#flip the pillow over and it's got the back of the card on t

[yuri-is-online]

Missed Connection Section of the NRC Gazette (Floyd, Leona, and Ruggie)

While cleaning the Ramshackle guest room, the prefect occasionally finds items that remind them of their guests. Sometimes that is because those items actually belong to them and need to be returned, other times it's just a happy coincidence. Either way, the item needs to be delivered, might as well invite them over again? Or just chase them down, whatever is most convenient.

notes: they/them pronouns used for Yuu, Yuu is implied to be short, based off the personal items you can find in the guest room and a line from Floyd's dormwear card, title inspired by a country song that has nothing to do with the subject of the fic. I got a request for the 300 followers event, but since it's closed and I had this kicking around for Floyd anyway I added the other two requested characters. If you liked this you can read my other fics here.

Grey Scarf

"Floyd." Azul has a boring look on his face, all grimacy and angry and not worth Floyd's attention. Unfortunately he is very close to his face making it a tad impossible to ignore. "Where is your scarf?"  

"Dunno." He says. "I ain't wearing it." 

"I can see that." Snaps Azul. "You need it for your shift, you look sloppy enough as it is.  You scarf is a part of your uniform!  How can you be so careless with it?"

Because it's ugly.  Sure, it matches his dorm uniform kind of but his socks get to be a snazzy purple with a cute octopus pattern, why'd the scarf have to be such a boring grey?  Rules are rules though, and he does need it to work so he drags himself back over to his room and starts looking around. Normally, he would just steal Jade's and wait tables until he figured it out and forced Floyd to take the kitchen off his hands, but Floyd really didn't feel like cooking today. He didn't feel like waiting tables either, but money was money and Azul paid well. Only if he could find his stupid scarf apparently which was nowhere he could see, and he was far from happy about physically looking. Jade opens the door as he's halfway through emptying his bedside drawer on top of his bed, alongside all the laundry he'd had scattered across the floor.

"Looking for your scarf?" Floyd throws a pillow at him which is quickly returned with a pointed look that dares him to escalate things further just obviously enough Floyd doesn't want to do it. Instead he falls face first into the pile of laundry and nick nacks he'd been sorting through, making Jade sigh in disappointment.

"'s not here." Floyd grunts, muffled by an ok smelling t-shirt.

"Have you tried retracing your steps?" Jade is saying it just to be annoying but it is ok advice. Floyd tries, he doesn't usually wear his dorm uniform outside of school stuff, so it would have to be somewhere on campus. He hauls himself up from the pile and shuffles past his brother, the walk out of the mirror and towards the main campus passing by in a blur. There's a vague memory of club practice, but that could have been from any day this week, and it's not like he wears it to classes. Floyd chews on his lip in annoyance, he feels like he remembers where the last place the scarf was, but his bad mood is keeping him from sorting through his memories intellectually. It also keeps him from looking where he's going, smacking him directly into a very tiny, very familiar looking person who pointedly ignores his angry snarl to shove something in his face. Something very familiar, very boring, and very clearly the only reason either of them had left their dorms this evening.

"Seriously," the little shrimp has to stand up on their tip toes to throw the scarf around his shoulders "you have got to stop leaving your things at my dorm!" He thinks they're angry. That would explain the look on their face, but it's making his heart do weird flips between his chest and his stomach that keep him from thinking straight. A smile finds its way to his face, wide and unbidden coupled with outstretched arms that can't catch them fast enough, like he's reaching through honey even though he finds his mark and tugs them thrashing into his embrace.

"Awww," the words that come out of his mouth don't really feel like his "was little shrimpy wooooried about me?" He should say thank you. That's what Mamma Leech would say, and it's not that he doesn't want to, it's just there's a weird weight to the words he can't quite figure out. Something that wants to be said, but not just yet. They deserve a better tone, a better mood.

"No!" Yuu yells, muffled by his squeeze and unaware of how struggling is only going to make his hold tighter. "You just always burst in and whine about being bored-" Floyd nuzzles his cheek against theirs, trying to ignore the pushing against his chest as he sets them down.

"It's ok little shrimpy, you don't have to be so modest. Good shrimpies get rewards, I'll make sure to bring you something after I get off work, make sure to leave the door unlocked for me~" Or maybe don't, he could find his way in anyway he's sure of that but there's something about the fantasy of them wanting to see him (it's not a fantasy, they've invited him over before he knows that they don't fear him as much as they should) after work that's going to get him through the shift. Maybe he'll ditch the scarf again and make them come running after him on purpose this time, he thinks to himself with an uncharacteristically gentle smile.

Grand Wallet

Contrary to what he would say out-loud, Leona does think that the Ramshackle Prefect is quite smart. You do not survive as a magicless student from a different reality without some flexibility and raw intelligence. The consistency with which they could pick up on things and see through concealed intentions demands respect. But, he supposes as he idly thumbs through his bill fold disappointed to find it just as thick as when he left it, they are also... he decides to go with nice. The concerned way they stare at him is nice, Leona likes positive attention. He just wishes it wasn't from the nicest person he knows, is it so wrong to wish he had some reassurance that there was someone willing to be only nice to him? There's an ugly sort of suspicion they might have refused to steal from him out of fear, he's certainly more of a threat to them than he is to Ruggie.

"Well I guess I owe you a reward huh?" They jump, not helping the accusation (unvoiced) that they're only doing this out of fear.

"No?" Yuu says, looking around them probably to make sure that bratty cat monster isn't within earshot. Leona doesn't care about rewarding Grim, this is between him and the prefect, not some gluttonous bastard who is half the reason he was expecting to be stolen from in the first place. "You- Just stop forgetting things at my place!" He smiles slightly at that choice of phrasing just as they cringe at it. It almost makes him sound like a normal guy, if a Prince was leaving things around someone's place that would invite speculation; and Leona knows better than anyone that speculation invites scandal.

"Real shame no one ever does things out of the goodness of their hearts these days." His voice drawls as embarrassment settles over their face. They look almost mouse-like, if they try to speak Leona just knows they'll squeak and they clearly know it too. "You're really twisting my arm here, pretty shameless, prefect." That does it, the deep breath they take does nothing but really accentuate the harsh contrast of the squeaking to their normal voice.

"I did not," Yuu is so mortified they can barely get the words out, if he can't be the only recipient of their kindness he will satisfy himself with batting them around in his paws until they can pull together some nerves and force him to stop "return your wallet just for a reward. It's yours it belongs to you and now it is back where it belongs. Which isn't my guest room on top of a fucking couch seriously Leona-" Mice still have claws, even if the dent they leave is just a little scratch to such a big cat, he finds himself pleased with the annoyance of Yuu finding their voice. "It was like you were practically begging to be robbed. What if one of the Leech twins found that huh? Would you be getting it back?"

"Only after I paid the finders fee." He can ignore the tickle caused by the unsavory image of an eel inviting itself into your personal space. "Which is what I am doin' now, you're demanding it remember?" He tunes his ears to their footsteps as he walks towards the cafeteria, content with how quickly they jump to follow. The typically steady beat of their heart is skipping in tune with the directions of their thoughts. Good, the mouse is smart contrary to what the trapped lion thinks, so let them; they'll realize the hold they have over him soon enough.

Empty Lunch Box

This was really starting to annoy you, but no matter how much you turned the whole thing over in your mind you couldn't figure out why. You had been tempted to try and ask someone about it, but you could already tell what the general reaction to the situation would be.

The "situation" being that simply put, Ruggie liked to hang out in your guest room. That wasn't the issue. You liked having Ruggie over, it's actually really nice. Sometimes he brings small projects from some odd job or another and you'll work on them together while having a chat. He likes to ask you things about your world, it started as just small talk about the sort of jobs you'd had in your world but evolved into much more meaningful talks about your hobbies and the family you missed. You had even had a lengthy conversation about death and the difference between cultural beliefs about where you go after you die. Yes it was very nice and domestic even but then you made the mistake of trying to be nice.

Ruggie liked to bring a lunchbox with him when he visited. Sometimes it had food in it, and while he hadn't shared it with you at first, but then you started talking about your families and he had slightly warmed up to the idea of sharing snacks. You hadn't taken anything from him until he explicitly offered, and when he forgot the now empty lunch box you had pulled some of your personal savings to get him something from the Mystery Shop. It was supposed to be a cute surprise for him to find when you returned the lunch box, and it worked. Granted you had intended for him to find it after he got back to his dorm, but he had sniffed it out as soon as you handed it over. His reaction was cute, he was cute, it was almost like he thought he was dreaming with just how excited he had been to receive some packaged pastries. When he came over later in the week and left the lunchbox again you had done the same thing. Fair is fair, he gets you jobs and shares his food and you give a little food back in return. Lately though something has been different. Ruggie has still been coming to hang out, he still brings work, you still talk, and he still leaves that damn lunch box. But he hasn't been sharing anything, meaningful; personal information or foodwise.

Maybe it was the death conversation. If you had revealed you were an orphan and that you never knew your mom to someone you had a crush on (not that Ruggie like likes you no matter how much you might might want that) you would be pumping the breaks too. But it still kind of hurt, it felt like a rejection of something that you knew hadn't existed in the first place.

"Y'know you don't have to give me stuff." Ruggie had come over today too, with shitty plastic garbage that needed packed into boxes. He's either read your mind or noticed you brought the remainder of the packaged goods out to snack on while you work. You try to asses him from behind your pile of card stock, he's overly focused on his task. Reflective maybe? He is almost pouting.

"I wanted to." You decide to stick with honesty, sure Ruggie might be sneaky but he deserves that much, doesn't he? "You share with me, I share with you. Fair's fair, right?"

"Right." Ruggie says, audibly disappointed to your confusion. You have never seen him so... gloomy over the concept of someone owing him a favor. Especially one paid back in food. "You do that for everybody, yeah?"

"Yeah?" You say, pausing in your work for just a second to try and collect yourself. Up until a few seconds ago you had been under the impression that had been one of your better qualities.

"So like," he isn't looking at you and his ears are saggy, tugging at your heartstrings painfully though just a tiny part of you is starting to hope- "if Leona left no that doesn't make sense. If Jack left his lunch box here and it was empty would you buy him a snack?" You think for a second.

"Did he share his lunch with me?"

"Yes." Ruggie's looking at you again, like he has a bone to pick.

"Maybe." You don't really have to think about the answer, as much as you like returning the favor Jack would probably just be happy to find his lost item and leave it at that. "If we were hanging out and he wanted something from a vending machine I'd spot him."

"But you wouldn't go out of your way to get him something?" Ruggie's stopped working now, he's really staring at you almost like he is trying to sus you out as if he hasn't been friends with you for a while now. As if he doesn't know more of your secrets than anyone else.

"I-" for some reason what you want to say gets stuck on your throat, maybe it's because Ruggie leans across the couch to get a bit closer to your face. Maybe it's because you are suddenly a lot more aware of what your little actions might have meant to him as your previous conversations play over in your mind "no. You're the only person I've really gone out of my way to get food for. Well except for maybe Grim but he doesn't really count..." You both let out sharp breaths, your eyes fall down to your work, hands going back to the task out of habit and desire to distract yourself.

shishishishi

Ruggie is silent and back in his perch across from you once your head snaps up to look at him. His small grin is intoxicating, his tail is swishing in pride like he's just won a great victory in some war you had no idea he was fighting. It is a smug look, too smug for someone who just put you through a few days of mental torture.

Maybe you'll make him some food next time, you'll see who is smug after that.

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #floyd leech x reader #leona kingsholar x reader #ruggie bucci x reader #when i realized leona leaves his whole ass wallet at your guest room i screamed #the soul of ruggie bucchi became my stand #and we had a spiritual experience with the amount of horror we felt at the idea of a fucking PRINCE LEAVING HIS GODDAMN WALLET #WAS YOUR DRIVER'S LICENSE IN THAT LEONA? EVER THINK OF THAT #FORGET THE CASH AND CARDS YOUR FUCKING LICENSE??? LEONA???

[gyusfavlibra]

MY BROTHERS PROTECTIVE BEST FRIEND

Johnny Suh x afab Reader! Ft. Brother!Mark

WARNINGS: +18, sex, smut, unprotected sex, language, fluff, maybe angst if you really consider. Fingering, grinding, sexual language!

Word count: +1k

Proofread: yes finally! Although I’m dyslexic so my grammar might suck🫣

…………………………………………………..……………………

“Mark! Give me my fucking earbuds!”

You throw down the large pillow you had just been holding from the queen sized bed inside your bedroom. You just got home from a long day of college. Ready to chill out, listen to music and finish up some school work. Considering it is a Friday and you wanted the weekend to yourself.

That is until you couldn’t find the one thing that would top that whole plan together. Your earbuds. You remember setting them on your desk right before you left for your final class of the day. Even remembered to charge them as well. But now they were gone.

And only one name came to mind. The identification of your younger brother. Mark.

You weren’t even 100% sure why Mark was at your apartment right now. You had come home and heard a game being blasted in the living room but never even agreed to him coming over.

But he’s your brother so of course, you let it be.

“Mark! Mark! My head phones please!”

You barge into the doorway, but pause when you notice another figure sitting on the sofa with your relative. A figure you are always suffocating yourself to see.

“Oh, Johnny. I didn’t know you were here.”

The brunette looks at you and smiles. “I just got here.”

You purses your lips. Trying so desperately to chase down the beating in your chest, your ears, even your fingers. Swallowing it, you turn back to your brother before you say something you regret. “Mark, my earbuds.”

“I’m busy, Y/n. Stop bothering me!”

“In my apartment?”

Johnny sighs out at his friends rude actions. Sweeping the box of cold Mc Donalds fries off the coffee table and throwing it into a bag. He knew better than any one that you hated people invading your space AND leaving it messy.

“Mark seriously. I have homework and I want my headphones. I don’t even know why you have them.”

“Sis, respectfully, please be quiet and leave me alone.”

The tone and words your brother sent your way not only triggered you, but his friend as well. Johnny hated when Mark was so difficult with you on situations like this. He had witnessed so many of these altercations and every single time, he was definitely on your side.

You can see the way it bothered the tall figure that man spreads at the other end of the sofa. Man you wished he’d stop wearing such sexy joggers when around you. But you got to push that aside for the time being. This is important. You huff a breath out with a pout. Eyes gazing to the other figure to plead cutely for some help.

Mark can never argue with him. “Johnnyyy.”

“Mark, c’mon man. Give her the earbuds.”

Johnny sticking up for you made your stomach do several flips. Which wasn’t that shocking because he’s done so many, many times before. But each time, it warmed your heart even more than the last.

When Mark stole one of your graphic t shirts. Specifically, one Johnny had given you. When Mark came over and took pillow cases for Halloween instead of using his own. Mark spilling orange juice on your kitchen floor and decide to wait until it was actually sticky to clean it up. There’s an on going cycle. Johnny’s been on your side for every single one.

Mark sighs out loudly, loud enough that you were sure Spain could hear it. His occupied hands now change course and pull the earphones from behind him. He slaps them into your own hand before looking at your eyes. His annoyances spoke loudly.

“Good, thanks. Now head out and get food for me. I’m starving.”

His jaw dropped.

“Why me?”

“Because I know if I go, you’re gonna make demands about getting something as if you’re actually paying.”

“True.”

You rip your card from your pocket and set it down on the table sat an inch below their knees. “Here’s my card. Get something for you and Johnny, too.”

“Thanks sis,” he chuckles. He pauses the game on the television. You weren’t even entirely sure what it was. Guns and animation was the farthest you’d get.

Mark turns to Johnny just as you exit the room, who was staring blankly at his phone. “You wanna come with? Or stay here?”

“I’ll stay here. I wanna try the level myself.”

“Well do you want anything?”

Johnny accepts that whatever Mark gets, he’ll enjoy too. Taking that as an answer, Mark nods and heads out of the apartment to a restaurant.

Johnny stands from the sofa after tossing the gaming controller off to the side. His brown orbs peek through the curtains to see if Mark had reached the car yet. Thank the heavens you were located on the second floor. The boy always could get to the parking lot fast enough.

Watching as Mark steps beside his vehicle to unlock the drivers door, Johnny takes that as a clear to go abbreviation.

Racing down the apartment hall, he finds himself standing in front of your bedroom door. You’re on the inside studying, laid out on your stomach with a textbook in your face, headphones playing in through your ears. Loud enough that you didn’t hear the double knock, nor the sound of the door opening.

Johnny creeps behind you. Shutting the door behind him in the process. You didn’t notice his presence at all. Considering you’re facing away from the door.

That is until you feel the end of the bed dip under your legs. Then a hand lands beside your elbow that dig into the mattress from holding you up. You pull off your headphones and place them in their case.

“I’m studying.”

“I know,” he replies. Moving his upper body down so that you could see his face. “Just wanted to see you.”

When he spoke like this, you had to give in. If it was any other words, you would’ve kicked him out to finish your work, but as of now, you just can’t.

You place your homework sheet into the textbook and push the whole thing aside. Turning onto our back, you can see his whole figure so clearly now.

His faint smile sits so beautifully on his face. Johnny tucks a strand of your locks off your eyebrow and behind your ear. “Hi.”

“Hi.”

His head dips down, soft pink tinted lips pecking on the corner of your mouth. It almost makes you scream that he didn’t hit your lips, until he does.

“You look so pretty today.”

“Really?”

