#daydreaming fics | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ohwowimlonley · 5 months

Note

ohhhh free use with poly!marauders would be something like the boys making it hard for reader to do watch a movie because they keep using her holes and passing her around. imagine the boys sitting in one couch and the reader is seated in remus' dick, waiting for him to cum until she is passed to the other boys 😵‍💫

Changed this a tiny bit to fit a bit better but here :) (btw its roommates!marauders)

Cw for free use/advanced consent

You’re alone in your room, curled up in the corner of your bed, blanket covering your thighs as you finally start watching you’re favourite movie. It’s the middle of the day, so you’re the only one at home while the boys are out at work. See, you and your roommates had come to an agreement; they would go out to work and pay the rent and bills and buy groceries (and occasionally gifts for you), allowing you to spend your days as you please. In return, they ask for only one thing: your advanced consent.

Now, let’s not get silly here, you can always tell the boys no at any time, and they constantly remind you of that fact. All the agreement means is that they don’t have to ask you, and sometimes they pull you away from what you’re doing when they really need you. There are also a few rules in place. For example, you shouldn’t wear panties around the house (that is, excluding extenuating circumstances), and you shouldn’t touch yourself before asking for their help first.

Just as the plot starts to get good, your bedroom door creeks open. You jump, not expecting anyone to be home for at least and hour and a half, but relax when you see it’s only Remus. Once he determines you’re not in the middle of something vital, he pushes the rest of the way into your room. He doesn’t say a word to you just yet, just pulls his tshirt over his head and works on unzipping his jeans, pulling out his cock from his boxers and tugging on it.

“Rem! You’re home early,” you grin up at him, not bothering to ask him why, it doesn’t matter so long as he’s home. He makes a noncommital ‘hmph’ sound as he clambers up next to you, grasping at your him and turning you onto your stomach, letting your shirt rise up and expose your pussy to the room, still puffy from James using it this morning.

“Shush,” he grunts, but he doesn’t really mean it. He just wants to get inside you as quickly as he can, “boys’ll be home soon, wanna have you first,”

You go to respond, but Remus interrupts your train of thought by letting a fat glob of spit fall from his lips onto the folds of your pussy and follows it with scraping his fingers through the stickiness. He wastes no time at all before slipping his cock into you, not going slow like he usually does to let you get used to his size.

You whine loudly at the burn his cock leaves you with, and while he doesn’t slow down he does set a soothing hand on the small of your back and bends over yiu to press a kiss to the bcak of your neck as he starts up his fast pace. It doesn’t take long for you to get used to the stretch, and you let your mouth drop open in a long, continuous moan.

You lose yourself in the sensations, almost forgetting about the movie still playing in the background as your roommate manhandles you all over your bed, using his full strength to let out his frustration on you. Remus hears the soft click of the front door opening, but you don’t, so you let out a confused whine when he pulls out of you.

“Shh, sweetheart,” he soothes, seating himself at the head of your bed and pulling you over his thighs, slipping himself back into you, “boys’re home, gotta make sure they don’t take my girl, huh?”

You don’t respond. You can’t, what with Remus slipping his fingers against your poor, aching clit. The door to your room is already wide open, so James and Sirius can see the two of you as soon as they get to the upstairs landing. James clears his throat and you whip your head around to see your two other roommates standing side by side, watching you take Remus’ cock. You make eye contact with Sirius, and he rolls his eyes playfully.

“Told you he’d get home first,” he jabs his elbow into James’ rib before taking his hand and sitting on the end of your bed with the other boy in tow.

“Your fault really, Pads,” he points out, then smiles up at you, shrugging his shoulders, “the boys were arguing this morning about who got to have you first when we got home,”

“I was gonna share with Jamesie here, but Moony’s a stinkin cheater,” the boy in question doesn’t pay them any attention, just renews his grip on your hips and brings them down to meet his own thrusts.

“Rem!” You protest, turning back towards him and putting your palms on his chest to keep your balance. You can feel him throbbing inside you, a telltale sign that he’s close, and thank goodness for that because you’re getting there too, and on days where they pass you back and forth like this, it’s best if you cum as little as possible in the beginning.

“Who’s it gonna be next, love?” James is always more careful with you, his voice always questioning, never demanding. This by no means indicates that he isn’t just as desperate as you. In fact, on days where it’s all three boys, theres never a time where he isn’t practically forcing his cock into you.

There’s no opportunity for you to even try to answer his question, because Remus is anchoring you to him and spurting his cum deep inside you.

Sirius goes to tug you from Remus’ lap, but he locks his arms around your back and prevents you from moving even an inch further away from him. Sirius and James let out grumbles of displeasure.

“Rem, honey, share,” you remind him. When he eventually lets you go, James gets to you first, “can I face this way? I wanna watch my movie,”

All three boys chuckle amoungst themselves, and silently vow to make it as difficult as possible for you to watch your movie.

