and hating Gerrard, and wanting to fight Gerrard for being mean to Tommy, and wanting to make out with Tommy in front of Gerrard so he can go into homophobic shock and wither away like the old wrinkly ass he is…

May 30 2024 Buck writes about Bobby, and the fear he had about almost losing him. He writes about Christopher going to Texas, and missing him. He writes about Tommy, and how he thinks he can picture forever with him. 

June 23 2024 Buck writes about Gerrard being the new captain. 

September 1 2024 Buck writes about Gerrard finally getting fired permanently. The time under him was miserable; he didn't feel like writing during that time. He writes about Tommy being his rock through it all. He writes about thinking he’s in love. 

The timer goes off in the kitchen. “Well,” Tommy says, pulling Buck into his arms for a kiss. “That was nice, getting to see some of the stuff you keep bottled up. Thank you for sharing it with me.”  

Buck smiles; he feels that damned blush creeping up again. He holds the notebook close to his chest, carrying it with him back into the kitchen. That was close… he thinks. He really needs to find a better hiding place, at least until after their anniversary… 

.

.

.

March 29 2025

I bought a ring. I’m going to ask him to marry me on our anniversary. I want to spend the rest of my life feeling this happy and safe and satisfied. 

.

.

.

April 4 2025

He said yes!

<3<3<3<3<3

might put this one on ao3 later too!

[weemssapphic]

adjsfh so i never really send any requests but i really like your writing style so if your requests are still open could you maybe write a smutty piece featuring submissive larissa and dominant fem!reader. the idea i had is maybe fem!reader is some sort of a supervisor that came to the school to write a report on larissa?? and larissa decided to cover up some shady stuff she did by trying to seduce her and it ends up working lol but what she hadn't thought about is that reader is more dominant than her but she ends up actually really liking that??? idk if that's like too specific feel free to add to it or like do a slightly different thing if you don't feel this would work i just want sub!larissa ahahh *slithers back into the void*

hello ahkdhsj thank you so much! i absolutely hope this does your request justice, it's also my first time writing sub!larissa so i'm just gonna post this and slither back into my very own void <3 ao3 link in title as always!

warnings/content: nsfw / pwp, sub!larissa, cunnilingus, fingering, praise kink, feel the need to mention everything is consensual (I hope that comes across)

words: ~4.2k

Dominate Me

You pulled down the long, winding drive leading towards Nevermore Academy, past striking wrought-iron gates, putting your car in park as you reached the visitor’s spots by the entrance. Glancing at the time, you realized you had a few more minutes before your scheduled appointment, so you grabbed the thick manila folder from your passenger seat and leafed through it. You’d already memorized the contents but you thought it best to take another look, to have your facts straight.

You’d been sent by the school board to investigate the principal of Nevermore, Larissa Weems. After the attacks by a “bear” (or whatever that thing out there in the forest was) had left a student in a coma, the school had come under close scrutiny. Some discrepancies had come to light regarding the earlier disappearance of another student and, well, it didn’t bode well for Nevermore - nor for Principal Weems, who appeared to be at the center of the cover-up.

Confident you were ready to face the formidable woman, whom you’d already heard so much about and whom you had to admit you were more than a little intrigued by, you stuffed the folder into your purse and stepped out of your car.

A cool breeze whipped at your face as you ascended the steps to Nevermore’s imposing entrance, pushing open the doors and searching the entry hall for a hint on which way to go.

Quickly spotting a young girl with blonde hair sporting a school uniform, you waved out a hand and stopped her in her tracks. She eyed you curiously.

“Hi, I was wondering if you could point me to Principal Weems' office?” You smiled at the girl, hoping she wouldn’t be too intimidated. She smiled back rather timidly and nodded, saying “yeah, sure” as she guided you down several hallways towards a pair of wood-paneled double doors, adorned with a shiny gold plaque that read “Principal Weems” in an elegant font.

You thanked the girl and checked your watch. Right on time. Taking one last steadying breath, you raised your fist and knocked.

– –

Larissa paced the length of her office, furious that her already busy afternoon was soon to be interrupted by the likes of some school board supervisor who was surely going to try to discredit all the hard work she’d put into Nevermore. She’d spent so many years putting her entire heart and soul into the school - she wasn’t going to let just anybody come in and tear it down. No, she wasn’t going to go down without a fight. She had a reputation to uphold.