“Of course. You always look so pretty,” he traces the outline of your jaw with his mouth. He props your knee to the side so he can have his lower body laying in between your legs rather than straddling you.

You thought it was just for him to get more comfortable, but it was really so he could connect his now covered bulge on the thin legging material that covers your heat.

The hand of his that laid in the bed now tugs on your waist. Pulling your bottom half to rub against his own. If you had on ANY other underwear, these actions probably wouldn’t have been so effective. But you in thin lace. And your leggings were a thin material so you can feel it all.

And with his sweats, this was just a perfect day for clothing choices.

The pulls were continuous. One pull of your hips after another. “J-Johnny, what about Mark?”

“What about him?”

“What if he comes back?”

“Then he comes back. I don’t care,” he shrugs, placing his lips on your neck. He leaves soft wet kisses rather than hickeys because he knew better. “Besides, have you even gone out to eat with your brother. He never knows what to get anyway. He stares at the menu for at least five minutes.”

“I guess you’re right.”

“Mh, glad you realized. Now, let’s forget about him. Thinking about your brother is the last thing I wanna do when I’m trying to fuck his sister.”

His words spark something in this moment. You hadn’t seen or been with Johnny in at least two weeks. They’ve been finishing their sports season. So there was no hiding how horny you are right now because of the lack of touch.

Not blaming Johnny.

But now, it’s gonna be even harder to see him because of the fact that the season is over. Which means Mark will want Johnny all to himself.

So moments like this, you have to savor.

“Where’d you go?”

You didn’t realize the words were meant for you until everything, the kisses and grinding, had stopped. “What?”

“You zoned out.”

“Sorry- I was just thinking.”

“About me I hope.”

You smile. Of course he’d want that. “Well yes. And no. It’s just, I’ve missed you this week. And now that your sport is over, Marks gonna hog you all for himself.”

“I’ve missed you, too, baby. And I will make time for you. I promise. Mark doesn’t need me all the time. Don’t worry, okay?”

You nod. If Johnny makes a promise, he keeps it. So him promising to try to see you more is enough to set it aside and focus on the both of you and what you’re doing now.

You pull him down so your lips touch. His hand on your waist grips tightly on the skin that peeks from under the sweater. HIS sweater. The one you placed on yourself when you returned to your room because you knew the second Mark left for food, Johnny would be right at your door.

His ruts his hips deeply so that his heavy erection grazing so perfectly onto your aching core. His hand on your waist now pulls at the band on your pants. Pulling them down and off your legs. Leaving the underwear intact.

His eyes darken at the sight of the lace underwear HE had taken you to buy. The green sits perfectly against your skin.

“God, you’re so fucking sexy.”

“I want you, Johnny.”

“You have me, baby.”

You whine at the feeling of his finger rubbing your clit over the fabric. The underwear is definitely soaked but for some reason it feels better this way. Maybe it’s because it makes it harder for his finger to slip away or the material just feels perfect when being moved around. Who knows?

His lips mend with yours. The extra intimacy arouses you even more.

Johnny takes this occupied moment to pull his throbbing dick out his joggers and boxers. Replacing his finger motions on your heat with the tip.

He rubs it back and forth. Same motions he’d do if it was his fingers. You remove yourself from the kiss to watch. Johnny kisses the corner of your mouth again, then your cheek, then your temple, and then behind your ear before he whispers.

“Want it inside? Hm?”

Sucking your bottom lip into your mouth, you hum in response. He wasn’t gone force words out your mouth. Not when you’ve already expressed how badly you want him moments ago. Any other day he would, not today.

He pulls aside the wet lace, picking up some of your juices before slipping right inside. Not too fast. It has been a minute, so he allows the adjustment.

You moan into his shoulder just as he grunt into your ear.

“Fuck you always feel so good around me. You were made for me.”

If you had a dollar for how many times Johnny has told you that he loved when you were wrapped around him, you’d be in the Bahamas right now. But he just had to make sure you knew how much he enjoyed being intimate with you. Especially since the first time when you questioned whether he had other partners.

He didn’t.

But you don’t know any better at the time.

So he always made sure that you knew he loved being with you in every way possible.

“Fuck- I might just cum already.”

You hands grip the mid length locks on the back of his head. His face still being tucked next to your ear allows you the access to do so. You were so glad he was deciding to grow it out. Gave you more to hold onto.

His thrust into your pussy speeds up. Johnny holds back on cumming so you could get there first. To help, he puts his fingers back onto your clit. Circling them around just perfectly. Just how you loved it. “Fuck. Johnny, just like that.”

“Do it feel good? Hm baby?”

“Y-yes. God yes.”

“God, I wish I could fuck you like this everyday. Fucking shit!”

The constant clenching you were expressing around his cock made it harder for him to hold it in. So he rubs his fingers faster. Slamming his lips onto your mouth knowing that the extra feeling will help you get there.

You expose a string of moans. Each one getting louder than the other which informed him that you were peeking.

“Cum. Cum for me.”

And you do as told. Letting go right around his still fastening dick. He hardens his thrusts inside you and removes his fingers to hold your hips as he thanks the heavens that he can finally let go himself. His white cum shoots inside of you. Painting your insides so much, he’s so sure you emptied him out completely. Grunts echoe into your mouth. On and on until he stills and collapses on top of you. His face right back next to your ear.

“God, you’re so perfect.”

“You too,” you smile. You wrap your arms around him to hold his figure against you. Placing a kiss on his head.

You both stay like this until your phone dings. You pick up the device and notice a text message from Mark. You turn the phone and taps Johnny’s shoulder so he could see the message as well.

Mark

Traffics a little backed up

Mark

I got the food but it might be a little cold :(

“He really does take forever.”

“I told you,” he chuckles. Johnny kisses your cheek again and then your reddened lips. “Let’s clean up and watch a movie until he gets here. Sound good?”

“Sounds perfect.”

#johnny suh fanfic #johnny suh #nct 127 fluff #nct 127 smut #johnny suh smut #johnny suh x you #johnny suh x reader #nct #nct johnny #nct smut #nct fanfiction #kpop #kpop smut #johnny fanfic #mark lee

[it-was-too-cold-always]

We're Not in CW Anymore - 4

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

The reader gets blasted into another universe - one where Sam and Dean Winchester are real people, real hunters, and really fucked up. To her surprise (or horror), Dean has been getting glimpses of her life in his dreams and is completely enamored with her. It's nothing like the cable-friendly CW show that she knows and loves.

Reader x Dean Winchester

Warnings: language, violence

Chapter 4: Target: Expect More. Pay Less.

You woke up to the sound of the most annoying alarm you’ve heard in your life. You groaned. “Please turn it off,” you complained. You heard Dean flail his arm around until he hit the snooze button. “Thank god,” you said, snuggling into your pillow. Why was your pillow so hard? Maybe because it was Dean. You quickly realized what was happening – your head was on Dean’s chest, hand resting on his bicep. His arm was wrapped around your waist tightly. You were CUDDLING with this man. With a jolt, you sat up.

“What the fuck?!” you yelled.

“What the fuck me?! What the fuck YOU!” Dean yelled back. “You were on ME, sweetheart. I think that makes you the more guilty party.”

“Ugh!” was all you could respond. He had a point, as infuriating as it was.

Scrambling off the bed, you tripped over the ridiculously long sweatpants and almost faceplanted into the floor. Dean was making you very flustered, and that was pissing you off. You’re supposed to be keeping your guard up with this guy, not snuggling him. You walked over to his desk, grabbing the pile of your neatly folded clothes. “I need more clothes,” you stated. You weren’t too keen on wearing the same outfit over and over. A clean pair of panties would be nice.

“I’ll give you a card and you can go shopping. Just don’t go too crazy,” Dean said. You rolled your eyes. You were planning on hitting up a Target, not Nordstrom. You headed to the bathroom to get ready for the day, replaying everything in your head. It felt so strong and comforting to be in his arms. The feeling of his rock-hard chest gave you butterflies. You wanted to lie there with him all day and trace your fingertips over his tattoos. No, you thought, you still don’t know this guy. He could be a cold-blooded killer.

You walked back into Dean’s room to find him putting on his boots. You took a moment to admire his tattoo sleeve – you recognized a few references to classic rock band album covers. You wondered if that was the only place he had tattoos.

“Like what you see, sweetheart?” Dean teased. You had no idea how long you’ve been staring.

“Just curious about your tattoos,” you answered honestly. You couldn’t think of a snarky response.

“What, TV Dean wasn’t tatted up?” he asked. You shook your head.

“Just that anti-possession symbol on his chest,” you answered. He chuckled and pulled his t-shirt down enough for you to see the same tattoo in the same place. “Like this?”

“Yeah, that’s the one.” You rolled your eyes. Why did he have to be this charming?

“Alright,” he said, clapping his hands together, “Sammy’s got a case, and you need to go shopping. Let’s get to it.”

Dean dropped you off at Target while he and Sam went on a supply run. You bought all the essentials – some leggings, a few tops, underwear, socks, a duffle, and you had to splurge on a little eyeliner. It’s not for Dean, it’s for me, you told yourself. You checked out and called Sam, letting him know you were done and ready to be picked up. To your relief, he told you they’re already on their way. You sat on a bench outside with your bags, flipping through social media on your phone. You weren’t following anyone, but you could at least watch the reels. You were entranced with the videos of the bottles going down the stairs, so much so that you barely noticed a figure standing in front of you. Looking up, you saw a tall man with a snapback and a crooked smile. “Hey there baby. Waitin’ on someone? Mind if I join you?”

Great. You literally had nowhere to go, so you’d be stuck with this douche-canoe. You could tell him to fuck off, but the people pleaser in you was scared of how he’d react. You’re not scared to sass Dean, you told yourself. Maybe you were more comfortable around him than you thought. Disrupting your thoughts, the guy sat next to you on the bench, leaning back and placing an arm around your shoulders. Screw this so hard.

“Please don’t touch me,” you said, voice shaking. Way to be assertive.

“Baby I think you’d better come home with me. You can show me all those pretty clothes you bought. I wouldn’t mind watching you undress.” You cringed, not seeing a way out of this situation.

Like a knight in shining armor, you watched as the Impala drove up to the front of the store. Bolting up and grabbing your bags, you hurriedly mumbled, “Sorry, there’s my ride.” Except he grabbed your wrist and yanked you back to face him.

“I think you’re just trying to blow me off, which I really don’t appreciate. Where are your manners?” he seethed. This dude was seriously nuts if he thought you were coming home with him. Before you could say anything, you heard a car door slam.

“Hey dipshit, get your hands off of her before I rearrange your fucking face!” Dean was PISSED. He was coming right at him, fists clenched, the look in his eyes absolutely terrifying. Yeah, Dean was a scary motherfucker. But it kind of turned you on how protective he was being.

“Woah hey man, we’re cool. We were just talking, weren’t we?” the man turned toward you as if you’d back him up. You, however, had your eyes fixed on Dean’s.

“Let’s go,” you said quietly. Dean wasted no time in putting his arm around your shoulders and walking you to the car, but not before sending a swift punch to the man’s gut. You didn’t look back but could hear him groaning and yelling profanities. Dean opened the door for you, grabbing your bags to throw them in the trunk. Flipping off the man as a final “fuck you,” Dean sped out of the parking lot.

“You good?” Sam asked. You nodded, knowing your voice would quiver too much if you tried to talk. Dean simply grunted, not wanting to open his mouth and scare you with his anger. The car ride was silent for about an hour. Dean kept checking on you, looking through the rearview mirror. He was worried. You looked out the window, desperately trying to calm yourself down. The entire situation had you shaking. The fear you felt with that man, then Dean’s booming voice, it was a lot to process. You immediately felt safe when you saw Dean pull up in the Impala. You instinctually knew he’d protect you, and that thought bounced around your head for a while. Maybe this whole soulmate thing was real.

Chapter 5

Tags 💛

@5tud10-54r4h  @deans-spinster-witch @nelachu2423 @nancymcl

#dean winchester #supernatural #dean x reader #sam and dean #team free will #spn #fanfic

[darthannie]

day seven: sex tape with neil lewis

pairing: Neil Lewis x f!reader word count: 738 warnings: p in v sex, gf!reader, unprotected sex, blowjob, a/n: If he could, he’d film his sex tape on Super 8. This one is a little silly but it’s fun. I love Neil.  kinktober masterlist

There was no real reason you and Neil wanted to make a sex tape, you just thought it would be fun to make a little movie for each other. You went to his house one night, ready for the “shoot” as he called it. He had even cleaned his room for the occasion. 

You’d both gotten completely naked so as not to waste any precious minutes when you started filming. He was already getting hard at the sight of you. The viewfinder from the camcorder was facing towards you so you could see what was happening. 

He thought you looked pretty with spit on your face and his cock on your cheek. You tapped it on your face and smiled, licking It again. You didn’t break eye contact with the camera as you took him in your mouth again, bobbing up and down. You closed your eyes to enjoy the moment. 

You looked up at Neil as he moved the camera and flipped the viewfinder to get a head-on view of the action. You used both your hands and mouth, cupping his balls with one hand and stroking him with the other. Your tongue danced on the tip of his cock and he moaned loud enough for the janky microphone to pick up. He flipped the viewfinder to watch through the camera.

“Wait, wait, wait. Fuck, we’re running out of time on the card. Get on your back.” You let out a long AHHHHH, as you maneuvered around him. It made him laugh and he forgot about the camera for a moment as he bent over to kiss you. 

You pulled away. “Okay, babe, no time.”

“Right, right,” he froze for a second. “Here, you grab the camera and film me.”

Once you put him in frame he was back in it. You zoomed in on his cock sliding over your wet pussy. He put the tip inside you and pulled out. You groaned, “Neil, no time for teasing just fuck me.”

“Okay, okay.” He thrust hard, reaching a deep spot that made you twitch, shaking the camera slightly. He settled on a moderate pace as he found which angle got the best reaction out of you. 

He knew he had you when your head dipped into the pillows under you. He focused on you. He couldn’t believe he had a girlfriend that was willing to shoot this with him. Someone willing to immortalize one of the most intimate moments of your life. 

He took the camera from your hands, flipped the viewfinder, and placed it on the nightstand. He kissed you as he started moving again. He moved from your lips to your neck, nipping at the skin and leaving marks that would soon turn red. 

“Neil, faster please…”, you begged. 

He didn’t change his speed. “I don’t care if it stops recording.”

“Me neither, I just need you.”

He groaned, “Say that again.”

“I need you, baby.”

He wanted to hear that more than anything. He sped up before you finished saying baby. Your nails ran across his back as you started feeling your orgasm build up. 

“Don’t stop, don’t stop.”

He huffed and puffed, slowing down as you came on him. He felt you squeeze around him and he pulled out. He moaned as he stroked his cock and came on your stomach.

When you both caught your breath you looked over at the camera. It read “Memory card full”. You looked at each other and chuckled. He told you to stay put and ran into the bathroom. He ran back out with boxers on and a wet washcloth. He cleaned you up and you found your underwear and t-shirt.

You put them on as he took the camera and sat down on the bed. The bed dipped as you sat next to him. Neil opened up the media library to find the movie and you both watched, listening to the sound coming from the crappy camcorder speaker.

You giggled and hid your face in the crook of his neck, unable to watch what was not on tape. He shrugged his shoulder to get you to look. You were nervous to see yourself in such a vulnerable position but had to admit you looked hot. Then came the moment of truth. You watched as Neil came on you, and then it stopped.

 Neil looked at you and smiled. “Well, I guess we got the shot.”

Taglist:

@devotedlyshadowytheorist, @dxnger-dxys, @tommyshelbywhore, @quinnlilias,@madnessandobsession, @mvpr-moon, @nela-cutie, @faebirdie, @charmed-asylum, @anasanthology, @ilikefictionalmen, @akanne-aka, @no-fooking-fighting,@queenofstresss, @flwrs4aust, @mrkdvidal1989, @eleanorthemo,@ilovepeoplesdads, @00hsv

(If something is up with your tag or you would like to be added, let me know!)

#kinktober ‘23 #annie writes #neil lewis x f!reader #neil lewis smut #neil lewis #neil lewis x reader #watching the detectives #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy #cillian murphy fic #neil lewis x you

[fiction-giga]

Built in "Pilwos"

30 Day Blurb Challenge - list link here

Day 15 - Making sure to be quiet when they fall asleep

Dad!Eddie Munson x AFAB!Reader

Warnings - Mentions of manipulation and coercion

Word Count - 0.7k

Delilah was a notorious chest sleeper. Anytime she saw you or Eddie lounging, she was pouncing on one of you and crashed right on your chest.

She even calls your boobs, “Built-in pilwos” which is adorable in its own right. However, the only downfall to having your little one want to sleep on your chest is the inevitable jealousy of her father.

Eddie was not a fan of his daughter stealing his spot. He tried to work with her on the subject multiple times, pulling the “I’ve know your mother longer” card. You didn’t even have to scold Eddie for using such unfair tactics because Delilah was on it.

Her quick wits usually beat out Eddie's before he could even make it to the starting line. She would even cross her arms and puff out her lips to really sell her point. He would give up due to easily being frustrated, usually mutter something like, "I raised her too well." as he walked away in defeat.

“She will not let up! I don’t even know who taught her manipulation tactics!” He whined.

“You did! From day one you were teaching her how to get her way.” You giggled at his scrunched up face.

“I wasn’t teaching her to manipulate people, I was teaching her how to survive. It’s a cutthroat world, and I don’t want my daughter living in it without knowing how to work the system.”