#•megs talks•#•megs smutty daydreams•#marauders x y/n #marauders x you #marauders x reader #marauders moodboard #marauders fic #marauders smut #marauders #james potter x y/n #james potter x reader #james potter smut #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin smut #sirius black x reader #sirius black smut #harry potter x reader smut #harry potter x reader

4K notes · View notes

cacaocheri · 5 months

Text

sun from help wanted 2 got me thinking about fic shenanigans.... i think he gets to be a bit more unhinged

#its MY fic so i get to make sun jealous #tbh i was agonizing about posting this i know i was just talking about how supportive this fandom is #but i was like 'what if this is too indulgent'#GET OUT OF MY HEAD #hopefully i can post more fic propaganda #my art #sun fnaf #daydreamers #charlie daydreamers #fnaf sun #sundrop #sundrop fnaf #security breach #sun x y/n #dca fandom #the daycare attendant

3K notes · View notes

venuslore · 8 months

Text

sitting on rafe's lap always drives him insane. he loves the way your bum looks, all heart-shaped and cute on top of him, and he always purposely leans back. man-spreading beneath you so that you're more situated on his crotch. he instantly goes fuzzy in the head, and breathes in sharply when you slowly start to roll your hips against him. "fuck, keep doin' that and i'm gonna make a mess," he groans in your ear. you just laugh lowly, knowing that you have him in the palm of your hands, "maybe that's what i want." you continue to move, feeling him grow hard between your legs, "oh, i fucking bet you do." he retorts, a groan coming from the back of his throat. your panties grow wetter and every so often his cock hits your clit, pulling a moan from you. his breath deepens, breaking up the praises he's giving you, his chest rising and falling dramatically. he feels so good, your moisture transferring to his pants as you grind harder on him. it all starts to become too much and he throws his head back, eyes clenched shut as he reaches for anything to grab onto, settling for your hips as you roll yourself against him a few more times. "holy fuck, baby," he exclaims, pants soaking up his mess as he lets it all out.

#— ꒰ ‧ ₊˚ vee daydreams ˖꙳‧ ꒱#rafe cameron ᰔ #— not sfw ! ᰔ #rafe cameron thoughts #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron concept #rafe cameron blurb #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x fem!reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron fic #drew starkey smut #drew starkey x reader

3K notes · View notes

moremaybank · 7 months

Note

rafe is defo the kind of boyfriend to steal ur panties🫣🫣🫣

so...i sort of ventured into another direction but i'm not mad about it. innocent-ish!reader (18+)

stepbro!rafe who steals your panties to jerk off in them, and then makes you wear them all day long. he does it because he can't stop thinking about you. how you smell, how you taste. the way you're so innocent compared to him, and how he's slowly been corrupting you since he met you. he gets you to watch, has you sitting all pretty on his bed. your eyes glimmer with wonder, remaining locked on rafe's large fist circled around his shaft. he strokes and twists at his cock, thick veins protruding bulging from his hand. gravelly moans tumbling from his lips alongside every curse word under the sun. the silky fabric wrapped around him provides him with friction and encourages his movements. his eyes hold your gaze captive because you're awestruck and it feels good as hell to watch. your heart thumps harshly against your chest, threatening to break free. the apex between your thighs runs damp as you leak with excitement. you (not so) subtly grind your core as best as you can against the mattress beneath you, or clench your thighs together as the blood rushes to your clit. "thought you were innocent, princess?" he rasps, his free hand tipping your head up by your chin. "now look what daddy's doing to you. turning you into a slut for his own amusement. ain't that right?" and the way he says it, all filthy and cocky with a smirk playing on his lips...you salivate. your cunt throbs for him, and you're sure there's a wet patch soaking through the sheets beneath you. "answer me," he demands as his hand moves to grip your jaw. you swallow hard before muttering a yes, daddy for him. "god, keep lookin' at me like that. gonna cum." with you right in front of him, he pictures finally breaking your pussy in. pictures your eyes rolling back, and your little whimpers as he stretches your virgin hole nice and wide. pictures his hand wrapped around your throat, forcing your eyes open so you look at him and only him. how wet and warm your silky walls will feel around him. and he cums. his load fills your panties, thick, creamy white laying on the thin black fabric. still fighting for his breath, he shows them to you, watching your eyes widen in delight. "you're gonna wear these for daddy, alright? want you walking around soaked in me all day long. can you do that for me, sweetheart?" and you're pulling them on faster than you realize.

concepts ; concepts (ii)

2K notes · View notes

sunsburns · 3 months

Text

[ nsfw 17+ ]

i’ve been thinking about frat boy!luke who tries to throw the biggest party the world has ever seen at least once a month. he's one of those guys who is actually convinced he can throw a party exactly like project x. but maybe even better (his words i swearr).

he’d even be corny enough to print out a bunch of invites and just throw them around the school so whoever’s interested can just show up.

and that's where you met him, at his biggest party yet. the party was already at full swing when you got there; music blaring through the speakers, colourful lights glowing from the open windows. students and crashers alike jumping to the music and holding red cups in their hands.

and then you catch his eye. he’s standing near the backyard, just walking back into the house to get more drinks when he spots you.

and yeah, you’ve had a class or two with him before, he might have asked you for a pencil once. you doubt he remembers you though.

but then one look turned into three, and the lingering stares from across the room, and knowing smiles, and nudges from friends continue.

you eventually bump into him on the dance floor, both tipsy. a drunk smile crosses your face as you wordlessly start to dance together.

what starts off innocent quickly turns into something more, your hands brush his arms, his hands find themselves comfortable on your sides, and they start to crawl to your waist, then your hips, and if you were a little braver, you might’ve grabbed his collar and kissed him then.