A knock on her door had Larissa nearly jumping out of her skin. She smoothed her skirt and checked her lipstick in the reflection of her cell phone, before click-clacking her way to the door to let in the visitor.

She was prepared for anything. She knew her story well - she’d rehearsed it at least a dozen times by now. And if all else failed? The art of seduction would always be on her side. Smoothing a hand over her hair and plastering on her best fake smile, she opened the door to her office.

– – 

The doors to Principal Weems’ office opened and you were almost taken aback at the woman standing before you. You’d heard much about her reputation - strong, unyielding, a woman to be revered and even feared. But what had failed to reach your ears was that she was also stunning, impossibly so. She was attractively tall, with silvery curls pulled back into an elaborate updo, accentuating a long neck and smooth, high cheekbones, lips painted a rich shade of crimson…

Your admiration, however, was cut short as she peered down at you with sapphire eyes, clearly waiting for you to speak, lips pursing ever so slightly.

“Uh, hello, Principal Weems. I’m Y/N Y/L/N, from the school board. I believe we have an appointment.” You reached out your hand for the woman to shake. Her hand was warm to the touch, soft, and you had to suppress a shiver at the contact.

“Yes, of course, please come in.” Larissa gestured for you to enter and shut the door behind you. You thought you heard the faint click of a lock, though you couldn’t be sure, so you brushed it off as a trick of the imagination and waited for Larissa to guide you to one of the leather armchairs opposite her desk.

“So what brings you here today?” The blonde smiled warmly as she sat in her own chair, placing her elbows on her desk and resting her chin on her palm.

You raised an eyebrow at her before rifling through the contents of your bag and pulling out your folder. “I believe the school board informed you why I’ve been called to come by? It should have been mentioned in the letter you received on March 1st.” 

Larissa pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration. “Yes, I received your letter.”

“Good. Then let’s cut right to the chase and start at the beginning, shall we? There was a student attending Nevermore, Rowan Laslow. His disappearance was reported to you by a Miss Wednesday Addams after the Harvest Festival in Jericho, is that correct?” You eyed the principal carefully for any tells - any signs of anxiety or deceit.

What you saw, though, was mostly agitation marring the principal’s gorgeous features. “Yes, that is correct.”

“Though you claim he hadn’t disappeared at all?”

“Funnily enough, he turned up again the next day,” Larissa batted her eyelashes and cocked her head to the side, her lips turning up into a smile - it wasn’t exactly a warm smile, though, there was something decidedly bitter about it.

“Well, funnily enough, Principal Weems, his parents claim he never did return home.” You gave the principal a smile of your own, curious what the woman would say now.

Larissa stood from where she was sitting and rounded the desk, perching on the edge of it just in front of your chair. You couldn’t help the wandering of your eyes up her form, trailing over her exposed calves, the area around her stomach where her skirt bunched up just a little bit, the pale, tender flesh between her exposed collarbones.

She smirked at you, your ogling not lost on her.

“Unfortunately, what that boy does when he leaves campus is none of my concern - he was expelled, after all. And do call me Larissa, darling.” Larissa’s voice had dropped several octaves since she’d last spoken, causing a wave of desire to wash over your core.

You rose from your chair, gaining yourself some leverage in the situation. “Do you care so little for your former students?” You stepped closer to her, until there were mere inches between your bodies.

Larissa’s pupils widened imperceptibly. “I’m not sure I like what you’re insinuating. But Rowan was a danger to this school and all of its pupils, and keeping him here was far too dangerous. If he chose to run away from his parents, well… that’s on him, I’m afraid…”

Larissa’s lips ghosted yours, her breath warm on your face. 

“You think you can seduce me into writing you a glowing report, Larissa?” Your lips brushed hers, hands coming gently to her waist, allowing your fingertips to rub against the fabric there.

Larissa’s teeth sunk into her bottom lip. The tables were suddenly flipping on her - moments before she’d been in control, well on her way to, well, seducing you into giving her a glowing report for the school board. And now here you were, trying to take that control away from her. She wasn’t used to being dominated - usually she was the one with the power, the one calling the shots.

