#delirious in the morning while writing this

[stayinlimbo]

We Become We

pairing: husband!lee minho x reader genre/warnings: friends to lovers, marriage of convenience, fluff, poor attempts at me trying to be funny, mc's gender is not specified word count: 1.02k note:  i am not dead yay. i tried my best since i haven't had time to write for almost a month so please take this as a peace offering ♡

Marriage. It’s an interesting concept, isn’t it? 

You’ve always thought so, at least. Two people agreeing to sign a legal document and tethering their lives to each other for whatever reason, be it love, societal expectations, familial pressure, financial security, etc. 

Yours happens to be a man named Lee Minho. The same man you’ve been friends with for as long as you can remember. The same man who asked you to marry him for a reason you didn’t get to learn until he was already down on one knee. 

(“I’m sorry, you want me to WHAT?” “Marry me. Please, I need health insurance.”

“Okay, yes, sure, whatever; now please get off the floor. People are staring.”)

Lee Minho, who, after dragging you to the courthouse and legally becoming your husband, finally elaborated on how his job would pay him more and cover both of your health insurances if he was married. So really, in his words, he was “doing you a huge favor” by marrying you. 

And, in all honesty, he really was. No, you didn’t have a ring to show off your new husband’s weird skill at finding loopholes in company policy, and you’re like thirty-five percent sure the two of you are committing some kind of marriage fraud, but does it really matter when you can finally start using the hot water in your dingy apartment without worrying if you’ll have enough money to fund your crippling caffeine addiction? The government will have to drag you kicking and screaming before you resort back to mankind’s cruelest form of torture: cold showers. 

Not to mention that marriage didn’t even change your relationship with Minho. And why would it? You’re still you, and he’s still him. He gets on your nerves just the same, maybe even a little bit more after he decided to frame your marriage certificate in his living room and send a photo to all your mutual friends. You’ll never forgive Minho for laughing at your helplessly panicked state when the group chat wouldn’t stop exploding with messages and incessant calls. 

You’re still his best friend that resides in his apartment four out of seven days of the week while he inhabits yours for the other three. Maybe that’s why, two weeks after your “wedding,” when it was time to renew your lease, Minho suggested with a simple shrug of his shoulders that you move in with him since “you’re here all the time anyway.” 

You’ve really got to learn how to say no to him because now you wake up next to your best friend/roommate/husband in his one bedroom, one bathroom apartment at the crack of dawn with a light pressure on your chest and fur in your face when his cats decide you need to wake up right now to feed them. 

Not to say you don’t like the new arrangement! No, that would be the furthest from the truth. 

Sure, you didn’t appreciate your skin care routine being interrupted by the unexpectedly high-pitched scream Minho let out when he saw you in a face mask for the first time, and what kind of person still has their phone’s brightness turned up all the way before bed? But who else would willingly tolerate your deliriousness before your morning coffee or indulge in your pleas to cook your favorite food three days in a row? 

Living with Minho has only made the purely platonic feelings you harbor for him grow stronger.

That’s what the fluttering in your chest means every time you see him, right? The reason for the smile that grows on your face when you hear the distinct jingling of keys at the front door?

Yeah, that must be why heat spread across your cheeks when he handed you his phone to text one of his friends back, because since when did the heart emoji make an appearance next to your pinned contact name?

You just care about each other, that’s all. It’s normal to want to make sure he arrived at work safely and ask how his day is going during your lunch breaks. It’s normal to start receiving back hugs before bed—a comforting weight as Minho’s chin rests on your shoulder while you apply the rest of the products to your face. 

It’s natural to have doubts about the nature of your relationship during an evening walk, acutely aware of his fingers lightly brushing against yours as you silently study his features illuminated by the soft glow of the scattered streetlights. What if he meets someone else and falls in love with them and wants a divorce and– oh. 

Has he always looked at you like that? With his gaze softening as it locks with yours? With the corners of lips lifting into the gentlest smile you’ve ever seen? With all the stars shining above you finding a second home in his eyes? A look so loving that it takes your breath away and you can’t tell if you’re about to laugh or cry in relief. 

And when you return home to get ready for bed, the familiar feeling of hands wrapping around your waist and a careful pressure resting by the crook of your neck quells the remnants of your worries.

It’s you and Minho. Minho and you, just as it always has been. Just as it’s always meant to be.

The distance between your bodies on the bed becomes nonexistent when you curl yourself into his side, laying your head on his shoulder and intertwining your legs with his as he immediately, unhesitantly, adjusts his arm, his fingertips finding purchase on exposed skin and roaming across the span of your back. A kiss to the top of your head is the last thing you feel before the gentle lull of breathing and the rise and fall of his chest begin to soothe you to sleep. 

…

Ah, marriage—what an interesting concept. Two people agreeing to sign a legal document and tethering their lives to each other for whatever reason, be it love, societal expectations, familial pressure, financial security, etc. 

You love your husband, and you’re beginning to think he loves you too. 

liked this work? want to let me know how i did? please like, comment, and/or reblog; they are greatly appreciated my asks are always open ♡

taglist: @linospuddin @linocz @spicyhyunn

#lee know x reader #lee minho x reader #lee know #lee minho #skz x reader #lee know fluff #lee know scenarios #lee know imagines #lee minho imagines #stray kids x reader #stray kids lee minho #stray kids lee know #stray kids scenarios #stray kids imagines #stray kids #stray kids fluff #stray kids fic #skz #kpop imagines #skz scenarios #skz fluff #lee minho x y/n #lee minho x you #stray kids x you #lee know x you #lee know x y/n #stayinlimbo

[insidilust]

something so precious about puppy boys reaching a level of desperation that makes them try to get off on you during inopportune times.

sitting in a desk working while that clothed tdick ruts against your leg, grinding and seeping wetness through his underwear and onto your pants like hes in heat. little poor thing sandwiching your limb between his thighs and making the sweetest sounds, desperate for some attention and release.

its bad manners, really, but the best part is having a reason to punish him later for it.

#ftm nsft #ftm ns/fw #t4t ns/fw #t4t nsft #mlm ns/fw #mlm nsft #pet pl4y #puppy sub #ftm dom #ftm top #ftm bottom #ftm sub #delirious in the morning while writing this #miss this sort of thing. #thinking of bunny boys too #might do another post..

[ch3irv3]

(joker voice) how do you feel about … chiscara, batman?

I thought I had already responded to this, but I just typed it out and forgot to post it??? I’m sorry for the super late response, omg.

You poor soul, you don't even realize what you've asked.

-> These are just my head canons so this may be very ooc. I'm sorry if that bothers you.

They’re 100% angst, no happy ending (I'm so sorry, joker </3).

The way Childe forgets about him in game is actually really funny. Imagine being so deeply in love with someone and then suddenly forgetting their existence entirely. My condolences chiscara fans.

We need to open up a case study on their relationship, I think.

They’d be so unhealthy for each other(least during pre-scara redemption arc, not sure about post, but we’ll see once they meet again). Scara seems like the type to bottle up his emotions and blow up when they get to be too much. Childe would probably push his boundaries, unknowingly. A tiresome on and off, but I wouldn’t necessarily say couple. They seem like they would be unlabeled (they are only together when scaramouche feels like it, with no regard to Childe’s feelings).

Doomed lovers.

Cringe analysis and HC warning !!

They’re perfect opposites of each other, but not in a "haha, opposites attract" kinda way; more like in a “I genuinely cannot fathom a way either of you two would get along or even see eye to eye.” They’re on both opposing sides of a spectrum.

Family isn’t a concept Scaramouche is all that familiar with, he’s been wandering around with all this resentment and anger towards Ei in his heart. The earliest and closest thing he’s ever had to family or at least what a mother is (he's had others, like kazuha's grandpa, but this experience with Ei was the catalyst for it all), or at least the concept of it, was probably what ever small time he spent with Ei in trying to become the stand in for the electro archon.

-> I’m delusional (and also a firm believer in trans Scara 🙏 so this would all be pre-transition), so walk with me for a second. I fully believe EI created Scara with the similar traits to Makoto (whether it be intentionally or unintentionally) because she could not come to terms with her sister’s passing, in futile attempt to lessen her grieving, she made him. But instead of bringing her closure, of which she desperately needed, he ended up becoming an ever present reminder of Makoto's death. Naturally, It eats away at her. He's so gentle, so human (as human as a puppet can be ig)... just like her (I wouldn't be surprised if he shares similar ideals to Makoto during this point). She doesn't dispose of him, like Yae suggested (and was more than willing to go through with, if given the chance) not only because she loved him, but because in doing so it would feel like loosing her again. She instead drifts him off into a peaceful slumber (but not without tears nor heartbreak).

Which is in stark contrast to Ajax. Now, that's not to say Childe's childhood or family (him and his father are definitely not on the best terms) was any better, but he is indeed a family man. He would have most likely gone even more insane after his time in the abyss if it weren’t for them. So a lot of what he does is for their sake (even if his father may not agree). He’s only ever thinking about them. He is devoted to two things, the tsaritsa (silly God-fearing man, lmao. tbh, he's got that catholic guilt look to him) and his family.

I feel like scara resents him the moment they meet. Ajax’s really ran away from home because things back home were getting boring. Scara would kill to be in his position honestly; a warm home and the loving embrace of a mother. Scara constantly battles with the feeling of being unwanted or replaceable (oh he needs so much therapy). Which is why he is constantly pushing others away, better to be by yourself than open yourself up to the possibility of getting abandon again and again.

#asks #writing this while in a delirious state at 3 in the morning #they’re one of the few actually interesting mlm ships imo 🫡 #childe x any character with a predominantly blue color scheme is so canon actually

[emsvertigo]

Be My Angel ⋆·˚ ༘ *

"holding on to you, holding on to me, holding on tight 'till my love is crossed."

summary & genre — fluff. a slow morning wake up with paul, perhaps it'll bring confessions of love.

warnings — mentions of pregnancy, sexual references, brief descriptions of death & injury, me being in love with paul

character & pairings — paul atreides x fem!reader

word count — 2.4k

a/n — this is a bit of a shorter fic than the others I'm planning as i'm trying to get back into the swing of writing after so long! i couldn't resist writing this about paul as i have fallen back in love with one of my favourite characters. i hope you all enjoy! <3

find my masterlist here!

˚ · • . ° .

You awoke to his fingertips drifting their way across your frame, peppering the freckles and moles on your skin with smooth motions. His calloused fingers were careful not to apply heavy pressure, ghosting along your body, in fear of disturbing your slumber, something he had subconsciously accomplished.