but instead, luke took your hand in his, and he leaned closer, close enough for him to ask you if you wanted to go somewhere a little more private. somewhere quieter, he said, so you could talk.

and you would’ve loved to talk to him, to get to know who the real luke castellan was, his interests, what he studies, where he’s from. but all those questions start to blur the moment you find yourself climbing up the stairs, turning corners and giggling behind him when he walks in on a couple fucking in the bathroom.

you barely remember what you want to ask him when he pushes you against a wall at the end of the hallway, music a little muffled, breaths a lot louder. and now you’re gasping into his mouth, your teeth crashing against his because there’s no coordination in your movements. one hand at the back of your neck to hold you while his tongue slips into your mouth.

and you’re both touching each other, hands wandering over clothes, fingers twitching to touch the warmth of skin, squeezing whatever there was to squeeze frantically.

your head spinning as his other hand pulls your leg up, up and up until you can wrap it around his hips, and he presses his crotch against yours. he tastes like cheap liquor and bad mistakes, and you try to ignore the way your stomach twists whenever he says your name (or at least something that sounds like it, maybe off by a syllable or two).

you bite his lower lip, tugging on it with your teeth and you let go to stare at him for just a second. he's a lot prettier up close. his big pouty lips, the scruff hair on his face. the way he smirks at you before pulling his cap off and placing it over your hair. “fit’s like a charm.”

you roll your eyes, “shut up.”

his hands find themselves under your shirt, cupping your boob and squeezing them gently as he sucks a bruise to your neck. you decide to take a leap and reach for his crotch, glancing down the hallway to make sure you’re away from peering eyes before you unbuckle his belt and grope him over his boxers.

it's all wreckless, and messy, where he tries to undo the buttons of your shorts but his fingers are trembling from you touching him. and while you’re not actually sure of what you’re doing, you love the noises luke is making, so you keep going.

he’s huffing into your neck, your ear, then back into your mouth, little whines that urge you to move faster, his black cap nearly slipping off your head.

“fuck- wait wait,” he sputters, pulling away from you.

you need to suck in a deep breath to clear your head. “what-?”

“you're in my calc class, right?”

“seriously?”

#made myself giggle #i have a daydreaming problem actually #gonna have to write a frat!luke fic now…#me when lol #luke’s cabin #frat boy!luke #luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan smut #pjo series #luke castellan x you #luke castellan fanfic #luke castellan drabble #luke castellan fanfiction #luke castellan fluff #charlie bushnell

910 notes · View notes

arcanegifs · 4 months

Text

#caitvi #arcane #me rn #life has been poopy recently but im glad i can daydream about caitvi as an escape LMAO #speaking of thank u to caitvi artists and fic writers bc every time i see any caitvi fanwork #serotonin just shoots up to my brain to remind me to be happier lol #ik its shallow but yeah...... it helps a lot esp with me being busy and tired irl #meme #type: gif #media: arcane #s1 ep5

1K notes · View notes

stylescine · 2 months

Text

I literally can’t stop thinking about riding Harry first thing in the morning. The sunlight is just barely passing through the window and his arms are wrapped tightly around you.

He’s awake and leaving small kisses all over your neck, one hand splayed across your stomach. It’s when you wake up too that you notice his arousal pressing against your back. Your legs are intertwined and you gently move your foot up and down his leg before you turn around to face him.

Harry’s curls are all over the place, but his gaze seems quite defined. Lust. Desire.

“Good morning, love.” His voice is raspy and still unused from last night’s sleep. Your lips finds his in a sloppy and short kiss. Harry’s hips press against yours, a firm reminder of what’s going through his mind. He always looks so beautiful in the first light of the morning and his bare chest is enticing you once again.

It doesn’t take long for you both to be naked, Harry sitting against the headboard and his cock filling you. Your hands caress his strong chest, fingers moving over the tattoos as you just look at each other for a long moment.

“I love you,” he whispers, hands finding your hips even in the dim light and he’s helping you move up and down on his cock. As always, it feels as if he was made for you, filling you to the brim and giving you the right amount of pleasure. Your legs press close to his hips as you support yourself on his chest, moving up and down with more speed now.

Harry’s head tips back against the headboard, revealing his beautiful neck to you. You’re quick to plant kisses along his jawline, only being interrupted by your own moans as Harry starts thrusting up into you as well. Every thrust brings you a little closer to orgasm, the tension in your abdomen building. His nimble fingers dig into the flesh of your hips and his pink lips part for a low moan as his muscles flex underneath your touch.

“M’close,” he announces briefly before his gaze is searching for yours. He loves to watch you come all over his cock and that’s the sight he wants for when he’s reaching his own high.

Just a few more thrusts and you’re both there, Harry’s head falling back against the headboard with a thump and his name echoing from your lips throughout the bedroom. His arms wrap tightly around you, pulling you flush against his chest before he plants soft kisses against the top of your head.

His cock is still twitching inside you and as you close your eyes against his chest, you let out a long breath.