She could only shake her head feebly and feel the smile that spread across your lips as they connected with hers. Her lips were soft, warm, inviting. You spread her legs apart so that you could push one of your thighs between them, reveling in the moan that tore from her throat at the action. It reverbated against your own lips and had you swiping your tongue at her bottom lip, a silent plea for entry. Larissa parted her lips and allowed you to explore the contours of her mouth, as your hands moved to her clothed thighs.

Larissa whimpered into your mouth as your right hand slipped under her skirt and trailed along the inside of her thigh. Her center radiated heat and you couldn’t help the guttural moan that bubbled forth from your chest as you felt how damp her panties were.

You pulled back, regarding the woman in front of you with awe. Larissa’s cheeks were pink, her lipstick smudged, her chest heaving.

Her brows furrowed, little creases appearing on her forehead as she narrowed her eyes. “Just what do you think you’re doing?” She tried to sound indignant but failed, only managing to sound extremely turned on as your thigh pressed further into her center.

“You’re an attractive woman, Larissa,” you met her gaze, quirking an eyebrow and watching as her cheeks darkened considerably. You took her chin between your fingers. “I’m going to worship you the way you deserve it. Are you going to be a good girl for me?”

You smirked as Larissa’s mouth fell open, her blush now extending from her chest to the tips of her ears. An interesting reaction to your praise. You’d have to file that away for later. “Tell me you don’t want it and I’ll stop. Tell me to leave and I’ll go without another word, it won’t affect the report.” You needed Larissa to know she had a choice in the matter.

Larissa’s eyes searched yours for a moment, finding nothing but honesty and a mad desire to bring her mind-numbing, all-consuming pleasure. “I want it,” she confirmed.

“The door is locked?”

“Y-yes,” Larissa looked to the ground, rather sheepishly.

“There’s no need to be embarrassed,” you cooed. “It’s just us. Now where was I?” You grazed the backs of your knuckles over the fabric covering Larissa’s core, a sinful moan dripping from her lips as her head lolled back. 

“P-please,” Larissa’s voice was low and shaky.

“Please what?” You knew what she wanted, of course you did, but you sure as hell weren’t going to make this easy for the woman.

“Please… fuck me.” Larissa’s gaze, pleading and famished, met yours, and you were happy to oblige her request.

You hooked your fingers around her underwear and slid them down her legs, planting kisses along the tender flesh of her thighs and the smooth, solid muscles of her calves as you followed them down. Discarding the underwear, you knelt before Larissa so that your head was level with her sex, suppressing a moan as you saw how wet she was for you, her cunt glistening.

Flattening your tongue, you licked a path through her folds, starting at her entrance and working your way to her clit. Larissa’s hips bucked forward and you felt a hand settle in your hair, pressing your face roughly into her cunt.

You pulled back, arching an eyebrow at the high-pitched whine you received in return. “Did I say you could touch?” Larissa’s hand dropped rather pathetically from your head and she flushed, a mixture of irritation, shame, and lust swirling in her pupils.

“Come here, gorgeous,” you cooed, reaching out a hand to Larissa for her to take as your other hand worked at the buttons of your shirt, unbuttoning them one by one at a tantalizing pace.

Larissa’s eyes were glued to your cleavage as you led her to the loveseat in front of her fireplace. You shed yourself of the button-up and guided Larissa onto her back, dragging her skirt down her legs and leaving little scratches with your nails on the flesh of her thighs as you did so.

Larissa’s hands found purchase on your own waist, pulling you in for a searing kiss. It didn’t last long, however, as you pushed yourself up and grabbed hold of her wrists, pinning them above Larissa’s head in a swift motion - you didn’t have anything to tie her up with so this would have to do. Your grip was loose but firm, wanting to provide Larissa an out while showing her who was in charge. Her pupils dilated, chest heaving as she squirmed beneath you.

“Are you gonna be a good girl for me now?” Larissa seemed to fight beneath you for a moment, each of her sapphire eyes flicking between yours, breathing coming out in shallow puffs as she twisted in your grip. Slowly, her movements stilled and she nodded, cheeks dusted pink.

“Talk to me, love. Is this okay?” One of your hands held her wrists in place as the other came to cup her cheek, thumb brushing against her bottom lip. Larissa mewled, leaning into the touch.