The sunlight was trickling through the sheer curtains, material floating in the warm breeze that the Arrakis air had blessed you with. Shimmers of gold danced their way into the cascade of blankets that shrouded the two intertwined bodies in a covering of comfort. The tangled mess of limbs beneath the protective silk sheets radiated warmth, something that was in plentiful supply in the desert world. The bustle of groups in the courtyard below the haven where you rested began to rise in volume as your ears adapted to the surroundings.

You moaned sincerely, exhaling for as long as your lungs would psychically allow without a cough erupting from your throat. Your eyes slowly open in a drunkenly sleepy state, the sunlight from outside temporarily overwhelming your perception of the world for a moment, squeezing your eyes shut while your body lets out a whine of a yawn. You stirred, flushing your hips and rear against the build behind you, Paul breathed deeply in response sending tingles up your neck and into your thoughts.

His warm hands continued their travels around your body, wrapping their way around your shoulders to hold you close. You found your lips turning in a delirious smile, as you imagined the drowsy figure of devotion behind you, nestled against your warmth and the pillows behind him. Your back pressed into his chest as he nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, a careful whisper falling from his lips; “I did not mean to wake you.”

He tenderly planted a kiss against the skin that lay there, softly rubbing his cheek against the blemishes decorated along your skin, soaking in your very human spirit. You feel the curve of his jaw drift along your nape as his gentle, slow, kisses make their way along your neck, breathing in every inch of your scent he could take. You moaned in response, opening your eyes totally this time, your body used to the sudden shock of being alive.

“I’m glad you did.” You responded, your voice still groggy, clinging to the last linger of your immobile delicate state. You lay, basking in the calmness that enveloped your being, gently sneaking one of your hands along the front of your nightgown, careful not to disturb Paul’s peaceful position, as you brought a finger up to itch at your eye. His warm breath hummed into your neck in response, your heartbeat aching for him once more. A breath fell from your lips as he held you tightly, taking in the moment as he merged your bodies together into one tenderness engulfed by his power and strength. You savoured the moment like a sip of sweet wine after a hectic meeting, swirling the droplets of love like rivers of drink.

The room around you bathed in your tranquillity. You found your legs moving with your newfound sense of cognition, intertwined in your lover’s frame. The pools of light from the arched windows gushed down the side of the windowsill, soaking the bed and the corner of the room in a stunning haze of molten gold, almost blurry from the waves of blistering heat. The light reflected beautifully off the bed frame, dripping down the carved animal shapes etched within the golden slab, blinding your gaze as your eyelids fluttered. You breathed in, a wave of zesty air running through your nostrils, cleansing the inner workings of your mind with the very soul of the planet.

As you took your sudden breath, you felt Paul's hold shift beneath you under the weight of your slight movement. You seized the moment, taking advantage of his sudden loose grip, adjusting your position and surrendering the window for a better more perfect view. Paul followed your movements as if you were conjoined in thought, his strong arms instinctively enveloping your back, holding you close against his chest in a protective embrace, even though there were no instantaneous threats nearby. You felt his heartbeat slow against your chest, steady and reassuring, his bare skin shining in the light.

As you now faced him, you couldn't help the smile that thrived on your lips, taking in the sight of your betrothed so close. The boy you once knew had transformed into a man before your eyes, a thought which made your heart ache in the face of growing up, leaving adolescence behind. His jawline was more defined, leaving pudgyness behind him, cheekbones higher and his features so handsome and distinguished. A real Duke's son. You felt a sudden rush of rich emotion as your hand traced its fingertips along the side of his jaw, marvelling at how he had grown and changed. His eyes quivered with the sudden light pressure of your skin against his bones.

“Hello.” You beamed softly, his features soaked in the glitter of gold, sparkling along his face and drooping down his perfect nose. The side of his lips began to upturn with a small smile, a flash of his crooked teeth blessing your vision for the smallest second before they were covered by his beautifully pink lips. His eyebrows furrowed as he gazed your way, eyelids almost fighting to stay open, threatening to close because of your close proximity. His hair, messier than usual, fell in delicate strands around his face, framing the perfect bone structure laying there, his cheeks hugging the curls close to his flushed skin.

“Hi.” He breathed, the air fanning across your face as he left a short kiss on your nose, lingering for a moment longer than needed before retreating back to face you. Your heart fluttered, still slightly dozy, but ever so alert for your man. Your special, special, man.

The relationship between you two hadn't sprung up overnight, it had been a cocktail of emotions dancing in the embers of a powerful childhood friendship. However, every subject, noble, royal, or warrior thought the former, that your relationship had been a strategised plan by two houses in desperate need of strength. The concerns of your emotions had been thrown in a heap in favour of their taled hearsay, sheltering your true desires for one other behind a mask of misleading plot and scheme.

From the moment you had first met Paul, soft cheeks that burned deep crimson, green eyes that shone like emeralds in inquiring and thoughtful gaze, baby fat still hanging from his frame, you had known he would be yours. You had taken his hand, being the older of the duo, and whisked him through the castle grounds in which your residence was kept. You documented how he had blushed when your finger outlined his hand when trying to imitate your mother's palm reading practices, thinking it hilarious when he had goggled at you in disbelief when you had told him his death was nigh, throwing your head back, laughing at your own foolishness. You didn't know it then, too sheltered by the shadows of youth and innocence to understand the burning ache that overpowered your every meeting with the delicate boy.

Although caught in the memory, you pondered how these feelings had never been addressed between the two of you. Only acted upon in burning frenzies, unmarried and improper. The naked warmth laying beside you, arms holding you close, was a byproduct of one of these moments. Parents and advisers oblivious to the intense lust you two harboured for one other.

“Did you sleep well?” He pondered, retreating to face you, his eyes darting from eye to eye unable to focus on one, desperate to take in all your features at once. The shimmering green of his eyes almost opaque in the light, shining a shade of hazel into the retinas.

“I did.” You smiled, recollecting the dream that flooded your mind when nestled in between the pillows and Paul’s figure. How real it had felt, “I dreamt of you.”

He hummed in response, as your hands continued their journey along his beautiful jaw, the stubble of manhood ghosting over your fingers as a reminder of his age. The dream had been simple, a premonition, a glimpse into the future of you and your sweet boy.

The sand beneath your feet had glimmered, Spice dancing over the sunburnt dune in which you had been perched. Paul looked different, older, wiser, almost an image of his father, standing proud and bold against the Arrakis rays. His frame was larger as if he had started taking his role as sole heir to his house's name seriously, the unquestionable probability that his father may not be alive forever finally sinking into his mind. He wore a Fremen stillsuit, fitting him like a glove and hugging his newfound larger muscles in a promiscuous yet savage way. Your hands had interlocked as you looked out into the vast desert, your body also adorning a suit of a similar nature, modified presumably by Paul to fit your frame and protect your body's water, storing it for later consumption. A small tent village was buried in the sandy dip below you both, lights and laughter emulating in the dying sun.

When your fingers had interlocked Paul turned to face you, the difference in his features striking you. His hair was longer, as though it hadn't been cut for a few months. The curls still framed his face, which was now older and worn, blemishes patterning the skin from work in the daylight, the planet consuming his once delicate and prince-like qualities. Small wrinkles lined his face, and his mouth turned up in a small treasuring gin, the corners of his eyes creasing in a look of eternal gratitude. But his eyes.

Oh, his eyes. Plunged into the deepest pool of oceanic blue, the colour reaching all across the sclera of his optics, swimming in his iris like a monumental wave on Caladan. A trademark of the Fremen, indigenous people of Arrakis, a sign that he, even you both, had been in their company for a period. He had drawn you in for a kiss, closing his eyes and pressing your lips together softly. One of his hands had gradually reached down the front of your suit, landing carefully on your stomach as if you may break of fragility.

"How is she?" He had whispered, the tube in his nose directing filtered air into his lungs, a massive smile now plastered across his face. You looked down to the small bump in your suit, peaking out in a reminder that you were his forever, and your family was about to start growing.

At this sentence you had awoken, your precious lover’s hands roaming around your arms and as you faced him now, you allowed yourself to smile, a wide preposterous smile.

"Why are you grinning?" He pondered, his hands rubbing along your back. "Was the dream that good, perhaps a premonition?"

A sudden urge ravaged through your body at the sight of him, the gentle sound of his voice. Perhaps the dream had made you hormonal, the thought of pregnancy clouding your judgement in a flash of beautiful white light. Your heart soured, the beating now frantic in your ears, tiredness dripping from your brain as it filtered its way out of your consciousness. For the first time in what felt like years, you were thinking clearly. The flash of the tomorrow, speeding through time at a pace unimaginable to those lacking your incredible power, the Bene Gesserit bloodline rushing through your veins, a path which you could have easily chosen, but instead preferred your heart. The adoration you harboured for this young man, his hair messy, was enough to make your sanity blank.

"I love you." The confession dripped from your lips, carrying the weight of an over decade-long friendship shattering with it. Most would ponder, question, how the friendship was not ruined when Paul first carried you to his room, your arms wrapped around his neck as you planted small drunk kisses against his sweaty skin. The breathless gasps and tender touches could not be shared between friends, mere friends did not know what it felt like to bed each other, bound eternally by an action you frantically clasped when you were mere late teenagers. How, when he came of age, you found yourself laying in these very sheets, starkly bare before his lean figure.

The words hung in the air the two of you shared, your heart beating tighter and quicker than it ever had before, thumping in the back of your mind as you impatiently awaited his reaction. Yet, Paul did not flinch, did not squirm when the three words left your breath in a tiny whisper, barely audible. His eyes maintained their movements between your two visions, still unable and frustrated that he could not drink your very body immediately, he believed it would be more deadly than the Water of Life, it would destroy his very being from the inside out with the amount of admiration he felt within his gut.

He brought his figure forward, interlocking his lips with yours, needy for your taste against his tongue. Your hands scratched down the side of his cheeks, trying your hardest to pull, engulf, him in your worship. You were suddenly reminded of your premonition, the blink into the future, his lips feeling the same as they would then. The thing that would return the man with you now to you at any moment, his love returned you to your shared youth, his palm against your hand as you read his future. But now you saw it, you saw it oh so clearly, and his mortal peril was your last concern when you had him so vulnerable, only yours until the stars exploded into supernova and the planet's moons crashed into the sands.

When he pulled away, his hands retracted from your back to cup your cheeks, running his thumb along the underside of your eye, removing a piece of sleep under his tender grasp. As your proximity caused your breaths to mingle, he answered your statement, the words dripping like saccharine from his tongue. Your sweet boy.

"I love you."

˚ · • . ° .