“Good way to start the morning…” you mumble softly and Harry’s chest rumbles with his laugh.

just a little thought i had in mind 🤭

masterlist

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #daydreams #harry styles fanfic #harry styles x you #harry styles fics #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles smut #harry styles x y/n #harry styles headcanons #love on tour

477 notes · View notes

bones-of-a-rabbit · 3 months

Text

Sun is a serial daydreamer in the Readerbot au. It’s just a fact I don’t make the rules

434 notes · View notes

madrewrites · 1 year

Text

not writing my wip and not not writing my wip but a secret third thing (elaborately daydreaming about wip)

#writing #writers #writeblr #writers on tumblr #daydreaming #writer #maladaptive daydreaming #wip #writers on writing #writers block #work in progress #more like #word in nogress #fic writers #authors #fanfic #authors on tumblr #writer meme

4K notes · View notes

nomazee · 8 months

Note

Silly little thing I thought of

Like like imagine dazai and the reader have been friends for years like the reader knew him since his 15 goofer era... and they got used to eachother sm they usually sleep in eachothers beds n stuff :3

LIKE SOMETHING IS GOING ON BUT THEY STILL HAVE THE FRIENDSHIP LABEL.. 🐺🤞

this concept stuck itself in my head like a tapeworm and it has not escaped me for days IM ACTUALLY OBSESSED i wrote SO MUCH for this omfg i had so much fun writing this thank u for this wonderful idea pairing: dazai x gn reader word count: 2.5k content: fluff, vignette-style writing, friends-to-lovers unspoken label type of thing, soft dazai, domestic fluff without the marriage bit, banter, idiots in love im taking requests!

===

Dazai’s toes are still as frigid at night as they were seven years ago. You, of all people, would be the best person to measure this—not in a weird way, but you two have shared a bed at least once a week since your teenage years. You know all of Dazai’s annoying sleeping habits, including his ones of sleeping without socks and digging his feet into your shins for warmth.

Annoying fucker. You sigh, batting his arm away from its loose hold around your waist. “Get your toes off of me,” you croak out, half-conscious and mind still addled with the remains of your once-deep sleep.

“What toes,” Dazai mutters back, smacking your intervening hand away and returning his arm to its rightful place around you. “I don’t have toes. I got rid of them after puberty, ‘member?”

“I’m gonna kill you.” You won’t, not really, and the threats have lost their edge after all these years, but it’s fun to throw at him when he annoys you like this. “I know all your weaknesses, Osamu. One wrong move and you’ll be missing more than just your toes.”

“I’m cold, dear. Would you really let me freeze like this? So mean.”

You try not to choke up at the nickname. He’s been a fan of those recently, at least in the last year. You think it has something to do with your new places at the Agency. New workplace, new life, and new nicknames, apparently. If you overthink it you might puke on him and fall back asleep.

“Not cruel. We have money now, you know. Go buy yourself socks. Wool, or something. Stupid ass cold ass toes.”

He goes quiet. Even in all these years of knowing him, half-living with him, you can’t tell if it’s a normal lull in the conversation or a calculated pause. It doesn’t unnerve you as much as it used to, but there’s still a cold chill at the nape of your neck that springs up at times like these.

“Why would I do that when I have you?”

Dazai has also been a fan of this recently—strange uncharacteristic moments of tenderness. He peels himself back for you and bares himself raw. The implications make you nauseous. Swathed in the darkness of the night, he can’t see your fingers twitch from where they lay next to your head, away from his sight; or the conflicted expression that crosses your face.

Easing your breath out into a steady, deep rhythm, you pretend to be asleep. It’s not like he can’t tell, but the message is there. Let’s not talk about this until the morning. Let’s just sleep for the night. Let’s keep what we have and not change it for the worse.

At age eighteen, shaken with the death of his friend and haunted by blood stains on his fingers, Dazai defects from the mafia.

He doesn’t take you with him—at least, he doesn’t mean to. He expects to leave quietly, or as quietly as blowing up Chuuya’s car can be. He doesn’t expect you to drag yourself along kicking and screaming.

Dazai doesn’t remember much about specifics, but he knows that one day he was alone in his underground apartment and the next day you were there. The kitchen smelled like melted marshmallows and rice krispies and his dingy counter was covered in sprinkles.

“Hi, Dazai,” you’d greeted conversationally. “I’m making your favorite.”

He doesn’t even like rice krispie treats. Hates them, actually.

In truth, your presence is less the result of you “kicking and screaming” and more like an after-effect of your own quiet stubbornness. Your kicking-and-screaming was done in the passive aggressive way that you cleaned his dishes and made his bed and left big trays of rice krispie treats in his fridge for the next week.

Neither of you talked about Chuuya. It was better for you that way.

On the first night, Dazai remembers you holding him from behind, forehead pressed into the stretch of skin between his neck and shoulder. He’s sensitive there despite being wrapped in his stupid scratchy bandaids. His memories for the rest of the night are overrun by a feeling of want, an itch to feel your fingers on his bare skin, a craving for your hand on his stomach to slide beneath the hem of his shirt and press into the tender skin of his abdomen and keep him warm.

===

“Leave me alone,” you grumble from behind the sleeve of your jacket. “I’m napping.”

“It’s not napping if you’re still awake.”

“I wouldn’t be awake if it wasn’t for your annoying ass.” Rotating your body to face the ceiling from your place on the Agency’s couch, you sigh when your view is blocked by Dazai’s ugly stupid face. He’s smiling in that conniving way that he does when he’s about to do something super annoying. Another sigh escapes you when he leans down close enough for the overgrown ends of his hair to brush against your nose. The puff of air from your verbal discontent makes the strands sway slightly. You try not to think about how mesmerizing he looks when he’s this close, with the light from the window casting a golden sheen on the crown of his head.