“Y-yes, it’s okay,” she murmured, squeezing her eyes shut.

“I’m going to let go of your hands, okay? And you’re going to leave them up there - no touching unless I tell you to.” You waited for Larissa’s nod beneath you before dipping your hands under the hem of Larissa’s top and finding her bra.

You slipped your hands behind Larissa’s back, expertly unhooking the offending garment and pushing it aside before working to remove her top and latching your mouth onto her nipple, sucking at the already hardened bud as your hand began to palm the pillowy flesh of her other breast.

You switched sides, ensuring no side would feel neglected as you nipped and sucked at her chest, feeling how Larissa began to squirm beneath you as your tongue soothed over the little marks you left on her skin. 

“Patience,” you chuckled, throwing Larissa a mischievous grin as you unbuttoned and removed your own slacks. Dark eyes roved over your body as you settled between her thighs, now clad only in your underwear.

You paused for a moment, drinking in the woman before you. The smooth, milky expanse of her thighs, coated in her glistening arousal, legs bent at the knee and dropped open for you. The pink flush of her heaving chest, moving in time with her ragged breaths. The soft flesh of her stomach and breasts, covered in goosebumps, nipples erect. Her long arms extended over her head, just as you had asked of her.

And that face - my god, that face. Eyes you could get lost in, staring down at you wantonly through mascara-coated lashes, batting against her high cheekbones, flushed with desire. Painted lips which had long since been smeared, parted slightly in question as you regarded her. An angel in human form.

“You are so gorgeous.” Your admission brought a fresh blush to Larissa’s cheeks. “You’re going to look so beautiful for me when I make you come.”

Larissa’s subsequent moan spurred you on as you ran a teasing finger through her folds, gathering up her arousal. You brought the finger to Larissa’s lips and she sucked it into her mouth, swirling her tongue around it and groaning. She released the digit with a pop that caused a fresh wave of desire to pool at your core.

“So wet for me already, hmm?”

Larissa practically purred beneath you. “God, please, please touch me.”

The low timbre of her voice spurred on your own arousal and as you brought your fingers back to Larissa’s cunt, you straddled her thigh to provide your clit with some much-needed friction.

You circled her clit with the pads of your fingers once, twice, before plunging two digits into her dripping center, moaning at the way her walls immediately began to draw you in. You began a steady pace inside of the blonde, curling your fingers into her sweet spot, creating pressure around her clit with the heel of your palm.

Larissa bucked her hips upwards with every thrust of your fingers, creating a delicious friction against your own cunt with her thigh. Your soaked panties rubbed against her skin and you rolled your hips in time with your thrusts, hissing as the seam of your panties rubbed against your throbbing clit.

She spread her legs wider, inviting your fingers deeper into her cunt. You added another finger, feeling her walls clench slightly. You could feel how close she was as her thighs began to tremble and she seemed to have trouble keeping her arms above her head as she writhed and squirmed.

– – 

Meanwhile, Larissa was coming undone beneath you. She had no idea what had compelled her to follow your orders, and it should have been easy to simply take back the control and force you into submission. But some part of her couldn’t help but to be intrigued by you, the way you took control of the situation. She found it (and you, if she was being honest with herself) extremely attractive, and relinquishing her dominance might just be exactly what she needed.

Larissa dropped her thighs open, as wide as they could go, a loud moan escaping her lips as you added a third finger. She wanted so badly to reach out and touch you as she watched you fuck her, and fuck yourself on her thigh. She could feel how wet you were for her through your underwear and the thought drove her wild.

A particularly sharp thrust of your fingers had Larissa crying out, eyes rolling back into her head. She could faintly hear you whispering praises past the ringing in her ears and her entire body felt like it was ablaze. She’d never had a lover shower her with praise before and the thought of being someone’s “good girl”, of being your ���good girl”, brought her over the edge. 

– – 

“You’re doing so well for me.” You smirked down at Larissa, watching as she panted and writhed beneath you, thighs still trembling from her first orgasm. “You think I’m done with you, pretty girl?”

Your own cunt throbbed with desire as you abandoned your seat on her thigh, still not quite having reached your own orgasm but dying for another taste of the intoxicating blonde.