#emsvertigo fanfictions #paul atreides #paul atreides fanfic #paul atreides x reader #dune #dune 2021 #dune 2024 #dune frank herbert #fanfiction #fanfic #dune fanfiction #dune fanfic #timothée chalamet #timothee chalamet #timothée chalamet fanfic #timothée chalamet x reader

[mochimooon]

handsy - jean kirstein x reader 18+

Jean really likes to finger-fuck you. 'Nuff said. notes - established relationship. this came to me suddenly one morning and possessed me to write this on the fly. Zero plot, barely edited, minor POV switch, just filth :) warnings - explicit content, vaginal fingering, pervy! jean word count - 1800+

Jean is a handsy man. Or rather he’s a shameless perv – your words not his. 

Then again, it’s hard for Jean to deny that. He can’t help it, never with you, not with the body you have. Moreso, he loves touching you. 

The feel of your body, molding into his touch. The softness of your flesh, the roundness of your tits so fun to grope and pert nipples, too cute to not pinch. And then there’s that neck of yours, always adorned with a chain or necklace that calls his attention, a vampire that needs to sink his teeth into. He can’t forget those legs of yours. How they bend and stretch, looking so pretty wrapped around his waist and neck.

It's no secret, Jean loves to touch you in the most lewd ways. He calls it worship, you call it shameless. 

To-may-to, to-mah-to. Because despite your bravado, you enjoy being spoiled by him, fending him off with lighthearted attempts. 

But there is a line that you’ve been forced to draw, one that Jean crosses again and again and again. 

It’s just not fair, he thinks. Of course, he’s more than thrilled to have you in any way that he can, but he wants to draw his own line that crosses over yours. Because pray tell, why it’s such an issue that Jean, more than anything else, fucking loves to finger you. 

After you had swatted his hand away for the nth time during a dinner date, you demanded to know why he wanted to finger you constantly. 

It was the first time, Jean had to think about it. There’s just something so naughty about sneaking his hand where it shouldn’t go. It’s perverted, he acknowledges that, and that’s what makes it the most fun. Something everyone’s taught— keep your hands to yourself. Jean likes doing the opposite with you. 

The feel of your pussy pulsing around his digits, walls clamping down on his knuckles, it makes Jean delirious.

Jean’s a glutton for every single response you make. From the various ways you utter his name. 

With a surprised gasp, “Jean!”

An annoyed, click of your tongue. “Jean…”

A hushed tone. “Jean.”

When you’re cumming on his fingers, moaning out, “Jean!”

Annoyed, worried, aroused, Jean loved every bit of it. Seeing your face screwed with pleasure despite bad timing (again your words. There’s no such thing as bad timing for him), nothing you could say or do would deter him from not fingering you. 

The cycle never ends. He slides a hand up your skirt or dips his fingers into your jeans, and his touch makes itself at home in your wet pussy, all while you try to bat him away.

Today is no different. At a party with close friends, Jean had been extra touchy-feely with you, forecasting his habit. He managed to stave off for a few hours as you mingled with others, while he gave you some space only to resurface like an overactive puppy in desperate need of a walk. 

But midway through, he snatched you up the stairs and into Connie’s bedroom, hands lifting the end of your dress. 

You smack his chest. “Jean – no! Bad!”

He snorts, dropping his hands in feigned innocence. “Baby, I’m not a dog.”

“Yes, yes, you are. We’re at a party, just cool it for tonight or else.”

He dug his hands into his pockets, but you keep a close eye on them. “What do you mean or else?” His voice drips with curiosity, wiping away his impish grin. 

“Or else, no touching for a while. No sex.” Jean’s mouth drops, but you cut him off. “I’m not messing around. You can’t just finger me with other people around.”

“Why can’t I finger you here then?” He sways on his heels, looking around to indicate how it’s empty. “I was on my best behavior. Didn’t slip my hand up your dress once tonight.”

You scoff, folding your arms. “No, but you were very touchy. Didn’t you hear Sasha tell us to get a hotel?”

He steps forward, hands still buried in his pockets. He’s being cautious, you can tell because you step back. “What’s wrong with wanting to touch my girlfriend?”

You clench your jaw to stop you from repeating the same thing. It’s a strategy that has worn you down in the past. Jean will beg, ‘but why not?’ on loop, using that charming smile of his to pepper kisses along your face, and your vestige would melt every time. 

No, you tell yourself, watching him closely, ready to grab his hands when they leave his pockets. 

He looms closer, gaze spilling onto your face. “I just want to touch you. I mean, look at you.” Light brown eyes rake you up and down. “You deserve an orgasm looking that good. Are you saying you don’t want one?”

It’s not fair how weak you are to the look he gives you. And the simple words of wanting to spoil you twists in your mind and curls down to your stomach, lighting that familiar spark. 

No. You need to stand firm. This is good for the both of you. “It’s not going to work this time.”

“But – ”

“Uh-uh.” You shake your head. “It was cute the first couple of times, but I’m drawing a line.”

He pouts, a plea in his eyes. 

You avert his gaze, unable to trust yourself, and it takes more restraint when Jean steps closer, kissing your hairline. 

“Let me make you feel good. I just want my baby to relax.” He trails his lips to your forehead, down your nose in an innocent gesture, then finds your jaw. “C’mon. Say yes.”

You bite back a mewl, conflict only making you warmer. No matter how many times he’s touched you, Jean leaves you spellbound like the first time you met. 

“Say yes…” he purrs into your lips. 

The words steep into your mind, so close to reaching your tongue. But you catch the sound of others walking by, reminded of where you are. You blink, taking stock of the bedroom. Jean, however, doesn’t care about any of that, kissing the corner of your mouth. 

“Jean…”

“Uh-huh…” His voice trails towards victory. 

“Not here.”

He pulls back, throwing his head back with a deep sigh, a look of defeat. You bristle with regret, yet stunned that Jean actually relented. 

He lowers his head, a glimmer flashing in his gaze that sends a shudder down your spine. 

It’s too late to stop his hands; they’ve freed themselves from his pockets and grab hold of your hips. You expect to be thrown on the bed, only for the floor to jostle in your sights. 

Jean holds you securely over his shoulder, hooking an arm along the back of your knees. The other is on the move, lifting your dress and pulling your underwear off. 

“Jean – ” You wriggle, though afraid you’ll fall. 

Jean’s too strong to let that happen, even more determined to keep you in his clutches. Your panties are slipped past your ankles and tossed somewhere you can’t see. He pats your bare ass, giving the side a kiss. 

Without preamble, you feel the drag of his finger along your slit, whining out. 

“You’re soaking. You see, you just need an orgasm.” Jean’s tone is shadowed with lust. 

“Jean, wait – ” you gasp, unable to negotiate, cut off with the push of two fingers. Your pussy flutters, stretching with a sting that sculpts around his knuckles. “Ah –”

“I’ll make you feel good.” Jean’s fingers pump into you deeply, the pad of his thumb reaching for your clit. 

“Ah – ah – ” You’re already so dizzy, melting like clay at Jean’s deft fingers. It’s a first to be finger-fucked like this, but he’s skillful as always, you can’t blame this man for wanting to finger you. He’s a master at it. “Jean—”

He hums, pulling back his fingers until the tips tease your entrance. You miss the fullness of his touch already and you wriggle again, clutching onto the back of his shirt. “I’ll keep going, only if you say you love being fingered by me.”

You whimper, finding a way to grind down onto his fingers in the position you’re in. It feels impossible, only reaching the brush of his fingertips. 

“Say it,” Jean says, pressing onto your clit. “Say, ‘I love it when you finger me’.”

You don’t know what it is about this time that hits different. On his lap, on your back, on your feet, Jean never fails to make you come undone on his hand. But over his shoulder, reliant on his hold, your stomach burns, your pussy dripping. 

“Say it,” Jean repeats. “I want to touch you bad. But I want you tell me that you love getting fingered by me.”

You feel one finger plunge inside, nowhere near enough. “Jean, please, finger me.”

“Gladly, but that’s not what I want to hear. C’mon, don’t be stubborn. We don’t have all night. The party’s going to end in an hour, and Connie will need his bedroom at some point. Of course, I can always tell him that we’re busy.”

You scoff but it’s strained. Doing a sweep of your surroundings, you’re dizzy, voice lost.

“C’mon. You can do it. Just tell me you like how I finger you…” 

You moan at the press of his fingertips teasing your hole. The moment drags out and you ache for reprieve. “I – I love – when you finger me – ”

“That’s my girl.” Triumph laces Jean’s murmur and he rewards you with three fingers, thrusting into you while his thumb rubs at your center. “You deserve an orgasm now.”

Your fingers claw Jean’s shirt, toes-curling as you’re struck with ecstasy. You moan out, wrinkling Jean’s shirt to stabilize you. 

The moment passes, a crashing of a wave returning to the sleepy ocean. You fall limp, boneless and satisfied. 

Jean slides you to your feet, keeping you steady. You peer up behind a lidded gaze, gratitude in your smile. 

He strokes your face, taking his soaked fingers in his mouth. “I could finger-fuck you every second of every day.”

You smile weakly, leaning into his chest. The moment is short-lived. Your back sinks into the mattress with Jean crawling over your body, prying your thighs apart. 

You give him a dumbfounded look, slow to realize what he’s already had in store. 

He cups your pussy, teasing your entrance again. He flits a look up, mischief caught in his eyes. “Give me another one and I’ll keep my hands to myself for the rest of the night.” You’re too weak to argue, already bucking your hips at the renewed pleasure Jean pumps into you. His words evade you, as you and Jean both know that keeping his hands off you is a false promise. You swallow your pride, because he's not wrong, you wouldn't dream of him keeping his hands off you.

#snk #aot #jean #jean x reader #jean kirstein x reader #jean kirschtein x reader #jean kirschstein smut #jean kirstein smut #jean kirschtein smut #attack on titan #snk x reader #aot x reader #jean kirschstein x reader #jean kirschstein #jean smut #reader insert aot #snk smut #aot smut #mochi-writings #mochimooon

[vilixpran]

when will i stop detesting writing cover letters to the point that i always leave them til the last minute before the job application is due? like i actually want this job and i meet the criteria but i still just can’t be arsed writing a cover letter

#but tbf #the last job i applied to i wrote the cover letter a few hours before while i was brain delirious with covid and i got an interview #so like #maybe it doesn't matter #i'll write a shitty draft tonight and edit it before its due tomorrow morning

[inuyashaluver]

any more niamh charles coming 🥺🥺🥺

coffee shop - niamh charles

niamh charles x reader

description: in which a pretty girl comes into your work everyday, are discounts and little notes on her cup considered flirting?

warnings: fluffyyyyy, let’s pretend covid isn’t a thing x

a/n: niamhy baby! i love her, thank you for the request, my love, enjoy!! ❤️ i really don’t know how to feel about this but it’s 2am and I’m delirious so we persevere!

⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆

when you and your girlfriend, niamh first laid eyes on each other, you both knew it was a forever kind of thing.

you both didn’t really believe in love at first sight until you both came into one another’s life, proving you and niamh to believe the statement wholeheartedly.