But those few times Delilah chose her dad's chest instead of yours, he would eat every second of it up. You would just roll your eyes, not really doing a good job at hiding your jealousy. He would stick his tongue out at you when you would flip him off, both of you making sure to keep quiet as to not disturb the little girl.

Pretty much everytime Delilah chose Eddie, he was asleep not long after she was. The whole thing was kind of incredible.

He could go days without sleeping thanks to past trauma, but as soon as D laid on his chest, he was out like a light. It was actually kind of adorable. The effect your daughter had on Ed was undeniable.

Today was just one of those days. You assumed it was because you were unavailable, tending to some little things around the house. Eddie wasn't occupied at the moment and as soon as Delilah let out the smallest of yawns, he was babying her up a storm. He somehow coaxed her into laying down, fist pumping in the air as she got situated.

You left for five minutes, five minutes, and by the time you got back, Eddie was out. His soft snores mixed with Delilah's soft sighs. Her chubby cheek was squished against her father's worn Megadeth t-shirt, her mouth falling open in a cute little 'o' shape. Eddie's hand rested on her back as he held her in place. His hair was sprawled out on the throw pillow beneath him and his brows were furrowed the tiniest bit.

You smiled down at the two. Your heart ached a bit just from the sheer amount of love you shared for them. Your whole world was sleeping on top of one another on your small couch in the living room of the home you and Eddie had worked so hard to maintain. It was mind-blowing.

With a small sigh of defeat, and the tiniest twinge of betrayal, you reached over to grab the blanket that was folded over the back of the couch cushions. You laid it over the two gently, watching as Delilah stirred a bit in her sleep, snuggling further into Eddie's chest.

You leaned down and give them each a kiss on the forehead. Both hands came to rest on a face, brushing the wild curly hair they both inherited out of their eyes. You knew neither of them liked the tickling feeling very much as they tried to sleep. Just another thing the two had in common. You smiled to yourself as you whispered, "Sleep tight," to the pair before tiptoeing away to resume your housework.

#eddie munson blurb #eddie munson #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson x reader #x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson scenario #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson one-shot #eddie munson one shot #eddie munson headcanon #eddie munson headcanons #eddie munson hc #eddie munson hcs #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson dialogue #eddie munson x reader fanfiction #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x yn #eddie x reader #eddie x female reader #eddie x you #eddie x yn

[the-fiction-witch]

The Mademoiselle P1

Media The Artful Dodger

Character Jack Dawkins

Couple Jack X Reader (KINDA)

Rating SMUT

Requested: Hey, I don't know if you take requests atm, but what if y/n was a showgirl and Jack Dawkins heard of her around from people or something? :)

I finished up the day heading to my room for the night immediately shutting my door and heading to my bed, but I saw a small pile on my bed and a note.

'You're mail came today, Jack X Hetty' 

I completely forgot I had even been waiting for anything, I suppose that's just one of those things where everything takes forever. I sat on my bed and went through it sorting everything, where there wasn't much a book I had given up waiting for, a correspondence from a London doctor I asked about something, and a couple of letters from my navy friends. I set the letters on my table to look over later, and stripped off climbing into bed. I tried to get some sleep but my curiosity was rampant so I grabbed the letters from the table and laid in bed looking through them. It took me a while given my reading but I got through each one by one. I finished with a letter from Peter.

Peter and I were once bunkmates, he was a few years older than me I was only thirteen and he was nineteen, the two of us very much formed a bond through the shit, blood and sea waves, he works at a shipping warehouse in Gibraltar now and we often send letters back and forth to keep up to date with each other. It would be nice to see him but letters will have to do for now. 

I read the letter, reading about his news, his wife, his work all the usual stuff we talked about, I smiled at it and set the letter on the side to write a reply when I next got a chance, But I felt the envelope was still fairly heavy so I tipped out the contents and saw a few postcards tumble out, one had writing on the back. 

'I recall your affinity for her Dawkins ;)' 

I smirked a little already knowing what they were. Peter had a thing about 'French Postcards' he said he 'collected them' which I think was an excuse, and given we shared a space during the uhhh... Long nights at sea, Yeah I kinda got into it too. I don't know there's something so... innocent about them like I know I shouldn't have them but I still like having them, and he knew of my affection towards... a certain showgirl often featured in these postcards, so if ever he came across one of her he'd get it for me, and now saves them up to send to me with his letters. 

I set the envelope on the table and slinked myself down onto my pillow tucking the covers up, as I picked up the postcards flipping them over. The first Was a sweet picture a drawing done in the typical style, three ladies by the beach in small bathing suits enjoying the sand and sea,  I recognized her Y/E/C eyes and Y/H/C Hair depicted in her usual way. And the caption at the bottom of the card is laced with intricate filigree.

The Ladies ponder taking a dip or getting dirty. 

I flipped to the next card immediately again I recognised her drawing, sat at a vanity in black stockings and a little nightie barely covering her and combed her sweet hair, the end of the picture at her knees, a man drawn peeking through her changing screen with the caption.

The Mademoiselle's nosy visitor. 

I admit my eyes lingered on her exposed shoulder and thighs longer than I like to admit, before flicking to the next one this one was mostly empty it was again a drawing of y/n in her little boots, stockings, har and gloves holding a bedsheet to conceal herself but a mirror had been sketched behind her revealing her bare ass, the end of the picture at her knees, and the caption. 

Yes, your sheet looks lovely Mademoiselle.

Already my eyes lingered on her and I bit my lip a little looking at her, I flicked to the next one and almost immediately had to shift my hips a little I knew I was already getting hard just looking at them, this one was her again in the arms of a man, she wore a beautiful blue ballgown the top of which had fallen to expose her bare breasts as the man she danced with dipped her forcing her to arch her back to better expose her breasts,

Suddenly every man at the Cotillionwants to dance with The Mademoiselle. 

I couldn't help my hand moving down to take my shaft softly giving myself a little soft rub as I looked at the perky nipples she had in the drawing, I slowly made my hand move faster until I swapped to the last postcard a very perfect drawing of her stood with only a thin sheet around her revealing almost all of her her violin in hand playing it gently, the end of the picture at her knees, I couldn't help looking at every inch of her my hand moving on its own desperate just from looking at these -

"Uuuummmmmm!" I groaned from the back of my throat as I hit my wall sending my seed across my sheets, I laid my head back on my pillow fully and gasped desperately trying to... THINK through my post-orgasm brain fog, having dropped the cards on my chest in such excitement once my head was back on straight I took the cards and added them to the small box under my bed with the rest of them adding them to the box one by one, until I got to the last one and I couldn't help but smirk laid against my pillow looking at her "Hmm... Très Vilaine Mademoiselle" ( Translation: 'hmm... Very Naughty Mademoiselle') before I gave her a kiss and an eskimo kiss before putting the card away in the box so I could get to bed. 

I yawned a little while doing some bandages, my mind elsewhere as it often was.

"When do you think I'll be out of here doc?" he asked,

"Ohh shouldn't be too long, couple of days while we monitor infection." 

"You think I'll be out by the sixteenth?"

"Oh absolutely, why somewhere to be?"

"Well yeah, uhhh haven't you heard?" he whispered

"About?"

"The Mademoiselle," he said and I froze up "She's got a show in Melbourne but she's stopping in Port Victoria." 

"She is!" I jumped a little louder than I should have done,

"Half the Port's going to see her, see if she'll give us a show before she goes off again."

"Really... Hu" I nodded trying not to get excited "You'll be out by then I'm sure." I told him heading out of the ward trying not to jump or blush with excitement... 

#tbs smut #thomasbrodiesangster #tbs imagines #thomas sangster imagine #tbs imagine #thomas brodie sangster imagine #thomas sangster #thomas brodie sangster smut #thomas brodie sangster #tbs #thearttfuldodger #theartfuldogger #the artful dodger #jackdawkins #jack #jack dawkins #thomas sangtser #thomas brodie sangster s #thomas brodie sangster i

[honeybeezgobzzzzz]

𓅨 Intermission: Morpheus’s Rival (A Tinder Side Story)

Intermission: Morpheus’s Rival (A Tinder Side Story): Takes place between Chapter 20 and Chapter 21 of ‘Your Fate is Sealed With Mine’. You, angry at Morpheus, decide to make a Tinder account and find yourself a date that will actually appreciate you.

Warnings: Spite, Jealousy.

To Note: Morpheus/Dream x Female!GranddaughterReader, Side Story to ‘Your Fate is Sealed With Mine’.

Word Count: ~1.6k

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Your rage at Morpheus was nearly palpable as your fingers typed furiously on your phone. Morpheus didn’t want to kiss you? He didn’t want to act upon the intense feelings you knew that you both could feel? Fine.You would go and find someone else to supplement the longing for a reciprocated intimate relationship. Tinder was the place you were going to start. So you started your profile, quickly entering your information, your likes, dislikes, basically everything you entered on a dating app. As you played around on the site, swiping left and right, Matthew fluttered over to you in curiosity.

“Whatcha doin’ Y/N?” Matthew asked, his head cocking to the left and right as your thumb randomly swiped left and right.

“Hunting Tinder for a date.” You answered without taking your eyes off your phone screen. Matthew almost didn’t believe his ears and asked you to repeatedly your statement.

“I’m sorry what?” He squawked, hoping to dear god that he had misheard you.

“I’m currently scavenging Tinder for a date,” You told him, shifting your eyes upwards to the poor bird who was just short of losing his mind. “Since someone has decided that he doesn’t want or appreciate me, I’ve decided to go out and find someone who does.” Your eyes returned to your phone and upon swiping right, your eyebrows rose when your phone chimed and signaled that you had a match. “… and it looks like I just got one.”

You started messaging the boy you had matched with and very quick arranged a date with him. His name was Noah and he seemed to be very sweet. He had offered to take you out to a local restaurant that offered good food fare at a faster pace then a normal sit down restaurant. It would be far better than sitting through a formal sit down dinner only to find out that you didn’t like him… but you had your hopes up.

“Better start getting ready,” You mused to yourself, leaving your phone on the table as you got to your feet. “The least I can do is make sure I don’t look like I’ve spent the last two days bumming around a hotel room.” You headed to the bathroom to turn your mess of hair into something proper. Fingers quickly working your hair into something presentable, you started rummaging through the meager clothes Matthew had nipped from your dresser, searching for something that both looked and smelled, clean. You found a pair of jeans and a nice shirt to wear, surely proper for a dressed down date, and changed into them.

Humming to yourself as you entered back into the bedroom, you tapped your hands on your thighs and piddled around the room, neatening it up and straightening the occasional pillow and bedsheet. Matthew had his eyes trained on you the entire time, worry and dread wrapping around his little bird heart. He knew that Morpheus would be furious when he found out, but he also knew that you were angry and hurt by the Endless’ actions. You wanted to feel something other than hurt and anger, and going on a date could give you that.

“Oh he is going to flip his lid when he finds out,” Matthew worried to himself as you picked up your phone and started typing once more. A warm smile appeared on your face and you even let out a giggle. You were certainly looking happier and that was all Matthew needed to see to make up his mind. He’d watch over you on your date, technically not breaking his promise to Morpheus… but he wasn’t going to alert the Endless to your devices.

It was time for you to leave, so grabbing your purse, phone, and hotel key card, you left the room and headed for the nearest tube entrance. It felt nice to be out of the hotel room and the fresh cool air of the night gently brushed against your flushed cheeks. Certainly you were still very much angry with Morpheus’s treatment of you, but you didn’t want him to ruin your date. Hopefully by the time you made it to the restaurant, you would be in a better mood.

You took the tube several stations across London and popped up about a block from your destination. The streets were a bit more busy as you walked, but you did manage to get to the pop up restaurant with a few minutes to spare and took to scouring the drink menu. While you did feel like you needed alcohol, you knew that was probably not what you should have on a first date… especially when you had to take the tube home. A virgin daiquiri was calling your name.

“Hope I didn’t keep you waiting!” A cheerful voice spoke. You lifted your eyes from the drink menu to meet warm brown ones that perfectly matched the ones in the profile you had looked at earlier.

“No, not long, I got here a few minutes early,” You replied warmly, smiling at Noah. “You must be Noah, I’m Y/N. It’s really nice to meet you.”

Oh no, oh no, oh no, oh no.

Matthew knew he was in trouble the moment Morpheus had returned to the hotel room and found it empty. Then the raven felt Morpheus in the back of his mind, questioning his whereabouts. Morpheus had quickly learned that Matthew was sitting on a metal windowsill above a place where humans gathered to eat. You were sitting at a picnic table with food in front of you, a big smile on your face while you giggled and laughed. You were clearly enjoying yourself, and the source of your elation being a human sitting across from you, looking at you with eyes that told both Matthew and Morpheus, that he was into you.

Morpheus teleported himself to a nearby alley and called for Matthew sharply. The poor bird squawked and jumped in place at the sharp and firm summons. His master was not happy. Matthew flew into the air and coasted down into the alley where Morpheus grumpily stood, his anger simmering in a noxious cloud of oppression. Even his eyes were starting to reflect his mood, a silver glow flickering within the depths of blue.

“In my defense, I at least followed her because at this point in time I’m pretty sure that I’ll end up taking another book to the face if I try to tell her what to do…” Matthew said quietly to his simmering and gloomy master.

“What. Is. She. Doing.” Morpheus growled out, his face twitching in anger. Had he not given her explicit instructions to stay put? Matthew shuffled his wings nervously and hopped along his perch.

“Well, um, sir,” He stuttered out, his gaze dropping from nova like eyes. “I believe it is called a date? Couples go on them, or two people who want to get to know each other better, or—”

“I know what a date is Matthew,” Morpheus bit out. “Why is she on one!?”

You were having a fantastic time with Noah, you both had quickly figured out that you would make great friends, rather than romantic partners, but neither of you were bothered with that. It was nice to have someone to talk to and the pair of you had even started trying to further hook each other up on Tinder. At the moment, you were leaning across the table peering at Noah’s phone as he and you tried to decide if he should swipe left or right.

“Well at least she is admitting that she doesn’t have the slightest clue on how the tube works and just takes a taxi everywhere.” You mused with a slight snort.

“Yeah but it’s bloody expensive,” Noah commented. You shrugged and grinned at him, wiggling your eyebrows.

“Excellent point, you can teach her how to use the tube then!” You pointed out, your voice dripping with innuendo. “Come on, Noah, even you should see the chance in this!” Noah twisted his head to look at you, doe brown eyes staring into yours in close proximity. To anyone viewing you, you might look as if you were about to kiss. “No-ah~!” You called out in sing song. Noah’s eyes crinkled with laughter but before he could make a smarts reply to you, there was a crashing sound at the other end of the outdoor seating area. You both jumped apart, entirely startled, and looked to where the noise was.

A bus boy had dropped a bussing bin, spilling half eaten food on the ground and breaking a few plates and cups… the culprit? Matthew, who was currently making it look like he was going after the scraps of food. There was no way Matthew would willingly eat food off the ground, not when he was once human, but he sure did look like a raven going after food. Several waiters shooed Matthew off, who didn’t stay around for the aftermath of your wrath. Smart bird. Your eyes scanned the outdoor dining area and zeroed in on a lurking figure in the far shows.

Morpheus’s eyes glowed with the strength of a thousand supernovas, bright and brilliant, signaling just how irate he was with you at the moment. Your pettiness and spitefulness took over and you shifted your eyes back to Noah, leaning towards him once more as you smiled sultrily.

“Back to our conversation, darling, swipe right before I do it for you.” Noah rolled his eyes at you and did as you bade. Clearly Morpheus did not like it when you sought affection elsewhere, but it was not his place to be angry, not when he repeatedly pushed you away. This date might not have gone the way you thought it would, but there were still plenty of other Tinder dates you could have.

Date Published: 10/22/22

Last Edit: 8/17/23

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#morpheus x reader #dream the endless x reader #dream of the endless x reader #dream the endless #sandman x reader #dream of the endless #morpheus #the sandman #lord morpheus #the sandman netflix

[blueikeproductions]

JD’s personal belongings in the AU.

A lovingly documented binder of Dinosaurs Attack! cards arranged in order of the story. Still missing a few key moments of the story he is determined to finish.

Some personal items of his mother, Jocelyn, he keeps in a tiny box hidden from his father, who threw everything out when she died. Mostly movie ticket stubs from movies JD and Jocelyn saw when he was little, some jewelry, and a t-shirt of her favorite band. His most cherished yet cursed belonging is the key lock he wears, the only thing he found in the rubble of the building his mom suicided in. JD had a fight with his mom the day before over his dad, and JD blames himself for pushing Jocelyn to suicide. (It wasn’t his fault, as Jocelyn had already planned to do this anyway, and emotions were raw then.)

A sizable stack of 7-11 cups he collected from Las Vegas to Boston, each having a different style logo and promotion to show how long he’s been suffering.

A lava lamp.

A 70’s transistor radio he keeps by his bed.

A harmonica he usually keeps in his pocket and plays when he’s sad… which is often.

A pocket knife. Usually used for mundane purposes, though during a particularly bad mental health day, he considered suicide and attempted to cut himself, but instead just threw the blade at the wall of his room in frustration. The blade hung there for days until he finally took it down.

His gun. Originally he bought it for self defense due to Bud moving them into particularly dangerous crime ridden areas. It saw the most use in Hawkins and later Sherwood. He sleeps with it, keeping it under his pillow due to Hawkins PTSD and mild paranoia.