You trailed hot, open-mouthed kisses up the inside of Larissa’s right thigh, then her left, stopping just shy of her center each time. You kissed the blonde patch of curls at Larissa’s mound, breath ghosting just over her clit. The woman let out a needy whimper, shifting her hips in a desperate attempt to get closer to you.

You dragged your tongue through her slit, finally latching onto her clit and drawing lazy circles around the sensitive bud with your tongue. You moaned at the taste of her, a heavenly mixture of tangy and sweet, the vibrations of your moan against her cunt causing Larissa’s hips to tilt upwards, pressing herself into your mouth.

“That’s it, gorgeous. Fuck, you taste good.” You continued to lap up the juices that flowed from Larissa’s center, barely able to contain your smile at the way she rolled her hips into your mouth. You hooked your hands around her thighs, dragging her as close as you could, burying yourself in her.

“C-can I…” Larissa’s voice trailed off into a breathy groan as your tongue dipped unexpectedly  into her entrance.

“Can you…?” You looked up at her in question, your eyes meeting hers, clouded with the lust of her impending orgasm. 

“Can I touch you?” Her voice was almost timid as her arms twitched above her head.

“Yes,” you grinned at the sigh that escaped Larissa’s lips as she brought her hands to your hair, fingers weaving into your locks, pushing you gently but insistently back down to her pussy. You obliged, lapping at her core as her thighs tightened around your head. Her moans were muffled, punctuated with sharp pains on your scalp as long fingers wound themselves tighter into your hair. Your lips never left her clit, tongue flicking languidly as you brought her down from her high.

Her legs released you from their iron-grip and you finally felt like you could breathe again. You cleaned her up with your tongue, pressing sweet kisses to the insides of her thighs and trailing up her body - her hips, her stomach, the swell of her breasts, her throat, finally capturing her lips, which curled up into a blissed out smile at the contact.

“You’re amazing, Larissa,” you whispered, relishing the feeling of her overheated skin pressed against your own. The feeling of her nipples poking at your bare skin, the taste of her arousal still fresh on your tongue, the sound of her breathing - heavy but evening out - were all doing nothing to quell the embers glowing in the pit of your own stomach. Every nerve-ending in your body was alive, raw to the touch.

“I regret to inform you, however…” you trailed off, taking Larissa’s wrist in your hand and guiding her between your legs. “That I am still very turned on by you, my darling.” Larissa’s pupils widened as you pressed her fingers against your center - warm, wet, aching.

“Think you can take care of that for me?” At Larissa’s feverish nod, you pulled her up with you.

“Get on your knees.” The blonde slid onto the floor in front of you and folded her legs underneath her, waiting for further instruction. “Help me with these?” You shifted your hips as Larissa hooked her fingers around your underwear and dragged it down your legs. 

Larissa suppressed a groan when she saw how wet you were for her. You brought your fingers down to your clit, amused at the rapt attention with which Larissa watched as you began to finger yourself. 

“Think you can put that gorgeous mouth of yours to good use?” You smirked down at Larissa, who didn’t need to be told twice as she placed her palms on your knees, spreading your legs as she settled her head between your thighs. She wasted no time in flattening her tongue against your sex, running it up your slit until she found your throbbing bud. Your hands found purchase in her curls, neither of you caring that you were ruining her perfectly coiffed updo as you pushed yourself into her, fucking yourself on her face.

“I’m so close,” you panted. “Fuck- you look so good fucking me, you’re being s-so good for me.” Larissa moaned into you and your nails dug into her scalp, your hips canting upwards rhythmically to meet her face. 

Your arousal dripped down Larissa’s chin as she picked up her pace against your cunt. The coil in your abdomen was winding tighter and tighter and as Larissa’s tongue began to tease at your entrance, dipping into your core, you felt yourself begin to come undone. Her thumb came up to brush against your clit, determined to prolong your pleasure as stars began to explode behind your eyes.

Once you had steadied your breathing, you leaned down, capturing Larissa’s lips for a sweet kiss, your own taste still fresh on her tongue. 

You offered your arms out to the woman. She seemed hesitant, but ultimately allowed you to pull her half onto your lap, her head on your chest, your fingertips tracing soothing patterns over the smooth expanse of her back. She didn’t seem like the type who often (ever?) relinquished control, so you were happy to give her a few seconds to ground herself.

