#there are ones that are cut like movies even!

[sporadicbeans82]

Gossip || Kyra Cooney-Cross x Reader

Summary: Kyra wants to kiss you, and you want a date.

Warnings: None.

Word Count: 2.1k

A/N: Something short & sweet & (as always) unedited. I hope you enjoy :)

“Will- um… You know that one cafe that you really like? Do you want to go there? With me, in particular?” 

At Kyra's hesitantly sounded words, you had to bite back your smile. You don’t think you’d ever seen this particular Australian so nervous before.

You watched Kyra’s almond brown eyes bounce around, unable to look at anything but your face. Her hands jittered nervously at her sides, and the poor girls’ face was about as red as the tomato you’d cut up for your salad the night before.

“The cafe I like, hm? No, I’m not sure I do. I like a lot of cafes, you know?” You couldn’t help but tease the Aussie. After all, the girl was intent on pestering you and all of your teammates, so who was to say you wouldn’t tease her now?

You’d happened to know that the girl was going to ask you out sometime soon, as Katie McCabe had accidentally let the secret out, having heard it from her own Australian girlfriend. 

Not a single secret could be kept on the Arsenal women’s team, which was something that you’d become all-too-aware of when you’d transferred to the team over the summer. You’d arrived at the same time as Kyra, and the two of you had become fast friends due to your similar ages and interests. 

You’d quickly learned that a secret was not a secret if you told anyone on the girls’ team. Everybody had their own friends, and their partners, and their besties and, soon enough, a secret would become a known fact throughout every single person on the team. It was how you’d found out about Katie and Caitlin in the first place, having not been aware of it during the World Cup.

Looking back, it was quite obvious that Caitlin and Katie had been dating anyone with eyes. However, you’d turned off all social media during the World Cup so that you could focus on yourself and get as far as you could with your American team. As it stood, that wasn’t very far at all.

That was all besides the point, however, because the next secret to have burned through Arsenal like a wildfire was about Leah and Lia. The two weren’t a couple, as far as you knew, but you knew that they had kissed– more than one time, according to Victoria Pelova. 

Now, it was Kyra’s turn to be ravaged by Arsenal’s inability to keep secrets. You would have thought that it was high school and not a full grown women’s football team with the way everyone gossiped. Everyone knew that you and Kyra had feelings for each other– that is, everyone but you.

Apparently, the two of you looked like lovesick fools anytime you were together. Emily Fox had told you that she’d never seen you as happy as you were when Kyra was by your side. 

Caitlin Foord had told you that Kyra was never as carefree and herself when you weren’t near. 

Hell, even Beth Mead and her girlfriend, Viv, had even tried to get the two of you to go on a double date with them, not knowing that the two of you hadn’t already been dating.

Then, of course, there was Katie McCabe herself, who had notably said that you two looked like you wanted to fuck when you locked eyes across the field during training.

And so, of course, you knew that Kyra liked you, and Kyra knew that you liked her. It had just been yesterday when Kyra had tried to kiss you while you were watching a movie in your apartment. You’d nearly let her, before you’d pushed her away. 

“Hey, what was that for??!” Kyra had said, cheeks red. You’d never been this close to the Aussie before, so close that you could count the dark freckles on her cheeks if you really wanted to. So close that you could smell the cinnamon toast that the two of you had eaten just before sitting down to watch the movie. So close that you could have let her kiss you, which you didn’t. 

“What are you doing?” You asked, making sure that your voice remained light. Kyra appeared confused, furrowing her eyebrows at you.

It had taken all of the strength in your body to push Kyra away, ever so gently. You’d been waiting for so long to kiss the other girl, and to call her yours, that the fact that you’d been so close to finally getting what you wanted made your chest ache. 

However, you’d always been a romantic at heart, and so you simply smiled at Kyra as the girl glowered at you.

“What am I doing? What are you doing? I’m trying to kiss you!” As Kyra continued to be confused, her voice rose. You became aware of her Australian accent, which thickened as she tried to figure out why there was a specific look in your eyes and why you were smirking. It was a look that she was familiar with– one that you had on whenever you helped the Australian with a prank, or when you teased another teammate during training. 

“Oh? And you think I want to kiss you? Before a first date?” You asked Kyra, fighting back a little giggle as Kyra frowned.

“We’ve hung out loads of times! We’ve cuddled each other to sleep– and you’re not counting those as dates?” Kyra asked, looking more and more like a kicked puppy as you sat there, smiling at the other girl.

“No, those were not dates, thank you very much! There were no flowers, and we didn’t even hold hands, and we only cuddled each other to sleep because we were drunk! I didn’t even think that you’d remember that night.” You elbowed Kyra, and the other girl shook her head at you. 

“Okay, then. Fine. Go on a date with me!” Kyra said, and you raised your eyebrows at her. 

“Really? Kyra, my love, you can do better than that!” You chastised, and saw Kyra’s frown deepen. Her eyebrows furrowed ever further, deepening the lines in her face. If she didn’t stop looking so damn adorable, you swore you would kiss her very soon. 

“You want flowers, don’t you?” Kyra asked, although she sounded more like she was making a statement than anything else.

“Yup!” You said, grinning at Kyra. “Show me just how much you liiiike me.” You drew out the “i” in “like”, enjoying the look of utter frustration and impatience on Kyra’s face.

“But I wanted to kiss you.” The girl said, frowning once more.

“Ask me out, and then we can kiss all you want, love.” You said, your voice less teasing now. Truthfully, you wanted to kiss Kyra as well, but you also wanted to see what going on a date with the girl would really look like. 

So, that very night, Kyra had gone out with Caitlin and Steph to pick out flowers for you. Steph had suggested that she get you chocolates as well, while Caitlin had suggested chocolates. Kyra had gotten both– despite knowing that you wouldn’t reject her, she wanted to impress you and she wanted your first date to be as perfect as possible. 

Kyra had had to buy two boxes of chocolates, however, once she realized that Caitlin had eaten half of them. 

And now, Kyra stood at the step of your front door, with a white dress shirt and a black jacket draped over it, as well as black pants and shoes. Her hair was down, and you had to resist the urge to push a strand of hair from her face. 

The girl held roses in one hand, and a box of chocolates in the other. You couldn’t help but smile at the sight, taking the roses from Kyra’s extended hand.

“Thank you, Kyra.” You whispered. Slowly, you took the Australian’s hand in your own and pulled it up to your lips, giving the back of the girls’ hand a small kiss.

When you looked up, Kyra was blushing even more, which you thought was impossible. For a moment, you thought that the poor girl was going to pass out, but she remained standing. 

“I’m just going to put these in a vase on the counter. If you want to come in, you’re more than welcome to.” You told Kyra, the flowers in your hand. Kyra nodded slowly and followed you in.

It only took a moment to set the box of chocolates and flowers, and when you came back, Kyra held her hand out to you. The girl smiled, more reserved and shy than you’d ever seen her in your life. You let Kyra take your hand in hers, and enjoyed the feeling of the warm skin of her palm against your own. 

Kyra dragged you right out of your house, your own clothes comfortable but similar to Kyra’s in the fact that they were formal. 

That afternoon, Kyra gave you the best first date that you’d ever had. She bought you your favorite coffee, ordering for you due to the fact that she knew your order by heart. Then, the girl dragged you halfway across London to some botanical garden that Leah had told her about, knowing just how much you loved plants and nature. 

The entire time, Kyra held your hand. You two shared laughs, and jokes, and just talked. You’d dreamed about doing this with Kyra for the months that you’d known her, and the feeling of finally being able to go on a date with the girl was one that you hoped you’d never forget.

When the time came to drop you back off at your house, you and Kyra stood on your doorstep again. She held both of your hands, now, and smiled at you in a way that made the dimples on her pretty cheeks stand out. 

“Can I kiss you now?” Kyra asked, sounding only a little bit impatient when she did so. You intentionally paused just for a moment, before you grinned at Kyra.

“I would like that.” You answered. Before you could blink, the girl tugged you into her and wrapped her arms around your upper back. You only had a moment to giggle, allowing your eyes to flutter closed as you tilted your head upward, catching Kyra’s lips with your own. 

Your hands gently came up to frame the girl’s face, allowing you to tilt her head just the way you wanted. You caught her bottom lip between your own, and you swore you melted right on the spot. 

Your head was in the clouds, the warmth of the other girls’ lips on your own enough to set you on fire. In fact, you swore that your skin was burning, and as you began to part, Kyra pulled you right back in again. Kyra kissed gently, and sweetly, and her lips tasted like honey from whatever sweet she’d eaten while the two of you had been walking through the garden. 

Finally, after a few more moments, you two did part. However, Kyra didn’t let you go quite yet, looking at you but almost as though she wasn’t truly there. 

“Kyra?” You asked, unable to contain the smile from your voice, your lips seeming to have a mind of their own in the way that they refused to stop grinning. 

The girl finally seemed to come back to herself and grinned back at you, smiling.

“Hi.” Kyra said.

“Hi, love.” You said back, and Kyra’s smile grew impossibly wider.

“Can I come in?” Kyra asked, and you laughed a little bit. Only Kyra would have the audacity to invite herself into your home after a first date.

“Oh?” You didn’t even know what to say, halfway between turning the girl down just to tease her further, while also wanting to kiss her more and more and more.

“Please? You told me that once I took you on a date, I could kiss you all I want. I’m ready to cash that in!” Well, you couldn’t argue with that logic, could you?

The rest of the afternoon was spent with you in Kyra’s arms, kissing and only half-watching the movie that Kyra had insisted upon putting on.

Of course, it was Kyra’s fault as well that the entire team caught on to your antics when you showed up in a hoodie the next morning, a light hickey just below your jaw poorly hidden with makeup. Now, it was your turn to become the team’s gossip, but you wouldn’t have changed it for the world.

#kyra cooney cross x reader #woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso one shot #harper writes

[qveerthe0ry]

Your Ride, Best Trip

Summary: You sleep with your boyfriend Marcus for the first time Word Count: 9,001 Pairing: Marcus Pike x f! afab! reader Rating: 18+ Explicit Warnings: 18+ mdni, first time, vaginal fingering, oral (m! and f! receiving), unprotected PIV, squirting, creampie, dirty talk, so much fluff, so much kissing Betas: @for-a-longlongtime and @perotovar as ALWAYS. Love you homies I'm kissing u both <3 A/N: I have nothing to say for myself this time

Marcus Pike is perfect. 

He’s your dream man. 

He’s sweet. He brings you flowers just because, and he’s remembered your go-to coffee order, and he never goes to bed without texting you goodnight.

He’s effortlessly kind. He offers to walk your dog for you when you aren’t feeling well enough to get out of bed, and he always does the dishes when you cook for him, and he makes sure his bathroom is stocked with all the personal products you use at your own place. 

He’s fucking handsome. His smile is straight and pearly white, and his big brown eyes warm you up, and the way his broad shoulders fill out those suits he wears to work never fails to make you weak in the knees. 

He’s so smart, and he’s so funny, and he’s all yours… finally. 

See, when he hadn’t so much as kissed you by your third date, you wigged out a bit. 

How could you not? He’d been so thoughtful and caring and all you wanted was to feel those pillowy, soft lips against your own. 

So you asked him what was up, and he told you.

Divorced. Broken engagement. A whole year of therapy to pinpoint what went wrong, what he could change, and how he could do better, how he could feel better. And then, he said, he found you— like fate— when he wasn’t even looking, when he least expected it. 

You had no problem taking it slow. You’re still convinced you’d wait forever for him, as perfect as he is.

After too many little dates to count, he told you he wanted to be your boyfriend, if you’d have him.

You told him you’d love for him to be your boyfriend, of course. You’d be crazy not too. 

And then he finally kissed you.

It was slow and hesitant, but it still made your heart race, made your stomach do flips. He cut it off before it could become anything more than chaste, and left your front door with a sheepish goodnight. 

You’ve kissed a lot since then. You never really enjoyed kissing that much, before. It always just seemed like a means to and end, a formality before moving on to other things. 

But now it’s one of your favorite ways to pass the time with him. Waiting for an Uber to take you downtown, finally getting to his place on Friday after a long work week, cuddling in bed together with an old movie playing.

You haven’t made out with anyone this much since high school. And you enjoy it, you do, but Jesus Christ, he’s been your boyfriend for three weeks now and you need him. 

It doesn’t help that he touches you like you’re the last person on earth. His hands are so big and they’re gentle and electric when they find the bit of skin just under the hem of your shirt. 

You think it’s going to happen, this time. Friday night takeout has long been abandoned in the living room. You’re in his bed, in his clothes, and his pinky is teasing at the waistband of his sweats that you’re wearing. 

His tongue in your mouth is making you dizzy, and there’s no more blood in your brain with all of it rushing between your legs. You whimper, and you arch against him, and you want him so bad but you can’t say it. You’d feel bad, making him rush when he’s made it clear he wants to take things slow. 

When his lips leave yours, you open your eyes, and find his pupils obstructing all the deep, dark brown you adore. 

You have to squeeze your thighs together for a miniscule amount of relief. He notices. Of course he does. Damn that Quantico training. 

“Sweetheart—”

His eyes flicker down to your lips. You’re sure they look obscene, red and slick from nearly an hour of him sucking and nibbling on them. 

“I’m sorry,” you whisper. 

You don’t know why you say it, but you are sorry. You feel so bad for wanting him like this, desperate and aching in his bed, over eager. 