—

it all started in 2020 when niamh was signed to chelsea and moved to london. you at the time were studying law as well as working in a local coffee shop near your flat that niamh wandered into one day and took your breath away.

you were doing a morning shift alone, you’d often do the opening shifts for your boss by yourself because she absolutely adored you, you were also extremely good at your job and she trusted you completely.

you were cleaning the coffee machine and refilling the grounds when you heard the little bell on the door ring. “hi, excuse me?” a soft voice sounded from behind the counter. you turn to face one of the most beautiful girls you’ve ever seen, your breath hitching when you made eye contact.

the girl in front of you also gave you a surprised expression, she thought you were absolutely gorgeous. “hi” you breathe out, moving closer to the counter.

“can i get you anything?” you say shyly, the girl nods and smiles at you, “yeah! could i just get an iced latte to go please?” you nod and put the order into the system, letting out a little laugh.

she raises her eyebrows expectantly at you and you smile, “sorry, it’s just that it’s absolutely freezing and you get an iced drink” you giggle, the girl laughs along with you.

“yeah, i know it’s stupid” she laughs, you shake your head amusingly and retrieve a cup, “it’s not stupid, it’s interesting” you shrug.

the girl smiles brightly at you before you look up at her again, “name?” she looks at you with slight surprise, “sorry?” she utters, “for your coffee” you giggle, niamh exhales quickly at feeling slightly stupid before smiling at you again.

“ah, niamh” she grins, you smile brightly at her and write her name on the cup, moving to prepare the coffee as niamh stares at you in confusion.

“sorry, how much was it?” niamh questions, you wave her off with your hand, “no, it’s on the house, you’re my first customer” you wink (complete lie)

niamh immediately protests until you give her a stern expression and she stops, shaking her head at you and standing near the counter.

“chelsea supporter then?” you grin, making a espresso shot as you look at niamh, she looks down and realises that she’s in her training kit, you distracted her completely.

“something like that, yeah, i play for them” niamh smiles sheepishly, you offer her an impressed grin, “wow, niamh, might need an autograph for the wall” you say cheekily, making niamh laugh brightly.

you both small talk while you finish up making her coffee, you both have identical disappointed smiles as you pass her the coffee. “well thank you” her eyes narrow on your name tag, “(y/n), i really appreciate it” niamh grins, you nod with a smile and give her a little wave goodbye as she leaves.

your eyes follow her every move as she leaves the shop, sighing when she leaves out the door.

niamh takes a sip of her coffee and her eyes widen comically, she swears it’s the best coffee she’s had in her life, she looks down at the cup and sees that you’ve written a little note on the cup.

‘famous niamh! have a good day! :)’ she smiles down at the cup, the smile carrying into training and gaining some curious gazes as to why she was treasuring a cup of ice coffee.

you both thought about each other the whole day, hoping you’d cross paths again - unaware niamh made a promise to herself that she’d go to the coffee shop every morning and you made an effort to take every morning shift possible.

—

the next day, the morning shift was just locals in the cafe, you’d served everyone so you always used the down time at work to study, much to the encouragement of your boss. your textbooks would be sprawled out on the side of the counter to go back to whenever you had the chance.

you were currently highlighting some important passages in your law textbook when you hear the familiar bell of the door, looking up to see a smiling niamh waving to you.

she made you so nervous and she didn’t even know it. in reality, niamh had been hyping herself up for five minutes to even enter the coffee shop.

“niamh!” you say brightly, placing down the highlighter and standing behind the calendar. “busy?” she grins, pointing at the textbook next to you, you glance at it quickly and sigh, “yes, it’s kicking my ass” you laugh, she laughs sympathetically,

“what are you studying?” niamh questions, “law” you exhale, niamh gives you an impressed expression, both of you getting deja vu from the previous day.

“maybe i’m the one who needs your autograph” niamh quips, making you both giggle with each other, “hm maybe if you’re lucky” you grin, taking niamh’s order again. she forces you to let her pay and you give her a large discount, throwing in a little cookie with a cheeky grin.

she groans when she sees the card machine, clearly way less than the actual total, she narrows her eyes at you and you shrug, “pretty girl discount” niamh tenses at your words and her cheeks are slightly blushed. your own cheeks are pink as you make her coffee, changing the subject and small talking with her again.

you both had so much in common it was honestly crazy, everytime the one of you mentioned something, the other would gasp excitedly and talk about it passionately.

the grins and giggles said everything and more, you both really liked each other. when niamh leaves, she looks down at her cup again, laughing brightly at the note you’ve left on her cup.

‘to my dearest fan, niamh, here’s my autograph, don’t sell it! have a lovely day xx’ you left a little signature under it and niamh cheeks hurt from the smile adorning her features. the little ‘xx’ you left had her heart beating rapidly and her cheeks pink, she couldn’t wait to come back the next day.

—

you glanced at the clock nervously while you waited for niamh the next day, it was five minutes later than she usually comes in the morning. you huff while flipping through your notes and you swear you got whiplash when you heard the bell ring, looking up in relief to see niamh and her bright smile. “you’re late” you tease, she slaked her head and makes her way over to you.

“hello, (y/n)” she sings out, you smile happily at her and grab a cup in your hand. “hi, niamh” you mock her tone, “the usual?” you question, she nods enthusiastically and begins to rave over you,

“no joke, you make the best coffee ever and i’m not even exaggerating” you smile shyly at her, attempting to wave it off but she won’t relent.

“why do you think i keep coming back?” niamh jokes, you roll your eyes with a laugh, “for me?” you cock your head to the side with a teasing smile and niamh feels her heart clench, you were so cute.

“well yeah but also for your coffee” she scoffs, your cheeks burn and you make yourself busy with her coffee, chatting excitedly with each other about anything and everything. again, giving a hefty discount on her coffee making her scowl at you when she taps her card.

when you hand her the coffee, she’s about to do her regular goodbye but she stops herself suddenly. “could i get your number?” she asks nervously, you smile brightly and nod, taking out your phone and exchanging numbers with each other.

she looks at her coffee cup again when she exits with a grin, ‘niamhy! have a lovely lovely day, enjoy your pretty girl coffee with your pretty girl discount xx’ niamh snaps a selfie of her with the coffee and sends it to you, starting an endless texting cycle between the two of you.

you would text for hours and hours, sending each other random photos throughout your days. you both loved it.

—

after about two weeks of you and niamh chatting and seeing each other everyday, you decide to take the first move this time and write something a little different on her cup this time.

before she leaves, you ask her to read the cup in front of you while you hand it to her. she grins at you brightly, ‘niamhy! can we go on a date please? xx p.s, have a lovely day!’ she looks up at you bashfully and nods, you smile and move around the counter to give her a hug.

you and niamh have a long embrace of you two just hugging, feeling so comforting and familiar as you held each other.

niamh kisses your cheek quickly before she leaves and you feel like your legs are going to give out from under you. niamh bolts out of the shop and lets out a silent scream in her car while she thinks about the interaction.

—

you went on your date and began dating shortly after about 4 dates. and after about a year, you and niamh moved in with each other and it was the best thing to happen to the both of you.

you genuinely were infatuated with each other, willing to do anything for one another without a second thought.

—

you’ve now been dating for 3 years and it was just full of genuine love. you were now niamh’s personal barista, the coffee shop job left behind as you were now practising as a lawyer, getting a job at a big company that had niamh bragging and boasting about every second she got.

she had a match and you were able to come, clad in your ‘charles’ jersey with a bright grin and a coffee in hand as you watch. chelsea wins and niamh immediately makes her way over to you, you smile as she approaches and you open your arms to her with a bright grin.

“hello, beautiful” you grin, your arms wrapping around her shoulders as hers held your waist. “hi, baby” she says adoringly, kissing your cheek repeatedly before pulling away to face you.

you hold the coffee in front of her and she gasps in excitement, pulling you into a quick kiss before taking the cup from you.

“my pretty girl and her amazing coffee, who cares about the win” she mocks, you laugh at her and kiss her cheek sweetly. “meet me at the back?” she asks softly, you nod and wave her off, making your way to your shared car.

niamh watches you leave before she looks down at the cup, a heart shaped sticky note taped on the reusable cup, ‘niamhy baby! congrats on the win, my love, you’re amazing and i love you x’

she grins brightly and takes off the note, hanging it up in her cubby to give her motivation. she gives you a big kiss when she makes it to the car, both of you looking at each other full of affection before she drives off.

⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆

liked by _jessflem and 44,232 others

niamhcharles17: hot lawyers make the best coffee

view all comments

yourname: i knew you only wanted me for the coffee

↳ niamhcharles17: no, baby! it’s just a bonus

↳ yourname: hm sureeeeee

↳ niamhcharles17: no it’s true!

↳ niamhcharles17: don’t forget you made the first move, babe

↳ yourname: my notes are just irresistible

↳ niamhcharles17: indeed

#woso #woso community #woso fanfics #woso x reader #woso one shot #woso imagine #niamh charles #niamh charles x reader

[prongslvl]

SLEEPYHEAD - marauders trio

PAIRING marauders trio x fem!reader

SUMMARY scenarios of james, remus, and sirius seeing you asleep in interesting places.

a/n: this was such a challenge to write. i did lots of research (fanfic reading lmao) to do the boys' characterization justice. the requester seemed to like sirius so i made his longer and have a bit more plot behind it. happy reading!

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

JAMES + COUCH

it was during james' quidditch practice that he realized you were nowhere to be seen. usually he'd see you chatting with the others as you waited for him, but today you weren't.

the gryffindor team got home pretty late after, resulting in little time for the curly-haired boy to look for you. he supposed you were probably loitering around with the new book you bought up your nose, walking around to immerse yourself, as you always explain to him. 

james' planned to clean himself up before looking for you, but as he enters the gryffindor common room, he sees you laying on the couches near the fireplace. he perks up at the sight of his m.i.a girlfriend, happy to see you there. placing the broom stick down and removing his dirtied gloves, james creeped up behind you.

he was faced with your sleeping one, book in hand, while your head uncomfortably rested on the arm rest. he couldn't help but giggle at how cute you are. it wasn't the first time he saw you knocked out cold during your reading sessions, it became a usual scene for james.

with one knee on the ground, he bends his head down to see you up close.

"replaced me with a book once again, haven't you?" he says it lightheartedly, chuckling to himself when you react to his voice by scrunching your nose. 

just like he always does; james grabs the book from your hand and puts it on a table where you can find it again in the morning before he scoops you up. your arms automatically hug the boy's neck, nuzzling your face against his shoulders. 

he practically melts at your action, trying his best not to get weak in the knees as he walks upstairs to his room. as much as he wants you to wake up in your own bed, it wouldn't be the best idea to enter the girl's dormitory at such late hours. he learned his lesson the hard way, with sirius calling him a 'perv' every chance he gets. 