You nuzzled your face into Larissa’s hair, almost involuntarily - she smelled of peonies and jasmine, soft and feminine, a heavenly combination. Her breathing began to even out against the bare skin of your chest and you couldn’t help the low chuckle that escaped your lips.

“Don’t fall asleep on me, Larissa,” you murmured into her hair.

Larissa peered up at you, an eyebrow quirked up in mock-offense. “Do I seem like the type?”

You grinned. “Not at all. I should be going though. I do hope you didn’t have any other meetings lined up after mine.” You nodded towards the clock on the wall.

Larissa’s eyes followed yours and a groan fell from her lips.

“Try not to act too disappointed. Against my expectations, I rather enjoyed our meeting.” Larissa couldn’t have looked more adorable in that moment if she’d tried - cheeks pink, curls falling into wide eyes, teeth worrying her bottom lip. “It - it did take a rather unexpected turn. I can’t say I’m disappointed at the outcome… That is, unless…?”

“You mean the report? As far as I’m concerned, Rowan simply… How did you put it? Ran away?” Your smirk widened at the relieved smile you received from the principal.

Larissa eased herself from the couch, reaching for her clothes and dressing herself. You followed suit, reluctantly tearing your eyes away from the blonde’s bare skin. After combing through your hair and wiping away remnants of Larissa’s lipstick from your face, you gathered up your belongings and headed towards the doors, Larissa on your heels to see you out. 

As Larissa began to ease the door open, you turned to meet her gaze. 

“You might want to, you know,” you gestured to the smudge of crimson that stained her chin. Comprehension dawned on her face, followed by a mischievous smirk as she leaned down to match your height, planting a kiss to the corner of your lips.

“Yeah, you too,” she gestured to the lipstick mark she’d just left behind.

With a chuckle and a shake of your head, you bid the principal goodbye and walked back to your car, wondering just how you would convince the school board to send you back to Nevermore again.

-

thank you to @afeatherformills and @scumppa for beta-reading <3 and tagging @orchidsshine and @sapphicsbeloved bc i think i remember you guys asking to be tagged in things but also correct me if i'm wrong hehe

[illvmiimoved]

Just Helping You Sleep.

Miguel O’Hara x AFAB reader (GN pronouns)

TAGS/INCLUDED: Lactation (not really nsfw though) * Dad!Miguel * Miguel is super smitten * if he’s Spider-Man is up to you * fluff * au where he had Gabriella normally so she isn’t literally dead

A/N: this is my first ever tumblr post so please have mercy LOL. What a first post am I right gang? Anyways happy reading ❤️

New account cause I screwed up 😭

Miguel has had one thing on his mind lately.

Your tits.

It was weird as hell, considering the situation, but it was true. He couldn’t get those damn things out of his head no matter how hard he tried.

He’d be busy at work, then boom. Titty thoughts.

You’d had his baby recently, which didn’t help (and was also the cause of the recent boob thought influxes). The baby was a beautiful girl and light of Miguel’s life, Gabriella.

You were breastfeeding Gabri, which was the main cause. You not only exposed them more often, but it also made your boobs larger than they were originally.

Miguel was honestly pretty ashamed of getting horny of you merely feeding your child, but here he was.

One day, Miguel was sitting on the couch, watching the news with a beer in one hand and Gabriella in the other. She was snug against him and content, ‘till she began crying.

You had raced over to get her, cooing things like “Oh no, what’s wrong, baby?” And “Are Papa’s stupid news stories boring you to tears, my poor thing?”

You swooped the little girl from his arms, and popped your shirt open in record time to feed her. Miguel nearly dropped his beer.

You noticed his staring and asked if he was alright, and he just said something akin to “Yeah, Gabi’s just so cute when she eats.” Which was true, just not the reason he was staring so intently.

The second a drop of milk dribbled down your boob and down towards your torso, Miguel began to sweat in his wife-beater and had to literally leave the room.

Miguel has caught himself having extremely weird thoughts as of late. A lot of the time, he realizes he’s actually envious of his 3 month old daughter for being able to be that up close and personal with your chest.