“Don’t be,” he shakes his head and gives you a reluctant smile, a smile that tells you you’re going to fall asleep extremely sexually frustrated. 

But it’s fine. He’s so worth it. 

You give him a soft smile back, and lean in to peck his lips. But he pulls away with his brow furrowed. 

“What do you want?” 

His voice is gentle when he asks. So is his hand on your back, under his shirt you’ve claimed. But it doesn’t stop that fight or flight response from kicking in. 

“Nothing! Nothing, Marcus, I’m okay— I’m great. Just wanna cuddle.” 

But the creases in his forehead don’t smooth out, and his hand ceases the soothing circles across your spine. 

“You’re lying.” 

You sigh and close your eyes. 

“I’m not lying, I’m just— I don’t want to push you to move too fast.” 

You expect him to be angry. But when you open your eyes again, his own have taken on that puppy-like quality you usually love. Right now, it just makes you feel guilty. 

“I’ve been lying, too,” Marcus whispers. 

It’s your turn to scrunch your face up. Your blood runs cold, waiting for him to elaborate. A million scenarios run through your head at lighting speed— all worse and worse until your breathing picks up and you beg him with your eyes to just get on with it—

“I have a small dick.” 

His face is so flushed. He can’t meet your gaze.

He’s staring at the bedsheets between you, and you’re both just silent for a long, awkward moment. 

“I mean— the divorce and all that, it’s all true. And I did want to keep from moving too fast. But— the last few weeks I guess I’ve just been… stalling?” 

He finally looks up from the threads to gauge your reaction. 

“Marcus…”

“I get it, okay? If you wanna go. I know I lied, and you didn’t sign up for—“

“Marcus.”

You watch his shoulders raise and his mouth snap shut, and he looks terrified.

“I don’t want to leave. You didn’t lie. It’s just— you really think that would bother me?” 

He lets out a big breath, and the tension in his body eases up a little. 

“I don’t know. Most people were… bothered. I guess,” he shrugs. 

You cradle his jaw in your hand, let the day-old stubble tickle the pad of your thumb as you think about how to best navigate this conversation. 

Because saying ‘I don’t care’ seems too dismissive. But you don’t. You couldn’t possibly care less about what’s in his pants, when everything else about him has made you fall so, so deep already. But you don’t want to make it sound like it’s something you have to even bargain with, like the pros outweigh the cons, like it even is a con. Because it’s not. 

“I’m not bothered,” you finally tell him. 

He still doesn’t meet your eyes, in fact, he rolls his. 

“You don’t have to lie to me. It’s okay, I’ve heard it all. I know I’ve lead you on—”

“Jesus,” you cut him off, “what did— who made you feel this way?” 

He finally looks at you. His eyes are wide and he looks vulnerable and hesitant. You swipe away some hair that’s fallen flat across his scrunched forehead. 

“Everyone?” 

You sigh his name, and you’re tentative when you lean forward to kiss him, softly, when he lets you. 

He looks less terrified when you pull back. You try to smile, but this whole interaction has left such a bad taste in your mouth that it feels more like a grimace when your lips turn up. 

“That’s— Fucking awful, to be frank. Pardon my French.”

He chuckles, but his gaze falls away from your face again. His sheets are not that interesting to look at. 

“Really, Marcus. I mean— maybe if someone’s just looking for a hookup, then I get it. You want something specific, whatever. But why would you ever think you were leading me on?

All you’ve done is be sweet to me, and shown interest in me, and taken care of me. Unless you’re like, secretly an ax murderer, or committing some kind of major tax fraud, you haven’t led me on at all.”

He’s still not looking at you. Why won’t he look at you, and believe you? 

“I don’t want to sound dismissive. I understand you’re insecure about it. I’m insecure about some things too. I don’t want to invalidate that. But I need you to know that the last thing I care about is how big your dick is.” 

There. He’s looking at you. He looks a little mortified, but he’s finally meeting your gaze. 

“Really?”

You scoff. 

“Really really.”

A reluctant smile tugs on the corner of his pretty mouth. 

“Why?”

“Because— now, don’t go getting a big head about this— you’re perfect. Like, everything about you. You’re sweet and you make me laugh and you’re gorgeous.”

His face flushes, but he lets you continue.

“And I’m in this, with you. I want this to go somewhere. And I think we’re super compatible.”

“Me too,” he whispers.

“Good, so… we’re on the same page then.”

You watch him lick his lips, and his hand that’s been loosely draped over your waist finally starts back up, drawing little circles across the base of your spine. 

“And… There’s other reasons,” you mumble, voice low with a hint of mischief.

“Oh yeah?” 

“Yeah… For one, your hands.”

“My hands?”

He emphasizes his question with a squeeze of your hip, and you giggle at the way it tickles, and also with a bit of embarrassment. 

“Yeah… They’re uh… big. I look at them a lot. Honestly surprised you haven’t noticed.”

He huffs, lets his big hand travel further up the shirt on your back. 

“Your nails are always trimmed, and— your fingers are long and thick. I’ve thought about them a lot.”

He breathes your name, and now you realize you’re the one avoiding eye contact. When you look back, his pupils are all blown out again, and it spurs you on.

“And I love to give head.”

“Jesus.”

“And the bigger it is, the quicker I get tired. I could stay down there all night, if my jaw didn’t get sore.” 

“Sweetheart—”

“Really, it’s one of my favorite things, making someone fall apart under my mouth. But I hate gagging and choking my way through it. It’s tedious.”

He says your name again, this time with a warning tone. 

You bite your lip to keep anything from tumbling from your mouth unwarranted. 

“You’re not lying.”

His eyes dart back and forth across your face, and you shake your head in lieu of opening your mouth again. 

“Fuck.”

It’s the first time Marcus has cursed in front of you. Your eyebrows shoot up in surprise, and your clit throbs. 

“I’ve thought about you so much. Your lips, you have to know, right? How plump and full they are… I think about them at night, when I’m touching myself.” 

That’s convincing enough, apparently. Before you can embarrass yourself any further with your confessions, he surges forward to press those plush lips against yours and groans into your mouth. 

His hand flattens against your back and pulls, manhandling you closer to him. Your fingers find his silky hair and tangle in the strands, holding on for dear life at this shift between the two of you. 

You can’t muster up an ounce of shame. Finally, you have Marcus where you want him, pressed against you. You hike a leg over one of his, getting it between your thighs for even the smallest amount of friction. 

You feel him gasp, chest inflating to press even closer against yours. It’s a rush, finally getting this after waiting so long. 

Your hands scramble to get under his white t-shirt. His skin is hot, even against your sweaty palms. There’s so much to feel, the slight swell of his stomach, and the muscle of his flank, the soft but firm pecs. 

You whine when he pulls away from your lips. He shushes you gently, and you open your eyes to watch his slick lips and his hooded eyes and flushed face disappear briefly, just quick enough to shed his shirt. 

Smooth, is the first thing that comes to mind. His tan skin has no hair above his belly button, just the errant freckle here and there. His nipples are peaked, and you reach out to press your thumb against one before your mind catches up to the action, before you realize you’re gawking. 

But when your hand stutters against his skin and you look up at him, he’s smirking, amused and turned on. You falter a bit, mouth open while you search for something to say, some sort of excuse as to why you’re devouring him like you’re starved. 

He saves you though, with his low, grumbled voice. 

“I think about you, too. All the time.” 

You dig your nails into his soft skin at his admission, scraping against his chest. 

“You know that? You think I haven’t had you a million different ways in my head?” 

Your heart stops beating, and you stop breathing, and the heat between your legs only gets heavier and wetter. 

“You want me to show you, sweetheart?”

Your heartbeat comes back as a rush in your ears, and you squeeze the meat of his pec as you nod. 

He kisses you again, licks at your lips until you suck his tongue into your mouth, and now it’s just filthy. No more pretense, it’s been months of pretense, and neither of you have any more patience. 

His fingers seek out your own nipple, a tight bud protruding through cloth, and he rolls it between his fingers gently over the material of his shirt. 

“You come over and wear my clothes like this, and you think you don’t drive me crazy?” 

The words are grumbled into your mouth, against your cheek, then your jaw and your neck as he seeks out more of you to kiss. 

“I don’t wash them when you leave. I wear them and I smell you all day and it makes me feel insane.”

You mewl at his admission. Everything he says now is so fucking raw, now that you’ve broken down his walls. He shushes you again, grabs the hem of his shirt to help you pull it over your head. 

He curses when he sees you. It’s the first time. You’ve both been toeing this line of modesty, and maybe you’d be more nervous if you weren’t careening toward the pleasure he’s promised you. 

He coaxes you to lie on your back beside him, and his mouth works a slow trail down the side of your neck, nipping and suckling until he finally gets your nipple in his mouth. You arch into it, encouraging him with a hand tangled in his thick hair. You feel his groan reverberating around your rib cage when you scrape your nails back and forth across his scalp. You need him, like nothing you’ve ever craved before. 

“Marcus—”

“I know, I know.”

His syrupy voice isn’t as soothing as his lips, though, when he cranes his neck back up to kiss you again. He nips there, a sneaky distraction from the way his fingers trail down to circle your navel, and then even farther, teasing the hem of his sweatpants you’re wearing. His featherlight touch makes you jolt when it finally registers, your stomach jumping under his fingers. 

“Can I?”

You’re nodding against his lips, into the kiss, and then whining when his hand breaches the waistband. Those thick, long fingers flutter across your mound. Your breath catches on every wiggle. But when his fingers splay out, half on one side of your slit and half on the other, teasing your lips, you exhale hard and press up into his touch. 

“Oh, are you that sensitive?”

His voice is half-teasing, half-shocked, as he mumbles into the tingling skin of your neck. 

“It’s just you.” 

And it’s true. There’s no ego-stroking here. You’ve waited too long to get this and now you’re fiending, any touch is a relief. 

And he’s huffing into that skin under your ear, like you’re playing it up too much, but he bites down on the skin anyway and groans. 

“So sweet, huh?”

You make a disgruntled noise but there’s not enough blood in your brain to get your point across. Instead, you wrap your hand around his meaty forearm and force his fingers lower, where you know your underwear is a soaking, sticky mess. 

He curses and pulls away from his assault on your neck to look at you. You’re certain you know what he sees, blown out pupils and sweat-slick forehead and bitten, shiny lips. 

“That’s all for me?” 

There’s a sly smile tugging at one side of his mouth, just barely there, but you see it in the way one dimple grows more than the other. You nod in answer, scrape your nails up the hair on his arm and watch him shudder.

But he retreats from between your legs, and chuckles when you squeeze his forearm tighter in protest. The sound makes you shiver, all low and gruff and teasing. But he softens the blow with another one of his kisses, heated and sloppy and needy. His hands, always so gentle and careful and big, find the creases between your hips and thighs. It makes you arch up into the touch and whimper again, and you wonder briefly if you’ll ever not be desperate for him again. 

He watches your face twist up when he pulls away from you, watches the way your breasts move with every heave of your lungs. His dark eyes travel lower, where his thumbs sear circles into your hips, and his tongue swipes across his lower lip. 

“Can I take these off, sweetheart?” 

The tenderness in his voice fills you with a completely different warmth, white hot flames simmering into a blaze of feelings you aren’t sure you’ve ever truly experienced before. You let it consume you. 

“Yes, please.”

He hums a satisfied little noise as his fingers hook under the waistband. He takes his time, making sure to catch your underwear as well. It’s a sight, his huge hands working your only remaining cover down, down, until you’re bare to him and he’s gently cradling each of your calves to fully remove the last of your clothes. 

Those hands work their way back up, attentive, memorizing the valleys and peaks of your flesh, the nuances of your skin, the way it bends over your joints. Before you know it, he’s propped himself up beside you once again, one arm supporting his weight so his other hand can work its way between your thighs. 

You drag your eyes away from his fingers to look at him, only to find him focused on your face. 

It’s a few long moments before either of you move or speak or breathe. It’s you who breaks the spell, only because you know you’re at the very edge of control. 

“You sure you’re ready?”

You reach up to cradle his neck in your hand. It’s hot to the touch, and so are his ears, the tips of them burning a cute pink where your thumb grazes them. His eyes get softer and crinkle even more around the edges.

“I’m positive… can’t believe I psyched myself out for so long.”

He huffs and shakes his head at himself. You’re ready to kiss that apprehension away again, but his hand on your thigh pulls, as gentle as everything else he’s done, to spread yourself open for him. 

The cool air makes your breath catch in your throat. Or maybe it’s the anticipation. So close to what you’ve thought about every single night for weeks. Months– since the day you first met, if you’re being honest. 

He keeps his eyes on you, and you hold his gaze even though it burns. But only until his fingers brush you. Your eyelids flutter shut at the feeling, mouth open wide in shock at how electric just one simple touch feels. 

His finger glides so easily around your opening, and you hear him gasp as he explores all the slick.

“You’re soaked.” 

His voice is thick with awe, as another finger joins in on the fun, gathering up your arousal. But they don’t breach, and you feel like he’s teasing, readying a whine in protest. 

The noise gets stuck in your throat when they trail up, gliding through your swollen folds. They find your clit, full and begging for attention, and circle with hardly any pressure. 

Oh, he’s fucking good at this. 

There’s no apprehension in his movements. It’s like he’s read a fucking manual on how to press all your buttons. The light, slick touches are building up that heat in your gut quicker than you can ever remember with anyone else. 