Since when did you get this sappy? Must be Dazai rubbing off on you, obviously.

“So tired already! It’s barely noon.”

“You came into work an hour ago. I’ve been here since eight. Try being responsible for a change, might exhaust you just as much.”

“Hmm.” He tilts his head, big stupid shiny brown eyes blinking down at you like he’s observing a specimen. “I think I’m more than responsible enough.”

“Sure,” you relent, turning back around to shove your face into the corner of the couch and block out the incoming light. It’s the truth—you’re exhausted. A persistent weariness permeates your bones from how much you’ve been working these last few weeks. It’s not like it’s anyone’s fault in particular, not even Dazai’s despite how much he slacks on paperwork. But looming threats from enemy organizations hang over everyone’s heads and there’s no shortage of uncertainty in the Agency. It’s been mission after mission for you, and you’re taking every break you can get.

Rustling sounds from above you, but you pay it no mind, busying yourself with nestling all of your body into the crevices of the couch and hopefully turning into a piece of furniture yourself. It might be a more peaceful life, really. The calm is short-lived when you feel fingers tap along your cheek—not in a rousing gesture, but something along the lines of placating.

Dazai squeezes a hand beneath your head and cups the side of your face pressed against the couch, tilting it closer to him before you feel a warm press of lips against your cheek. He lingers. He always does. You can feel the gentle inhales and exhales breeze against your face before he breaks his kiss away. Your cheek is warm for more reasons than one.

“Take care of yourself,” and oh, god, you’ll never get used to this, never get used to how tender and soft he’s become with you, never get used to how this Agency has fostered something like kindness in both of you. Your stomach stirs with something unnamed and if you were braver, you’d blink your eyes open and reach up and grab the sides of his face and pull him down to you.

But you’re not brave, and there’s people still behind you in the office, and you wonder what led Dazai to be soft enough to kiss your face like that in front of everyone. You’re sure they’re watching you both. The Agency is full of gossips, whether they admit it or not.

===

“Dazai,” Ango Sakaguchi grits out from behind the crackling reception of a burner phone. “They were not a part of the plan.”

“You think I don’t know that, Ango?” Dazai replies, tone more playful than aggressive. “I know they’re not a part of the plan. They knew they weren’t part of the plan, too. But it’s too late to do anything about it. It’s just a minor change.”

“A minor change?” Ango’s voice is strained with stress, no doubt pulling out strands of his hair as they speak. “I have to deal with not one, but now two members of the mafia defecting. Do you know how much work this was to begin with?”

The thing is—of course Dazai knows. He knows everything. The minute he found you in his kitchen, his stomach dropped with the uncertainty of the future. Going underground with another person was nothing short of a burden, at least on paper. But, he couldn't find it in himself to think of you like that. Like a burden.

“We’ll figure it out, Ango. If you don’t, then we will.”

A gritty sigh sounds from the other side of the phone call. “I’m putting a lot of faith in you, Dazai. Don’t screw this up.”

===

“Made you lunch. Since, obviously, you’re not gonna do that for yourself any time soon.”

A closed plastic container is thrown on the counter in front of Dazai. He looks at it, then up at you, eyebrow raised as if he doesn’t have a clue what this could be about. He’s not that stupid, though. You of all people would know that.

“How nice of you! Too bad I’m not hungry.” His lip juts out in a poor imitation of a pout, and he looks ugly with it. So ugly. Ugly enough to make you feel the need to kiss him all over and then slap him. An incredulous huff escapes you.

“I don’t care if you’re hungry. Eat. It has crab in it, see, your favorite.”

“I thought my favorite was rice krispies?”

You freeze. It hadn’t occurred to you that he might remember that, after all this time. You don’t dwell, because that’s the worst thing to do with Osamu Dazai—dwell.

“Don’t act stupid. Just eat it. Even if it’s not the whole thing, at least some of it. It would do you some good.” Getting serious with Dazai is one of the most awkward, unbearable things you could ever do. He has a way of making you feel stupid for worrying about him, with all his roundabout jokes and skills of evasion built up over years. You’ve found that being straightforward is the best way to avoid all those blank moments of silence.

His fingers curl around the plastic lid and pop it open. The container is still warm, having cooked all its contents just half an hour before showing up at Dazai’s apartment with conviction in your eyes. “Sure,” he says. “I’ll have some.”

You bring out a duplicate container with a serving for you, and treat yourself to a juice box from his fridge. You try not to launch into a lecture at the sight of his barren pantry—that’s best done by Kunikida. The both of you eat in silence, sitting across from each other at Dazai’s dusty kitchen island.

He only gets through a few bites before pushing the container away and complaining about how full he is. You know it’s not the truth, but it’s the mixed-up signals that his body sends him. It’s not that he’s full, but his persistent lack of appetite has caused a lot of troubles for him in the past and you don’t doubt that it’ll keep causing troubles in the future, too.

“Let’s get you to bed, then,” you tell him, dragging him up from his chair despite his whining protests. “I won’t make you shower, but you should probably do that tomorrow, ‘cause your hair’s about to get all greasy and disgusting.”

“So crude.”

“I do my best.”

You let him change on his own, but not before picking out a nice soft set of matching pajamas from deep inside his closet. You grumble a little in annoyance. The set was a birthday gift you got for him a year ago and that asshole pushed it to the back of his wardrobe and never touched it again. What a brat. You throw a pair of fuzzy socks at him to boot.