An old toy pop gun from an old Cowboy Halloween costume he had when he was five, from a memorable Halloween where he got a massive haul of candy.

Some assorted posters from his favorite bands and movies, like Big Fun, the Pixies, Westworld and Godzilla, though they’re beat up and torn from how often he’s had to take them down and hang them back up.

A small stack of classic literature and pulp science fiction, most of the former technically stolen from libraries of moves past. Moby Dick, Huckleberry Finn and Dr. Jekyll & Mr. Hyde are the most well read and worn, with him currently working through the original Jaws novel.

A small Transformers collection that was spurned on by Dan when they originally met. Besides Fangry, his collection is incomplete Special Teams mostly. Dinobots Slag (his favorite dinosaur happens to be the triceratops) and Snarl, Terrorcons Rippersnapper, Cutthroat and Sinnertwin (partly for their edgy names), Pretender Rattletrap, Cassettes Overkill and Slugfest, and 2/3 of the Triggerbots and Triggercons. (He’s missing Backstreet and Crankcase, and the flip out guns amuse him.) His holy grail are the Japanese exclusive Autobot Dinosaur Cassettes. When JD gets stressed or anxious, he’ll start fidgeting with whatever Transformer is in reach, transforming it over and over.

JD’s clothes are similar to what’s seen in the original movie, though he also has some 7-11 t-shirts, with a Pac-Man one he wears the most. He also has a fascination with McDonald’s Mac Tonight, and has some t-shirts related to him he wears around the house.

When JD moves in with the Bravermans at the end of the Westerberg adventure, most of his stuff was confiscated by authorities investigating fraud from his dad’s company when Bud died in a construction accident, leaving him with only a few clothes, books and figures he could comfortably carry in a duffel bag.

#heathers 1989 #heathers movie #blueike productions #blueike #heathers the musical #heathers au #jason dean headcanons #jd headcanons #jd heathers #heathers jason dean #transformers #heathers #heathers 1988

[severinesaloppe]

"Mama didn't raise no impolite witch" Vincent Griffith Fanfic Ep 1

Mélisse

The rush had simmered down about an hour ago. I skimmed through the last batch of orders from my desk at the soap shop, the amber lights attuned to the rainy day we were having in New Orleans today. On the radio, a potpourri of Haitian music from the sixties played in rotation bringing me back to those joyous moments growing up with my parents, all of it a memory now with a sour twist. 

The room smelled sweet, of cracked stems, and wild herbs picked from our garden outback. I carefully placed a rosemary leaf on the brown wax paper enveloping the order of soaps a client bought online earlier, and tied a string around it with my business card and a coupon which all were inscribed with the same cursive letters spelling Jardin de Mélisse. 

A knock at the door brought me to a halt. Standing at the door was Simoli, my cousin, who's been helping me run things around ever since he decided to stay in the states permanently. " Sa pou m fè avè w? What am I supposed to do with you?"

I rolled my eyes and tcheupsed, resuming the monotonous cycle I've been repeating for the three hours since we opened. I placed a series of glass bottles from my hibiscus and okra hairline into a shipping box and stuffed it with bubble wraps. Thank you note, close, tape, and repeat. 

"I'm almost done" 

" Yeah you said that about an hour ago when there was still a line at the register" 

I looked up at him, his face seemed refreshed, despite the long hours we've been pulling. He's wearing a coca cola red t-shirt, jeans and leather flip flops, his hair a tapered fro around his scalp. I think the change of pace and environment has been good for him. My shoulders relaxed a bit. The scissors in my hands suddenly weighed heavy, the piece of lavender between my fingers limp and awkward. I've been stuck in this room for far too long, my eyes were so adjusted to the darkness I could feel them disappearing into their own sockets, I needed a change of pace. 

" Fine" I slammed the metal scissors on the wooden desk. " i'm gonna go get lunch" i said, rising from my seat and scanning the room for my belongings. Wallet, umbrella. It was impossible for me to find anything in there, with all the pillows, the tapes, the boxes and endless inventory on the floor. The place was a fucking pig sty. I needed some fresh air, that's for certain. I scratched my head, gathering my things as I went and fighting Simoli's scrutinizing stare while he watched me rummage through my life like a raccoon digging through a pile of trash in the quarter. If he had any judgments, he said nothing. 

I threw my jean jacket on, and smoothed my hand over my tapered dress " do you wanna come with?" 

He snorted, as if I had insulted him, then threw his hand up " Mélisse, I got it from here, go". He shooed me away with a gesture of his hands, from the office, to the main floor of the shop. I stopped at one of the vintage mirrors on the wall, a fascinating relic i bought at a yard sale over two years ago, and was frightened by what i'd seen " jesus fucking christ" i muttered, digging through my bag for some lip balm. I glided it over my big lips, smoothing the layer of cracked skin that had been there before. I was immediately invaded with the scent of brown sugar and anise. Another one of my creations, not yet on sale anywhere, I was still doing a trial run on the product and was clearly failing. I sighed deeply. Simoli leaned on the counter, resting his chin in his palms

 " The AC company called. They wanna know if they can come in monday and take a look at the unit" 

I fiddled with my keys " Did they send you a price quote yet? " 

" Well, technically they have to come in and see what's wrong with it before we know how much all of this is going to cost" 

I exhaled " i uh, i don't know, let me think on it i'll get back to you" 

" Before monday" Simoli supplied, not a request, but a statement. 

I nodded. My stomach rumbled. " Do you want me to get you anything?" I interjected, moving the conversation towards something more fun, because all this AC stuff was making me anxious. I couldn't afford it, but I didn't know how to say it without causing my cousin to freak out. We were already behind on rent. The last thing I needed was for the two of us to pace around this place like anxious chickens. Leave it all to me to worry and figure out a way, Simoli deserved to just relax for a little while and not have to dive head deep into the travesty that was "the american dream" 

The boy flipped through pages of a messy white binder absentmindedly " No" 

I cocked my head to one side " Here i was thinking i was the only workaholic around here" 

His light brown eyes shot back at me, from this angle I could see how grandma's features have carved his cheeks, his forehead and fierce glare to be like hers. He sneered " Ou toujou ap pale kaka ou menm, you' re always talking shit" 

After agreeing on a meal for him, I walked out of the store, umbrella in hand, dodging the disgusting sewer water flooding the streets and made my way to Rousseau's. Not necessarily the idea of fresh air i had in mind but oh well. The small bar was situated in an old townhouse, with shuttle doors and peeling paint, identical to quite a few buildings here in New Orleans. A slow trepidation of old times amid the rise of modern, more expensive new developments. My sandals clattered on the wooden floor, the sight of dead leaves and debris clinging to my soles and feet, causing me to frown. I shook the water off from my umbrella and took a seat at the bar, on one of the stools that was designed far too small for people with big butts and thighs like mine. After a few trials and errors I finally felt comfortable enough to rest my bag on the metal hook beneath the bar. I pulled my now wet and frizzy orange coils on top of my head, tying them and fluffling the ends into a pineapple bun. 

A white man with blue eyes and an irish accent strolled through the swinging doors, noticed me and brought over a menu. " How ye doing? can i get you anything?" 

I ordered an IPA while I read through the small menu he had handed me. People sat in groups, some alone, all around me the room boiled with small chatter, rocks glasses knocking over wood, forks clicking and salt shakers clattering against beer bottles, hot sauce and so on. On my left was a mail lady, having a small cup of coffee and reading a newspaper, on my right was an old man slurping on a bowl of chicken soup, on a stool a few feet from him was another man, this one i had seen before, of about 6 feet tall, with umber skin and a bird tattoo clawing at his skin , having a bourbon, a small plate of french fries in front of him. 

The bartender slid a coaster in front of me and handed me my beer. The handsome man with the claw tattoo coaxed a book over his face. I can recognize a cover of Marcel Proust anywhere. He read with laser interest, his index finger bejeweled by a plain silver band, tracing his lips. 

" Miss…" 

" Yes" I blinked, " sorry long day" I laughed. When he didn't smile back, i cleared my throat and proceeded to say " i'll have a jambalaya to go, and uh " tapping my fingers against the hard menu cover, i quickly inspected the appetizer list "the pulled pork natchitoches and a small soup for here" 

He nodded, his expression solemn and bored as he took the menu back and shoved it inside an obscure shelf behind him. "Cash or card? " 

" Card" i thrusted the blue card in his hand

 " you want to keep the tab open?" 

My eyes shifted to the man again, this time he was brushing his beard, his eyes still glued to the pages of the book. I must've been staring a little too intensely because suddenly his brows knotted and his round eyes, two pools of deep brown, shaped so sensually looked back at me. My heart thudded. The bartender noticed, shifted his body to the left side of the room. I squeezed by glass, letting the chillness kiss my fingertips " No i'll close out" 

The bartender pursed his lips and nodded

 " very well then" 

I sipped on the orange brew in my glass, letting the tangy flavor flood my taste buds and slowly closed my eyes. Everything else around me, the pressure at the store, Simoli, the people inside the bar faded into the background. 

Vincent 

" People do not die for us immediately, but remain bathed in a sort of aura of life which bears no relation to true immortality but through which they continue to occupy our thoughts in the same way as when they were alive. It is as though they were traveling abroad. " 

I stumbled upon this quote at some point while reading a shriveled copy of The captive/ the fugitive which i found at the clearance section of my local bookstore earlier this week. I haven't sat down and read for pleasure in a long time— not since college which felt like ages ago— A capsule in time where i was young, an eager witch, stupid and burning with love for Eva. There was a time where i would hear that name and would automatically feel the pull of guilt, the hollowness of losing someone, by my own volition, my own ambition creeping up inside my chest, sinking me away from this reality into one where Eva's ghost was seeking vengeance for my wrong doings. 

That feeling is dead now, my love for the woman dead with it. The only thing left is the empty space that once blossomed—Healed shut—-At least i was trying to heal. Camille had put me in touch with a friend from school who ran her own practrice now. For the last two years since the Mikealsons been gone and Marcel took over as king, i've been sneaking weekly sessions with Judith on the other side of town, trying to unpack all the shit that went down. She's suggesting medication for the insomnia and nightmares, but i'm not gonna lie, i am a bit apprehensive. I wish Camille was still with us to discuss this with, i wish my friend was still here in general to breath in the peace we've been fighting so hard for, i miss her smile.

I wetted my tongue with some of the bourbon in my glass, now watered down. I signaled to Declan to spin me another round and went back to reading my book, hunting the wisdom the renowned author penned centuries ago, when suddenly i felt a prickle at the back of my neck, the knowing sense that someone's attention was on me. I swallowed the lump in my throat and raised my eyes. I noticed a woman sitting at the other end of the bar watching me. Instictvely her gaze veered towards the content in her glass, downing it halfway like a pro, then rested it on the coaster in front of her. There was a particular nervousness about her that didn't quite travel to her round face. Her cheekbones glistened not from sweat, but rather from the products she used to maintain her appearance— she looked like she really took care of herself. Her skin was deep as a harvest moon night, as if calla lillies themselves lived beneath it. Her hair was dyed serpia orange, fixed on top of her head in a way that complimented her features.

 She was striking. Was she a witch??? I don't think i've ever seen her around here before. With the new leadership and reforms i've implemented as regeant, i wouldn't be surprised if news traveled to neighboring states and was bringing outside witches into our walls. A weird sensation sliced through my chest, and managed to somewhat buzz around my shoulders and legs. I inhaled, exhaled, i needed to get my shit together. With this new awareness therapy had provided me with, it was hard at times to know if the sensations living in my body was weariness or something else—A warning or excitement? —The alertness of a Tremé witch or the fragility of a damaged man. I hung back, balancing this particular dilemma in my head while playing with my beard as though all the answers were hidden inside it. As tempting as this new witch was, i didn't necessarily think introducing myself to this new comer was a good idea. I felt no urge to interrupt her lunch break, god knows this is the last thing any woman needs right now. 

Declan rattled the silver shaker in one hand while pouring a golden brown liquid—my drink— into a clean glass. 

For the next hour, i've given up on trying to understand pretentious literature. Leave it to some old white man to throw a pile of random shit on the wall that barely make sense, and watch the world revere him as a literary genius. This shit can get exhausting. So i scrolled through facebook instead, when that wasn't enough, i cleared Freya's emails and text messages from my screen. The apologies were getting redundant. I didn't have anymore space for anymore Mikealson guilt, not now, not in the near future. She fucked up and put a teenager's life in jeopardy and now Davina is dead. This is her burden to carry, her shame to live with. I'm done being the errand boy, the witch for hire, the punching bag and everything in between. 

Once the woman finished her meal, Declan came back with an order neatly wrapped in a plastic bag and handed it to her. She gathered her things, thanked him, and put back a pocket size book she was reading earlier into her burgundy bag, then her notebook, her headphones. Not once had she turned to look at me since i caught her in the act. The haste in her movements made me rethink a last minute introduction over. Keep it cool, maintain good distance, there couldnt possibly be any harm in doing so right?  but before i could make up my mind and muster the courage,  she was already charging for the door, belongings in hand, her large hips swaying from here to there rythmically. The gold anklets she stacked around her ankles came to view. My gaze lingered in the poetry that was her curves, my throat felt tight and dry. I snapped myself out of it, averting my attention to the ceiling fan instead. My mama didnt raise no impolite witch. I shifted in my seat, cleared my throat and made sure no one else had caught me looking—-no, lusting over this beautiful stranger. I had a reputation to uphold, that is of a widower, a regeant who wielded strong power, a leader of his community. Do leaders not allow themselves the distraction of entertaining the pleasures of the flesh?  Can good leadership coexist with the simplicity of desire? 

When her hands pressed against the dusty shuttles and disappeared behind it, i mumbled a silent prayer, ever so intimate to the universe, to let me see her again.  

Photo credit: Dorcas E Jacob on Pinterest

#black writers #tvd fandom #fanfic #vincent griffith #vincentgriffithfanfic #the originals #black tumblr #writblr #fanfiction #the originals fanfiction #the originals fandom #black witch

[unknownjpegs]

cards

Benji kicks the brown-clad body. 

“Not ours.”

“Ours either.” Xavier pants, tossing the crowbar to the side with a clang. It splatters brain matter, gore, and a wet splash of crimson across the floor in a graceful arc. “Damn, his form was really bad.”

“Yeah, s’why I thought he was with your lot.” 

Xavier barks out a laugh, wipes his bloody cheek near-clean on his shoulder. “Fuck you.”

“Fuck you.” 

They blink at each other; two toothy, unhinged grins. Benji isn’t the first to break that prolonged contact, and it makes him a little wild to see Xavier’s cheeks gone rosy-pink after just a few seconds. Really wants to call attention to it — he’d just been looking, anyway.

“He fell on our game.” Xavier pouts. “Or else I would have won.” He crouches, and flips over a blood-flicked card, holds it up between index and middle fingers for Benji to evaluate.

“See? Queen of spades. Royal flush, or whatever.”

Benji snorts. “We were playing rummy.”

“You, maybe.” Xavier scoffs, as if he hadn’t sat and explained the rules himself. He wobbles the Queen between his fingers. “I was playing go fish.”

“Explains why I wasn’t getting any matches, then, doesn’t it?”

“Maybe you’re just fucking awful at cards.” Xavier bats his eyelashes. 

Benji steps carefully around the body, which really is mysteriously nondescript. Uniform all brown, no patches in sight, but clearly kitted. Espionage, maybe, or an infiltrator, or somebody just looting. But he’d rushed the door, like the room they’d selected for the meet-up was known. That makes him anxious, but it’s hard to let it curl full and cold in his gut. No space for it, the way Xavier is eyeing him all coy. 

“You tryna get some, or what?” Benji stops in front of him, swallowing hard when Xavier leans forward and rubs his nose against his hip. “Cuz there are more efficient ways of doin’ that than insulting me.”

“Are there?” The card flutters to the floor, face-up. Xavier rocks back in his crouch. Big hands on both knees, grunting as he pushes up. “You should be, like, so so so specific.”

Benji’s breath catches in his chest as he rises, clearly making a slow show of it. They’re close, and maybe he’d had been purposeful about that. A smirking mouth brushes the edge of his shirt, plush bottom lip catching on the hem and pulling it up slightly. He doesn’t so much kiss as he does rub his face into every accessible spot in Benji’s armor, against his dusty shirt between straps and the ammo sling and armor straps. 

Those green eyes stay locked on his, heatedly dancing mischievous — gotcha smug and brightened, because there’s no hiding how it makes Benji’s breath come shallow, his eyes dilating dark. 

Xavier rises; sternum, chest, eye level and…keeps going. Up and up, until that wolfish grin has to be tuned downwards so Benji can see it. It’s not fear that sets his heart racing, but it feels like the same quick-cold. Real restless, drumming in his ears.

Fucking hell, but he needs to examine whatever weird quirk makes him wild over it. That it’s enough; Xavier simply standing there in front of him, towering, makes his neck break out in a sweat. 

His fingers twitch.

“We have time?” Xavier breathes. They’re out past the fighting, no reason to be quiet. But his voice pitches down there regardless, softly private in a Saturday-morning-under-the-duvet way that makes Benji shiver again. There he goes, thinking about that sorta shit. 

Been happening more often. Sometimes he wakes up hard from some silly dream where they’d done nothing but lay side by side and pillow talk, rather than do any of the fun, explicit bits leading up to it.