You’re stunned silent, eyes pinched shut and your head tilted back into the mattress, digging in for even an ounce of grounding. 

“That feel good, sweetheart?”

Your vocal chords come back to life, finally, as you whimper from the gentle drag of his fingers. 

“You have no idea.”

He chuckles, and you open your eyes to see his own still trained on your face. 

“I think I do,” he mumbles.

He shifts, presses his hips into you, and the hard line of him digs into your side. 

You clench around nothing, and your clit pulses under the pads of his fingers. He curses and responds to the needy little bud, applying more pressure and speeding up those little circles. 

All the while he grinds his hips into you, soft little movements that sync up with his hand, and you want him so bad. You’re losing patience by the second, the only thing keeping you from pouncing is the way his fingers work you over so perfectly it’s like you’re touching yourself. 

You’re not, though, and that becomes perfectly clear when one thick, long finger presses lower and slips into you. It slides so easily, despite how much girth it has on one of your own. You both make stuttered noises at the feeling, and Marcus’ lips capture your own to let them mingle together. 

Your hips egg him on, lifting and shifting, but he is teasing now. It’s a slow drag in and out, his finger pin straight, and if he hadn’t been so diligent this entire time you’d think he didn’t know what he was doing. 

But you whine, a soft plea of his name into his mouth, and he obliges. That thick finger crooks up, just as the heel of his hand flattens against your clit, and stars bloom behind your eyelids. 

You groan, and he laps it up before his lips leave yours. 

“That’s it. This what you needed?”

A pathetic whimper comes out in response as you nod your head. His finger presses harder into that perfect spot, and his palm slides over your wet clit. You’re clenching around him, savoring the feeling of being filled by him, working your hips down and back to meet his motions. It grows and grows, that feeling in your gut, so close that you can’t be bothered to worry about what needy noises you’re making.

He mutters another frantic curse, and his hips jump to press his cock into you harder. 

“I gotta taste you, sweetheart. Can I? Will you let me?” 

You nod so fast you’re surprised your head doesn’t detach from your neck. He soothes that frenzied part of your brain with another kiss, slips his finger out of you, and moves to get between your legs. 

You thread your fingers through his hair to keep him still, even if it’s just for a moment. Your legs instinctively wrap around his waist, and the drag of his sweatpants across your sensitive center makes you arch up into him for more, to seek out more friction. 

He just huffs a laugh against your lips and angles his hips away, denying you the simple pleasure of grinding against the tent in his pants. 

“Not yet. Let me take my time with you. You’ve waited so long, right? I’ll make it up to you, you just gotta let me.” 

You huff. 

You should’ve known Marcus would be just as much of an infuriating tease in the bedroom as he is outside of it. The trivia dates and the cocky smirk he always sported when he won, the little bets he’d make on how a movie’s plot was going to twist, the refusal to ever let you pay for dinner— it’s all adding up now, and you can’t believe you didn’t expect it. 

Marcus Pike is a smug little prick underneath the humble, sheepish grins, and it’s hot and it’s yours. 

“Put your money where your mouth is,” you breathe. 

He chuckles and trails said mouth down the length of your naked body. You watch his plump lips explore your skin and leave wet patches littered in their wake, shiny little stakes claiming you. His five o’clock shadow is just long enough to abrade your skin a bit, delightful little pricks that make your muscles jump involuntarily.

He makes it to your mound before looking up at you. His brown eyes are mostly obstructed by his pupils, but they shine all glassy in the dim lamplight of his bedroom. His shitty grin has faded and he looks determined, and it steals the breath from your lungs. 

He teases some more, of course he does. His lips peck and tickle the creases of your thighs, the skin of your outer lips, and the very tip of your hood before you finally see his pink tongue slip out. 

All of a sudden you can’t watch, can only let your head fall back and close your eyes and drown in the anticipation. 

The pointed tip of his tongue just barely grazes you, tracing a razor-thin line from your dripping hole all the way to your mound. It tickles, and your breath comes in faster as he does it again, and again, and again. 

Just before you can beg for more, he flattens his tongue and drags it up your slit. He laps at your folds, slow and calculated, and the satisfied noises tumble out of you as you feel his taste buds glide against you. 

All you can think to do is find his hair and use it to hang on. Your legs spread wider, and he takes the encouragement. His tongue finds your clit, so swollen and sensitive with need by now. He circles it, then wiggles his tongue back and forth, playing with it, playing with you. He shakes his head from side to side to give you more, presses even more firmly, and the heavy feeling in your gut tightens tenfold. 

Your hips start to move on their own, rocking up into his face, helping his motions along. He groans with it, muffled and wet between your legs. 

A delirious thought gets stuck in your horny brain. You don’t know how you’ll ever let him leave this spot between your legs now that you’ve finally got him here. It’s so wet and warm and incredible, and your nails dig into his scalp to drive the point home, to try and lock him here forever. 

His voice snaps you from your reverent thoughts, thick and deep. 

“Fuck, sweetheart. You taste so good, looks so fucking pretty.” 

You brave a glance down at him, his red soaked mouth and his dark eyes that are boring holes into your pussy. One of his hands releases its grip on your thigh to glide across the dripping mess of your center. He toys with you, spreading you open with splayed fingers, watching the way your folds bend to his whim. With it exposed and protruding and aching for his touch, he leans down to wrap his plush lips around your clit and suckle. Curses fly from your lips at the concentrated attention, and it’s so so so fucking good you’re sure you’re going combust. 

His hand slips lower, and his mouth doesn’t stop, and you’re dangerously close to tipping over the edge. And then two thick fingers slip easily into you, immediately seeking out that spot inside you and tapping there. 

It’s blinding pressure overwhelming the two places you need him most. He drums up a rhythm that would remind you of a dance, maybe, if your brain were cognitive enough to form a coherent thought. Down with his head, engulfing your clit, and up with his fingers, squeezing that spongy spot inside you. Over and over, he works you with soft grunts against your cunt until your fingers lock up in his hair and your hips start to shake. 

“Please don’t stop,” you pant, “I’m so close.” 

To his credit, and this is more than you can say for the majority of men you’ve been with, he doesn’t stop. He doesn’t slow down, nor does he speed up. He keeps at you exactly how you need it, moaning strung-out little noises into your center until you’re dropping. 

All the wind is knocked out of you. Your hips jolt into his face and he takes it in stride, lapping at your clit when the seal of his lips is broken from your erratic movements. You tremble through it, clench around his fingers, and squeeze his head between your thighs as you ride it out on his tongue. 

As the shivers roll through you, Marcus’ fingers slow, and though he can’t remove his tongue from you because of how your legs have him in a headlock, he stills his tongue so you can take the last bit of what you need from him. 

His breathing is just as heavy as yours, wheezing out moans and muffled words of encouragement. When you feel yourself slipping down from your peak, you let go of the death grip on his hair, and open your legs, and grant yourself a few deep breaths before you dare to look down at him. 

He carefully, cautiously pulls his fingers out of you. A comforting ‘shhh’ is cooed into the sweaty skin of your thigh when you make a strangled sound. Both of his hands splay out on either hip, a light and grounding touch accompanied by the kisses he’s dropping all over the skin he can reach. 

Finally, you grant yourself a peek down at him. The first thing you notice is how his broad shoulders are, heaving with baited breath. Then, his normally pristine hair, sticking out every which way and then some from your frantic fingers. 

His face is red, you guess from exertion. Or maybe you really did restrict some blood flow. Christ. That’s what he gets, being so goddamn good at that. 

And then his lips. His lips. Those lips that up until now you’ve only ever kissed or dreamed of. They’re even more plump, swollen and slick with you, shining just like his chin is. 

You don’t know what to say. You know you want to kiss him. Funny, considering that’s how all this started, but you’re dying to see what you taste like on him. 

Luckily, he breaks the silence, after licking those delectable lips and clearing his throat. 

“So… How’d it compare?” 

Your face contorts on its own, surprised at the sudden and intrusive question. 

“Pardon?”

But then he laughs, pressing those wet dimples into your heated skin to hide them. 

“To all those thoughts you told me about. How’d I do?” 

You laugh too then, a weary huff of breath as you sit up. 

“Don’t go fishing for compliments,” you tease, though there’s not much heat behind it with how out of breath you still are. 

He goes to respond, but you get a hand in his hair again and coax him up. You meet him halfway, swallowing his surprised noise when you finally get those pillowy lips against yours and lick at them, his tongue, his teeth, until you aren’t sure what taste is you and what is him. Until you realize you’re flat on your back again as he hovers over you, still between your thighs. 

You both hum when the kiss breaks, and you rest your forehead against his, nuzzle his nose and sigh at the floaty feeling in your limbs. 

“Better,” you whisper. 

You feel his grin bump into your own. You nip at it, playful and languid as you finally begin to get some of your bearings back. 

And then you’re shocked back into the realization that there’s all this smooth skin right in front of you, this hunk of a man hovering above, the one who just melted your brain into a fuzzy little mold of itself. You grab his hips as he licks into your mouth and scrape your nails up his flanks, unhurried, while the touch makes him shiver. 

You feel out the strength in his pecs, those broad shoulders you often daydream about, and then you push. Catching him off guard, he gasps as he loses his balance and tumbles to the side, and then laughs when you press him into the mattress and straddle his hips. 

You laugh along with him, but it slowly tapers off as his hands find your naked skin— your stomach and hips and back and then your ass, where it hovers just above that bulge in his sweatpants. 

He’s looking up at you with what you can only describe as horny apprehension. 

His eyelids droop over his dilated pupils, but his brow is all pinched up in the middle. His mouth hangs open, like he wants to say something, but nothing comes out. 

So you kiss him, soft and gentle, as gentle as he’s been with you all night. His sigh washes heat across your cheeks, and you feel him relax under you just a little. 

But then you shift in his grasp, lower your ass, and press your soaking center to his crotch. You whimper at the feeling of his sweatpants dragging across your sensitive, wet cunt. He moans and bites at your bottom lip maybe a little too hard. 

But it’s okay. He pulls away and pants your name and you settle there, your weight pressed down on his cock. Your lips find that smooth patch in his stubble, biting that chiseled jaw, licking down the curve of his neck, his shoulder, up to his ear. You delight in every goosebump you draw, and breathe in his scent before you speak up. 

“Will you let me suck it?” 

All his breath rushes out in a big gust. His fingertips dig into your naked sides, and he nods. 

“Please.” 

It’s a barely-there whisper. You pull away from that silky soft skin where his pulse is hammering to check his reaction. 

He’s begging with his eyes. It makes you smirk, sitting up straighter, trailing your fingers down the front of his body until you reach the drawstring of his sweatpants. 

You’re still sitting on his groin, though. You give a little playful wiggle, and his hips rock up to grind harder. But you don’t want to tease any more. Every moment spent teasing him, you’re also denying yourself, and you’ve been patient for long enough. 

So you shift down the bed, nestled between his legs, and get to work on the tie of his pants. Every time your fingertips brush the hair below his belly button, he sucks in a breath. You finally get the thing untied, and look up one last time for permission before you start to drag the material down, grabbing his boxers as you go. 

Your eyes stay trained on his face instead of staring at his crotch, especially as he wiggles a bit and lifts his legs to remove his pants. You don’t want to stare, and you also don’t want to not look, you don’t want him to be uncomfortable at all with you. 

You want it to be perfect. You want to make him feel the way he makes you feel. 

He nods his head, and you cease averting your eyes to trail down his body, the bushy happy trail and the neatly trimmed hair above his cock and his cock. 

His little cock. 

It is, indeed, on the smaller side. Probably one of the smallest you’ve seen in real life. Three and half or four inches long, if you had to guess. 

And it’s so pretty, cut and on the thicker side, the slightest upward curve that makes your pussy tighten around nothing. 

You dive right in, press your nose to all the hair while you kiss at the base of him, humming when his cock twitches against the side of your face. He smells so good and clean, like always, but down here there’s even more of that Marcus smell that always lingers beneath his soap and cologne, salty and warm.

When you drag your eyes up to him, his head’s thrown back against the pillows, not looking at you. You want him to look, you want him to see how much you’re going to enjoy this. 

You’ll make him look, one way or another. 

For now, you just lathe your tongue up the underside of him, then back down to tickle his balls, all the while enjoying how his prick jerks under the attention. 

He’s making little noises, mostly puffs of breath and gasps, and his hands twist up in the sheets beside you. You grab one of them, slow and steady, and lead it to the back of your head. 

And then, you finally get your lips wrapped around the head of his dick, and you slowly sink down until he’s entirely in your mouth. 

It’s not until your nose presses against the flatness above his cock do you hear him release a strangled groan. That’s when you look back up at him and find him staring down, mouth agape, locked on your mouthful of him. 

You pull back up, wiggling your tongue as you go, memorizing the ridges and hairs and veins. Your eyes are locked on his, and his are locked on your lips, so you try to give him a show. 

You open your mouth and stick out your tongue, nod your head up and down to let his cockhead tickle your tastebuds. A gruff noise leaves him, hearty and hoarse, and you want to smile but you’re not in a position to. 

Instead, you flick your tongue against that little band of tissue just under his slit, and his hips stutter as his grip on the back of your head tightens. 

“Fuck, sweetheart.”

Now you do smile, your lips upturned against the head of his cock, and it jerks against your mouth while you kiss it, until you envelop it once more. 

You hum around him, at the weighted feeling of him occupying your mouth, how smooth it feels against your tongue and how nice it is to take him all the way in and not gag or choke or drool. 