Once he’s changed into proper sleep clothes, you can tell that the exhaustion is starting to hit him. He sways a little on his feet and his blinks last for a little too long, as if he’s chasing sleep every time his eyes shut. With another begrudging sigh, you set him down on the floor of the bathroom and dollop his toothbrush with fruity kid’s toothpaste—because of course that’s the only toothpaste he owns—and brush his teeth for him.

Dazai dozes off in the middle of it, and you can’t bring yourself to wake him up in the most annoying way possible. You try really, really hard to not think about how soft you’ve gotten. You’re an ex-mafia member, past coated with dark stains and entrails and death, all of those dark things. Your blood is just as black as Dazai’s, if not more. And yet, being a part of this stupid Detective Agency with this stupid man has melted you down into something parallel to good.

Don’t dwell. It’ll do you no good.

You use a gentle grip with the toothbrush, ensuring that his delicate gums don’t tear with the force of the bristles. A warm feeling stirs in your chest. It feels like you’ve proven something, like you’ve proven to the world that your coal-stained hands can be gentle, too. You can kill and you can nurture. You tap Dazai awake with a little more care, now.

“Rinse your mouth,” you tell him in a whisper. “Then you can sleep.” And after a pause, you add, “I promise,” because now you’re in the business of making promises to people.

Dazai rinses his mouth, and you wipe off the remaining droplets of water from his face with a paper towel that you leave on the counter for your future self to throw out. You lace your fingers with his as you walk to his bed. Not that he needs any guiding. Of course he doesn’t. It’s just a little extra insurance, you think.

“Stay with me,” he mumbles out the minute you lay him down on the bed. It’s a sentence, and not a question, because he’d rather die than ask you something so vulnerable. He’s doing it again—peeling himself back and baring himself raw for you. Your head swims and your vision blurs with either a migraine or with tears, you can’t tell. But your lips quirk up into a stupid smile and he sees it despite his half-lidded eyes, and he smiles back like the stupid dope that he is.

“Yeah, of course. I’m right here, Osamu. Go to sleep.”

And he does. Of course, not before he feels you cup the opposite side of his face and plant a warm, lingering kiss on the swell of his cheek just as he did for you weeks before. The faint laugh that he lets out before he falls asleep is enough to tell you that he’ll be making fun of you for it in the morning. For now, though, he’s soft and pliant and warm between your hands, and you sleep.

#dazai osamu x reader #dazai x reader #osamu x reader #bsd x reader #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #osamu dazai x reader #dazai x you #dazai osamu x you #dazai osamu fic #bungo stray dogs fic #bsd x you #bungou stray dogs x you #dazai osamu #i forgof how to tag hejkp me #openeing up comissions soon... maybne....#this was so fun to write like it lived in my brain for a week and i wrote a little bit every day #i had DAYDREAMS ABOUT THIS CONCEPT BRO LIKE

784 notes · View notes

ohwowimlonley · 5 months

Note

james potter likes leaving your panties soiled with his cum. he loves cumplay so much. he wants you keeping his warm while you talk to his friends. sirius and remus probably find it hot seeing the discomfort in your face while you try to walk properly 😵‍💫

Anon ur so real for this. I have things to say.

He’ll do it multiple times a day, pulling you from lessons with his prefect privellages and whisking you away to a forgotten broom closet and asking you oh so nicely to wank him off into the lace of your panties.

Every time he fucks you, he does it raw, and he has so much fun playing with your puffy little pussy afterwards. He’ll lay down between your legs on his bed, digging his fingers into your tight channel, scooping out his cum and smearing it across your sensitive lips, watching in fascination as you jerk from oversensitivity.

His favourite thing to do, though, is fuck you in front of his friends. He just loves showing you off, having you face his friends as he fucks up into you and inviting them to cum all over you cunt. God, it makes him so fucking horny when he feels his friends’ cum drip down your pussy lips and onto his cock.

#•megs ask box•#•megs smutty daydreams•#james potter x y/n #james potter fluff #james potter x reader #james potter smut #james potter fic #james potter fanfiction #marauders fic #marauders x y/n #marauders x you #marauders x reader #marauders smut #harry potter x y/n #harry potter x you

2K notes · View notes

venuslore · 6 months

Text

𖥔 𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𖥔

summary ; coriolanus needs to learn how to relax.

pairing ; young!coriolanus snow x fem!reader

notes ; smut. 18+ content. minors do not interact! handjob (male receiving). swearing. spoilers for tbosas !

do not transfer, translate or share my work to any other sites.

coriolanus’ determination to achieve the plinth prize was palpable. the coveted prize, awarded annually to the top students at the academy, granting them money and essentially a free ride through the university, was all he had been focusing on.

countless books lay strewn across his desk, balls of crumpled up paper scattered around the room, as he stood before it. leaning against the old wooden table as his arms firmly held him steady. it was a clear indication that coriolanus had been pushing himself, striving to make every word and every thought count.

while it was something to admire, that didn’t stop the worry that had been seeping in. it wouldn’t have been obvious to most, but to you, someone who spent a lot of time with him, you could see the dark circles that had begun to encapsulate his eyes, the way his hair was slightly disarrayed, or the fact that he hadn’t even completely changed out of his academy uniform. only his bright red pants and blue shirt still firmly clad on his body.

he doesn’t hear you come in, doesn’t hear the thud from you closing the door, or you dropping your bag on the chair in the corner of the room. too enthralled by his textbooks and whatever scribbled nonsense is written in them, that it’s not until you wrap your arms around him from the back that he finally takes notice of your presence.

a smile spreads across his face as he places a hand atop of yours, “what are you doing here?” he asks, surprised but pleased to see you.

you pull him closer, embracing the feeling of holding him in your arms after barely getting to see him that day. the smell of roses filling your senses as you drink him in, “tigris let me in, said you’ve been cooped up in here all afternoon. plus, i… missed you.”