Another one is when that drip of milk dribbled down your chest, he had to actually stop himself from swiping a finger under it to catch it on the pad of his finger, and taste it.

He had absolutely no idea what was happening.

He currently was sat on yours and his shared bed, doing some work on his iPad. His glasses were sliding down the bridge of his nose, so he pushes them up. You walk in from just finally getting your daughter down, palming your boobs uncomfortably and looking around the room.

He looks up from his tablet, “What’s wrong, querido?”

“I can’t find that stupid breast pump, and Gabriella didn’t empty me before she fell asleep. It fuckin’ hurts.”

He saves his work before shutting his tablet off, getting up from his spot to help you look around for the pump to alleviate your pain.

You sigh exhaustedly, “I swear to god if it’s in her room and I have to go in there and risk waking her up-“

Miguel sits back on the bed when he can’t find it and for some reason, his mind decided that yeah, this was a great thing to blurt out;

“Do you want me to help?”

You stop what you’re doing and turn to look at him comically slowly. You stare at him, “Eh?”

Miguel pales in the face when he realizes what he actually just fucking said, what he suggested.

“I just meant- uhm- Amor I didn’t mean-“

He shut up before he could make things worse than he already had.

You walk over and sit on the edge of the bed, staring at him, “Did you… are you suggesting you drink me dry?”

Miguel lets out a loud groan, “Don’t say it like that, cariño!” He covers his face with his hands.

You just snicker and crawl up to your spot on the bed. You shrug, “We can give it a shot. I don’t see why not. I won’t be able to sleep like this.”

“Are you serious?” He whips his head up to stare at you. His gaze only grows more shocked when you slip your shirt off, over your head.

You lean back and rest your head on the pillow. Miguel could see you really were tired, so he decided to just dive right in, crude as that sounds.

He leant down and latched on, and hoooolllllyyy shit man. It felt so good. It was unbelievable. He’d fantasized about this for weeks on end, and it was finally happening.

Hell, the milk was perfect too. It was in his top 5 beverages for sure. Not because it was from his beautiful and lovely spouse who he loves more than anything, his beautiful and lovely spouse who could breathe and he would propose to you all over again.

You let out a long breath from the relief and tangle your fingers in his hair. He lets out a low groan at the action.

He reaches one of his hands up to squeeze at the breast he wasn’t sucking, and it fucking dribbled out milk. He could have came on the spot. He immediately unlatched from you to catch it on his tongue.

He switches to the other breast, pretty confident he had emptied your other one. He lets out a loud groan against you when you tug his hair slightly. You let out a sigh yourself. It was super pleasant, having a big hunky man sucking you dry.

Miguel kept on working, focused on mostly helping you get to sleep. Sure he was getting unbelievably horny, but he knew you really just wanted your rest. Having a tiny baby who clung to you like Gabriella did was exhausting.

He pulls back and uses his big hands to feel your breasts, making sure they’re empty enough to let you get some comfortable sleep. Once he’s sure they are, he looks up at you with a lovey dovey smile. You hold back a snicker as you raise a thumb to wipe away the remaining milk around his mouth.

“All better?” He asks. You could feel his excitement pressed up against you under the covers and he noticed. He shook his head and pressed a kiss to your forehead, “Don’t worry about it, Hermosa. It’ll go away. Just get your sleep, Mhm?”

You nod sleepily and cuddle against his side. He lets your head rest on his shoulder as he pulls the cover over both of you.

He looks at you with the sweetest gaze, “You’re so beautiful.”

You smile tiredly at him and press a kiss to his cheek, then lay your head back on his shoulder. You felt yourself drifting off to sleep, not as uncomfortable as before.

He mumbles,

“You will let me do that during sex though, right?”

You burst out in giggles, nodding and kissing him.

A/N: this was my first tumblr post ever so please give feedback if you want!! Thanks so much for reading ❤️

+ I did use spanishdict for the Spanish nicknames Miguel used, please lmk if I used them wrong or anything so I can fix them !

(the normal shit, don’t copy or redistribute this pretty please)

[vhagarlovebot]

FOLKLORE. academic rivals with modern! aemond. you could do a modern au but if that's not your thing then they could totally be battling over who knows high valyrian best.