It makes your cunt ache, makes you crave him even more, makes you want to be full of him everywhere. 

You reach a hand down to touch yourself. You’re still dripping, can feel it all slipping from your entrance and cooling your skin in the air conditioning. You’ve had just enough time to recover from the mess Marcus made of you. You’re sensitive but not too sensitive, when you trace your clit with your fingertips and moan around the mouthful of cock. 

“Oh fuck, are you touching yourself?”

Your eyes flicker open and look up to him. He’s clenching his jaw, grinding his teeth as his nostrils flare. You hum and nod your head to answer, his cock slipping back and forth through the ring of your lips. He whimpers, and his head tips back against the mattress again, and it makes you speed up the efforts on both him and yourself. 

He curses, soft little chants, kneading the back of your neck in his big hand as you suck him in over and over. You close your eyes and lose yourself in it for a bit, the way he slips so easily in and out, the way his hips move just a little, like he’s trying not to but he can’t help it. The sounds, his grunts and your sloppy mouth and your fingers working over your slick folds. 

He says your name. 

You hum, use your free hand to play with the fuzzy skin of his balls. 

He says your name again, and this time it’s urgent, almost panicked. 

“Sweetheart, stop, please.”

You do, immediately. You open your mouth wide and let him fall from your lips and unhand him while you look at his exerted face. 

“Are you okay?”

He huffs, and his cock bobs beside your face. 

“I’m so okay. I just— did you want me to…? It’s okay if you don’t, I just didn’t want it to be over—”

“Marcus.” 

His heated babbling stops as he clamps his mouth shut. His broad shoulders lift and drop with his heading breath.

“Do you want to fuck me?” 

You smooth your hands across the scattered hair on his thighs when you ask. His prick twitches again at your question. 

“I— Yeah. Yes. I do.”

He looks almost guilty about it, with his wide eyes and the bashful expression spreading across his face. 

“I want you to fuck me so bad,” you tell him, “I’ve wanted it for way too long.”

His breath leaves him in a shuddery exhale, something like relief or awe. 

“Yeah? You still want it?” 

His hand skates from the back of your neck to your jaw, his thumb brushing the apple of your cheek. 

“Please, Marcus. Give it to me.” 

You turn your head to kiss his thumb, a sloppy little peck before you take it into your mouth. You smile around it when he groans, and bite it before it slips away. 

“Can you get on the edge of the bed for me?” 

You can, but not without throwing a cheeky ‘yes sir’ his way. You’re not sure if the noise he makes is from arousal or a lack of  amusement, but there will be plenty of time to explore that later. 

For now, you do as he says. You scoot so your ass is just about to fall off the side of his bed. The wooden bed frame is the perfect height to rest your heels on, and as Marcus slips a pillow under your head, you’re as comfortable as ever.

The mattress dips when he gets up to stand in front of you. The lamplight from the nightstand is really doing things for him. The slight sheen of sweat on his chest glistens, as does the wetness at his temples where his hair is starting to curl up. All those lean muscles have never been more apparent than they are now, the golden glow creating beautiful shadows across his naked body. 

He’s so hot. 

It doesn’t help that his big, warm hands snake up your bare thighs as he gets between them. His small dick stands at attention, pointing toward the ceiling, and you feel your pussy spasm with anticipation. 

“Please,” you whisper. 

He nods, steps closer as you spread your legs wider and wiggle even further off the bed. 

“Perfect, sweetheart.”

He leans over you with one hand on the bed to brace himself. The other is wrapped firmly around the base of his cock, and he looks down to watch it as he glides it through your slit. 

“Are you ready?”

You nod and hum your affirmative. He takes the go-ahead and his cockhead slides across your clit, down, so slowly, until it catches on the rim of your hole and you both gasp at the feeling. 

You look down to watch too, lifting up on your elbows to see the moment your pussy lets him sink inside, fluttering around him, engulfing his prick one inch at a time. 

You knew it. You fucking knew his cock was perfect but still you’re shocked at the way the curve makes him drag across your upper wall. And when his hips are flush with yours, all that pressure is concentrated at that bundle of nerve endings inside of you, and you’re going to lose your mind if he doesn’t move.

“Oh fuck.”

You let yourself flop back in the bed, but reach for his hand that’s supporting his weight. Your nails scrabble for purchase against the skin of his wrist as you curse again, your walls contracting around him as you tense. 

“Fuck, Marcus, please.”

You’re so far past caring about how desperate you sound. You need him, the textbook definition of it; it’s an absolute necessity that he fucks you. 

He curses, and you realize you’ve closed your eyes. When you open them, his jaw is hanging and he’s looking at you, your face, like it’s something he’s never seen before. Like he’s shocked you’re here in front of him. 

But his hips are still, and you’re helpless to the way your own cant up to urge him, and finally he’s pulling back out. The slow drag against the most tender spot inside you rips a noise from your throat, involuntary. He pulls almost all the way out, until the head of his dick is kissing your opening and you can feel how he stretches the tight ring of muscles. 

And then in again, almost as slowly, and you’re already out of breath. The feeling steals all the wind from your lungs. It’s setting you on fire, perfect friction against just the right spot, the one that’s still tender and alight from your previous orgasm. 

“It’s so fucking good,” you manage to choke out. 

Marcus moans above you, and his hips snap into you, and his free hand finds your waist so he can dig his nails into your flesh. 

“It is, fuck, sweetheart, you’re so fucking good.”

A bead of sweat drips from his nose and lands on your belly, and that seems to make you snap out of it. 

“Fuck me. Fuck me hard, please, make me come.”

You watch his mouth quirk up into a pretty smirk, dimples on full display. 

“Yes ma’am.”

Your giggles only last for a moment, dissolving into a high whine when he slides out of you and back in, a harsh thrust of his hips that doesn’t let up. 

He fucks you. You try to watch; it’s too hot not to. His biceps flex respectively, one with his effort to hold himself above you, and the other where he holds you in place by your waist. 

His neck, the one vein there that’s protruding as he bares his teeth. The way his chest is rapidly rising and falling as he drives into you. His big brown eyes, even darker now as he succumbs to the feeling of you. 

But you just can’t keep your eyes open for long. It feels too good, you’re too close to the edge. Your insides are so tender and alight from the first time you came. Every single thrust inside you is taking you apart and building your second so quickly. Your eyelids droop closed and there’s already stars blooming behind them. 

His little noises are louder, like this. Grunts and gasps and moans, falling over you, all for you. 

“Fuck, I’m so close,” you warn him.

Your back arches to encourage his pace. His skin slaps into yours faster as he groans.

“Thank god, me too. What do you need, sweetheart?” 

Without a verbal answer to his strained question, you slip your hand down to press against your throbbing clit. 

“Shit, yeah, play with your pussy for me. I wanna— fuck— let me see you come. Looks so gorgeous.”

His voice is thick in his throat, and you work your fingers over yourself faster. You’re clenching wildly around him, you can’t help it. Every thrust in sets your nerves on fire, almost too much, but not quite. His grunts are turning into growls, uninhibited and primal. You feel the mattress shift and open your eyes to find him standing up straight. 

Both hands grab your hips now, and that little angle change makes him grind even harder into your g-spot, and you’re tumbling over the edge. It’s been building under the surface for so long that when it hits, it’s blinding. There’s static in your toes that washes over you, up, up, dragging a fiery heat with it that consumes your center and makes your head fuzzy. 

There’s screaming. 

You’re screaming. Your eyes are clenched so tight, as are your fingers, all your joints, your pussy, around Marcus as he fucks you through it with sloppy thrusts. 

“That’s it, oh my god, sweetheart, you— fuck. I’m gonna come, I’m— where?”

“In me.”

Your throat is scratchy when you answer, and you don’t have any time to elaborate on why that’s not a bad idea. You’re still coming, wave after wave of warmth rolling across your body, and you’re vaguely aware of how wet everything is, the sound of him fucking you even more obscene. 

His shout doesn’t quite rival yours, but you feel it when he empties inside of you. His cock jerks and and twitches, wringing out every little bit of pleasure from you, and you think you’re still coming, the pinpricks of pleasure are still too intense to be aftershocks. 

He stays pressed as deep as he can be as his stomach convulses and his thighs shake, just like yours do where they’ve somehow wrapped around him. Your eyes open again, and the lamplight is so bright now, his breathing is so loud. He grunts and pulls out a bit, then presses back in, and again, until it falters and his whole body slumps. 

His top half collapses onto you, his little breaths huff and tickle the tingling skin of your belly. Your own breath comes out in a weak moan, and it takes all the strength you can muster just to run your fingers through his sweaty hair. 

“Jesus,” he says.

Your name cascading off his lips in such a strung out voice that it makes you clench around him again. 

“Huh?” 

God, how are you ever going to move again? 

“You uh… Is that a common occurrence?”

Christ, why is he using such big words? 

“What are you talking about?” 

He clears his throat. 

“You like— You squirted?”

You laugh, one delirious huff. It makes his head rock on your jiggling belly. 

“I what?”

You gather the will to look down at him. His mouth is open, surprised and amused, and his eyes are shiny and bright. 

“Yeah, like, a lot.”

He’s still inside you but softening, and his own chuckles make him slip out. 

You lift up on your elbows as he stands up straight and the evidence is clear. The hair above his dick and high on his thighs is all dark and soaked. 

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry.”

The sheets on the edge of the bed are absolutely ruined, and you pray he’s one of those men that has a mattress protector. You’re more than a little mortified, and the way he’s staring at you, silent, is beginning to make you squirmy.

“What?” 

“Why do you seem so surprised?”

His fingertips are feather-light across your thighs, and you shiver. 

“I’ve never actually… done that? I would have warned you.”

He makes a pained sound, and those fingertips turn into a tight grip just above your knees. 

He doesn’t speak up. Instead, he lies on the bed beside you. He holds himself by his elbow, but that hand strokes your scalp while the other traces up and down your thigh, your hips, your breasts, anything he can reach. You avoid the topic at hand to relax into it, and you think you’re finally coming down as that boneless feeling washes over you. 

You’re vaguely aware of his cum dripping out of you, but the sheets are a lost cause anyway. You just watch his lax face, the way the wrinkles in his brow are all smoothed out, the way his eyes follow the patterns he’s drawing on your body. 

He catches you staring. His gaze meets yours and he smiles and it’s sunny. It warms you through, despite all the sweat that’s cooling on your body. 

“Hi,” he whispers. 

You giggle, and he does too. He tries to hold it in by biting his lip, but it’s no use. You will your exhausted bones to shift and face him, and he presses his lips to yours and they meld together.

It’s languid, unhurried, just reacquainting after too long apart. It feels a little goofy, with how you’re both smiling so wide, but it calms you into settling down after such a high. 

Both of your breathing seems even, when you part. 

“That was—”

“It’s never—”

You both chuckle. 

“Ladies first.”

You feel shy now. You can’t imagine why, but a fluttery feeling overtakes your stomach. 

“I was just gonna say… That was better than all those times I imagined it.”

You didn’t think it was possible, but his smile grows even wider. His eyes flicker from yours to the sheets between you, and you think maybe he feels as bashful as you do. 

“It’s never been that good.”

A sigh escapes him when he speaks, and his nervous gaze lands on you when his face falls into something more earnest. 

It takes your breath away. Because it’s never been that good for you either, and isn’t that such a perfect coincidence?

You tug him to you by the back of his neck, eat up the surprised little sound he makes against your mouth. 

“When can we go again?”

#Pedro pascal #Pedro pascal x reader #Pedro pascal smut #Pedro pascal fanfiction #Pedro pascal characters #x reader #marcus pike #marcus pike x reader #marcus pike smut #the mentalist

[cl3stevu]

Blip…

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara X f!reader

Plot: college classmates

Summary: Complicated relationship, heartbreak, and regret, also height difference.

Warnings: sweet beginning, Smut, aftercare, angst like a lot of it.. .

a/n: No use of y/n :), also I do like to think miggy is 6’9 😤 and reader is either average woman height or shorter that’s all on you either way he’s still giant. And you KNOW this man’s got a big one 🙂‍↕️

••••••••••••••••••••••

You remembered the first time you saw him.. interacted with him.. looked into his eyes, since that moment you searched for him everywhere, from class to just catch a glimpse of his curly brown hair.. to the coffee shop she found out he frequented. To the library she saw him studying at. And the moment you found out his name.. Miguel O’Hara.

Though at first it was just occasional greetings to each other or small interactions, you convinced yourself it was just a crush.. something that would go away, that was until your heart would sting when you saw him being close to other women.

Talking to them.. smiling at them, laughing with them she just wanted to be acknowledged, it hurt even if it shouldn’t have.

Until at some monthly frat party, you got dolled up to go with her friends.. the party was boring most of the time, until he spoke more to you..

his crimson eyes stared down at you a softness to them, his voice smooth and deep.. “Hey there hermosa..” that was the first time he looked at you the way you wanted.

Over the next few weeks you had gotten closer and closer, spending time studying together or sitting together in class they even went to the movies together, you felt happy about it you didn’t exactly know if it was romantic or not but he used a lot of nicknames for you.

Presently now, you and him had just gotten back to the campus from a party and he insisted he take her home, you accepted and they walked back to your unoccupied dorm since her dorm mate was staying at her boyfriends.