“i really missed you too, my love, but i-”

“-have so much to do. i know,” you cut him off, finishing his sentence. the same sentence you had been getting for weeks now. “which is exactly why you are going to put away the books and spend some time with your girlfriend.”

you can physically see the gears beginning to turn in his head, trying to think of a way to let you down gently. you didn’t take it to heart, you knew how important it was for him to win the plinth prize. you were the only one outside of his family that did.

“you already know you’re going to get that prize, coryo,” you sigh, “nobody even comes close in comparison to how hard you’ve been working for it, but you’ve gotta stop spreading yourself so thin.”

“i know, but tigris and grandma’am-”

“-would agree with me, that you need a night off,” you press a gentle kiss to the back of his shoulder, and pull him in even tighter. his head lulls back to lean against yours, blond curls falling into his face as a sigh leaves his lips. he knew you were right. “you’re always taking care of everyone else, let me take care of you for once.”

he turns to look at you now, eyes big and dewy, a mixture of surprise and understanding as he comprehends the hidden meaning behind your words. however, before he can utter a single word in response, your hands gently glides along his abdomen, gradually tracing its way down to were the band of his pants delicately meets his waist. his breath catches momentarily, captured by a flicker of anticipation, while his unwavering gaze remains fixed upon your own, unyielding and brimming with unspoken emotions.

“you’ve been working so hard,” your voice is barely above a whisper, almost tauntingly, but he hears you all the same, “... let me help you relieve some of that tension.”

coriolanus swallows hard, falling into your hands, both physically and metaphorically, and he surrenders with a nod. it brought a smile to your face to see the hard exterior he put on crumble, become powerless, and just from your mere touch.

his back stiffened as he leaned against you, watching as your hand roamed lower now, trailing down to where he was confined behind his pants. a shaky breath escapes him and he shifts on the balls of his feet, waiting with anticipation as you finally make contact with his now pulsing bulge. nothing separating you except for the thin material of his underwear.

“y/n,” he sighs, your name falling from his lips so gracefully.

you can’t help the small laugh that escapes you, pleased to see the effect you had on him. “shh, don’t think about it, you do enough of that as it is. just relax,” you push on your tiptoes to kiss his cheek, as a bright flush spreads across it.

you could feel him getting harder in your grasp, his breaths growing shorter and lower, eyes flailing closed with desperation. your hand runs circles around him, groping him where he needed you the most. it brought you pleasure just to hear the soft moans escaping him, watching him lose control to you.

his chest rises and falls at a dramatic pace, his patience wearing thin, but that was all part of the fun. you wanted him needy, begging for you to touch him.

“fuck, y/n,” he gasps, illiciting a stroke of excitement in you.

deciding that he had enough of you teasing him, you waste no time delving into his underwear and releasing him from the constraints of his pants. an audible sigh of relief comes from coriolanus as you do so, his body shuddering slightly at the warmth of your hand finally making contact.

he rests in your hand, his largely endowed member, all pretty and pink at the tip. you stroke him teasingly, rubbing the end with your finger to gather the pre-cum that had trickled out, using it to help you start stroking him. he shudders from the movement, struggling to stand still as you slowly pump your hand up and down his shaft.

you remove your hand momentarily to collect some of your spit and when you hold him once more he shudders, struggling to stand still, and his hips begin to move involuntarily. if there was one thing coriolanus loved more than you pleasuring him, it was watching you pleasure him.

tucking his chin against his chest, he watches as your hand works his length, pumping back and forth with ease. his hips jut forward, begging for more, until it all becomes to much and his hands lurch forward to grasp onto the table before him, just like they were when you walked in.

“let it out for me, baby,” your voice is reassuring in his ear, sweet and soft, full of promise.

hearing you speak to him in such a way pulls a moan from the back of his throat and he just about loses it. his body tightens at the same time, hips bucking himself into your hand faster as the coil in the pit of his stomach finally bends and breaks.

he clamps his teeth down on his lower lip to muffle his moans, trying to remain quiet so that no one else could hear what the two of you were up to. his knuckles turn white as he gently bangs his fist down on the desk, and it’s only seconds before your hand is warm with his cum.

“fuck me,” he whisper-shouts, eyes clenching shut as his hips jut and dick twitches in your hand.

“that’s my boy,” the comment pulls a small chuckle from coryo as you remove your hand, his white secretion now coating it, “though, it does seem like an awful waste. i guess it’s a good thing i’m not done with you yet.”