“Yeah,” he says, because they have got a little time. Checks his watch, pretends to contemplate. “S’only half past sit down in that chair so I can suck your dick.”

Xavier’s eyebrows raise, the soft smile faltering for a brief second before it curls filthily. “Ooh. Okay. Is that a new unit of measurement? Should I search up conversions?” 

Benji rolls his eyes. Sets the tips of his fingers to the center of Xavier’s chest and pushes until he stumbles back a step. 

Xavier, just like with his crouch, makes a show of it: windmilling his arms and kicking his legs out. Except there’s the slackening of his mouth, the self-satisfied grin wiped clean at being shoved about.

“It was the insults, right? I beat your ass at cards and it made you hard.” Xavier falls heavily into the chair, which creaks threateningly under his frame. Spreads his legs invitingly. Benji stands between them, hands on his shoulders. 

“Uh-huh.”

Those green eyes dart down to his waist, a few strands of unruly red hair dangling from the side of his head as he tilts it. 

“Are you?” Xavier asks Benji’s lap, staring like he’s got x-ray vision. “Hard, I mean?” 

“A bit,” he admits. And then because he can imagine the expression he’ll get for it, goes: “Might have a wank while I do it, if you don’t mind.”

“Ohmygodplease.”

“That a yes?” Benji touches two fingers to his chin, which has suddenly pointed upwards at the ceiling.

“I — I’m gonna die, dude.” His nose scrunches. “Oh, speaking of. There’s still a body in the corner, by the way,” Xavier points out. Even sat, his head is level with Benji’s chest. Though it’s a complete reversal of the positions from a moment before, it fills him with the same heated madness. 

“Forgot about him.”

“Rude.” Benji says dryly. “Snitch on us, will he?” 

“Hey everybody,” Xavier whisper-shouts, “this fuckin’ British guy is gonna— oh, goddamn.” 

Benji’s anything but noiseless as he drops to his knees, palms sliding from Xavier’s chest downwards. Bites off both gloves and then replaces the touch with hands on those spread thighs, squeezing them purposefully. Seeking a reaction, which he gets — 

“British guy is…ffffuck. Gonna,” Xavier lifts his hips up, teeth digging into his bottom lip as his voice trails off distant and small. “Gonna suck my dick, oh Jesus, wow you’re really serious about it, huh?” 

“Yeah.” Benji chuckles warmly, muffled where he’s jerked the plain black t-shirt over a pale stomach. He’d get on with it, usually, but…instead he puts his mouth to that wash of flesh, right over particularly engrossing clump of freckles. Bites down: takes the loose skin where it bunches and sets his teeth in, marks the spot with a bruising suck that starts to purple almost immediately. 

“I’m feeling very. Meat-like. Tenderized.” Xavier hiccups. 

Benji watches the spot grow dark, eyes lidded and his tongue pressed to his bottom lip. 

Mine.

It cracks across his thoughts. Reminds him of the zip of a bullet train through the countryside with its speed and immediate race into the distance.  

There’s an extended pause.

“B-Benji —?” Xavier starts, trailing into a question and then a ragged moan. 

Because Benji’s not gentle about it. Desperate, actually, and rough to get his pants down his thighs. His nails scrape at the delicate flesh in the crease of Xavier’s hip, leaving a line of welting red streaks. 

Mine, again, on schedule. Another, mine, because that huge body is whining and shifting already; Benji has not yet managed to get the fucker’s trousers out of the way.

In a similar vein, his mouth is watering, too. So he supposes that’s turnabout, right?

He can still taste the dusty salt-sweat of Xavier’s skin on his tongue; even as he yanks his briefs down and takes him in hand, he’s overcome with the urge to lean back up and suck another bruise. 

Xavier, for his part, is already hard in his hand. 

“Fuckin’ hell, don’t tell me this is about the dead body,” Benji snickers. He pumps Xavier slow at first, dry-palm and a mean to hear those whines, so the breath leaves his broad chest faster, making him pant pretty and high.

“It is not it’s the...was the,” Xavier pushes long fingers through his hair, licks his lips, “the getting on your knees part. And also the looking at you part. And maybe a little bit of the — huh, oh fuck — the hickey, thing.”

Benji lays his head cheek on Xavier’s thigh, glancing up the length of his body towards his cherubic-pretty fucking face. Finds that gaze, holds it as he strokes. “The looking at me part?” 

Xavier blinks rapidly, and the way his chest visibly stutters on the next breath has Benji grinning. And that has his sides pausing a second too long on the next inhale, another stutter like he’s forgotten how to breathe at all.

“Wow,” Xavier says, laughing airily when Benji licks all that pooling saliva up his palm and returns it to his cock. “Oh fuck. You think there’s a cooler way to go than death by blowjob?”

“Probably. Too bad you won’t be finding out, ‘ey?”

Benji’s chuckling as he shifts up and fits an arm between the back of the chair and Xavier’s arched spine, tugging him forward for a better angle. He whines, naturally, and the noise slips higher and higher the closer Benji leans. It tapers off into a wheeze as he properly gets his mouth around the reddened tip. 

The fingers in his hair tighten at the first touch of his tongue. His vision whites at the edges a bit. Not in a good way. He thinks very briefly of a harsh pull. About not getting enough time to breathe —

Benji frowns and pulls away, string of saliva between his tongue and the throbbing head of Xavier’s cock. He sucks his cheeks, collecting it off the side of his mouth, and then glances up.

Xavier watches him with huge eyes, dark-rimmed, that ring of shiny-leaf green nearly gone. He has the feeling he could make any sort of request right now, but with all of the things he wants to put forth, to offer, what he gets out is:

“Not so hard?”

Xavier nods rapidly, chin touching his chest, and lets him pull a pale wrist back towards the crown of his skull. Long, calloused fingers stroke gently, tug gently, and it’s so much fucking better. No white to his vision, no distanced memories.

He’s motivated to make it good, because the champagne burst of warmth in his chest feels good. The urge comes to share that, very suddenly, so he sets to it. 

Benji doesn’t have him beat by a long shot, not at this. But his cheeks heat up, not even at the deliciously sore stretch, because he really likes doing it for Xavier. Likes how he gets noise after noise, plucked out with little effort. Praise and sweats and curious, slurred phrases he barely parses the more he sucks and strokes just as Xavier prefers.

The salty burst of fluid overrides the lingering taste of skin, has his mouth pooling that much wetter and makes it — fuck, but it gets a little disgusting. Messy. So much so that he feels a trail of saliva slip down his chin, slide from the corners of his mouth. He doesn’t even care; lets the slick noises of his hand and mouth get loud. Makes him shiver, listening to those breathless, punched-out grunts and yeah, yeah, please, yeahs. 

And before — before what? he thinks distantly —  he’d never been keen to get on his knees. Doing this, in particular, made him feel debased. And not the fun sort, where the manic and freeing pleasure prompts him to get loud and bite pillows or a freckled shoulder or tug red —whatever. The demeaning way. 

But, Benji considers, eyes slipping open to find Xavier’s, it’s him. It’s him. He’ll make an exception, and not the kind that has him feeling feeling guilty to have conceded to, afterwards. 

“That’s good. H-ah, that is…shit. Very fucking good, Benji, oh, oh.”

I like it because you like it, he finds himself thinking, and it’s the first time that it's ever felt safe to let that particular sentence crystalize. Has a zip of lust flitting through him hot instead of reticent and chilled. He likes it because the fingers in his hair are soft and reverent pets in favor of callous, selfish yanking. 

Benji moans. He’s not sure where it comes from, but it’s got his rib cage fragile, like it’s rattling through him. 

“Fuck. Benj —Benji, yeah, that’s s’fuckin’ good. Your mouth, I, more, please —” Xavier rambles, slurring the words with his heavy accent until Benji can barely make sense of them. But the compliments are enough, he can feel it, racing up his spine and making him shiver. Proper hard, now. 

Xavier has got his head back, tilted at the ceiling, and when it dips falls back and sees Benji looking up, his eyelashes flutter. “Ah! Oh, okay. Man you are…” he laughs, chest jumping. “Youuuu—“

Benji pulls off, panting hard against the side of the cock in his hand. It twitches, and Benji gives it a thanks for being patient, take a number be right back sort of nudge. Gotta talk. Tell Xavier:

“Want it on my face.”

“What the fuck?” Xavier hisses, stomach jumping. His hand shoots up to his chest, scrabbling at his vest and then falling away with a defeated whine. “Oh, shit.” 

Benji doesn’t really know where it comes from either, but he means it. Means it really fucking bad, and he wants it just as much, now that the image is there it’s stuck, and he — he…

Well.

He really can’t help it, the desperate noises that come out of him, after that. Nearly as needy as Xavier’s, who is whining absolutely pitifully. Rhythmic, high noises from his stomach as Benji gets a little mean. He just…he wants it, and he might be demanding: give it to me, c’mon, Xavier, c’mon gorgeous, give it to me. Worse things too, at least under his breath, as his hand passes roughly over the slick, messy length.

Even when Xavier gasps, hunches over Benji as it tears through him, the hands in his hair stay loose. A gentle tangle around fingers, a pet over his skull.

Xavier flops back into the chair with a ragged moan, slumps a little as he cums. The noise cuts totally silent and Benji feels the thigh under his palm flex and then shake. Real fucking intense one, and the pride of that, the possessive little monster that squeezes his heart in its clawed grip, makes him smirk.

“S’fucking beautiful,” Benji praises, voice revealingly hoarse. His tongue still feels heavy. The look on Xavier’s as he offers himself over to it, the good damage done: blissed out and brow creased, mouth slack, eyes…fuck. Eyes rimmed all glossy, watery. 

That makes Benji’s face heat more than the release that lands across his cheek, his mouth, a spot on his jaw. 

“Jesus Christ,” Xavier whines. He tries to pet hair away from Benji’s forehead, but his hands are clumsy and end up shoving at his temple a little hard. 

“Yeah sure, give him all the credit.” Benji says, rubbing the back of his knuckle over his cheek and collecting some of the fluid up. “Did all the work and he gets the thank you card?”

“I will buy you the biggest thank you card. All of them, ever. I’ll even let you win at rummy-gin-poker-go-fish for the rest of fucking time.” Xavier breathes, trying to steady it. He’s still got one hand in his hair. When Benji lifts his finger to his mouth, lips parted, it tightens a little and Xavier whimpers: “Mercy, dude, holy shit.”

And what else is he supposed to do but clean the rest of it up? He’s got an audience; Xavier’s eyes follow the movements like he’s got a laser pointer to them.

He nearly gets all of it before he’s being tugged up, arms around his shoulders, and pulled into a filthy kiss. Xavier’s tongue on his immediately, licking into his mouth, then pulling away with an audible noise and laving just as wet and hot along his cheekbone. Snuffling dramatically all along his jaw, down to his neck and back up with warm puffs of warm air.

Benji snorts, miffed at the tickle and how it makes his face warm, and pushes at Xavier’s chest.

“Missed a spot.”

“Mate, s’all you. Fuckin’ hound.” He tries to pull away again, but Xavier chases after, tightening his arms. It makes him wheeze out a laugh so loud it echoes in the room.

He could get out of the hold, he thinks. Just a quick duck and shove, but… But their chests aren’t just touching. They’re pressed very firmly together, intimate even with the vests in the way. And they both pause, then, as if it’s a tandem realization. How closer they are. All tight together. Benji’s struggling weakly washed away and Xavier…

Staring. He’s staring. 

“Still got some?” Benji asks. He’s quiet, throat tight in a more distinct way than that tell-tale, memorably hot ache. 

Xavier shakes his head slowly, eyes ping-ponging. He adjusts the hold he’s got on Benji to slide hands up the nape of his neck, back into the sweaty curls. Uses that to pull him in for another kiss. First to his neck, and then up to his jaw in a purposeful trail. When their lips touch it’s…shockingly none of the residual heat. Fervid and hungry, still, but softer. Slow. Like they’re long on time they haven’t got. And…and — the grip he uses to cradle Benji’s head, guide him this way and that for a more thorough taste? It’s gentle. It’s gentle. 

#writing #ua #bp #xw #bp x xw #core au

[moemammon]

I randomly started thinking about Mammon having a dakimakura because he seems the type to hold something when he sleeps,

But THEN I was like "Nah he’d think it's cringe unless it's like a fucking Goldie dakimakura" and now I'm laughing really hard because like

I'm just imagining a pillow featuring an illustration of a fucking credit card laying on a bed and mammon being like "I'll take 50 😳🥵💦"

#flip the pillow over and it's got the back of the card on t #I'm gonna draw this maybe #I'm gonna cry #this is Mammon and he needs YOUR help #he needs you to tell him your card number and the three digits on the back #obey me #obey me shall we date #shall we date obey me #obey me! #obey me! shall we date? #shall we date? obey me! #obey me mammon #obey me! mammon #obey me crack #obey me shitposts #obey me art #obey me fanart #obey me scenarios #obey me headcanons #obey me imagines #obey me writing

[chil2de]

Your sharing a bed with the JJK men hc's were incredible 😩 special mentions for Megumi's bed head, Nanami being a secret cuddle bug, and Yuuta having to drink both iced coffees (that fucking sent me fjdndnfd I could picture it so clearly).

You're super talented so could I, er, possible get a NSFW version? 👀 💳💥💥💥💳💳💥💳💥

Thank you so much 🥺💕

hello anonie!!! thank you dear i’m so glad you liked them!! please the credit card emojis had me cackling LMFAOOOO you really made my whole day out here!!!(THE ICED COFFEE WAS MY FAVOURITE PART TOO)

well i managed to hit the max amount of characters allowed in a tumblr post with five characters alone so i’m going to have to split this up into several posts. it just kinda happened ig

characters in this post: itadori yuuji, gojo satoru, okkotsu yuuta, fushiguro toji (megumi was supposed to be here but i had to reserve him for next post😔)

this work is nsfw. if you’re new here, please read my disclaimer before proceeding. thank you and enjoy!

based off of this post

itadori

- itadori would prob be a ‘deer in the headlights’ if you woke him up in the middle of the night

- but after that? shit, he’s so nice to you. so kind and generous for his baby girl. whether he’s fucking you ‘cause he thinks you might be able to sleep after an orgasm or there’s just an incessant desire for him- doesn’t really matter all that much to itadori. he loves you either way :)

- gets horny so easily LMFAO

- would 100% dick you down if you asked him to and i like to think that he still keeps his really sweet personality during sex cause aaaa he would be so soft and reassuring

- hardcore dom yuuji sounds sexy as all hell but let’s be real… this man won’t kill a fly and apologises for stepping on ants. only exception being angry sex but overall reserving hard dom for sukuna :)

you pepper tiny kisses onto itadori’s face, treating him with the utmost care like handling fine china. his skin feels so soft against your lips, and he smells very faintly of milky soap. there’s some traces of brand cologne on his shirt, as well as his natural scent.

“yuuujiii-“ you coo, blowing air very gently. when he doesn’t stir, you run your fingertips through a bundle of his cotton candy tainted hair. it evokes a reaction from him, so you continue to press him.

“y-uuuu-ji!”

after a few moments, itadori lets out a soft whine before grumbling incoherent blabber. “i won’t eat the pineapple! kugisaki will scream at me!”

you giggle before prodding him again, when finally he relents and jolts awake, eyes wide and mouth slightly parted at how close your face is to his.

“‘s it morning yet?” he wrinkles his nose, stifling a yawn. you emit a hum in thought before wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling you into him. itadori squeaks in surprise when he feels you latch your lips onto his neck, suckling and carefully breaking the bonds underneath his sensitive skin. his moan comes out groggy, still laced with sleep.

“that drives me crazy, you know that, right?” itadori laughs, though his voice comes as a wobble.

“i know. and they look so good on you too, hm?” you giggle, caressing one hand from his neck and then down to the hem of his shirt. your fingertips flutter against his bare skin and he shivers physically and audibly. you smooth your palm flat along his chest, dragging your nails carefully against his muscles.

“kinda.. wanna.. go to.. sleep.. but i don’t.. wanna fall asleep…” itadori mumbles against his pillow. the fabric muffles most of it, but there’s a strain in his voice that leads you to believe he’s moaning lightly. guess after sukuna ripped his heart out, this area hasn’t been quite the same, huh?

“so? then go to sleep, yuuji. i’ll be fine-“ “-no way! i gotta take care of you”

“so why don’t you?”

“‘m going to! i was asleep just half a minute ago!”

“and besides-“

he shifts himself up into a sitting position, leaning his back against the headrest. itadori opens his arms, motioning for you to crawl on top of him. without any haste, you clamber over his built frame, ghosting just over the print of his hard dick.

“not that i mind but- we did, you know, in the morning already-“ “oh, shit, sorry- it’s totally fine if you don’t want t-“ “-just messing with you!”

itadori pulls your neck down and gifts you with the same treatment you were offering him earlier. his tongue is hot and wet against your skin and you can already feel the precipitation forming at the back of your knees. calloused yet tender hands smooth around your waist and he smooths his palms over your shoulder blades.

after itadori’s satisfied with the mark he left, you can’t help but groan a little into his mouth when his lips suddenly claim yours. he drinks you up, relying solely on your taste like he’s drowning and you’re the air he needs.

itadori takes his sweet time cherishing you, or rather it’s still his state of half slumber, but you can feel a dull ache prick your abdomen. you scratch up his shirt, motioning for him to take it off. you’re unsure what comes over you, but shit, you don’t want him- you need him.