They talked about the party and whatever little dramas happened because of course some happened, you smiled and laughed with him, you had got to the front door of your dorm and you turned to thank him. “Well thank you for taking me back, I hope you get back safely.” You were cut off by Miguel speaking “How about I come in hermosa?, could watch a movie order a pizza..” his voice smooth while smiling down at her.

“Oh.. okay that’d be okay..” you got flustered but tried not to show it.. you went into your dorm room you showed him around, and you set up your tv and bed to be comfortable and changed into a soft matching pj set.

Miguel had ordered a pizza since you two were hungry and wanted to get a little more sober, they comfortably watched a movie together and ate..

After the first movie they decided to watch a romcom.. she was getting

comfortable and about halfway into the movie you felt his large hand on your as he looked over at you. “Eres bonita.” he said softly to X, you smiled softly with flushed cheeks. “You know hermosa.. I hope you don’t mind if stay longer then expected right?.”

“Well.. depends for what.” You said softly turning to face him better, Miguel smirked softly tucking a piece of hair behind your ear he then leaned in and kissed her cheek, his hands trailing up your body resting on your back pulling you closer to him, his lips went down on your jaw and softly kissing the front of your neck.

He pulled you onto his lap, his hands massaging the plush flesh of your thighs up your hips and waist to hold you close to him, his lips softly found yours as he gave you soft pecks while one of his hands went up into your hair to softly hold you still.

The feeling of everything he was doing made you feel warm and happy, you reciprocated the touches in a shy manner, hands resting on his chest as you two kissed softly. You had been suppressing fantasies and daydreams of similar scenarios happening the past couple months.

He pulled away and kissed your neck sucking softly leaving small bruises behind, you let out a small whimper which made him smirk as he gripped your waist tighter, he looked up at you as his voice you loved so much spoke. “may i?.” He asked as he gripped the bottom of your shirt.

You nodded a little too enthusiastically, his hands snaked up and pulled your shirt off while smiling softly he leaned down to kiss and leave more bruises behind on your shoulders and middle of your chest.

you held onto his arm while his hand went behind you and unclasped your bra, he threw it off as his hands came and cupped them both, making you bite you lip.

He rolled the sensitive nipples between his fingers, you gasped and your cheeks turned red at the feeling, he smirked as he took his own shirt and pants off as he lifted you up to do so. He hooked his fingers in the band of your shirts and panties to pull them down.

“Tan bonita .. solo para mi.” Miguel softly said as he looked over you, he laid you down on the bed as he softly pulled apart your legs and smiled, as he reached down to his pants pocket and pulled out a condom.

He pushed his boxers down, you felt a little shocked at the size as he rolled the condom down his length, looked back at you and pushed your legs back up as he used his fingers and softly rubbed your clit. Then up and down your slick folds your sweet whimpers and soft moans leaving your lips you felt so turned on and needy for this man truly.

“Just gotta help you relax cariño.” He said as he slid one of his thick fingers pushed inside your slit, you let out a surprised mewl while he softly massaged your insides.

“Miguel..” You said softly as you moaned and he added another finger inside, he leaned down to kiss your cheek. “That’s it tan buena .” He murmured against your cheek while his fingers pumped in and out of your hole, he hummed as he looked down at you and pulled his fingers out.

He held his length in his hand as he softly pushed it against your folds, coating his dick in your slick and biting his lip he slid the length up and down as the tip nudged against your clit. “So wet cariño..” you gasped softly and moaned quietly as he continued.

“You ready?.. just tell me if you need me to stop okay.” Miguel said as he looked at you, you nodded signaling you were ready as he held your leg with one of his hands as the other slowly pushed the thick head of his dick inside you.

You let out a moan as he entered, the feeling was blissful the way he filled you was so good you weren’t sure if you’d ever be able to live without it, he was gentle as he pushed inside and slowly pulled back out to thrust back in slowly, he thrusted slowly for a few minutes making love to you sweetly.

“More please-“ you muttered out absentmindedly needing more, he obliged and began thrusting a little faster and deeper as he held onto your soft thighs, he groaned and whimpered quietly as he looked down at you beneath him. Writhing from the pleasure he gave you.

Soon you felt that euphoric feeling in your stomach as you panted while he sped up some more, the sensation was amazing for both you gripped the sheets as you threw your head back moaning louder but trying to be quiet so others people in the dorm building wouldn’t hear you.. but it was getting to the point where you didn’t care who heard.

As long as you could keep feeling him inside you and holding you, you came and let out a whiny moan Miguel smiled as he cooed at how good you are for coating him, while he thrusted some more to reach his high. he shot his warm liquid into the condom he panted and leaned over to kiss you while he told you how good you did.

he pulled out as he threw the condom away, and walked off to your bathroom to come back with a warm cloth to clean you up, being gentle not to overstimulate you in the process, he put some new clothes on you and brushed your hair.

Tucking you into your bed and laying next to you, or as best as he could in the twin size down bed he caressed your hair as you fell asleep.. content with how the night went.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

That went on for a while, you and Miguel hadn’t really made anything official or put a name to it but you thought you had something special with him.. he took you out to eat to parties and well made love to you like no other, around 3 months passed like that it was sweet.

Today was another day you and him went out to the movies to watch a new movie, then went back to your dorm to well.. what else now you lay in bed together, just watching a random tv show then Miguel sat up. “Hey.. we need to talk.” He said as you sat up and nodded “okay what is it?.” You came up with small ideas on what it was, to what the plans were going to be for fall break to if he’d finally ask you the question.

He sighed and looked away slightly “look we can’t do this anymore.. I’m sorry, I just have been building a bond with this girl and I want to make it official with her.”

That made your heart drop, it felt like you’d been punched in your heart and made you feel.. angry?.

“wait.. then what was I?.” You asked in a confused hurt tone, his eyes widened slightly “well- I mean I just thought of us as something causal you know?, I mean isn’t it all it was?.”

How wrong he was, your brows furrowed into confusion. “I thought we had something special- is that all I was to you?, your causal fuck buddy?, I thought we were building something..”

“Look I’m sorry.. we can still be friends but I just want to focus on her.” He said as he got off your bed, you were hurt and anger and you had good reason to be, he led you on.

“Fine.. fine just go..” you said and he grabbed his things as he walked to your dorm door he looked back at you “I’m sorry again..”

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

The next few weeks after that happened you weren’t feeling the same.. the nice routine you and him had wasn’t there anymore, you began ignoring any gatherings or activities to avoid him.. to avoid the man who you thought liked you.

There was a void every time you went to any of the places you frequently visited with him, you saw other couples and felt a hole in your heart, you thought he would’ve felt the same..

You couldn’t stand the view of him and his new girlfriend.. that was supposed to be you and him, why did he do that to you?.. why would he.

The time you two spent together was sweet and nice.. who knew he just thought of it as nothing serious.

The rest of college went like that, you did only have a year left so that was relieving you left and started your career in business, it was hard to forget Miguel but it was for the best.

Maybe it wasn’t the time for you, but it was the wrong moment, whoever knew the answer to that question.

You were in love with Miguel, but never even made it to his top five.

Merely a blip in his lifetime.

• • • • • • • •

A/n: sorry if it’s bad 🤧it’s my first one and I’m trying to get better at writing again, if anyone has tips please tell me🤞 ALSO tell me if yall want part 2 (that will probably be longer too)

#atsv miguel #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara smut #x reader #miguel x reader #miguel smut #tw: smut #smut #angst #miguel angst

[fearful-quartet]

So I've been listening to The Magnus Protocol, and managed to get my dad into TMA last year so he's now listening to Mag Protocol too. So last night we were listening in the car to the latest statement, and I was half-jokingly saying which fear the statement sounded like mostly, to which my dad starts talking about how he doesn't think these statements and the O.A.I.R are connected to the Fears at all. I'm gonna try to put a cut for anyone not caught up but here's how this led to a theory of mine:

So Lena said to Gwen that there's good and bad forces that need to be balanced, but she never said which side of that the O.A.I.R. is part of, if any. I was noting this when it hit me.

Every single Magnus Protocol Statement so far has been about misfortune coming around due to perceived fortune or a fortunate opportunity becoming misfortune.

Let's break this down ep by ep so you see what I mean.

Episode One: It's a little hard to figure out what the fortune is to the misfortune, especially since it's mostly getting us used to the characters and the overall setup of the show, but for the first statement I think it's not the statement giver, but the husband. Harriet (the one emailing) says he sounded excited in an unsettling way (I am assuming the "he" she is talking about is her husband since she doesn't mention anyone else). When she meets him, or what has him, she describes that he laughed and laughed. Her misfortune was his fortune, his joy.

The second statement in that episode of course is about the Institute, but by way of a bunch of spelunkers looking for something intriguing to discuss. I haven't quite figured out the connection here but I am sure there is one, even if it's through the characters (aka Sam) finding something within it.

Two: A lot easier to connect to this. Daria is finding joy through getting this tattoo that allows her to change how she looks and alter her appearance immensely (and grotesquely). Enough said.

Three: This statement is one that overall I just don't understand tbh, but I think it shows the opposite? As in the victim is experiencing fear and discomfort the entire time, but towards the end you'll notice he gets much more happy and calm about the situation.

Four: This is again easy, it's about a violin that needs blood but will give you amazing talent if you pay that price, and horrible bloodshed if you don't. Self-explanatory.

Five: The guy is trying to make a living off watching and reviewing horror movies, gets excited at a live showing of one just for him, then realizes it's not what it seems and posts everyone should see it. Easy enough. (Very Grifter's Bone in energy)

Six: The introduction to infamous new tumblr sexyman, Needles. I shouldn't have to spell out how he gets pleasure from others in pain by needles.

Seven: All I gotta say is it's "all for a good cause" and you should get the picture.

Eight: Utilizes that uncanny fear of false hospitality if you ask me, but either way this statement is clearly taking something associated often as comforting and twisting it.

Nine: The dice literally affect fortune and misfortune and likely make the statement giver into the embodiment of fortune. 'Nuff said.

Ten: Bonzo needs no explanation for this in his introductory episode so let's move on.

Eleven: This one goes more into obsession territory than anything, which is another running theme of the show and another theory, but it also talks about how the sea brings comfort so that could be part of it. (Also I noticed the sneaky possibly Dr. David reference in there lol)

Twelve: Now I know what you're gonna say, "How is this one connected to fortune at all, Cal? It's about some woman being traumatized at a strip club!" Well think about this: what if it wasn't supposed to end in Bonzo? Gwen gave Bonzo an "assignment," didn't she? And Lena pretty much outright says that this statement was that assignment. So it's possible this is what happened after stopping the initial outcome.

Thirteen: The latest episode as of typing this, and the most clear with evidence. The man literally gains a fortune from his own misfortune, so ya know it's right there.

So every statement is a good thing turned bad or a bad thing turned good. So what? Magnus Archives had plenty of statements similarly framed, so why am I focusing on it here?

Because what is the tagline for Magnus Protocol again?

Fear takes many forms.

#the magnus archives #the magnus protocol #magpod #tmagp #tmagp spoilers #tmagp theory #alexander j newall #jonny sims #tmagp needles #tmagp mr bonzo #magnus archives #the magnus institute #podcast stuff #the magnus pod #magnus protocol #someone please tell me I'm not crazy #cause i swear im onto something here #we'll see i guess #but if im right im coming back to this and saying i told you so

[thisiscarlatrying]

modern!ellie hcs

notes/warnings: this is my first time doing something like this.. 😭😭 i hope u like it🙏 also, ellie and reader are dating and a lil of loser!ellie... that's just the way she is 😞

not proofread i think, i'll try to make it as good gramatically as i can but no promises 🙏🙏 (english is not my first language forgive me 😭😭)

| CONGO, SUDAN, PALESTINE | DAILY CLICK | DON'T BUY TLOU |

modern!ellie who cuts her own hair.. she REFUSES to go to a hair salon, she says it's a "waste of time and money"

modern!ellie who is kind of into fashion, i think she'd dress like this or like this...

also i just know she LOVES LOVES LOVES jorts, when spring starts that's ALL she'll wear

AND you guys just share clothes, you steal all her clothes and she steals yours

modern!ellie who wears a LITTLE bit of makeup, just mascara and chapstick. highlighter for special occasions

also her lips are so dry... 😭 she applies chapstick every five minutes and is constantly losing hers so you had to get her a one of those BIG vaseline things because she wouldn't stop stealing yours

modern!ellie who is a cat girl. you guys have like three cats together and they all look like the both of you

also their names are you guys' ship names until you ran out of name combinations and the names you had to choose were something like "sardine" or "chicken nugget"

modern!ellie who just loves kids cartoons like adventure time or the amazing world of gumball

modern!ellie who is CONSTANTLY daydreaming about being spidergirl and swinging around the city (spidergirl!ellie hcs coming soon... 🤭)

modern!ellie who plays minecraft and stardew valley for eight hours straight

modern!ellie who LOVES youtube and can't have a meal without watching a video

i KNOW she loves sinjin drowning. I DON'T MAKE THE RULES 🤷‍♀️

modern!ellie who has an INSANE vinyl collection.. it's all divorced dad music but she also owns a few of your favourite albums for when you come over<3

modern!ellie who is a barista. JUST HEAR ME OUT OKAY. while she's studying in college or something she works part time at a cafe... picture her with her little ponytail (like 17yo ellie) and her sleeves rolled up... UGHHH😭😭 she's so fine i can't.

talking about college... modern!ellie whose major is something nerdy like physics, astronomy or engineering... or maybe even architecture since she likes drawing so much

modern!ellie who was BEGGING you to move in with her until you finally agreed.. your apartment is the cutest thing ever, i feel like ellie's decorating style would be something like this:

modern!ellie who loves cuddling SOOOO MUCH. she's so touchy, she just IS.

modern!ellie whose burps make the entire building shake. it's actually insane and they smell so bad like.. you can smell the subway meatball sandwich she had for lunch earlier that day 😭😭

modern!ellie who constantly brags about you being her girlfriend, she never shuts up about you. and all of her instagram and tiktok posts would be about you (except from her outfit checks, of course)

modern!ellie who loves those cliche robbing movies, do you know what i'm talking about?? like those about robbing a bank or a museum and there's this incredibly unrealistic plan that comes out perfectly... THOSE kinds of movies. she eats them up EVERY. SINGLE. TIME.

modern!ellie who fights with people on the internet constantly 😭😭 she sees a comment on a tiktok video with an opinion different than hers? SHE'LL REPLY. and she's going to wait for HOURS for the other person to respond

modern!ellie who secretly loves laland. i said it.

modern!ellie who either sleeps for 12 hours straight or won't sleep for two days. there's no in between.

modern!ellie whose walk is so funny 😭😭 it's almost like she's jumping while she walks

modern!ellie who carries a picture of you absolutely EVERYWHERE

and your apartment is filled or pictures of both of you

modern!ellie who loves her friends. she makes those stupid tiktok slideshow trends about friends but posts them privately because she's embarrased about it 😢😢😢

modern!ellie who has a journal and writes every single thought that crosses her mind down. and when she doesn't have her journal with her she writes in her notes app

modern!ellie who secretly fucks with taylor swift's sad songs and cries to them

okay i think that's enough.. im getting a little too carried away 😭😭 lmk if you like them or if i should make a part two!!