2K notes · View notes

moremaybank · 1 month

Note

okay I still cannot stop thinking about best friend jj and reader. Its mentioned her parents have body shamed her in the past and her mom makes that comment about her hips. What if it really got to her at one point and JJ is the only one who noticed. Not like a full blown eating disorder thankfully but that he noticed her skipping meals and he had to sit her down on his lap and tell her she was perfect...sorry just me thinking lol

eeek! first in between au request! thank you for the continuous love ♡︎ warnings reader skipping meals, body shaming (r's parents), bsf!jj being a sweetheart as usual [1k]

At first, it wasn’t a big deal.

JJ was well aware that sometimes, when you were stressed, you’d forget to eat. He’d urge you to at least steal a few pieces of food off his plate (okay, maybe more than a few), and his mind would be at peace knowing that you were now fed and taken care of.

But soon, he noticed that it became a daily thing. You’d tell him you weren’t hungry, or that you’d already eaten earlier, but then, he’d hear your stomach growling and watch you blatantly ignore it. You looked exhausted all the time, your physical strength was depleting. He’d watch you grow snappy at the smallest things, watch the way you’d pick at your food and move it around on your plate mindlessly every time you two ate together. Then, you’d dismiss his concerns with a forced smile.

After a few weeks had gone by, and your actions had remained the same, he knew something was up. He couldn’t stand to see you become a shell of who you usually were. There was no spark of wonder in your eyes. It was like all your hope had been sucked out of you.

He also knew that your family was hard on you when it came to your body. And it sucked to admit, but at the beginning, he hadn't thought too much of it. Now, though, something was going on with his favourite girl and he was determined to get to the bottom of it.

“Hey, you feel like goin’ to the Wreck? I'm feelin’ a seafood boil right now.”

You simply shrugged him off, your gaze remaining on the work in front of you. You’d been consumed in it all day, barely even blinking an eye in JJ’s general direction.

“Not really hungry. I can come with you, though?”

Approaching you at your seat in front of your desk, his hands pried the pen from your hand, and he placed it down on the wooden surface. Then, he crouched down to get a better look at you.

“What’s goin’ on with you?”

You turned away from him, scared of looking into his eyes. His tone indicated that you’d been caught. You should’ve known that he would pick up on your change in demeanour sooner or later.

It was JJ.

Getting things past him simply was not a thing. It never was.

Still, though, you’d make the effort even if it proved to be pointless. You weren’t sure the honesty was worth seeing the disappointment on his face.

“Nothing. Jus’ not hungry.”

“Y/N, I haven’t seen you eat a proper meal in two weeks.”

“I said I'm good, J.” Your voice was bitter and sharp as you picked your pen back up, breaking free of his hold and trying to continue with your work. “If you wanna eat, go eat.”

He took the pen from your hand again, stuffing it in his pocket so you couldn’t get to it as easily.

“You really think that by now, I don’t know when you’re actin’ up?” He held your face in his hands, ensuring that you couldn’t look away from him again. “Jus’ tell me what’s goin’ on so I can fix it.”

“You can’t fix this, J.”

He sighed softly, his thumbs swiping over the apples of your cheeks. “Try me.”

You stalled for a moment. You didn’t want the judgement, You knew what he would say.

Y/N/N, don’t listen to him. He’s a piece of shit. He has no idea what he’s talking about.

If this was about anything else, maybe you would’ve believed him. But after hearing comments from your parents about your body for almost two decades…maybe their words had some truth to them, right?

But when you looked into those oceanic puppy-dog eyes, it was as if he was willing the truth out of you wordlessly. Sighing, you broke free of his grasp carefully. You strolled over to your dresser, pulling your phone off of the surface and opening your messages on your way back to him. You handed him the device, the glow of your screen illuminating his face as it showed him the texts you’d received from your father earlier last week.

You think your mother and I haven’t noticed how you’ve gotten fuller? Everything you’ve worn to our events lately has only made you look worse. A girl your age should be slimmer. We should get you on a diet, up your physical activity.”

If you don’t fix your appearance, you’re going to embarrass us in front of our colleagues. We can’t secure this deal if you’re looking plump.

I’ve had it. You shouldn’t accompany us anywhere for the next few months. Not until you get your weight under control.

Rage bubbled deep in his core, threatening to swallow him whole. It had always puzzled him beyond belief — how your parents could look at you and see the complete opposite of what he had.

Perfection.

He tried to remain stoic. You’d never been happy when he got upset over things your parents had done in the past, and right now, when you were looking so pained, how could he make things worse?

“Y/N/N,” he said, hands bracing your shoulders. “You can’t keep doing this to yourself.”

You couldn’t even find the courage to look up at him. You were too scared, too ashamed. You didn’t want his pity, you just wanted the voices to stop, and though you believed JJ could do anything, you weren’t sure if he could quiet that noise.

It was too blaring.

“You’re actin’ like there’s somethin’ to fix, but there isn’t. You’re perfect. I don’t care what your dress size is. You don’t need to be cuttin’ back. End of story.”

“J, it’s just not that easy—”

His index finger found your lips, effectively shushing you and garnering your attention. “They’re wrong about everythin’ else, right?”

You nodded slowly. “…Yeah.”

“So what makes ‘em right about this?”

He got you good. He’d always had a certain way with you, and thank God he did.

One of his hands abandoned your shoulder, finding your face instead. Blue eyes bore their soul into yours, trying to engrave how he viewed you into your brain.

“Eat whatever the fuck you want. You’re beautiful, and you always will be.”

581 notes · View notes