“heyheyhey, ‘s okay. don’t worry, i got you.”

“i’ll take care of you.”

“just relax, okay? i got this.” he only coos with sweet reassurances, peppering small kisses and handling you with the utmost precision.

you whimper, balancing your palms flat against his abdomen for additional support as you sink down onto itadori’s cock. he lets out a hum of content, forehead bumping against yours as he allows you to adjust.

“you good?” he murmurs after a few moments, capturing a few strands of your hair in between his fingertips. you nod meekly and itadori hisses out a breathy exhale. he’s sure that if he goes rough as shit you might end up more broken than being able to sleep, so he screws his eyes shut and exhales to maintain his composure.

blazing hot lips scrape against your ear, and his voice comes out in a husky tone.

“tell me how you want it.”

by the lords of everything and all that is holy, itadori only chants the same phrase over and over in his mind. it’s a miracle that he’s able to think straight with all the blood rushing to his cock. he’s more than happy to take it slow, reward you with slow and long strokes while he showers you with high praises. but he can’t ignore the twitch that he experiences when he envisions that pretty lil fucked out face of yours, all messy and ruined for him.

you mutter that you have no preference, that you don’t care because anything he’ll do for you is perfect, and it only gives him a beaming smile at your words.

itadori grabs the scrunched up ball of his shirt that he was wearing before ripping the fabric into half with his bare teeth. you watch his eyebrows perk when he notices how fucking hot you just found that, evident with the way your walls fluttered around him.

“here, babe.”

you part your lips and he stuffs the fabric into your mouth, there’s a little bit of excess hanging out, but he reminds you that you look sexy as hell either way, on top of his dick like that with your hands on his chest, legs spread, face flushed and ready for him.

“don’t wanna be wakin’ anyone else up.”

yuuta

this man is about to end my whole career

yuuta wouldn’t bring it up on his own accord just because… respect.. and he doesn’t want to pressure you or make you uncomfortable into doing things you’re not ready to.

it’s kind of a gray area for him because he doesn’t relish the idea of bringing up sensitive and/or extremely awkward topics so he really said ‘i’ll leave it up to future me’s problem’

but holy shit. let me absolutely tell you.

the second you hint at it? anything of the sorts? 0 to 100. he is FREAKY you cannot tell me he’s innocent just LOOK at the man

can make you scream with ease. all that practice he’s been doing with handling katanas? he doesn’t need his dick to make you cum. will gladly lick up your leftover juices and remark with a smile on his face how ‘it tastes good, angel’

similarly to itadori, i think he would be sweet and patient when asking for your preferences, etc, but after that you’re gonna have to find something to bite onto

“and? what’d you tell her?” yuuta remarks from over his fanned out deck of three cards. his gaze flickers to you as he awaits a response before using his index and middle finger to lay down a +4 card.

“red, by the way.”

you huff and glare at your boyfriend, picking up four cards and attempting to hold them in such a way that they don’t all fall and rattle to the floor. truth be told? you’re seriously a sore fuckin’ loser. you don’t know how he does it, but you’ve never managed to win a game against yuuta.

“i told maki-san that it’s her problem, not mine. if she’s so pressed about people taking them, why does she keep noodles stored in the fridge? really, noodles in the fridge? they’re really spicy as well! made my nose run like hell.” you scoff in distaste, throwing down a random red card on the pile.

“you totally ate them didn’t you?” yuuta giggles, beaming you a wide smile.

“also.. told her that i didn’t see them instead but- yeah.”

“aren’t you worried she’ll find out? oh, and, uno.”

“she might just beat me up to be honest, and, uno, you say? not anymore, love.” you sneer, throwing down a +4 card.

“i want green.”

“i’d protect you.” yuuta states over his cards. you feel like cracking a joke and laughing, but there’s absolutely zero implication on his facial features to show that he’s joking. that, and his serious tone, of course.

you flip your cards down onto the table and yuuta squeaks, pointing towards them.

“uh- i can see your cards-“

“it’s okay, not like i was gonna win anyway.”

at this point, yuuta’s mind races a hundred miles an hour. he’s panicking, blood pressure raised, heart thumping and throat clogged. oh, shit, did he do something wrong? did he upset you? is it ‘cause he said he’d protect you with no regards to the fact that you’re perfectly capable of fending yourself off against maki? fuck, he’s such a god damn screw-up, can’t even take care of his girlfriend correct-

“hey.”

your fingertips slide around his neck, hands interlocking at the base of his head. your thighs balance on his lap and you straddle him, legs either side of his.

he can’t help but hitch his breath, holding it in as though one wrong move and you would dematerialise.

“what’re you thinking about in that head of yours?”

whether you’re referencing his mini panic attack just now, or if you’re referring to all the multiple times he’s battled just bending you over and railing the absolute shit out of you, there’s not much room for debate when you brush your clothed sex up against the print of his dick.

yuuta snakes his slender hands around your throat, holding it in place. you can feel the arousal pool and wash over you, and you’d be more than surprised if you hadn’t soaked through your clothes.

he lets out a breathy laugh, devastating your stomach with butterflies due to how attractive he sounds. yuuta’s soft lips brush the shell of your ear and his other hand moves to rest on your waist,

“why don’t i show you?”

before you can utter a tease something along the lines of “show me what? how you’re too scared to hit me in bed?” you’re already down, flipped over and bent over the table you and yuuta were using moments prior ago for uno. the cards have splattered all over the wooden floor and you only hiss in discomfort as the cool surface scratches against your delicate skin. your boyfriend towers over you, leaning down as his torso clicks into place against your back. even through his titanium white jacket, you can feel his calm and collected heartbeat. he rests his head on your shoulder, nudging his face into you.

“don’t scream, okay? or, try not to, at least-“

his warm fingertips ghost over the curve of your ass, where he pinches the skin there before delivering a loud slap. you squeak, back arching as you jolt from the action. he proceeds by grabbing the inside of your thighs, long middle finger hoisting around your underwear and pulling it to the side. he makes note of the red lingerie you’re wearing and gives you a small chuckle, peppering a kiss to the side of your face.

“-unless, of course-“

“-you’d prefer everyone hear me fuck you stupid.”

“safe word’s blue, angel. i love you and thank you.”

truth be told, you were never sure what to expect from yuuta. hell, you’d never really seen the man’s dick before, sure you caught glimpses in the morning whenever he’d wake up but it’s really not the same. nothing in the world can compare to the first time you felt his piping hot tip brush up against your slicked cunt. and it was embarrassing, actually, the way your pussy was seething for him already.

with a firm hold on your tailbone, yuuta utilises his lower body strength to ram his dick all the way inside. there’s a garbled and choked moan that hisses from you when you feel your walls wrap and deform around the girth of yuuta’s dick. you whine even more so when you can physically feel a thick vein that decorates his shaft.

“the mirror.” yuuta commands in a low tone, redirecting you to glance at the same mirror you’d always fantasised about him fucking you in front of.

his eyes are half lidded, riddled with concentration. it reminds you of that feral and focused gaze he gets during serious battles.

“don’t look at me. look here.”

you trail the outline of yuuta’s arm veins as a result of him rolling his uniform sleeves up; following his v line that points towards his dick. you can only gawk in awe when you realise you’ve taken him to the base of his shaft.

his gaze locks with yours for a split second and he snaps his hips out until just about his tip is visible inside your cunt.

and shit, if his pretty pink cock isn’t the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen, especially with that attractive curve. you’re sure the gesture is just to wind you up, but you can’t help but swoon at him showcasing his pride to you.

“so- mmhf- pretty-“ you whine, words jumbled and breath caught when he slams his dick inside without any prior warning. you can only shriek in exclamation when his tip bruises your cervix, and you’re unsure whether you lament the sensation or not.

he only gives you a cheerful hum, reminding you of his usual cheery disposition. it’s not until then that you realise how much of a fucking beast he’s acting right now.

“right? i’ll put it to good use, i promise.”

gojo

- i know we’re all thinking the same thing here lmfao

- trying to sleep? good for you, now, open your legs for satoru.

- oh you can’t sleep? atta girl, down on your knees for satoru.

- bye i can literally imagine gojo saying some dumbass shit like “think you were trying to sleep but i couldn’t help but think how good my dick would look down your throat like that. sorry, love, you’re not sleeping tonight.”

you blink your eyes in turn with the cicadas chirping aside, stifling a yawn. everything around you down to the very last detail screams at you to sleep, but you just cannot. from the pitch black night that floods the room obscurely, to gojo’s even and quiet breathing beside you. you’ve tried it all. you’ve counted an excess amount of sheep, you’ve tensed and relaxed your body more than you can remember. hell, no matter how many times you’ve flipped the pillow you always seemed to feel less exhausted each time.

you can’t watch netflix, because you’ve binged all your favourite shows. it’s not that you’d wake gojo up because, who cares? by the time you finish scrolling through the endless lists it’ll be time to get up.

you ponder over the things you can do, continuing to subconsciously blink furiously. that is until gojo makes note of your stupid actions and starts giggling like a high schooler at his first sleepover.

“what the hell are you doing?” he snorts, cackling into the pillow like it’s the best joke he’s heard for quite some time.

“shut up, satoru. i’m trying to sleep you ass.” you tut at him, berating him for ruining your divine concentration.

gojo audibly shifts onto his stomach, his right arm crosses over the back of his head as he lazily rests his palm onto his scalp. the other arm preoccupies itself by landing it smack bang onto your chest, fingers wandering up to cup your breast.

“satoru, huh? that’s daddy for ya” he remarks, still giggling in a state of half asleep.

“uh-huh. goodnight.” you dismiss him and his nonsense.

“just go take a shower. always helps me whenever i can’t sleep.”

“hm? you’re giving me actual good advice and being a normal boyfriend? i think i might be asleep already, this is the best dream ever.” you remark sarcastically, prying gojo’s glued wrist off of your breast and sitting up. you could go for a shower, actually. you’re not sure why but it’s always so therapeutic to take one at night rather than the morning.

“huuuh? how could you say that? you’re so mean, (y/n)-chaan! i offered you my love and the world and this is how you repay m-“

“-goodnight satoru. i love you.”

“don’t think professing your love for me will change my mind! i’m still upset at you right now, young lady!” gojo shouts from over his pillow, exclaiming and irritating you in the way he knows how to best.

“yeah, yeah. okay.” you mumble softly to yourself, bearing a wide grin from ear to ear nonetheless.

when you move to crank the water on in the shower, you realise that you didn’t bring along a change of clothes. you momentarily pop back into the bedroom to ransack the drawer for anything that you can find.

“are you back to apologise for being so mean to me?” gojo whines and you can see the pout evident on him even when it’s pitch black.

“no, i’m just here for clothes, satoru.”

you hear him mumble something but it’s muffled by the sheets he’s underneath so you don’t heed any attention to it and resume in taking a shower to help keep your insomnia at bay.

with a ginger step and a small ‘oopf’, you heave yourself into the large shower that only a headass like gojo would bother buying. it’s reminiscent to what a hot tub looks like on the inside, with surrounding jets practically in a full 360 degrees. the things so steep that there’s a small step up in front of the shower outside the actual structure. it must have cost quite the fortune.

you reach in for the built in shelf to grab ahold of some of your toiletries as you allow the water to fall in a gentle sprinkle, almost like rain. there’s an audible squeeze reminiscent to trying to get the last ounces of ketchup as you apply some body gel to your hands, lathering it up.

despite standing, the warmth of the water leads your muscles to feel less tense. the only noteworthy downside is that the running water is tremendously loud. how on earth is gojo sleeping through all that racket?

slender fingertips ghost over your inner thighs. you can feel his wet and sturdy chest in place against your spine.

“surprised to see me?”

“you know i can’t let my baby talk shit like that.”

really? that’s his issue at hand here?

“so which is it?”

“acting like an intolerant brat because you’re tired or ‘cause you wanna get dicked down?”

gojo loops his arm underneath your leg, bending it up. you almost topple over in the process and you lay one hand flat against the tile.

“don’t answer that. sometimes it’s so obvious that you’re such a whore for my dick.”

“huh?! what the shit are you saying?” you snap at how correct he is.

gojo yanks your face back, digging his fingers into your cheeks as he forces you to face him. it almost sends your neck into two pieces, straining to look back at him.

“oh, really princess? just the other day you were begging me to fuck you”

“remember that? couldn’t wait so you rode me in the car? you know, baby, all you gotta do is ask.”

your legs tremble and psyche wobbles when he pries your mouth open with his thumb, promptly before spitting into it.

“don’t bother with the bullshit. i’ll play the games, not you.”

he drags his hard cock against the curve of your ass, slapping it against you.

“i don’t think i feel like fuckin’ you right now.” gojo sneers, humming sardonically. his lips quickly latch onto yours when you spin around to meet his gaze. like the fucker he is, gojo moans and whines into the kiss- lips ravaging you whole and tongue capturing your essence.

“baby girl, i was gonna let you top me. you know i don’t let anyone do that.”

his long middle finger prods against your cunt, forcing itself in with ease.

“damn, you’re soaked. you really wanted to milk me dry that bad?”

you hate him. hate him so fucking bad. he flashes you that attractive smile of his, azure eyes sparkling and snow white hair disturbed with water.

gojo pulls his finger out before sucking onto it in front of you, lapping all the excess arousal off.

“i’m not playing with you tonight.”

toji

- i literally don’t even need to say anything here

- just be sure to make a hospital check up appointment or something

- um-i uh- please remember to breathe after this one? maybe touch some grass? ALSO my first time writing for toji AAA i hope he’s okay

maybe if you don’t breathe? nah, that wouldn’t work. there’s still air acting around your limbs when you move so you’d be disturbing the barriers there. let’s see… maybe bit by bit? surely if you slowly inched his shirt up? then again, wouldn’t toji chew you out halfway through? maybe you should just give it to him straight up? just slip your hand under his shirt. come on. but he looks so peaceful, sleeping like that.. long eyelashes fluttered closed, lips relaxed and not scowling. his eyebrows are softly arched. he looks so soft, lips parted, chest rising and falling with every breath.

fuck it. just do it. cuddle him already.

you muster up all your courage in one fell swoop and you bend one leg over toji, resting it just above his groin. your right arm sprawls out over his chest and your hand rests against his toned arm. he’s already sleeping with one arm bent up with his hand supporting the back of his head, so you utilise the free real estate to nestle your head in the crook of where his shoulder and collarbone meet.

when he doesn’t move after a while, you deem your life to be safe and exhale with ease.

“you’re not asleep.” toji states in a groggy, husky tone. it’s supposed to be a question, but, coming from him it almost sounds like a challenge.

“yes?” you squeak out meekly.

“‘yes?’ you asleep or not?”

“i can’t sleep again.” you murmur against his shirt and he exhales a small sigh. the arm that you’re clinging onto moves to draw small circles on your thigh that rests on toji.

“when’d you notice?” you inquire, glancing down at his large wrists.

“like five minutes ago. nice try, kid.” toji snorts indifferently, chuckling at your behaviour.

when you don’t make an effort to respond, toji’s interest peaks and he lets out a small hum of intrigue when he follows your gaze.

he turns his head, brushing his lips up against your temples.

“see anything interesting down there?”

“as a matter of fact-“

you nestle yourself in between toji’s large and built thighs, digits curling around the waistband of his boxers. he only smirks at you through the dark, cock twitching through the fabric. you notice toji hover his hips up so that you can slide his boxers off for him and you happily oblige.

“-i do.” you chime, licking your lips.

it’s cute, though, if you thought toji was gonna let you handle him like that all by yourself.

as you kiss a trail up his thick shaft, toji yanks ahold fistfuls of your hair before grabbing your face off of his cock.

“who said you could suck my dick? that’s real cute.”

“thinking you actually have a place in my house.”

“i didn’t train you to be such a depraved slut. know your fucking place, because this isn’t it.”

“how many times do i gotta tell you? you don’t belong here. look around. do you see anything that shows a woman lives here? no? that’s because you’re nothing but a fuck doll for me.”

toji hisses out profanities at the gag you spew when he slams your tiny little mouth back down on his dick.

“lose the teeth you imbecile. unless you’re trying to tell me that you can’t suck my dick properly.”

incessant whines and garbled sentences are muffled by toji’s cock. whatever remnants you had of your vision are nothing but a blur as tears stream your cheeks, nose running and sniffles resurface in a repeating pattern over the slick sounds of slurping and gagging. your mouth stretches as far as it can go and the corners of your lips shriek in despair. you can feel the skin there stretch and pull beyond what’s considered normal.

even through all that, you manage to glance up at toji through your water logged lashes. you’ll be a good girl for him. you need to be.

“fuuuck. that’s a pretty sight.” he grumbles and a deep chuckle resonates through his chest. within a few moments, toji fumbles to reach for something.

you can only wince and screw your eyes at the suddenly blinding flash of a light in front of you. one can only assume he’s taken a photo of you in your humiliating state.

you can feel the fear settle into your veins when that telltale ping of a message being sent vibrates throughout the room. if you were to listen hard enough, you could hear a notification go off in the next room over.

your throat feels raw, jaw tense and locked open. it’s been a good twenty minutes of toji face fucking you to teach you a valid lesson. it’s all in the will of him wanting to drag this on, savouring every miniscule slurp, whimper or gasp. when his strokes start to feel sloppier than usual, you can’t help but feel relieved.

as you squirm about due to toji shooting hot ropes of his thick cum down your throat, the door softly clicks open.