#ellie williams #ellie headcanons #ellie williams headcanons #ellie williams hcs #ellie williams x reader #modern ellie #lesbian #wlw #tlou #tlou2

[popironrye]

The Lost Boys

Leisure Headcanons

💋 David 💋

Is a skilled fire arm shooter. (Loves the cowboy aesthetic)

Has his own gun hidden in the cave.

Doesn't get the chance too often, but will ride a horse when the chance arises.

Likes wood carving. Mostly non specific whittling into basic shapes or animals. It helps him relax.

Movie nut! When the boys go the Max's store to fool around, David makes sure to tuck a movie or two that catches his eye in his coat. Tends to watch them alone, all the questions from Paul would just grate on his nerves too much.

I imagine David would be like REALLY good at origami for no particular reason. He doesn't even try, just once the boys do it just because and he's just the best at it.

I don't know if vampires can emerge in water in the lost boys lore, but if they can David loves to swim. Chilling in water clears his mind.

💀 Dwayne 💀

Skater boi! Does a lot of sick tricks, but when you can levitate it's less impressive. XD

Doesn't care for guns, but likes archery. Hammers his own arrow heads. Dwayne and David like to pick a spot in the woods to shoot make shift targets.

A real book worm. Will spend a lot of time just silently reading for hours.

Takes up knitting from time to time. He prefers hand knitted blankets and throws rather then the store ones.

Likes to make jewelry. Made his own necklace.

Enjoys all types of puzzles. Cross word, jigsaw, and brain teasers.

Can sew and offers to sew up holes made in all the clothes the boys decide not to get new ones.

🌿 Paul 🌿

Can play the guitar.

Also likes to sing, and is pretty good at it. Wanted to start a band, but the other boys weren't up for it.

Has the biggest music collection and is always hogging the tabletop/cassette/cd player.

Amateur photography. Just likes to take photos randomly. Some are really artsy.

Got really into tie dye for a while. Although he might have just been high.

When he wants to relax, Paul really likes to stargaze. Laying outside the cave looking at the sky and hearing the waves of the ocean just makes him feel at peace.

When David isn't using the tv monitor, Paul enjoys quite a few video games. He also likes to take on the arcade and carnival games at the boardwalk.

🪶 Marko 🪶

Aside from pigeons, Marko will try to domesticate a number of animals to the cave, including stray dogs, cats, deer, badgers, squirrel, foxes, bats, and even a black bear once.

He did in fact not domesticate a black bear, but he did wrestle one.

He does his own patchwork on his jacket.

Like David, he likes to sculpt into wood, but he usually carves patterns and landscapes into more grand pieces.

He's also a skilled painter. Mostly he'll paint murals on sections of the cave David says is ok for him to paint on.

He collects sea shells on the beach.

He'll style the others hair. Especially David who he'll cut and dye in the way he likes best.

🔥Pack Activities🔥

Dart throwing. The bigger the target the better. David and Dwyane are very competitive at this one specifically.

Rollerblading. Put wheels on shoes, what more can you want?

Listening to music. The boys have very wide music tastes and sometimes they cross over and they all like the same stuff. They take turns around the player of their choice to just smoke, drink, and listen to the sounds of the music plays.

Card games. Specifically poker when they're all together. They make things more interesting when they make bets.

And of course motocycle cruising and board walk loitering.

Something that always strikes me with vampires in fiction and indeed with any immortal creature with the high and emotional intelligence of humans. IMMORTALITY IS FUCKING BORING!

I mean, think about it. Imagine you're given all the free time in the world with very little responsibility with no fear of getting sick or tired allowed to do pretty much whatever you want. What would you do? Cause I would go stir crazy. So I came up with these dumb little head canons on how I image the boys specifically would pass the time in their little vampire lives that doesn't revolve around murdering and feeding off of people.

Of course cruising on their bikes come to mind. And there's a couple in the movie we get to see like Dwayne's skateboarding and Marko's fondness for pigeons but I wanted to throw more possibilities out there. :3

#the lost boys #the lost boys 1987 #david tlb #david the lost boys #dwayne tlb #dwayne the lost boys #paul tlb #paul the lost boys #marko tlb #marko the lost boys #tlb headcanons #my headcanons #headcanon #hc #share your thoughts

[tyun4airy]

— STONER!KEEHO WHO...

yoon keeho (p1h) x male!reader

warnings/tags: language, drug usage (marijuana), nsfw themes under the cut, non-idol!keeho, established relationship

i had to write this...have my stoner!keeho thoughts 🤲 if this does good i'll make it for other idols as well

stoner!keeho who confessed to you, his best friend, when he was high as hell deciding if he didn't tell you now then he never would out of anxiety

stoner!keeho who can't keep his hands off you even before you were dating, whether it's holding your hand or a hand on your thigh, he has to be touching you somehow

stoner!keeho who rolls the best blunts but needs a filter cause he hates getting buds in his mouth

stoner!keeho who shotguns the smoke into your mouth, loving the way you look at him with dazed eyes

stoner!keeho who gets 10x more emotional when he's high, he will be watching a movie or show with you and randomly start crying when there's a sad part

stoner!keeho who is soooo clingy when he's high, he will just follow you around like a lost puppy wherever you go, he goes

stoner!keeho who will laugh at everything even if it's not funny, he just thinks everything is hilarious and can't take anything serious when he's high

stoner!keeho who burnt himself trying to use a rig for the first time and pouted while you scolded him for not paying attention to the literal blowtorch in his hands

stoner!keeho who talks so fucking much in the first half an hour he's high only to get dead silent and stare off into space and you have to ask if he's still alive

stoner!keeho who convinced you to eat a cake edible from one of his friends and saying "this doesn't hit" in the first twenty minutes to being high as hell in the next half an hour holding onto you for dear life thinking he was going to die

stoner!keeho who goes to the grocery store or convenience store high as hell and buying everything in his vision of sight cause "everything looked good" he tells you after buying way too much

stoner!keeho who will randomly start singing out of nowhere when he's high for no reason at all, he could be watching something that makes him think of a song or he just randomly starts singing

stoner!keeho who gets whiny when he's getting a blowjob done by you, trying not to fuck your face cause it feels to good

stoner!keeho who is 10x more sensitive when he fucks while high, he's a whimpering mess trying to keep himself together

stoner!keeho who can't keep his hands off of you even in public leading to him fucking you in a bathroom

stoner!keeho who likes being choked when you ride him or top him

stoner!keeho who is a switch no doubt, he will not be against you topping and he's definitely not against being the one topping

stoner!keeho who ate aphrodisiacs mixed with thc and ended up so horny that he literally fucked you for hours on end before passing out on top of you

#kpop x reader #p1h x reader #p1harmony x reader #yoon keeho x reader #keeho x reader #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #p1h scenarios #p1h imagines #kpop x male reader #p1harmony x male reader #p1h x male reader #keeho thoughts ��

[olderthannetfic]

I just got a comment saying I should have tagged for dom/sub undertones and I'm a little confused. In canon, this guy always bosses his wife around re: doing shit that's healthy for her - napping, drinking water, remembering to eat more than once a day, getting more than 3 hours of sleep - and she lovingly calls him "Boss Man" as a nickname because of it. On some occasions where she's gone more than a day without eating he'll swipe her phone and order her to eat before she gets it back, something she always seems to find endearing. There's a lot of 'I didn't mean to worry you', 'you're worth worrying about, now here's your favorite homemade walnut bread' stuff, all there in canon, just lifted from canon and transplanted into my fic.

Is this dom/sub stuff? I'm aroace so I've never been in a relationship, but I assumed "take care of yourself" "I will but I will call you a silly nickname over it" was regular relationship stuff. Or is it that the frequency of it makes it dom/sub stuff, and I'm just not grasping that because my neurodivergency is making me not read the social cues correctly? I was only recently diagnosed but this has been a problem for a long time, the whole line between normal and abnormal behavior, so I thought I'd ask you. You're much more well-read than I am and know a lot more about shipping dynamics and how they're tagged. I feel like you're an expert whose opinion carries a lot of conclusions-informed-by-knowledge and so your take could help me figure this out.

People who are doms or subs or write them, if you have a guide on this stuff, that'd be cool, too. I want to educate myself more so I know if I should tag something. After all, I can't get my story to people who want to read it if it doesn't show up in the tags they're searching for. Readers aren't mindreaders. It's on me to make sure they can get ahold of the things they're looking for. I just need to work around my own ADHD-addled brain to do it.

--

I think this is the usual pattern of demanding silly tags that would only make sense in that reader's own bookmarks.

Yes, caretaking and food control of various kinds can be a part of BDSM. No, your description of canon does not make it sound like this has obvious undertones.

Readers are going to have different interpretations. It's possible that other readers would agree with this one. I have my doubts. I suspect they're projecting. But sure, maybe other people would think there was some of that vibe.

However, if you did not intend the fic to read this way, I would not add the tag. This is not what the fic is about.

--

As for what this kind of thing can look like when it is intended as a dom/sub activity, the movie Secretary has a bunch of examples. She calls him on the phone to tell him what her family's dinner looks like that night; he gives her instructions about which things she can eat how much of. The way she acts while making that phone call makes it clear it's an exciting game to her. Another time, he tells her she's not allowed to cut herself anymore: he will provide what she needs.

Even if the characters are being playful, just nagging someone to do basic self care doesn't really come across as this. It's more charged when it's an intentional power exchange thing.

It's more like... hmm... if you and a friend agreed to LARP as characters for a day. Even if you were acting fairly normal and doing things you'd often do anyway, there would be this added extra vibe to it that someone who knew you well could probably detect.

It's not so much about the specific behaviors: it's about the extra meaning those people ascribe to them. If it doesn't seem like the canon characters think of this caretaking any specific way and you, as the fic author, don't see it that way, then I don't think it will generally read as a dom/sub thing to most readers.

[strawberrysodaslut]

idk if you can do this but can you do a poly!marauders x gn!reader, and the boys’ reactions when yn wears a binder one day.

i'm not trans nor have i ever worn a binder, so i hope this is an accurate portrayal!! feel free to correct me on anything i've messed up.

Getting a binder was a long time coming. After months of research, hesitations and all the time spent waiting, going to the store and getting one, you never thought wearing something to bind would make you feel so damn free. Finally, understanding what people meant when you heard about gender euphoria.

You hadn’t told the boys about your latest purchase. In fact, you hadn’t brought up the concept to them. Not that they hadn’t been supportive of you, they really were. In a world of magic, pronouns were something that hardly needed grasping, and they would correct anyone who messed up politely, sending you a soft smile as they did. But- you couldn’t help but be anxious about them finding out. What if this was too much? What if they get freaked out?

So, you kept your binder to yourself.

At first, you didn’t think they had noticed. You wore looser clothes or sports bras earlier, so it probably wasn’t as big of a difference to others. It wasn’t until dinner that night where you noticed Sirius staring at you from across the table.

“What?” You said, chomping down on a bread roll to hide the way self conciousness ebbed in your chest.

Sirius squinted his eyes, looking like James when he tries to read without his glasses. “You look different.” He says. “Did you do something to your face?”

James laughs from next to you. “Did they do something to their face? What kind of question is that, Padfoot?”

“Well, I don’t know!” Sirius exclaims, “Admit it though Prongs, something about them is different!”

You find it hard to not instinctively crawl under the table to hide. So you curl in on yourself, pressing your chin to your chest to calm the heat across your cheeks. As if he can sense your anxiety, Remus places his hand on your shoulder.

“Guys stop.” He says, light concern lacing his voice, but he’s clearly trying to hide it. “Obviously they’re just relaxed now that the holidays are coming, isn’t that right?” He says to you, giving you a slight smirk and raise of his eyebrows that only happen during his most devious pranks. ‘go with this’, he silently urges you.