"oh, the things i do for you." he mumbles, caressing your cheeks. he places you on the mattress and watches how you hug the pillows that surround you. 

he sat on the edge of the bed, though he tried his best not to make any noise, your eyes began to slowly open, or at least one of them.

"james? when did you arrive?" he can tell you were fighting a yawn as you talked.

"about ten minutes ago. go back to sleep, love. you still owe me all your attention tomorrow for leaving me alone during practice." he kisses the top of your forehead, making your delirious self giggle. 

you mumbled an "okay" before sleeping once more. james didn't bother showing that night, his sleepiness and overall desire to be next to you came over him.

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

REMUS + FLOOR

"do you need leave, moony? i'm sure she's just in the library— y'know, somewhere. we can all just meet at the great hall!" sirius pleads, dragging the hem of remus' sweater. 

"very reassuring, pads. just go with james, we'll meet you there." he flicks the black haired boy's hand away from him before finally waving goodbye. remus could hear sirius' grumble as he walked away. 

ever since he said he'd pick you up between classes, remus hasn't been available to hang out longer with the rest of his friends, resulting in sirius' little tantrums whenever he leaves. he finds it quite overdramatic since the both of you do spend your time with the rest. 

remus arrived at your classroom and waited for you to come out. as he leans on the wall besides the door, he feels a hand tap his shoulders. what he expected to be you was another gryffindor; if he remembered correctly, she was the friend you made during charms.

"can i help you?" he asked, raising his eyebrows. 

"you're here for her, right?" the mention of your name made him curious. "she didn't attend today. i last saw her in the library." remus saw her eyes look around suspiciously, then lean closer to his ears. "specifically the restricted section." 

a light chuckle came from his mouth at the information. he expected no less; you did have a concerning fondness for anything not allowed, perhaps the very reason why you became such a good friend of the marauders and his girlfriend, of course. 

remus thanks the student, bidding her a goodbye before leaving. 

he was able to easily find you asleep on the floor after going through a secret tunnel he and james found about a month ago. there were books surrounding you, remus guessed was an attempt to hide yourself. he recognized the book in your hands; it was the same one he recently finished. 

placing a small piece of parchment paper on the page you were currently on, remus placed the book inside your bag, which was sprawled along with you on the floor. he takes your bag first, swinging it on his shoulder before carrying his sleepy girlfriend. 

"wake up, mon coeur." he whispers in your ear, both for intimacy and for caution in case the librarian sees them. remus sees your eyes slowly open, an enamored smile on his face as you wake up. "as much as i love carrying you around, pads is probably on his last leg looking for us."

"i'm sorry, rem." you yawned, "i wanted to read the book you told me; thought it would be a good conversation starter." you said in a sleepy confession, still half awake, how comfortable you are in his arms. 

he shook his head in slight disbelief, chuckling to himself as he left a peck on your cheeks. "there's always a conversation starter with you. don't worry about finishing it, i'll read it for you later." 

remus still carried you out of the library, but once you were able to stand on your own two feet, remus held your hands as both of you walked down to the great hall.

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

SIRIUS + WINDOW

it was a peaceful afternoon with the sun fully out; students were out in the gardens enjoying the rays of sunlight after classes.

at the other side of the garden were the marauders and the rest of the quidditch. a quidditch match was just around the corner, so most members of the team spent their breaks practicing, including sirius and the others accompanying james.

there were times the captain would let the marauders play for fun, just like right now. sirius held a broom stick under him, tossing the quaffle up and down in his hands as his best friend, james, taunted him in the sky. 

"c'mon, pads! you scared?" 

"it takes a lot more than that to make me scared of you, prongs. watch your glasses." sirius said with a smirk, using all his strength to toss the ball at james. the golden snitch was released as soon as the other players went darting for both james and the quaffles, loud chortles erupted in the sky. 

sirius flew towards one of the rings as soon as he was able to catch a quaffle, zooming past the other players trying to snatch the ball. before he could score, his eyes glanced at the window of professor mcgonagall's office, seeing a familiar face. he realized it was you sitting by the glass, distracting him from the game. 

"sirius, watch out!" before he could remove his eyes from you, he was hit with a bludger, making him lose his balance on the broom. 

luckily, james was able to catch him by the collar, inches away from the ground. 

"where's your head at, pads!? you stood there like a statue." remus, who only watched from a distance, ran towards the long haired boy. sirius jumps to the ground on his two feet, his hands held by remus. 

"i didn't mean to!" he defended himself, his eyes set on the professor's tower. "i just got— a little distracted or something; it doesn't matter!" remus followed his friend's gaze in curiosity. despite the distance, he could tell sirius was staring at the person behind a window. 

"don't tell me..." the mention of your name made the black haired boy's head turn toward remus, who had a smirk on his face. 

"absolutely not. yes, i did see her, but i wouldn't let myself be hit because of her." his voice wanes, and his mind immediately corrects him. yes, he'll definitely let himself get beat up just for you, and there's no denying that. sirius sighs, walking towards the hogwarts' building.

he hears james calling for him. "i'll be back! just gotta check on something." he informed his friend before dashing inside. 

the halls were busy with students, either leaving or entering their class. some of them greeted sirius, giving them a small smile, but he was too focused on making his way to the professor's office. he didn't know why he was in such in a rush to see you. he couldn't even think of an excuse to give once he arrived. 

lately, you've been busy with studying for owls, as everyone was too, so you were no where to be found when sirius looked for you. he knew you'd be in the library, but he was too much of a coward to approach in such a crowded place where everyone would see how awkward he'd be conversing with you. 

lily, the double agent, as james likes to call her, is friends with you and the marauders. she'll sometimes talk about you when sirius not-so-subtly changes the topic to you, which opens the topic of your whereabouts. 

"she's usually at the library, our dorm, and..." professor mcgonagall's office was a few stairs away by now, given how fast-paced the boy was walking. 

as soon as he reaches the doors, the said teacher opens the door with several papers in hands. 

"mr. black, what can i help you with?" professor mcgonagall's eyed sirius, who immediately knew he was just out in the sun with how disheveled he looked. 

"i was looking for a friend of mine. lily told me she'd be here." 

he said her name and house, making mcgonagall look back, revealing to sirius that his friend was indeed inside the office. you sat with your back facing towards the door, a book laying on your lap, while your head leaned on the glass. 

"she fell asleep. do wake her up; i promised to, but i have a meeting to attend." sirius nods with a smile, "no funny business, mr. black." mcgonagall points her wand at the boy. 

he smirks, "yes, professor mcgonagall." amused at her words. she couldn't blame her. really, it was a perfect chance to set up a prank— having the office of a teacher to themselves was any troublemaker's wet dream. but he brushed the thought aside, eyes fixated on you as he entered the room. 

sirius carefully walks towards you, not wanting to startle you with his presence. once he got a bit closer, with your face visible to him, he confirmed that you were really asleep. you looked so peaceful that it made him feel guilty for waking you up. 

he can't say you and him were close friends— actually, not even friends. you mostly talked to him during classes when you needed help or he needed help but didn't want to ask for it. he adores how kind you are and how naturally charming and funny you are, just by your witty response to his teasing. 

"i can't believe i'm seated next to a little nerd." he'd say, with you responding back almost immediately, "thanks to that nerd, you actually aced a pop quiz." as if it were the most natural thing to you. sirius also admires your passion for studying; he thinks it's probably his and his friend's nonexistent studying habits. the only thing sirius doesn't like about you is how carelessly you take care of your body. 

he'd be worried sick the whole day when lily would mention you didn't eat or sleep because of homework and tests. you were partially the reason why he trashed one of your professor's class notes, using a spell to translate it into a language he didn't understand, making the test everyone dreaded delayed for a week. 

remus says he finally developed a crush, the type where he didn't only like you because he felt like it was a challenge. james says he's severely whipped for you and how he'd kiss the ground you walk on. not including james' overexaggeration, he didn't deny any of their words. 

sirius was concerningly and overwhelmingly enamored by you, it makes him question if this was even natural. 

he recognized the potion book you were studying. he had the same copy in his little library inside the dorms. he reaches for the book from your lap, holding it. despite sirius' gut telling him not to wake you up so you'd have more sleep, professor mcgonagall would have his head if he didn't. 

"hey, love." the nickname rolled off his tongue like nothing. you hummed at the sound of his voice.

he gently taps your cheeks, making you stir in your half-asleep state before fully opening your eyes. the sight of him surprised you, "black? what are you doing here?" 

he chuckles at your hoarse voice. "long story short, the professor wanted me to wake you up before your next class starts." the mention of class somehow woke you up, your hands searching for the hard object you left on your lap. sirius notices and shows you the book in his hands. 

"you're studying for potions? didn't we just have a text last week?" he asked, giving you back your possession. 

"no, that was two weeks ago. we have a test later—" you stop yourself from speaking, looking at the long haired boy with furrowed eyebrows, and say, "don't tell me you didn't study?" 

this caught sirius off guard, laughing awkwardly at himself and shaking his head. "it seems i'm a bit fucked here, darling. i didn't study an inch." he was too busy recalling the test from two weeks ago to notice the blush on your face at the nickname. 

you went down the window ledge, hugging the book to your chest. "then let's hope professor slughorn will let you sit next to me."

"are you saying you'll let me cheat off of you?" sirius sneakily wraps his arms around your shoulders as he asks. you coughed into your hand before responding, stuttering with your words. "ye-yes. i mean, you did help me with that project in d.a.d.a so it's the least i can do for you." 

he walks out of the office with you in his arms, sirius hoped you weren't too close to hear how hard his chest was beating at the contact. "i don't know... that project was almost half our grades in d.a.d.a." he looks in your direction with a smirk on his face. you were too quick to catch what he was trying to say. 

"what do you want, sirius black?" you asked in faux annoyance, making the boy laugh. 

it was an opportunity for him and he doesn't have any plans to let this go. "go with me to hogsmeade, heard they recently opened a coffee house inspired by the muggle world." his words made you stop. 

your silence alarmed him, "well— only if you want to! it's not like i'm—" 

"i'll go." you finally answered, your voice meak. this took sirius by surprise: "i've been craving to drink something else other than butterbear anyway." 

sirius grinned, holding you even closer to him. "let's drink to our hearts content, shall we?" you nodded with a smile, looking up at him.

"hey, hey, leave some room for merlin in there!" james shouts from across the hallway, making remus and peter beside him cackle.