“megumi. you’re just in time.”

“she’s way more obedient than your mom ever used to be.”

#BYE- #TOJI’S- #hello! today we offer cleansing holy services such as adult baptism or even holy communions! remember god is watching #i’m joking LMFAO #god can’t help me #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen gojou #gojo smut #gojo x y/n #gojo saturo x reader #itadori yuuji x you #jjk itadori #itadori hcs #itadori x reader #itadori x y/n #itadori x you #toji x you #toji fushiguro #toji imagine #daddy toji #toji x y/n #okkotsu yuuta #yuuta x reader #yuuta x you #yuta okkotsu x reader #okkotsu x reader #jjk smut

[dreamlessinparis]

Set My World Ablaze

Summary: Being in love with your best friend is always a struggle, especially when she has no idea. Or so you think.

Pairing: Wanda x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3522

Warning: smut, angst, sexual tension, f/f, language, Wanda Maximoff (she's babe and thus a warning), alcohol, fluff, friends to lovers, 18+, DNI if you're a minor

A/N: This is my submission for @msmarvelwrites 2k writing challenge and the song prompt that I based this on was Dress. I'm obsessed with this song and I knew I wanted to write this story from the very beginning. It just took me a bit longer than I anticipated because I kept fighting with myself over it

if you’re a minor, please DNI!

Please do not repost, publish or translate my work. Reblogs and comments are appreciated! Thank you for reading :)

Wanda’s fingers ran through your hair, as she created an intricate updo on top of your head. Your eyes fluttered shut, savoring the feeling of her nimble fingers in your long tresses.

“You gonna fall asleep on me, lovely?” Her melodic voice questioned, her Sokovian accent sending a thrill up your spine. You couldn’t help it, you were in love with your best friend and she was the only one who didn’t know.

Ever since Wanda had joined the team, you two were inseparable. Initially having bonded over your similar powers, the friendship quickly grew. Now two years later, and that feeling of friendship had bloomed into something more. At least for you. Every day you fell more and more in love with her.

Every time Wanda entered the room, your heart skipped a beat and sometimes you found yourself staring at her until someone nudged you out of your stupors. Luckily you were able to shield her from reading your thoughts or your friendship would long have been ruined. She didn’t feel that way for you and you knew she never would.

“Honey?” she questioned again.

“Mhmm?” you mumbled, drawing a sweet giggle out of her.

“Are you falling asleep, darling?”

“Yess,” You nodded, eyes still shut.

“Well you’re gonna have to wake up because I’m all done.”

“Noooooo,” you groaned, head falling back into her lap. She leaned forward, her beautiful hair creating a cocoon around you two. “You can’t be done, it feels too good!”

Smiling, she kissed your nose and gently moved your head, so she could get up.

“I have magic fingers,” she smirked, wiggling her fingers at you. You chuckled, her playful antics were rarely present these days, the stress of all these missions getting to you all.

“Yes you do, now come back and continue your magic finger treatment,” you pouted.

She shook her hand, “I can’t babe, I promised Vision I would train with him. But I promise tonight we can have a movie night, just the two of us!”

Getting off the ground, you followed her out, walking with her to the training room

“Sounds great, but we can’t tonight. Tony’s throwing that extravagant party, celebrating that one mission we didn’t die on, remember?” The one you still had to find a dress for.

“Oh no, you’re right! I completely forgot about that!” Wanda exclaimed. She suddenly gripped your arm, stopping you. “We should go together! That way neither one of us will be alone!”

Her words hurt your heart because you knew she didn’t mean it as you wanted her to, but nonetheless, you plastered a smile on and agreed quickly, before excusing yourself.

~

Natasha was leaning by your door as you approached and she pushed off the wall, trailing you into the room.

“You know you should just tell her how you feel?” she said, as you plopped down on your couch in a huff.

“Tell who what?” you asked, playing dumb. Nat gave you a ‘seriously’ look and you shook your head “I can’t tell her. She sees me as a friend, that’s all. And I love her too much to lose her.”

“So you choose to be unhappy.”

“You know better than all of us, that us avengers rarely find happiness,” you joked, and she shoved you playfully.

“Oh shut up!” she chuckled. “We should find you an amazing dress for tonight, that’ll help you feel like yourself again.”

You shrugged, sure that she was right but your heart just wasn’t in it. Alas, you let her drag you out to go shopping. Armed with Tony’s credit card, she found a cute boutique that was very misleading because you knew if you looked at any of the tags, you’d had a heart attack.

Watching as she tore through the racks of dresses, you sat on a comfy poof with a champagne flute in hand. She was a menace, throwing dress after dress in a pile you knew she was gonna make you try.

Shaking your head, you stood up and began scanning through the dresses yourself, running your hand over the material. A burgundy dress caught your eye, the satiny material, cut in a deep v, tight but not too tight with a slit up the thigh. It was beautiful.

You snuck into the back without alerting Nat, and into a dressing room. The dress fit perfectly, hugging every curve of your body and for a second you imagined Wanda seeing you in this and falling head over heels in love with you. Oh, a girl could dream, couldn’t she?

“Y/n? Where did you go?” you hear Natasha call out and peeked your head out of the room.

“Back here, Nat. I found a dress,” you hollered back. She let out a frustrated huff, knowing her efforts were wasted on you. You exited the dressing room and her eyes widened as she took in your silhouette.

“Wow! I’m impressed, you did almost as good of a job as I would have,” Nat said, crossing her arms and leaning against the door frame. “Now if you let me do your hair and makeup, I’m sure we can make Wanda not know what hit her.”

You quickly threw a hanger at her, which she dodged effortlessly, laughing as she left you to change.

The shopping trip didn’t last long after that, as you came to the counter to find Nat with her dress and a pair of heels for you. She was lucky you were very dexterous, otherwise, you would fall flat on your face in those shoes and what kind of impression would you make then?

~

“Okay Nat, you’re overdoing it, I can feel it,” you complained, as she ran the brush along your cheekbones in feather light motions. She tsked you, ignoring your billionth complaint of the night. “Natttttt!” “Stop complaining or I will mess up and we’ll have to start all over,” She threatened. A light knock interrupted your rebuttal and you both looked at the door. “There, you’re all done,” she smiled, booping you on the nose with the brush before she took the cloth off, the one she had tied around your neck to avoid messing up your dress with makeup.

“Finally!” you said exasperatedly, heading to the door. You opened it to reveal Wanda in a pretty rose gold dress, the v of the dress was nearly down to her navel, accentuating the slopes of her breasts and tiny waist, the sequins were scattered with a few in flower shapes, all catching the light with each movement. She looked like an absolute goddess with her long hair in loose waves. The smile she gave you lit up her entire face, causing your heart to race.

“Wow, you look beautiful!” She exclaimed pulling the rather speechless you into a tight hug. You hoped she couldn’t feel your raging heartbeat. Natasha laughed under her breath, covering it up as a cough and you quickly flipped her the bird from behind Wanda’s back.

“Thank you, Wanda. So do you,” you managed to get out without stumbling over your words. A quick round of applause, ladies and gentlemen! You pulled away from her and the three of you headed downstairs.

~

Natasha conveniently leaving the two of you to join Steve at the bar. Bruce was in charge of drinks tonight so you knew you’d most likely be hungover in the morning. That man did not know how to portion alcohol appropriately.

Wanda scanned the room, her arm looped through yours, waving to some of your friends. She pulled you alongside her as she came to the group of couches where Bucky, Sam, and Vision sat.

“Doll, that dress is immaculate,” Bucky complimented as you sat down next to him with Wanda beside you. Vision pulled Wanda into a discussion about their workout earlier and you turned your attention to Sam and Bucky.

“Thanks, Buck! Nat and I went shopping this afternoon,” you said, smiling at the super-soldier. You couldn’t deny that he was a god of a man and you probably checked him out almost as much as you did Wanda. Bucky Barnes was a gift to womankind and he knew it.

His eyes looked you over and you leaned forward a bit, placing your purse on the coffee table, causing his eyes to wander to your cleavage.

“Well you two did a great job picking out dresses,” He replied, eyes reluctantly leaving your chest. His eyes glanced over your shoulders and widened briefly, before returning to you nervously. You turned to look over your shoulder, only seeing Wanda talking with Vision and a room full of people mingling. Nothing out of the ordinary.

Bucky still looked a bit spooked when you return to him but as the conversation flows, him and Sam have you laughing uncontrollably. At some point, Wanda brought you a drink, and another and another until your whole body felt so hot and your dress felt like it was smothering you.

You leaned back into her, her sweet scent enveloping you like a warm hug. She giggled at something Bucky said or didn’t say, you weren’t exactly sure at this point, and wrapped her arm around your shoulder, hand resting by your breast.

“And that’s when I had to intervene, you know? Or Steve was going to get his ass handed to him for the last time,” Bucky chuckled recalling a time when Steve got his ass kicked. Steve tossed a pillow at him as the crowd laughed along with Bucky. Those two were probably the only ones not hammered at this point.

“I’m gonna get another drink,” you said, your words only slightly slurred. You could handle your alcohol well, but you were still quite tipsy and as you went to stand up, you wobbled. Wanda’s hand shot out, her powers wrapped around your waist, holding you steady. You gained your footing, nodding thanks to her, and headed carefully to the bar.

“I need another drink please, good sir,” you said, leaning haphazardly against the bar. Bruce’s lip quirked up in a half-smile as he handed you a pink concoction. You took it without question and started sipping, resting against the counter as you looked around the now practically empty room. Only the Avengers and close friends were left; it was always your favorite time of the night when it was just all of you having a good time.

“I think it’s time to head to bed, love,” Wanda’s accented voice whispered in your ear, her warm breath trailing along your skin, raising goosebumps on your flesh.

“Bed?” you asked confused. “You’re going to take me to bed?” the lack of filter elevated by the alcohol in your system.

“If that’s what you want, baby,” she said, “You don’t think I don’t see the way you look at me. The way you watch me, the way you stumble over your words when I’m around.”

You backed away from her, thinking she was mocking you, that she had made it through your mental barriers. “Wanda, don’t,” you whispered, shaking your head. She tilted her head to the side, in that cute way that she does and grabbed your hands.

“I want you, y/n. I’m not messing with you. I want you too.” she reassured you, pulling you closer to her until her arms wrapped around your waist. Her fingers lingered over the bare skin of your back as she drew shapes on your skin, calming you almost instantly.

“Really?” you said, feeling ridiculous at how pathetic you sounded.

She leaned in, placing a sweet kiss on your lips and you whimpered against her lips. The kiss was electrifying, just the feeling of her against you ignited a dormant spark in you. Tugging you closer, she pressed herself against you. She tugged on your bottom lip as she separated from you. “Really, love. I almost took Barnes out earlier for the way he was staring.”

“You’re the one who spooked him?” you questioned. She nodded, with a wicked smile.

“Ever since I saw you in that dress, all I’ve wanted to do is peel it off you and if I wasn’t doing, no one else was going to.”

Lips to her ears, you said “Well good because I only bought this dress so you could take it off.”

Grinning like a Cheshire cat, Wanda grabbed your hand, and the two of you made your way to the elevator, giggling the whole way there. Oblivious to anything else. You were sure Natasha was probably smirking knowingly while the rest just stared.

~

The two of you barely made it to the bedroom when you pressed Wanda into a wall, slotting your thigh between hers.

“I don’t want you like a best friend. I haven’t for a long time,” you admitted against her lips before pulling her into a passionate kiss. Wanda’s hands grasped at the ample flesh of your ass, as she ground herself on your thigh.

Your hand cupped her face, holding her close, pausing for a moment to take her in, the moonlight from the window caressing the line of her throat, the swell of her heaving chest, the glimmer of her sequined dress.

Her fingers danced up your torso to the zipper on your side, lowering it with ease, before sliding the straps down your shoulders. You shimmied out of the dress and helped her slip her dress off, leaving you both in nothing but your panties.

Dresses discarded on the floor, you pulled her close, pressing your lips to Wanda’s neck. Her breasts bouncing lightly, her cheeks flushed, sweet nothings whispering from her lips, as she let her head fall back. Your lips sank lower, down to her breast, teasing one pebble-hard nipple, circling it with your tongue.

She pushed you onto the bed and you groaned as her teeth nipped at your neck. She crushed you to her, settling between your legs, skin to skin, every sweet curve at her fingertips. The red hue of her powers danced along your skin, making every part of you tingle. The added sensations made your back arch, your skin gliding along hers. Her fingertips dragged down your ribs, over the swell of your hips, finally brushing along the inside of your thighs.

A thrill sizzled up your spine and her eyes darkened at the sight of you. She was enjoying the way you were coming apart for her, unabashed and wanting.

“Wanda, I -” you panted as you felt Wanda drawing tight, firm circles over your clit with her clever fingers. She kept her pace steady, listening to you moan in time to her fingers.

It was truly like nothing you had ever known, even with previous lovers. The jolting current of her fingers combined with the soft kisses along your collarbones, your neck, your breasts. You mewled as she pulled a nipple into her mouth, lathing it with her tongue. You felt like time stood still, nothing but her teasing tongue and your breathless sighs, a heat building between your legs, setting your whole body aflame.

“Oh Wanda, yes,” you whispered.

“You like that, pretty baby?”

“Don’t stop,’’ you pleaded. She kissed you swallowing your pleas, your moans, all your sweet sounds. Her lips were like honey, warm and soft against yours. Your body writhing beneath her as Wanda’s fingers rolled over your swollen bud.

“I want to taste you,” She breathed, nuzzling into the valley of your breasts. You nodded, rapidly, the feel of her fingers making you yearn for more. You needed her mouth on you soon, before you lost it.

Kissing down your body, slow as melting ice, she ran her tongue along your sweat-beaded skin, her hand still strumming between your thighs. She pressed long, languid kisses on your belly, your hips, tracing around your navel with the tip of her tongue.

Spreading out your thighs with her hands, you laid splayed out on the bed before her. She watched you with a fierce look in her eye and her eyes drifted down to your silken softness, drenched in your slick. She moved slowly, running her tongue through your folds, flickering in and out.

You mewled and sighed, hips grinding, your hands in her hair, pulling her in tighter. Wanda moaned against you, feeling consumed by the taste of you, thirsty, starving for the flood of nectar on her tongue.

With a wave of her hand, she wrapped her powers around your breasts, pinching and rolling at the swollen nipples. The abundance of pleasure was quickly hurdling you towards the edge. You lost yourself as Wanda went to work in earnest, eyes rolling back in your head, fingers gripping the sheets blindly as you urged her on.

Your sounds made Wanda feel all-powerful, her every movement, every flick of her tongue or touch of her lips drawing out a groan, whispered pleas, a tremor running down the length of your body. With every drag of her tongue, your moans grew louder, longer until her tongue flicked over your pulsing bud, causing your body to tense up like a bowstring, spine arching. Your thighs clamped on either side of Wanda’s head, every muscle taut and shaking as your toes curled and you shrieked loudly.

Your whole body fell limp in the breathless aftermath, Wanda lapping up your release, tracing light circles over you, savoring your taste. Grinning mischievously she sank her tongue deeper into your petals, making you groan and reach for her head.

“Enough, gorgeous, enough,” you begged, pulling her back up your body. You enfolded her in your arms, your bodies melding into one as you flipped her over. Her legs wrapped around your waist as she kissed you feverishly, a long hungry kiss. You could taste yourself on her lips and you groaned, sucking on her bottom lip. Wanda smacked your ass, making you gasp and bite her lip, almost drawing blood.

“That was incredible,” she breathed out, licking her lips.

“Beginner’s luck?” you smirked down at her and she snarled in response.

“I didn’t hear any complaints,” she rebutted. “If you’re so cocky about it, love, why don’t you show me how it’s done?”

You kissed down her jawline, and she craned her head back, giving you full access to her neck. Your lips drifted down her throat, teeth grazing over her pulse point. Your fingernails traced lines of lust down her body, to her inner thighs.

“Say please” you taunted, kissing along her heated skin, nibbling marks on her gorgeous peaks. Your tongue flicked over a hardened nipple and Wanda whimpered, arching into you. You continued your descend down, situating yourself in between her thighs.

“W-what?” she panted.

“Say,” you whispered, nipping at the divet of her thigh and her sex. “Please.”

Wanda was hard-headed and stubborn, never one to bow down to anyone, but the way your fingers danced over her, light as a breeze, Wanda felt her belly begin to tighten as your tongue drew a tightening spiral around her clit.

“Say it,” you whispered again, flicking your tongue in a quick motion. The ache between her hips was a sweet agony, her heart pounding in her chest.

“Wanda, baby, say please and...” the light brush of your tongue, made her buck and shiver, “...I’ll give you what you want.”

Wanda lifted her heavy head, looking down the length of her body to you, ready to devour her. Anticipation was making it hard for her to breathe, eyes fluttering closed, she let her head fall back as she gave herself over to you entirely.

“Please.” Wanda panted.

A low, broken moan escaped her lips as you went to work, lips and tongues dancing through her folds. She had no idea where you had learned your skills, and any ex-lovers who may have had this pleasure from you, were now on Wanda’s hit list. She felt herself get wetter, her heat pulsed with every brush of your tongue. The bedsheet twisted in her fist as you slid a finger inside her, curling, coaxing, stroking against the spot that made her see stars.