You smile, nodding your head. “Yeah, I’m glad classes are almost over.”

“Well,” Sirius starts, “We should have holidays more often then. Haven’t seen you this confident in- I don’t even know.”

“I’ll start the petition!” James pipes.

You smile, glad to be supported by your boys, but still relieved that your secret remains yours.

Little did you know later that night, the boys had a plan to throw a movie night with you in the common room. So at nighttime, when you had changed out of your binder so you wouldn’t sleep in it, James surprised you by barging into your room.

“Oi! It’s movie time- oh sorry.” James said, cutting himself off to cover his eyes as you put on your sweatshirt.

Remus followed him, quickly closing his eyes and turning around when he saw you, “Jeez Prongs! They’re changing!” He scolded.

“I know! That’s why I’m…” He trails off, gesturing to the hand that’s covering his eye- going completely unnoticed to Remus with his eyes shut tight.

You shake your head, a soft giggle escaping from your lips. God, they’re dramatic. “It’s okay guys, don’t stress.” You throw your sweatshirt over your head. “Nothing you haven’t seen before.”

James makes a soft grunt, before removing the hand from his eyes and taking you in. “Well, sorry again.” He says. His eyes slowly drift behind you to something on your bed, and tilts his head. “Hey what’s that?”

You almost jump, turning behind you to see your binder laid out on your bed, ready to be put away. You shudder a deep breath before trying your best to gesture nonchalantly. “It’s uh-” It’s hard not to cringe at how your voice trembles. Okay, nonchalant isn’t working. So you instead opt to be candid. “It’s my binder.”

James looks between you and the binder, his brows furrowed. “Binder…?” He questions before his eyes go wide. He paces towards you in a frenzy. “You’re not binding your magic, are you? Listen, you shoul-”

A giggle almost slips out again as you interrupt him before he explodes, “No Prongs! It’s for my chest. It binds my chest.”

Despite the reassurance that no, you were not binding your magic, James doesn’t look any less confused. If anything, he looked even more. “Why would you want to bind your chest?” He asks, his brows furrowing as he makes his way from you to the binder.

Candid, you remind yourself. You’re being candid. “So it would be flatter.” You say.

A beat passes before James replies, still looking down at the material.

“Oh.” “Oh?” You ask. Your heart thumping in your chest with anticipation.

He makes a small squeak as he turns back to you, “I-I just didn’t realise that was something you worried about.” He says, his voice sympathetic but laced with concern. “It’s not…” He pauses, “Is this where we’re supposed to say something to make you feel better? Because you don’t have to do that for other people you know...”

“No, I get that.” You say, a small smile making its way to your face. “This isn’t for other people, it’s for me. I’m more comfortable with myself when I wear it.” You gesture to the binder, as if it hasn’t been the subject of the past couple of minutes.

With that, James’ whole demeanour changes. The tension in his body disappears as he smiles wide. “Well then, we’re thrilled for you. Aren’t we moony?” He says, nudging Remus who has just been staring at you since the conversation started.

As if he has just awoken from a nap, Remus startles to attention. “Oh- uh yes! I’m supportive of whatever you choose as long as you're happy.” Remus replies, smiling at you before chuckling “Sorry it’s just- I knew that’s what was different.”

“You staring at their chest are you?” James teases Remus. “Perv.”

“No! I-” He exclaims, a red tint painting his face.

You smile at him, about to reassure the boy, when a crashing sound comes from downstairs before a yell echoes through the hallway. Remus mutters a small ‘fuck’s sake’ as the cause of the noise comes bounding towards your room.

“Sorry gentlemen- gender neutral, of course. The popcorn has burned.” Sirius announces before he’s entered the room, reeking of burnt popcorn with a few pieces lodged in his hair. Sharing James’ nosiness, his eyes quickly fixate on your binder. “Hey, what’s that?”

James scoffs before turning to Sirius. “It’s a binder, Padfoot, and they’re very happy.” He says with pride, his chin lifting. “Catch up.”

Remus’ attention, however, has drifted away from the binder and he asks the real important question, “How the hell do you burn magic popcorn?”

Sirius jumps to the defensive, “Hey! I’m the one who told you not to put me in charge of food!” He says, throwing his hands up. “I’m obviously more suited to the pillow gathering region.”

With a dictionary worth of swear words, Remus stomps down the hall to make some unburnt popcorn. James quickly following behind, arguing why him being the pillow gatherer was the best choice.

With Sirius and you alone, he turns to you. “Hey, it’s cool that you have that now. Reg used to use one a while ago.” He says, before grabbing your hand, “Now, let’s watch some movies on a subpar pillow arrangement.”

You laugh as you both go to follow the other two boys. “Sounds good.” You say, feeling more secure with them than ever. Your binder sitting blissfully on your bed, ready to be used again tomorrow.

poly marauders masterlist

#marauders #harry potter #poly!maraduers #marauders x reader #poly!marauders x reader #marauders fluff #marauders x y/n #marauder x you #marauders fanfic #sirius black x reader #james potter x reader #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin fluff #james potter fluff #sirius black fluff

[sleepynegress]

On Challengers...

Okay.

So, here's the thing. It's decent.

It's sassy, catfighty, but with dudes using rackets and tongue-wrestling, and the tennis scenes are tense, but... it wasn't at all confidently scandalous like I would've expected.

....Like I feel like they didn't push it far enough, somehow? And not even in the way you might think, with dicks a-swingin and thrusts abundant. Remember, the movie Closer? -I think that came out in 2007ish and was rated PG-13??? Or could have been if not for the language.

Natalie Portman has a similar nudity clause to her contract and *STILL* had the absolute sexiest scene with Clive Owen.... .....Which I'll put in this post to demonstrate what I mean. This felt like it held back at moments... When it came to pushing desire, between the men and/or with Zendaya, with one or the other. It just felt so tame to me given the hype. I was hoping for a return to artistic sensuality in film again, instead of this weird sort of by-rote-feeling purity culture we're having rn. (I'm watching Love Lies Bleeding tonight and I BET that delivers. Lesbians, salude!) I was hoping for Cruel Intentions' lush cut with The Dreamers' sensuality..if that makes sense?? AND some good-good tennis. THAT did deliver. WOW, some of the shots for that were eye-popping. A critic I follow noted that her issue (she always has the best takes I don't agree with all of them but they are always well-articulated) was that Zendaya was not fleshed out as a central figure, especially as a BLACK WOMAN. It was yet again another case of a Black woman dropped down from the moon coming from no people of her own, but just somehow existing in a sea of white people with not a hint of Black friends or loved ones.

Hell, they could've even laid out *her people* like the brilliantly underrated Beyond The Lights with Minnie Driver playing the stage manager mom to Gugu Mbatha Raw's biracial pop star. But that comes down to the white male gaze fucking it up, yet again. I looked up the screenwriter and just kind of nodded knowingly with an 'oh, yeah that's what I expected, that explains it...' He simply didn't have the range beyond a sort of vague tennis fetish for brown girls in short skirts grunting and swinging and wanting to do something with that. He admitted that Naomi and another Black woman player's interaction on the court *inspired* this...

Perception of Black women doing ANYTHING can be so heavy with a weirdly asexual gaze from white women and hyper-sexualized by white men. And if desire/centering tips in the "wrong" direction deemed by prejudice and our assumed place....*yeesh* we catch hell. You're either bafflingly too ugly to be treated with desire (whew the incel bigots are big mad that it's Zendaya and not a Sweeney-type) or only deemed good enough for it, because of that white gaze. And resented regardless.

*sigh* Can't win for losing. But I digress. Zendaya's co-stars are the oddest looking mystical-dwarf-head ass forest creature white boys with big ears, but they GAVE in the acting department. Mike Faist is a STAR. He has a sort of laidback sweetly confident rizz. But he definitely is the lovechild of a young Scott Glenn and DJ Qualls. I want to put him in a western immediately because he has Civil War photo face.

Mike O'Connor has that desperate dirty hairy scruffy thing like dude from The Bear. Like you KNOW he has a scratch tat somewhere and would do the dirty with his partner in the toilet stalls or anywhere else. Hollyweird is strange about beauty standards man. Back in the day, they used to pretend old white men, who looked like they smelled like Barbasol mixed w/ urine would somehow be sexy to a twentysomething. Now, we have this dichotomy of thankfully a little more of a diverse gaze for the centered "bombshell" other than blonde with large breasts number 32637263872.... but we also have some actresses cutting fat out their cheeks and being Ozempic thin. *sigh* ...While the "basic" hot boys are punching the air rn because they are also passé. Got to have something interesting going on in the face for everyone now, I think. Can't just be AI "pretty" anymore. Thankfully.

....Anyway. It is good, but with those caveats I laid out.

P.S. ICONIC for me is seeing Zendaya's Black-ass nose bridge drawn large on that poster. P.P.S Thank LUCA for doing the queer elements well... I personally don't think it went far enough, tho...

Mike bottoming for all, including getting pegged by Zendaya would've happened in my version of this... at least implied, come on (ficwriters?) Oh! and here are the clips from Closer, but then it was a successful play first, so the script is more substantial in that.

This is how filthy I expected Challengers to be, and it's just. not. Nothing in The Challengers touches the heavy heady nastiness in this scene IMO, but something in that movie should have, dammit! Note they never even touch each other.

#challengers #it is riveting #also that soundtrack!!! #already bookmarked on the spotify #atticus and trent do it again #so happy to see the goth industrial prince trent evolving to this movie score icon place now. #the challengers #josh o'connor #mike faist #zendaya #Youtube

[nsftventurelovebot]

A/N: Can't believe I stayed up all night writing Venture smut again but here we are 🫠 Maybe if Blizz didn't make such an attractive they/them I could be functioning like a normal person. Now my life is ruined and it's all because of VENTURE OVERWATCH

Premise: You ever been teased so bad you had to take matters into your own hands? Because wow they really did that. Fem!Reader heheheheheheh

Warnings: None! Pure smut!

"You look great, by the way."

A lust filled smile widens on your face from their compliment.

You throw your head back into the mattress as Sloan's hands sneak it's way under the fabric of your low cut dress. Soft, heated breaths escape as they begin to grab at your breasts.

"You look even better like this."

Their fingers gently pinch the sensitive flesh of one of your nipples before their head leans down to graze the tip of it with their tongue. You whimper from the growing pleasure before they take more of you into their mouth. A few more swirls of their tongue and a delicate bite has the heat growing between your legs.

They pull away, leaving a saliva trail connecting the two of you. "You're so sensitive. I love it." They can't help but admire your flushed figure.

You pout... you didn't want them to stop now.

"Keep going!" You beg, but they chuckle and stand up instead.

"Not yet. We can't have you finishing before our date even begins. Where's the fun in that?"

"I can come multiple times!" You argue, extending your legs towards their waist.

"I know you can! Who do you think lets you?"

You bite your tongue and swallow your brattiness before it gets you in trouble.

Without further distraction Sloan grabs something out of your view before pulling down the fabric of your panties to expose your wet heat. Your hips lift up for their touch and for a moment they play along and use a finger to gently stroke your delicate pulsing core. This earns them a blissful whine and they twirl their finger a few more times before stopping.

"No! Please..." You genuinely feel a sadness wash over you as you're left repeatedly disappointed.

"Needy tonight, aren't we?" They tease.

"You love it when I'm needy. So why won't you give me what I want?" You frown.

"Believe me mi muñeca, I would love to, but we both agreed on this."

They have a stronger will than you thought.

"Now be good for me."

You can hear a soft buzzing sound come to life as they reach down to place a small vibrator between your folds. Immediately your nerves ignite as they press down the cool silicone toy down against your heat to tease you. A loud moan leaves your mouth as your hips arch upwards once again, and they adjust your panties to help keep it in place.

"Now. We don't want to be late for the movie, right?" They offer you a hand to help you stand up.

You weakly reach out to take it and they help you to your feet. Almost instantly you collapse into them as a vermillion blush paints your face. They catch you effortlessly and place an arm around your waist to hold you steadily in place.

"Sorry! Let me turn down the intensity–"

You clasp at their back with your nails. "Wait– not yet–" You whisper to them between heavy breaths.

"We just talked about this!" They started to genuinely feel bad from your begging.

You feel the vibrating between your legs decrease and once more you whimper as your climax is devastatingly taken from you all too soon. It takes you a moment to center yourself before you can stand on your own two feet again.

...

Sloan's arm is wrapped firmly around your waist to keep you from collapsing again. Out of embarrassment you can't look anyone in the eye, so you keep your gaze downwards to avoid looking anyone in the face. The only thing that keeps your full attention is the droplets of soda on the bottom of the flimsy lid on the movie theatre drink you carry– that, and the soft buzzing pressed firmly against the most sensitive part of you.

At least your beloved was kind enough to carry the popcorn and your bag.

The theatre itself is already pitch black and for that you were thankful. You knew the blush on your face would draw views from all over if you even dare look up for a minute– even in a mostly darkened cinema your near wine red blush would be all too visible. It takes all of your strength to weave in and out through the empty rows of chairs before you set your drink in the sticky cup holder of your chair.

Now all you have to do is sit down. Right. Sit down...

"We're in the back, right?" You peak over at Sloan with concern.

"Please! I'm not that mean. We're also all the way in the corner and there's like five other people here."

They've already sat down. They're waiting on you.

You don't even have to look at them to know they're doing their dumb ass grin.