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

#remus lupin x reader #marauders x reader #james potter x reader #james potter #james potter fanfiction #james potter fluff #marauders fanfiction #james potter imagine #marauders imagine #marauders #sirius x reader #siriusposting #sirius black #sirius black imagine #remus lupin #remus x reader #remus lupin fanfiction #remus lupin imagine #sirius and james #ben barnes #aaron taylor johnson #andrew garfield

[daisyvisions]

[12:43AM] All to Myself - (jc.b)

Warnings: Smut (18+, minors DNI), newlywed!Jacob, fem!reader, unprotected sex, breeding, creampies, mentions of multiple orgasms (fingering and oral), drunk sex (if you squint), slight dry humping, a lil manhandling, some good ol’ cock rubbing, lots of kisses, “sweetheart” used. Word Count: 0.8K

A/N: Happiest birthday to the lovely @jasminexox5, don’t think I didn’t forget about writing a bday fic for you hehe thank you for our friendship and hope you had a good day! This one’s short this time around but hope you still like it 🥺 been having trouble writing again but this is a good start I think! Proofread once, also tagging @deoboyznet

(p.s. this is a short fic based on a blurb mentioned in this Jacob fic. iykyk 😘)

Thinking about newlywed!Jacob, who stumbles into your hotel suite while attempting to carry you with all his might and whatever’s left of his rational brain. Both of you had been exhausted from all the festivities your wedding day had to offer.

Everything had gone beyond perfect, but as much as he wanted the celebration to never end Jacob could not wait to have you alone all to himself.

Sure you’ve had your fair share of intimate moments together as you were dating, but to finally be able to call you his and to fully love you the way he wanted to… That’s all he could ever think of as soon as he woke up this morning.

He still couldn’t believe that he was finally married to you. Truth be told, he had been wanting to marry you since the day he laid his eyes on you. You were already the prettiest girl in the room, but the moment he truly got to know you, that’s when he knew you were it for him.

You both giggle nonstop from all the champagne you drank running through your system, barely making it to your suite without nearly falling on each other. Both your minds were drifting into a state where you could only think of nothing but your inner desires for one another as you hurried your way back to the suite.

As soon as Jacob sets you down and closes the door he has your whole body instantly pinned against the hard surface. His lips pressing onto the column of your throat, kissing every space he could like it was his last.

Jacob’s kisses were messy, hot, sweet and dirty at the same time and it was making you incredibly delirious. His hands were everywhere trying to grab all the softest parts of your body while your fingers ran through his hair, grinding himself on your thigh as you elicit the softest but incredibly erotic moans known to man.

“Finally get to call you mine.” Jacob whispers as his hands snake behind you to unzip your dress, kissing your shoulder as the straps start to fall.

As soon as Jacob saw you wearing this gorgeous dress at the reception, he had to pull all his willpower just to keep it together. You were so beautiful in your wedding dress, a literal goddess walking down the aisle. But this? He felt himself throb beneath his slacks. He couldn’t wait to get you out of this dress and have his way with you as soon as you were finally alone together.

A trail of clothes were starting to form from the front door to the king sized bed, both of you eager to strip down and just bask in each other’s love. Jacob was like a mad man, you’ve never seen him this feral over you before. And it was getting you wetter by the second.

Jacob doesn’t waste any moment with you under him. Kissing every inch of your skin from top to bottom, praising you like it was something he was born to do, making you chant his name as he touched you like he never had before. Leaving you absolutely breathless after god knows how many orgasms he’s given you tonight from his mouth and fingers alone.

You feel his manhood slipping in and out between your folds as he kisses you passionately, mumbling incoherent words against your lips as his hands gently knead your breasts.

“What did you say?” You pant as he kisses that spot you love below your ear.

“Wanna put a baby in you so bad…” he slurs.

“Fuck Jacob… Please” You grab his hair tight, making him groan as you feel his cock twitch between your folds. Your moans gradually increasing as you feel the tip nudge your sensitive bud over and over again.

“Yeah? Want me to fill you up sweetheart? Fill you up so good ‘til your belly swells up? Hm?” His hot mouth presses against your ear as his fingers pinch your nipples in the process.

The thought of him breeding you and getting you pregnant does nothing but short circuit your brain, leaving any coherent words fading at the back of your mind, making you elicit a very desperate “uh-huh” instead.

You squeal as you suddenly feel him manhandle you. Pulling your legs over his shoulders, hooking his arms under your knees to lock you into position, and instantly folding you into a mating press as his mushroom head eagerly inserts inside your wet entrance. You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to you as you both moan from his length slowly fill your entire hole all the way to the base of his cock.

He looks into your eyes lustfully, pulling his length out and slamming it back into you with one thrust, “Good, because I’m gonna keep fucking my cum into you no matter how long it takes.”

And boy did he keep his promise…

#deoboyznet #jacob bae #jacob bae smut #tbz smut #tbz fics #tbz scenarios #tbz hard hours #the boyz drabbles #the boyz hard hours #the boyz scenarios #the boyz fic #the boyz smut #kpop smut #Jacob bae scenarios #the boyz fanfic

[jinnify]

ribs — jake sim

pairing: jake x y/n genre: fluff, comfort warnings: none word count: five hundred eighty-one now playing: get up by newjeans extended note at the bottom.

you lightly pressed your hands to his chest, feelings the thumping of his heart rate speed up when you looked him in the eyes. golden embers flickered about in his brown irises as the sunset glimmered on the horizon, its warm hue reflecting in his eyes. a warm smile spread across his lips as he looked down at your face, watching for any tiny micro-expressions he could catch. you bit down a smile the best you could, knowing that jake was doing exactly what you were. you slowly blinked your eyes, as if you were a cat trying to tell its owner that you loved them, to signal to him to close his eyes without having to open your mouth. 

you continued to carefully watch him stubbornly shake his head no; his wavy hair flopping around his head like puppy ears. at this point, your cheeks had begun to hurt from how hard you had been smiling at jake over how cute he was. your hands slid around his torso, locking him in your embrace. you blinked slowly again; jake followed along this time.

you brought your hands up to his cheeks as you awkwardly slid your nose into his, trying to fit your face against his. you wanted to be as close as humanly possible. the position should've felt uncomfortable, with you holding yourself up above him, but you couldn't have felt more comfortable on a plush bed than with him at this moment. you loved him. you loved him so much, it hurt. it hurt you physically to not be a part of him. you wanted to be inside him, in the little spaces between his ribs, where he could carry you absolutely everywhere. where you could be with him forever until you both died of old age. 

you wanted to breathe him. you wanted his scent lingering on your olfactory receptors until the end of your existence. your fingers carefully slipped themselves into his hair, feeling its silky texture on your palm. you lightly pulled, eliciting a soft groan from him. you felt his brow furrow against your face before he moved you both to plant a kiss on your lips. dozens of fireworks went off in your chest, making you feel as if you were vibrating all over.

he ignited something so wonderfully primal in you. you had no idea how to react other than by having embraced him in the tightest hug you had ever given a person in your life, accompanied by a multitude of sweet kisses to his lips that left traces of your soft pink lipstick all over his mouth. 

you picked up jake’s hands from off your hips, placing even more kisses on his knuckles eliciting a beautiful sound from his chest, his laugh. you could, both, listen to his laugh for an eternity and fall into a blissful sleep listening to jake laugh. his adorably high-pitched laugh that sounded like an angel’s choir to your ears. you completely adored watching jake’s face scrunch up in amusement. happiness looked best adorning his features.

his skin shined beautifully in the golden hour, the sun rays bouncing off his honey skin, glowing around him like a halo. you could stare at jake, and drink in each of his features until your vision grew blurry.

“have i ever told you i love you?” you smiled, not taking your eyes off of jake’s eyes.

“only every other hour,” jake teased, pulling you in for a sweet kiss.

EXTENDED NOTE. bonjourrrr ~ i wrote this at four in the morning while i was sleep deprived and nearly delirious bc jake is the loml😋 i didn't even try to proofread this bc i do nawt have the mental capacity to do that so please don't judge my writing too hard .. anyway this was just a lil something for my engenes meanwhile i work on m:ot !🫶🏼

#enhypen #enhypen fluff #enhypen comfort #enhypen x reader #enhypen scenarios #enhypen imagines #jake fluff #jake comfort #jake x reader #jake scenarios #jake imagines #📁 enhypen: jake

[roxygen22]

Sick Timothee with fem reader as caretaker plz ❤️

Thanks to You

Summary: Fem!reader takes care of feverish Laurie

A/N: Decided to write using Timothee's Laurie as the main character because the time period makes fevers much more scary.

Laure's restless stirring awakened you. You blinked, unable to focus since it was still dark out. You reached your hand out to place gentle, comforting pressure on his arm, as you often did if he was suffering a nightmare, but instantly drew it back in shock. He was putting off more heat than your fireplace.

You grabbed the oil lamp on your nightstand and raised the flame. There was a sheen of sweat blanketing his forehead and chest, though he was shivering like he had been out in the snow. "Fever," you breathed out worriedly.

You jumped out of bed and quickly set to work gathering supplies. You immersed a cloth in water and wrung it out to place on his forehead. You rubbed the herb poultice Mrs. March had shown you how to make onto the soles of his feet and covered them with socks. He shifted his head side to side, mumbling your name.

"[Y/N], [Y/N]," he muttered weakly.

You ran your fingers through his damp curls. "I'm here, my love. I'm here."

"[Y/N]?" Laurie's glazed eyes opened, but they never focused on you.

He's delirious, you thought to yourself. You looked out the window, countenance falling as you realized the blizzard meant you could not send for help. The whole town was snowed in. "You have to get better, Laurie," you stated as you cradled your slight baby bump with your free hand.

He became slightly more alert as the dawn arrived. You took the opportunity to get him to drink some water. He was shaking so much from the throes of fever that he could not hold the cup without spilling. You sat beside him to support his head and hold the cup to his lips. You were grateful to see that at least some water made it into his mouth. Exhausted, he flopped his head back onto the pillow and looked up at you.

"Y-you should k-keep your distance. You d-don't n-need to get sick, too," Laurie said through chattering teeth.

"Nonsense. Who else is going to take care of you, hmm?" You half-smiled, not quite enough to reach your eyes. You wet the cloth again and gently wiped his neck, chest, and arms. "Are you hungry?" you asked when you finished, but there was no response. He had already fallen asleep again. You surveyed the dark purple circles under his eyes and the pallor of his skin.

You rose from your perch by Laurie's side to start some soup for when he woke again. He came to about an hour later. You helped him sit up against the headboard so he could eat. He scowled when you attempted to spoon feed him. "Come on, now. You need to eat something to keep your strength, and I'm sure you don't want to spill hot soup in your lap," you chided. He rolled his eyes and acquiesced. You chuckled. At least he was feeling good enough to give you an attitude.

The food did him some good, because soon he wanted to get up and move around. You helped him to the front room to his armchair. While he read by the fire, you changed the damp sheets. It wasn't long before he was ready to lay down again. The two of you repeated this cycle throughout the day.