ACADEMIC RIVALS — MODERN!AEMOND.

content warnings: fem!reader. nothing too explicit.

note: first of all, i’m so, so sorry it took me so long! i was struggling with my writing. like a lot. that’s why i didn’t answer your request sooner. i actually wrote this like ten times lol. i hope you like it and, again, i’m sorry to be answering this so late.

comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

YOU HATE AEMOND TARGARYEN.

you’ve hated him ever since he opened his mouth just to humiliate you, after you answered a question about the history of valyria, to add a tiny, little detail you forgot to mention—that you absolutely knew but thought it wasn’t important—saying that “they would know this if they had studied.” with the most cocky smile you had ever seen. he even had the nerve to wink at you before looking straight ahead, as if nothing had happened.

from then on, every class you shared was the same. you tried to ignore him but as time passed, you couldn’t fight the urge to prove to him that you were better in every aspect. but the more you try, the worse it gets. aemond sees it as a challenge and enjoys riling you up.

you hate aemond targaryen.

you hate his silver hair. you hate his pale blue eyes. you hate his pouty lips. you hate his arrogant and smug ass, always trying to win every argument you two have. you hate how tall and lean he is, and how his muscles flex under his shirt every time he leans down to grab his backpack. you hate how he can’t go a day without opening his mouth to humiliate you, which always end in debates that have the whole class hating you two more than you hate each other. you hate how smart he is, something you’ll never admit aloud, because feeding his ego is the last thing you want. you hate, hate, hate how your heart rate picks up every time he looks at you with such intensity, you can’t even hold eye contact. you hate how everyone seems to be falling head over heels for him. and you absolutely hate that you have found yourself staring at him more times than you should.

everyone knows how you and aemond can’t stand each other. and that is exactly why you professor thought it was a good idea to pair you two for the last project of the semester, that way you could learn to “get along”. as if you’re in pre-school again.

so here you are now, sitting across from him in the library, pretending to read something when, in reality, you can’t stop looking at him, as he’s focused on the paper in front of him.

“are you reading?” he asks all of a sudden, startling you.

“are you blind?” you try to play it cool, leaning back on the chair.

“apparently you are,” aemond laughs, the sound ringing in your ears. “you’re reading the book upside down.” a shiver rolls down your spine, face heating up in embarrassment at getting caught.

“yeah… whatever.” you leave the book aside, trying to ignore the big lump in your throat as you get up, not daring to look at him. “i’ll look for another book.”

what were you thinking?

you hide behind a bookshelf, covering your face with your hands. a million thoughts race through your mind, a lot of them being excuses so you can never have to face him again.

“i’m supposed to hate him,” you whisper, leaning against the bookshelf. you try to repeat the words in your mind but you can’t seem to believe it anymore.

“i don’t believe you,” you open your eyes, surprised that he’s followed you. aemond is looking at you with crossed arms and an amused smile. “and i’m sure you don’t believe that either.”

“you’re arrogant and annoy the shit out of me, of course i hate you!” but that only seems to amuse him even more, which makes you fume.

“nah, i think you want to kiss me.” he says, stepping closer. you take a step back, trying to avoid his intense gaze.

“that mouth of yours does nothing but talk dumb shit.” you slap his hand away when he tries to touch you, but aemond only chuckles, trying again and succeeding this time. his pale hand grabs your hip, caging you between the bookshelf and his body.

“such a fierce little thing.” he whispers, breath tickling your cheeks. “you want to know what else this mouth does?”

your breath hitch in your throat, and you lose the ability to speak. all you can do is surrender to him. the more you look at him, the more you notice certain things about him. like the freckles on his nose or the darkness filling his eyes, pupils so dilated you can barely see the blue.

“what? cat got your tongue?” he teases, hand sliding up, up and up until he cups your face.

“i hate you,” you sigh, closing your eyes and leaning into his touch. you don’t see it, but you can almost hear his smile.

“you keep telling yourself that, love,” he pauses and you stop breathing for a second, anticipation and adrenaline coursing through your body. “but i won.”

the butterflies in your belly go crazy the second you feel his lips against yours.

you hate aemond targaryen. or so you thought.

#note. . . i hope you liked it! some dialogues were taken from this list of prompts. comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

© vhagarlovebot, 2023. — do not repost, translate, plagiarise or claim any of my works as your own.