The rhythm of your tongue matched your touch, and a second finger joined the first. Her back arched, lifting her hips to ground against your face, hands snarled in your hair. Wanda’s hips bucked wildly, and stars bloomed in her vision as your lips wrapped around your clit, sucking hard. The heat inside her burst into ravenous flames and she lost herself, her mouth open in a soundless scream.

Coming down from her blinding high, Wanda felt you beside her, soft lips leaving sweet kisses on her face, and finally her lips. You hooked a leg over hers, and she wrapped an arm around you, tugging you close. Nuzzled into her, you basked in her warm embrace.

“I hope you know I’m not letting you go. You’re mine.” Wanda said softly. You kissed her neck and hummed in approval.

“All yours,” you vowed, slowly beginning to doze off, her hand stroking your hair.

“Maybe next time, we’ll invite Bucky to join,” was the last thing you hear before sleep pulled you under.

Taglist:

@fuckandfluff @caffiend-queen @jobean12-blog

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff smut #wanda x reader #marvel fanfiction #msmarvel2kchallenge #dress by taylor swift

[some-kindofgnome]

meet me in the afterglow

After college graduation, you took an all-summer backpacking trip around Europe with your best friend. Now you've got one last night together before coming home as lovers.

characters: eijirou kirishima x f!reader

wc: 2.4k

tags: smut (18+ please!), aged-up characters, quirkless au, implied friends-to-lovers, fluff, mentions of drinking/the sliiiiightest bit of tipsiness, swedish condoms, no beta we die like that bottle of wine

notes: @the-moons-raes and I discussed travelling with BNHA boys at some length a lil while ago, so I wrote this sweet lil scene for her! Consider it a (very) belated birthday present my dear. 💖 xoxoo

MASTERLIST

The sky’s faded from powder-blue to apricot by the time you stumble together into the bedroom.

“Oh my god,” you giggle. You’ve been grinning all night, so hard it’s starting to hurt your wine-warmed cheeks. But this is the happiest you’ve been in a very long time.

“That was,” Eijirou starts, “one of the- no, the best meal I’ve ever had.”

“We should’ve ordered another bottle of that wine,” you muse. He’s got his hands on your hips and you twist in his grip, curling your fingers around his palms. His face has gone pink, but his eyes are sparkling and you’ve already decided you want to preserve this feeling for the rest of your life.

“I don’t think you need anything else to drink tonight,” he teases smoothly, pulling you close with his fingertips digging into the gauzy fabric of your dress. He leans down and pushes his lips against yours, the last tartness of the strawberry gelato you finished on the boardwalk still lingering in the tender flick of his tongue.

Tonight falls at the tail end of a long backpacking trip across Europe that you’ve been wanting to take for as long as you can remember. You’d never planned to take anybody with you at all, let alone the man you’d wind up falling for.

But Eiji’s always been pretty good at defying your expectations.

The rest of the summer hasn’t been this glamorous. You’d spent most nights shacked up in rickety little hostel beds, bunking together in rooms of six or camping out in the backseat of a tiny rental car. But the sleepless nights and sore backs and restricted luggage hadn’t changed a thing. You’ve been in heaven all summer long.

To celebrate your last couple of nights in this hemisphere, you checked into one of Naples’ top-rated hotels. It’s still not the most luxurious room on the market, but compared to the military-issue bunk beds you’ve been sleeping on for the past eight weeks, it might as well be paradise.

Especially now, given the changed nature of your relationship.

You got on the plane together two months ago nursing a deep, intense crush on your best friend. You’ve been close with Eijirou since your first year in college together, when he was assigned to the dorm room beside yours. And for as long as you’d known him, you assumed you’d be loving him from a distance.

But somewhere between Brussels and Berlin, the line between friend and lover started to blur. Since then, it’s been completely erased.

“Come on,” you protest, flinging your arms around his neck and clasping them together behind his head. “I can hardly feel a thing.”

He ran out of hair gel two weeks ago and he’s been wearing his hair down ever since, tied into a loose little ponytail at the nape of his neck. The dark roots of his natural colour are starting to show at his crown after going nearly two months without so much as a haircut.

To you, he’s never looked sweeter.

“That’s my point,” he insists, descending into tipsy, cheerful laughter. “You’re so drunk y’can’t feel a thing. C’mere, it’s time to get you to bed.”

His euphoric grin twists around the edges with mischief as he stoops, sweeping you off your feet with a quiet little grunt of effort. You burst out laughing, letting one arm drop around his neck as your head falls back in deepening mirth.

“Take me to bed,” you swoon, dropping purposely limp in his arms. You haven’t been able to do any of this since that night in Athens a couple of weeks ago where you miraculously had an entire hostel bunkroom to yourselves.

Even then, those cots didn’t make it easy.

Tonight you’ve got a king bed all to yourselves, which Kirishima plants you on before crossing to the window and throwing it open. The night air is velvety and sweet, rolling in like heady steam and waking your senses as you watch him ditch his shoes and crawl across the plush bedspread to settle down beside you.

“You are insanely beautiful,” he croons, propping one head on his arm and smoothing his fingers affectionately down your temple. “I can’t believe I get to tell you that.”

He leans in to kiss you after that, tasting you carefully as his hand drifts from your cheek to your neck to your side. He’s a careful kisser, tasting of the last hints of that sweet summer wine that’s filled both your heads.

Picking up on your eagerness, he breaks from your lips to push attentive little kisses down the side of your neck. But as he reaches the hem of the floaty little dress you wear, he pauses and finds your eye.

“Can I?”

He’s already sliding one palm down over the curve of your hip, but it pauses at your thigh, and the earnest little quirk in his brow is so cute you can’t help but giggle.

“Do you really need to ask?” you quip.

He hums thoughtfully against your skin, already mouthing at your collarbone. “Just making sure.”

There are oversized buttons lining the center front of your dress, and he takes his time popping open every single one. He opens the dress far enough that he could have easily pulled it down over your hips, but he doesn’t stop there. Instead, you get to watch as he works open the last button with quiet, deep concentration, and when he finally does, he pushes the folds open around your body with a loving little triumphant smile.

“There’s my girl,” he croons as he crawls atop you once more, shedding his sweaty t-shirt in the process. You’re chest-to-chest when he catches your lips again, and his skin is still a little warm from the afternoon you’d spent at the beach before dinner.

He kisses you long and low and slow, giving you plenty of time to let your thighs fall open around the slope of his hips. Eiji presses naturally forward, pushing the ridge of his pelvis and the stiff denim of his shorts against your flimsy underwear. He huffs quietly into your mouth, and as you shift and squirm beneath him you can feel his cock stirring against you.

“Eiji,” you whimper, turning your face sharply to one side. “Don’t make me wait.”

In the absence of your mouth, he noses attentively down the column of your throat. His eyelashes flutter at your jaw and you feel it when he purses his lips and swallows hard.

“Okay,” he rasps. “Okay, I gotcha.” He rears back, sitting up on his haunches to unbutton his shorts. Before he gets up to shed them, he rests a hand on the plane of your belly, smiling so innocently down at you it shouldn’t make you throb.

But it does.

“Ready for me already, pretty girl?” Eiji muses, and you have to bite your lip hard to keep from rolling over and screaming into your pillow as loudly as possible.

“Been ready for you since the beach,” you tease back, and it works, since his ears are turning red as he slips out of bed. He hooks his thumbs into the waistband of his undershorts and shucks both garments in one smooth motion, hunching over to let them drop to the floor while he steps unceremoniously out of them.

His cock’s half-hard already, sitting full and heavy between his thighs and swelling self-consciously under your gaze. He’s exactly as big as you always sort of knew he was. He’s not shy about it, either. He can’t afford to be.

But he doesn’t know how beautiful he is, sunburned and sweating in the fading golden-hour light of your last sunset in Italy. You want to pet the soft little bristle of dark hair that dusts his chest, follow the taper of it all the way down to that perfect trail that always used to disappear under his shorts.

Not anymore. You get to see him at his most vulnerable now.

And you will not misuse that trust.

“Come here,” you purr, pushing yourself onto your elbows so he can see the desire burning in your gaze for him.

He leans instinctively toward you, hands twitching by his sides. He snaps out of a little reverie with a hard blink, stooping in front of his shorts and fishing out his slim little travel wallet.

“Hang on.”

He flips through the creased euros and museum tickets, carding out a wrapped condom. He climbs back onto the bed and passes it to you with a shy little grin.

“I know you like to do the honours.”

The condom comes from a packet you bought in the wee hours at some twenty-four hour roadside convenience store before bedding down in a rented car together. The instructions are in Swedish, but you know what you’re doing.

By the time you get the condom unwrapped, Eiji’s on his knees in front of you and his cock is fully hard out of sheer anticipation. You reach between his thighs and wrap your fingers around his warm flesh, making him shudder. And you drop one sweet, warm kiss to his mouth before you focus.

He rolls his hips quietly into your touch as you handle the job with delicate precision, unrolling the condom all the way to his base.

“Ready?” He asks you, but you’re already laying back against the pillows and thumbing off your underwear, slick and aching for him.

“Get over here before I start without you,” you tease, and he is powerless to resist you. He anchors himself on his knees, hooking each of your legs over one of his powerful thighs. He reaches for you and his cock sweeps the inside of your thigh as it bobs between you. You’ve been wanting this from the moment you saw this room, the perfect ending to a life-changing trip.

Eiji sinks lower, letting the barrel of his chest rise and fall with a deep, steadying breath. He reaches between you to line himself up with you, casting his eyes up to yours when he feels you.

“Ready?” He repeats himself, and this time the humor’s gone. You nod quietly against the pillow and reach for his free hand, lacing your fingers together tightly.

You squeeze hard as he starts to slot himself inside you. He stretches you deeply, especially without any preparation. But he knows how to keep you comfortable, moving slowly and smoothly. He braces a hand on your belly as he bottoms out, but he does not pause there. Instead, he starts to ease into a lazy rhythm, sweeping his thumb between your folds to find the swelling nub of your clit.

“Fuck,” you whine, and he flinches a little inside you.

“God,” he gasps, bending over to press his forehead- sticky with sweat- into yours. “Tell me I’m not dreaming, yeah?”

You reach up and lightly pinch his chest with your free hand, and he grins above you.

“You’re good,” you confirm, hearing the breathlessness echo in your own voice.

“I’m not gonna last long like this,” he brushes. You shake your head.

“Don’t care. Just fuck me.”

His brow lifts against yours. After a chuckle of disbelief, he sits up.

“Aye aye, captain.”

He squeezes your fingers tightly and begins to thrust.

He does not hold back with you, keeping the pad of his thumb winding tight circles into your clit as he fucks you with eager diligence. You revel in the slap of your bodies, the fact that you can spread out and make noise, moan for him like you’ve always wanted to. Finally alone together for real. No stolen moments of privacy here. You can take as much as you want.

“Eiji,” you beg, beginning to clench around him as you feel the first twinges of your climax approaching.

“I’ve got you, baby,” he huffs, borderline incoherent as the flush spreads down his neck and chest. “Let go for me, I gotcha.”

In a dozen thrusts he’s got you falling, letting high whimpers escape your throat as your pussy clenches and flutters around his thick shaft. He rubs you diligently through your climax, fucking you steadily until you whine and paw his hand away, overstimulated and sensitive.

“I’m there,” he promises. “I’m there, I’m there, I’m….. f-fuck!” His jaw falls slack as he throws his head back, thrusting headlong into a tight climax that has him trembling against you. His hips go still, but you can feel the way his cock twitches inside your spent walls as he fills the condom.

When he’s finished he stays there for a moment, shoulders dropping while the rest of his body goes slack. He reaches up, scraping sweaty strands of hair off his forehead before he grins sleepily down at you.

“Did you…” He starts, eyes turning inquisitive. Someday he’ll be able to tell, but for now you’re just glad he’s asking.

“Yeah,” you hum, eyes bright despite the weight setting quickly into your limbs. It’s worth it for the pride that surges visibly through him, and he pulls out of you with a triumphant grin spreading his lips.

“Good,” he gushes, slipping quietly away to dispose of the condom. He’s hardly gone for a handful of seconds, and when he comes back he crawls eagerly up to your side and pulls you into his arms, curling his body attentively around yours.

“This is nice,” you confess, drifting pleasantly in the wine-and-sex-induced fog that rests heavy in your brain.

“Hmm?” Eiji’s already half-asleep above you, eyelids drooping as the light fades from the window beside the bed.

“This,” you prompt again. “Not having to get dressed again right away. We should do this more often.”

“I sure hope we do,” he enthuses. “When we get back, I’m not letting you unpack until we consummate our relationship on the right hemisphere.”

That was the longest you’d gone around him without laughing in a while. Even half-asleep, though, his wisecracks are enough to make you snort.

“Deal,” you hum, letting your eyes fall shut as the world bleeds out of focus around you. It’s not even eight o’clock and you’re sure you’ll have him again before nightfall. But for now, you’re more than happy to bask in the afterglow with the one person in the world you never thought you’d make it there with.

#bnha x reader #kirishima x reader #eijirou x reader #kirishima #kirishima eijirou #kirishima smut #tw drinking #reader insert

[mysteriouslee]

Got another lovely request

aight time to come up with a name

hmm

Midnight request

it works ig

lee Marcy lers Anne and Sasha

It was all over; the war was over and the three were finally together. The three laid in bed together in peace until-

Anne was suddenly awoken by the sounds of cries, the cries coming from none other than Marcy. Anne locked eyes with Sasha who had also woken up to the sounds

" Mar- Mar"? said the brunette in a concerned tone

Marcy froze at her nickname; shit she woke them up she thought

" What's wrong Mar" Anne said caressing Marcy's hair gently.

"Had another nightmare" asked Sasha

Marcy nodded slowly and cuddled in closer to her partners

The girls have had their own share of nightmares since amphibia, they weren't so easy to deal with, but they got through it nonetheless

The blonde and brunette thought on how to make Marcy's pain go away, they were lost for words but then Marcy spoke up.

"Hey guys, could you do the thing" Marcy asked nervously

"What thing" Anne and Sasha asked in unison

"You know, the thing you did to cheer up....you know what, why am I even asking, it's probably very childish to you guys" said Marcy

After a bit of though it clicked in Sasha's head what her nerdy girlfriend wanted

"No, I don't think so" said Sasha who had finally caught on. Sasha pulled Marcy closer to her and held her around her waist.

It took and a couple minutes but then you could see when the light bulb turned on in Anne's brain

"Took you a while Anne, anyways for the little lady's request you shall receive,” said Sasha

Anne pulled in closer and now Marcy was trapped between them, so even if she changed her mind, it was too late.

"Ready?" Anne asked

Marcy put her head over Anne's shoulder and lightly nodded.

Anne's fingers lightly scribbled where Marcy's ribs met her sides, giggles could be heard from the ravenette gripping onto Anne.

Sasha started tracing and poking all over Marcy's back causing Marcy to twitch a bit and squeak.

"Aww Mar- Mar you're so cute,” said Sasha; she then stopped tracing and poking and planted kisses and Marcy's shoulders and neck causing Marcy's giggles to increase.

"Guhuhys" Marcy said in between her laughter

Yeah Marce" responded Anne

"It tickles,” said Marcy

"Well, that's the point" Sasha responded.

Anne moves her body position from Marcy's shoulder to hug around her hips. Anne started to pinch and massage Marcy's hips and Marcy started to kick and her giggles got louder.

"Shh, you'll wake Anne's parents" Sasha said moving her fingers under Marcy's worn-out T- Shirt and into Marcy's stomach and started to dig her fingers which would switch to her nails lightly scribbling on it occasionally.

Marcy pushed her face into a pillow to muffle her laughter so that Mr. and Mrs. B's slumber don't get disturbed

"Why didn't you tell us you were this ticklish Marbles" Anne said as one of her hands moved to Marcy spine and lightly tapped her tails along to area.

"I cahahan't take ihihit anymore,” said Marcy

"Really, but you're yet to say your safe word, which is emerald,” said Sasha

Marcy hid deeper in the pillow in her embarrassment.

Anne and Sasha stopped their tickling for a second. Marcy was confused by the sudden stop, she felt herself being flipped on her back and a loud squeal could be heard from Marcy. Anne and Sasha have no delt out their best worst cards. Anne covered Marcy's stomach from top to bottom in raspberries while scribbling Marcy's ribs and sides and Sasha dug into Marcy armpits and kissed along her collarbone and where her neck met, he shoulders.

Marcy wasn't ready for the sudden impact of intense tickles, she rolled around and kicked, and her hair was getting messier by the second. Her flushed face could be seen as the pillow was accidentally kicked of the bed. Giggles turned to snorts and cackled and her sorrows has now seemed to float far away.

"Emerahahald, emerald" Marcy screeched her safe word

It ended with a final raspberry to the stomach. Marcy stilled twitched a bit due to the ghost tickles which were rubbed off.

"Thanks guys' said Marcy

"No problem, dude" responded Anne

Marcy's eye lids felt heavy the exhaustion has finally caught up to her

"Sleepy?' asked Sasha

Marcy tiredly nodded

The three returned to their cuddling position and all was at peace.

#amphibia #anne boonchuy #sasha waybright #marcy wu #sashannarcy #sfw tickling #tickling community #tickle fanfic #marcy liking tickles is a headcanon I will take with me to ma grave thx very much