When night came once more, the fever ravaged again. You covered him with every blanket in the house and practically laid on top of him to warm him up. The shaking eventually relented, giving both of you a reprieve. You fell asleep sitting next to the bed, holding his hand while your head rested on your arm.

You woke to the feeling of a hand playing with your hair. You groggily raised your head and were greeted by Laurie's smile. "Good morning, my dove."

You smiled at the nickname and placed a kiss on his forehead. "Your fever broke," you said in relief. Tears welled up in the corners of your eyes. "I was so worried."

"I'm alright, thanks to you."

<><><><><>

Masterlist

Tag List:

@croatianprincess

@bluizh

@jindongdongie

@groovyqueer

#timothée chalamet #timothee chalamet #timothee chalamet x reader #timothée chalamet x reader #laurie laurence #theodore laurence #little women 2019 #timothée x you #timothee x you #sick fic #hurt/comfort #timothée x reader #timothee x reader #timothee chalamet fanfiction #timothee chalamet x you #reader insert #female reader #pregnant reader

[darling-i-read-it]

Whispers

Dalton Lambert x fem!reader

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: insidious 5 spoilers, literally i think tahts it 

Author’s Note: In theory this is a part 2 to blue paint but honestly could be written by itself if you just squint lol. Everyone wanted me to write more for dalton and i was at WORK people but i am here to provide a plotless fluff. An old classic style of mine 🫡Also this fic could literally be called ‘maya googles whispered synonyms’ 

Everyone that asked to be tagged <3 : @geeksareunique, @chaoticxbee, @snixx2088, @ellaneyt, @bespinnn, 

Summary: The night you and Dalton just kind of let your relationship silently grow to avoid the horror of his situation. 

I don’t own these characters. They belong to author/director/creator

(not my gif)

You could feel sleep starting to overtake you. It was in your eyes, the drooping of your lids as you sat against the twin bed. Dalton was sitting on the ground as well, across from you. You narrowed your gaze at him, pursing your lips. You both had class in the morning. He still had blue paint stained on his face. You had leaned him over the sink and scrubbed to no avail. Finally you had both given up, conceding to his embarrassment in the morning. 

The sticky heat of the day had given way for the night chills. You could feel the difference in the cracked window. The breeze had started to get to you so you threw a blanket over your shoulders. 

Dalton, not wanting to fall asleep, sat across from you with a hoodie on. 

“Uno.” 

“No way,” you muttered. You looked at the cards in front of you, a large stack turned upwards and a yellow 7 card on top. “You just had like 15 cards. Take off your hoodie.”

“No!” Dalton exclaimed, laughing a bit. 

“You’re cheating. There’s no way I missed that. I’m literally the only other person here,” you offered. He shook his head. The clock was ticking away past midnight. 

“It’s late, you’re just starting to get delirious.” You shook your head, tossing your stack of cards down beside you. Usually you would never let a game go, especially one that was decently close. But you weren’t sure if you were even going to wake up to your alarm in the morning, let alone go to class. 

“Am not.” 

“I told you to go to bed hours ago.”

“Didn’t want you to sleepwalk on me,” you muttered. 

“Astral project.” 

“Whatever.” You looked up at the window. You could see the moon outside tonight in the clear sky. It had been a while since you saw the nighttime in a peaceful way. You were so used to being passed out by the time any kind of sereneness came along, or at a party trying not to pass out. It had been too long since it was just you and the night sky. And Dalton. 

Your phones were laying on the bedside table, out of the way and silent. You told Dalton to call his mom but he refused. He said he could do it on his own. He was probably just overreacting, he promised you. Overreacting didn’t make someone stay up late before an 8:30 class but you decided not to mention that. 

“I think I’m out D,” you muttered through a yawn. He nodded. He still looked wide awake, sans the bags under his eyes. 

“I wish we had a TV in here.” 

“Then we could watch Nightmare on Elm Street,” you joked. He half smiled, one of his cute little smirks. When you came to college you never thought you would admire these quieter nights the most. 

“Yeah.” You stretched, trying to shake the sleep out of your eyes. 

“I think I’m still gonna try to go to class tomorrow.”

“You know I don’t have a choice.” You nodded once and stood up, stretching. You felt your body expand as a satisfying calmness came over your body. Dalton grabbed the uno cards at your feet and started to put them in the box. “My last card was red by the way. You could’ve won it.” 

“Rematch tomorrow,” you suggested. You put your blanket over the empty bed. It looked like it hadn’t been slept in. There was no indent of a human having been there, no one having a good night's sleep. Though it didn’t look exactly comforting, it also didn’t look unappealing to your tired mind. Dalton had given you one of his pillows. You plugged in your phone beside you and glanced over at Dalton’s side of the room. You had looked at his drawings before but never studied them. 

Things seemed clearer at night. 

There was a picture of his mom at the piano above his pillow. He was moving around, shuffling, getting ready for bed and doing the last things he needed to. His head obscured your view. 

“She’s beautiful,” you whispered. “Your mom.” He looked at his sketch like he had forgotten it was there. 

“Thanks,” he muttered. His eyes lingered for a moment. You wanted to ask if he missed her but you didn’t. Putting him in that sort of emotional position would’ve been too much for so late. “She writes music. I remember when I was a kid she would sit at the piano when she had a moment to herself. My dad was always working so I guess I thought it was her job.” He shrugged. His eyes moved away.

“She sounds like a nice lady.” 

“She is. She deserves better than that guy,” he grumbled. He sat down on his bed. You were still sitting on yours. You hadn’t climbed under the covers, even though the cold was nipping at your arms. Chris’s words lingered in your brain for a bit, the prospect of staying in the same twin bed. You shook it off and went to grab the edge of the blanket. 

Dalton’s eyes stayed on you. He didn’t want to go to bed yet. 

“Do you mind the night light?” he asked, voice laced with exhaustion and a little embarrassment. 

“Nope. I like a little mood lighting.” You climbed under the covers. Once your head hit in the pillow it was like relief flooded through your bones. You reached up and turned off the lamp beside the bed. You could still see the outline of Dalton. His face, his hair. “I like your hair when it’s down,” you whispered. Your voice was gentle, slightly fueled by the lack of sleep. You could see him turn to look at you as he was getting under the covers. You nuzzled your head into the pillow. 

“Thank you,” he muttered, awkwardly. You smiled. You liked it when he squirmed a little bit. 

“I set an alarm.” 

“Okay.” There was a silence. “Goodnight.” 

“Goodnight Dalton,” you whispered. Your name hung on his lips but he didn’t say it out loud. Instead he just watched as your eyes shut into an even calmness. The contours of your face were illuminated by his night light.

He rested his cheek against the pillow. 

He admitted to being potentially dangerous to you and you stayed. He felt safer with you. Like he wasn’t in this alone. 

You fell asleep in 15 minutes. He could tell because your face was completely relaxed. There was no tenseness in your features, no worries about anything except getting rest. When he was positive you had drifted off he sat up, grabbing his sketchbook off the center table. 

He had drawn nothing but dark memories lately. A red door with blood haunted him. A face he didn’t recognize but one that he knew, watched him sleep. After the darkness flooding his brain he was happy to think of his mom. He was happy to remember her when she was tranquil. He liked the sketches that were less cursed. 

He started to sketch you. 

His eyes adjusted to the darkness easily. Maybe if he was super tired the next night then he wouldn't be able to dream or astral project. Just sleep. He wouldn’t mind spending tonight sketching you with observing eyes. He drew your hair as it fell in front of your face. The way your fingers gripped the blanket. Your eyes, fluttering with dreams. He wondered what you were dreaming of. He wondered if you ever dreamt of him. 

Just the thought brought a redness to his cheeks. 

He grabbed his airpod to put on some music. 

The room was so still. 

Your blanket touching the ground. The wind from the cracked window. Your even breathing, mixing with his, the only living sounds in the space. His dried paint on the table. The light from the hallway seeping in under the door. His unpacked bag at the foot of your bed. 

Your bed. That wasn’t your bed. That was an empty bed, one that would be filled by anybody. 

He sketched your nose. 

That could be your bed. He had nothing against that. A sleepover every night, a buddy to help protect him from the nightmares. He thought of his parents. His brother. His little sister. He was safe. 

He turned the focus onto your closed eyes. He was listening to some indie rock or something, whatever he had playing from earlier. He wondered what kind of music you listened to. 

You moved. You hummed under your breath, eyes fluttering open. It hadn’t been that long since you fell asleep, maybe only an hour. It was two in the morning.

You forced your eyes open. Dalton was still awake, sitting against the wall. 

“Still can’t sleep?” you whispered. The sleep remained in your eyes. 

“Not sure where I’ll float too.” You nodded. You slowly sat up, keeping your blanket around your shoulder. “What’re you doing?” he whispered. Speaking any louder would break the muffled moment. 

You shuffled over to his side of the room. He looked up at you, shielding his sketchbook. You barely noticed it. You stood at the side of his bed. There was a beat where neither of you moved. You nodded towards the bed. 

“Lay down.” He squinted, unsure of what your intentions were. He put the sketchbook on the side of the bed, onto the floor. He had it facing the ground so you wouldn’t see your face. He couldn’t let you know how he perceived you quite yet. 

He did as he was told. When he was comfortable you moved his blanket aside and got under the covers. You put your blanket over his so you had double the warmth. 

Dalton froze. 

Did he put his hand on you? Did he just let you be? He had to touch you, there was no way he could sleep here, stiff as a board, all night. 

“I don’t have cooties D,” you whispered. You easily got comfortable beside him. Your eyes stayed open as you looked at him, straight ahead. “You can touch me,” you said, even lower, so much so that your voice almost gave out. “If this is okay.” 

“It’s okay,” he promised. You smiled sleepily. 

He put his hand on your side and you pushed yourself closer to him. You took the initiative and placed your hand over his waist. He moved so that you could nuzzle yourself into his chest. He tried not to breathe too heavily but he was sure you could hear his heart beating out of his chest. 

“Sleep,” you breathed. “I’ll keep you grounded.” 

His breath hitched. He finally closed his eyes. 

He fell asleep quickly with you in his arms. He remained in his spot the whole night, the first time in a week. 

#dalton lambert x reader #dalton lambert x fem!reader #dalton lambert imagines #insidious the red door spoilers

[naurimastaur]

Lovesick

TW: Aesthetic photo

Pairing: Fred Weasley x fem!reader

Summary: Fred comforts you while you’re sick, well at least he tries to.

Me? Writing fluff??? (I had a head cold & was delirious writing half of this)

———————————————————————

The morning birds hovering over diagon alley chirped in a harmonious melody of optimism and grace. Their song unfortunately becoming intwined in the sound of Y/N’s unwarranted retching.

“Good morning, darling,” Fred stretched, briefly regarding his partner’s state.

Her extremely curved spine and bent neck created a naturally alluring sight (to the blind).

Fred cringed at the mess she’d amassed on the floorboards below, patting her back rather discouragingly before prioritising his own comfort.

“Are you not going to work?” Y/n prodded, grabbing her wand and whispering a quick ‘scourgify’.

“No, I’m perfectly content watching you create your own moat around our bed,” he retorted, nestling against the outline of his dense head on his pillow.

“And I suppose, you’re incapable of looking after yourself,” he quickly added, after feeling her burning forehead, faking a ‘sizzle’ sound as he pressed his fingertips onto the mattress below.

“What if you get sick?” She muttered in return, eyes half closed. The tempting comfort of sleep soothing her ill state.

“What if you get sick?” He mocked, holding his nose shut in an impression of her ill voice. Being a lab rat to his own products, he had unintentionally built a form of immunity to illness.

Her weary eyes regarded him with faint amusement.

“Besides, cant get sick with all this muscle,” he bragged, flexing his arms in an embarrassing display of a masculine ego.

“Merlin, you’re worse than my headache,” she groaned, swatting his face away from hers.

“Hypochondriac,” he replied, brushing stray strands of hair away from her face.

“Ginger,” she said simply, burrowing her head into the crook of his neck.

He held her feverish body close to his, tucking her worries into the safety of his embrace. Admirably, he swallowed his horror each time her red, irritated nose scrunched with a sniffle. Usually it was partnered with a leaking fluid, grazing his woollen jumper.

Sometime later Fred awoke with a sneeze, eyes swollen and inflamed.

“Fuck,” he said.

“Indeed.”

———————————————————————

#fred weasley #fred weasley x reader #george weasley x reader #weasley twins #fred weasley imagine #george weasley #harry potter #fred weasley x fem!reader #fem!reader #hp fluff #comfort #sick comfort #autumn #james phelps #crush imagines #oneshot

[starlitmark]

Summary: You were simply trying to do your yoga routine… Yunho has a new position he'd like to show you, though. Pairing: Yunho x fem!reader Tropes: established relationship au Genre: smut Rating: R 18+ Warnings: language Smut Warnings: oral, 69 while standing, praise Word Count: 384 Note: for the Tarot Card Drabble Event Requested by: @smallfrye

Two of Pentacles ➾ flexible, multi-tasking, 69

You’ve been doing yoga every morning for as long as you can remember. Yunho knows this. As of late, though, he’s been enjoying sitting in the sunshine and sipping on his morning coffee. Which also happens to be in the same area you do your yoga. You can feel his eyes practically burning holes in you as you reach to have your hands flat against your yoga mat. Yunho just stares as you continue taking deep breaths and do your routine. 

“I have a yoga position I wanted to try.” he finally speaks, voice slightly rough still from waking up.

“And what is that, Yuyu?” you ask, completely unprepared for what he’s about to say.

“I saw this video on my Twitter timeline the other day… it was really hot…”

You suck in a sharp breath, “Mhm… wanna explain to me why there was porn on your timeline?”

“Anyway,” Yunho continues, ignoring your jab, “The guy was holding his partner up while she sucked him off… we should try that.”

You stand up straight and look at your boyfriend in disbelief. He knows there’s an undercurrent of arousal in your eyes, though. He knows that look very well.

“What’s in it for me.”

“Oh, I’m going to be happily eating you out during it all.” he states as if it’s the most obvious thing ever.

You again stand there stunned for a moment. Deciding to throw caution to the wind, you shrug and motion for him to join you on your mat. It takes mere moments before you’re both stripped bare and making out in the pale sunlight of the morning. You’re not entirely sure how your boyfriend manages to maneuver you into the desired position. But next thing you know, you’re upside down, thighs on his shoulders, with his arms wrapped around your waist. His cock is so far down your throat you choke on it, muffling any noises you make while he absolutely devours your pussy. This is not your typical morning yoga, but you’re not complaining, either. Sweet words escape Yunho’s lips once in a while when he needs to come up for air. You’re so deliriously cock-drunk you don’t even process the praise he’s laying on thickly. All you know is that you’re absolutely loving this new morning yoga routine.

COPYRIGHT FLOWERBOYKUN 2023© ALL RIGHTS RESERVED — reposting/modifying any fic or piece of original writing posted on this blog is not allowed. Translations are not permitted. 

Networks: @cultofdionysusnet @kwritersworld @k-vanity

Tag List: @sanjoongie @jaehunnyy @ericssmile @anyamaris

#yunho smut #cultofdionysusnet #kwritersworldnet #kvanity #ateez fanfic #ateez x reader #ateez smut #yunho fanfic #yunho x reader

[sorencd]

a scenario with neil where another character (maybe knox?) is flirting with you or maybe tells the poets that he wants to ask you out and neil gets jealous would be so amazing if you’re willing to write it!

im so sorry if this comes off as messy or smth i just woke up from this surreal, felt-like-a-thousand-years nap and i am so disoriented rn but i need to write this fic 😝😝also the entire time i read this with alex's voice in mind because i finished watching a clockwork orange this morning and i couldn’t get his british narrative voice out of my head. that's all, i hope u enjoy this, my brothers.

"alright, take a knee lads. i've got news."

knox proclaimed as he stood up, his voice gently resounding along the dimly light cave. the hood he wore accentuated the somewhat ominous, shakesperean over-dramatic tone he spoke in. the other poets and you diverted their attention from the snack-filled coat on the ground to him, curiously anticipating what their fellow poet was about to say.

“i’ve been thinking, won’t it be a brilliant idea to ask out the lovely (y/n)?”

his leather covered feet clicked against the damp ground, his face glimmering with smugness as he looked at you. half-expecting you and the poets to agree to his question. you rolled your eyes, disregarding his usual foolish antics and resumed your secluded talk with todd about cooking.

“i think that’s a no from (y/n), knox.”

charlie’s exclaimed while his loud cackle reverberated through the cave as soon as he saw the scrunched-up nose you had on your face. a clear sign you didn’t like what knox said.

“it never hurts to try, no?”

“it might, neil here looks like he’s got his knickers in a twist.”

everyone’s attention quickly focused on neil, who just as fast as the other poets’ heads turn removed the grouchy look on his face before anyone could see how much the situation was affecting him.

“what?”

“no need to grip your pants that tight, give it a break.” charlie teased, jabbing his elbow into neil’s side.

you didn’t want to stay any longer, you could feel the conversation lead to somewhere unpleasant and you weren’t gonna stay long enough to find out. besides, your eyes were giving up on you.

“i think i’ll be the first one to hit the hay.”

“this early?”

you dusted off any debris or dirt away from your pajamas and stood up from your spot.

“good night!”

a flurry of voices wished you good night and the sounds of you walking away echoed from within the cave, with how focused you are in staring into the abyss, you couldn’t hear the footsteps that followed yours.

“(y/n).”

you quickly whipped your head around to find neil, jogging slightly to catch up with you.

“neil?”

“the one and only.”

“are you making sure i get back to my room safe? aw you didn’t have to.”

he laughed, softly and gently, as the wind blew past the two of you.

“are you okay? you look like you were about to kill someone.”

neil rolled his eyes before sighing, pocketing both of his cold hands.

“i just did the like what knox said.”

“what, were you jealous?”

you teased, a small playful grin adorning your lips. you looked at him, expecting him to be sharing the same look as you.

“what if i said i was?”

he looked into your eyes, as if he was mesmerizing at each feature on your face, and as if he was awaiting your response.

“it’s getting late, neil. you’re probably a bit delirious. let’s hurry back.”

“i’m not.” he stopped dead in his tracks, leaving him a few steps behind before you stopped your own walking.

“i like you, i’ve liked you since the moment i’ve met you, (y/n).”

unlike the cold and chilly winds that kept gushing and embracing your body, your cheeks were another story. it felt like they were on fire, you could almost already hear neil calling you a tomato with how red they were.

he took a few steps forward, he took off the coat that hugged his shoulders and offered it towards you.

“would you like to go out with me?”

#neil perry x reader #neil perry #dead poets society x reader #dead poets society

[inklore]

Tell me a bed time story about the things javi g would be into 😩😩 need that man like I need air

it’s 2am so i apologize for my incoherent typing and thoughts ok, that is a warning!!

sorry to the girlies who are dying on the hill of ‘he’s a sub’, i strongly strongly disagree. and i’m not just saying this because he’s my fav ok, i’m saying this because it’s true. i could write a three part essay on it but: he is not strictly a sub. switch? absolutely.

now with the above stated let’s get into the nitty gritty here, i have two words: high sex. high. sex.

this man will get you stoned out of your mind and spend the next two hours going down on you until you’re pulling at his curls, over sensitive and needing more. he’ll happily oblige of course, crawling up your body and pushing into you in one fluid motion. thrusts slow and languid. mouth all over your neck, jawline, collarbones. it’d feel like he’s been fucking you for hours with how much sweat has accumulated on your bodies, the summer breeze from the open windows your only cool relief.

roleplay. like come on he loves movies, cinema! he loves creating! scripting. like expect the two of you to act out the most intense scene of build up and then fucking on the nearest surface CONSTANTLY.

he’s a giver, but in a greedy way. meaning that if you asked him to do something, try something new (choking, spanking, whatever you desire) he’s going to do it. and he’s going to do it right to the point of him bringing you to the brink from it and then stopping just when you’re about to topple over just so he can hear the deliriously beautiful moans and mewls you make into his mouth.

fucking in the pool? of course. on the balcony in the early morning sun? clearly. bending you over the dining room table because you kept making eyes at him while he was trying to eat? accurate for both breakfast, lunch, and dinner. coming on the boat? tricky but he loves a challenge. on the trail? by the beach? he wants you everywhere!

he’s a begger. sometimes in a whiney way if he’s had a long frustrating day. but mostly in a ‘i need you to give me all of you because you have all of me’ way. the way that has him saying things like “just give me one more, one more and i’ll give you what you need” + “thought about making you come all day, can you come for me, please” + “say you want it, tell me, tell me how badly you want it”.

cock warming and blowjobs during movies are a guilty pleasure of his, for sure.

remember that scene in the movie where he got like super angry? yeah, you cannot convince me that the makeup sex, and or ‘angry sex’ with him would not be absolutely divine. because you know afterward he’s going to press the softest kisses into your shoulder, he’s going to make sure he didn’t hurt you. but the love marks on your neck definitely do something for him.

#javi is my everything ok i know him #javi gutierrez x reader #javi gutierrez smut #javi gutierrez #javi gutierrez x you #javi gutierrez headcanons #▸ laur answers #/ sil my soulmate #thots !