"Are your shoes really that interesting?" They tease.

You flash the angriest face you can make at them. They choke on their soda with laughter.

"Real funny." You scowl.

There's no reason to prolong your suffering and you finally sit down. The soft buzzing is forced closer to your core and you let out the quietest sigh you could make.

"You can sit back, you know."

You didn't even realize you're almost completely hunched forward. When you adjust your posture it's nearly pin straight. You just know they're getting a kick out of this. Sweat begins to bead on your forehead as you slouch your shoulders in an attempt to look somewhat normal.

"Popcorn?" They offer you the bucket.

"No comment."

"More for me!"

Of course.

They place a hand a little too high on your leg and squeeze your skin as a way of silently saying they're proud of you. You close your eyes and lean against their shoulder for extra support.

You're already pretty sick and tired of this even though the movie had just started– and it started out well enough. There's a couple on screen talking about taking a vacation to some ominous place they're not supposed to go because... it's a horror movie. You're not supposed to go anywhere in a horror movie. Everyone knows that– except the main characters, otherwise this movie wouldn't have been made. Then you wouldn't even be on this date in the first place, and you would've finished three times and snuggled to sleep with your beloved by now. That sure sounds nice.

Yeah... have your thoughts always been this jumbled?

The lighting turns a dark pinkish red. You can hear the obviously fake moans coming from the female lead. Of course they were already having sex– how else are they going to earn back all their money they spent on filming?

Since your eyes were closed you couldn't see Sloan pulling out their phone.

The vibrator between your legs goes from a pleasant buzzing to pure climax worthy stimulation. The unexpected change in pace causes you to squeeze your legs shut but it only makes your situation even more difficult. Your legs are now softly shaking from the unforgiving sensation pressed against your throbbing core, and if you could bite your lip any harder then surely it would be bleeding.

You desperately clutch the fabric of your dress in one hand and Sloan happily holds on to your other one. They rub the back of your knuckles with their thumb in a comforting way, and it's the only thing keeping you grounded right now.

The sounds of fake love making does not relent. How long is this scene, anyway?

"You trying to take a nap?" Your beloved whispers to you in that same teasing voice.

Your eyes barely open and you're met with an exceptionally lewd presentation on screen. It's incredibly cheesy but that doesn't stop the heat from rushing through your entire body.

"Good girl." They lovingly encourage you to keep taking everything as long as you possibly could.

The sound of their praise causes you to smile in pleasure.

"I'm coming!" The female lead shouts.

God, you wish you were, too.

Then it's over– and so is the unwavering onslaught of extreme delight. You can feel yourself relax as the toy is reduced to a delicate buzzing once again. Your head hits the back of the chair in a wave of relief and it causes your beloved to stifle an oncoming laugh.

"It's not funny!" You pout, keeping your voice as low as possible.

"It kind of is..." They reply. "Only a little bit, though..."

At least they're honest– but fine. If it was a game they wanted to play, then you'd happily be their player two.

In an attempt to feign being uncomfortable you adjust the top of your low cut dress and pull it down to where almost everything was visible. Your free hand rests inside the fabric atop the flushed and warm skin of your breasts. It catches their attention immediately.

While you knew you would have no where near the control they have over you, making them blush was a good start. You move your hand from out of your dress and make a peace sign over your now open mouth. Then, you let the built up saliva in your mouth drip off of your tongue for extra effect.

"Is that a threat?" They ask. You can hear the interest building in their voice.

"No." You smirk. "It's a promise."

You bring the hand they're holding up to your face and they instantly move to cup it, then you open your mouth to envelope their thumb. Your tongue gently swirls around their finger and you suckle softly before they remove it and smear your spit across your lips.

"Hm. I think I can almost taste myself."

"Alright! I get it..." You can hear them getting flustered from your extra attention.

"No, Sloan Cameron. I don't think you do."

Their squirming is absolutely delicious to you.

You take their hand from your face and slowly guide it down your neck, then your chest, before it grabs one of your breasts and a soft moan leaves your throat.

"Bet you wish that was in your mouth right now, huh? I'm sure it would keep it shut for once." A devilish grin creeps onto your face.

"That's not funny!"

But they were grinning... you also couldn't help but laugh knowing they're the one who's saying it now.

"Oh, but it is! Only a little bit, though..." You scan the crowd for a millisecond to make sure no one can see what you're about to do.

You're alone. Except for the couple on the opposite side of the theatre doing the exact same thing.

Perfect.

With zero hesitance you throw yourself on to their lap and wrap your arms around their neck. Then, you clasp their chin and tilt it upwards so they're looking directly at you. You begin placing feverish kisses anywhere you could reach before placing the last one directly to their lips. The only reason you pull away is to pull your arms out of the sleeves of your low cut dress and expose the entirety of your chest to them.

They open their mouth to say something but you cut them off with an open mouth kiss, and you can feel a hand sneak around to hold by the small of your back. This continues between the two of you for several moments until you feel the soft buzzing between your legs turn up to its highest setting once again, causing you to pull away and look down on them with lust filled eyes.

"That's funny. You have to let a toy do your job for you." You tease, your words dripping with desire.

Apparently that struck a nerve, because the sensation instantly stopped.

"Like hell I will–!"

Their phone becomes discarded on the seat next to them, and their now free hand instantly dives between your legs to replace the toy with their fingers. Your slick surrounds the dryness of their skin and you feel them make tight circles against your pulsating heat in a hurried attempt to send you over the edge.

Finally. Fucking finally!

You desperately grasp at their shirt as you start placing harsh kisses to their lips once more. With every stroke of your sensitive nerves you can feel yourself teetering on the edge of climaxing. Your senses hone in on pure, unbridled ecstasy– you're close.

You've been close for nearly two hours.

No. More.

Your back arches, your lips disconnect from theirs as throw your head back, your eyes are rolling back into your skull. You are so, so close.

"Please–" You beg. All confidence and sass has left your bliss ridden body.

No more edging.

No more waiting.

Then, stars.

You gently place your forehead against theirs. Tears are streaming down your sweaty, ruby colored face. You had never came so hard in your entire life.

"Oh– fuck–"

There are no words in any language on planet earth that could describe the relief you felt after that. You take deep breaths as you slowly come back to reality.

The credits roll.

You can feel Sloan start helping you fix your dress before you sit back down in your chair.

"Cool movie!" You glance over at your beloved.

Their eyes are wide and they're sunken into their seat– but the grin is there.

"Yeah. Yeah–" They sound like a broken record.

"Get it bro!" You can hear a masculine voice call from the other side of the theatre.

You smile at a job well done.

...

You lock arms as you leave but the ceiling lights nearly blind you, and you glance over at your beloved to spare your vision before your hand clamps over your mouth.

Your lipstick is plastered across their entire face... but they wear it with pride. You can only imagine how your own face must look.

"Hope you enjoyed the mo–" The worker taking tickets is speechless for a moment. "–movie!" They caught themself at the very last moment.

"We did! Thanks!" Sloan replies to them before the two of you make your way back to the car.

"I'm never washing this off by the way." They grin. "Oh! And you should definitely top more often. That was hot!"

Noted.

"Or, I guess I could edge you for two whole hours again." They joke.

You glance at them with the least amused face known to man.

They continue to grin.

"Maybe you should try it to see how it feels." You suggest.

"Only if you agree to top me again."

You genuinely think about it for a moment. Perhaps revenge would be easier than you thought.

"Alright."

"REALLY?!" They sound a little too enthusiastic.

"Just for you."

You can almost feel the devil on your shoulder laughing in delight.

#devil mercy laugh emote #yes there will be a sequel to this lmao #overwatch x you #overwatch x reader #venture overwatch #venture ow2 #venture x reader #venture x you #sloan cameron #sloane cameron

[castawavy]

November Save MEGA summary (part 8)

before / next

here it is... the penultimate chapter of november save, its been a long journey guys and im glad you all joined me on it. this was definetly my fave family and one that was really important to me because I made steve and june during a time in my life where things were very uncertain & I was going through a lot of changes, so they were pretty much my one contsant for awhile, anyways here are the photos!

so steve and june are still on their little fitness journey together, its a thing that steve has always been into but june wanted to join him cuz she got super into yoga

then as usual they couldnt keep it in their pants

june also got promoted to judge finally, she basically switched career branches after she left Landgraab Industries, but I didnt have any pics of her leaving... but now she works at the local court, and doesnt have to commute to the city anymore which she prefers

then it was Winterfest 🎁 and I decked the halls

lucky elijah got gifted a telescope but I don't remember what we got adelaide

adelaide spent new years with her childhood friend peter (luke's step son) in san myshuno I think she graduated from highschool by now but again, ive lost the photos from her prom... idk what happened to those

the bheeda girls were there too of course, theyre kind of like cousins to adie since shes very close with them even though theyre not even related AHAHAHA

she also met a mysterious stranger named jolene who she later kissed at a house party, she kind of stopped seeing landon because the two of them would always fight, and I think she just had enough

steve and moose cuteness

and a makeover for elijah in prepartion for his YA life stage (he sometimes wears contact lenses now)

THEN a major event in steve's life, but he spoke with june and she persuaded him to finally reconnect with his younger sister, Claire, who he has kind of been no contact with since he was a teenager (mostly because he cut off contact with his parents)

later in spring, the weather started to get nice, so steve and june threw a BBQ / get together with all their friends in the yard

sita and elijah also reconnected as they hadnt really seen eachother since they were toddlers and sita quite liked him :eyes:

then when everyone was gone, steve & june enjoyed some quality time together in the new pool...

meanwhile elijah and sita got cozy and 'watched' a movie teehee

ALSO big news from Raj FINALLY he couldnt make it to the BBQ cuz he and julia just had TWINS

adelaide also worked her final shift at the country club and she and her coworkers played some foosball behind their manager's back

before / next

#ts4 #ts4 gameplay #sims 4 #sims 4 gameplay #november save #nsgen1

[xkaidaxxxx]

Fake love.

Hawks x reader

mentions: Angst, Pregnancy, Baby girl.

1.3k words

“ Keigo you don’t love me.” you said. “ I do love you more than anything,” he replied. “No you don’t…I see the way you look at Macy.” you replied. In this situation you are correct. Macy is one of his sidekicks. She’s so beautiful. She looks like she came out of a princess movie. Her hair flows amazingly. Her laughter is contagious and when she smiles she makes someone else’s day better. She has her own faults. Everyone does but she’s such a wonderful match for Hawks. When he comes home from work he somehow manages to bring her up in a conversation and praise her, even during important events where heroes and their loved ones are invited. There was a specific night that embarrassed you and made you cry like there was no tomorrow. “ Hey Hawks, it's been awhile. This must be your wife?” Macy questions smiling at you. “ No she’s my girlfriend.” he corrected her. “ Hi I’m Y/n. It’s very nice to meet you, Hawks mentions you all the time.” You said and the paparazzi showed up at just the right time to hear what you said. Cameras start flashing, voice records out, and notepads. 

“ Hawks, are you dating Macy?”

“ How long has your relationship been going?” 

“ Is there a proposal coming up?” 

“ Do you work with her because you two are dating” 

“ Give us some updates Hawks.”

“ Macy, do you love him?” 

“ Macy, what type of dates have you gone on with him?” 

And many more questions. 

He didn’t even deny it. Not even Macy. She smiled and walked inside in a hurry. You were pushed to the back by the paparazzi. 

“ You all are not allowed out here. Please leave. I don’t want to call the police here and have you all arrested.” he said. 

“You are in love with her!” 

“ You want her out of harm's way!” 

“ Hawks, are you planning to retire to marry her and have children?” 

He walked inside slamming the door forgetting you. 

You cried hailing a taxi to go home. When you walked inside you slammed the door shut and locked it. “ How did he forget about me? Why didn’t he say he’s with someone else..with me? Why have we been dating for 3 ½  years and he hasn’t asked me to marry me? Am I not giving him what he needs? Am I not good enough?” you asked those heartbreaking questions. “ I am good for him. I give him all my love and support. I love him. I cook and clean and always make sure he’s healing well when he has injuries. I wake up in the middle of the night to make sure he isn’t bleeding when he has cuts. I give him all I have to offer and that’s not enough. He doesn’t appreciate me. He doesn’t love me.” you said. That night and almost all the time your bed felt cold regardless if he was there. You knew that the relationship was loveless so why did you stay?

A week later you were tangled in between the sheets with him feeling happy. Happy because he showed you a bit of love. He was being so gentle and kind. He did start paying attention to you but to him it was almost a job. A task that reminds himself to do. It’s not a natural thing like in any relationship. You picked up on it and it made you feel like a burden. Gave you mixed feelings.

Happy he’s putting in effort and hurting because it’s almost a job instead of being a good boyfriend .

“ I’ll be home early today sweetheart.” Keigo said ruffling his wings. You think it’s cute when he does that “ Okay my love. See you soon.” You replied holding his hand to help you balance has you tip toed to peck his cheek. “ nice energy boost sweetheart.” He said flying away. You closed the door.

You guys are playing house at this point.

2 players

You’re the sad housewife

He’s the breadwinner

You prepared dinner and served it, waiting at the table reading the message that he’s close on by.

5 minutes turn to 15 minutes.

15 minutes to 36 minutes.

The food is obviously gone cold.

Eventually it hit 2am, he showed up drunk. You opened the door and saw his hero friends holding him up.

“ Do you need help taking him upstairs?” Best Jeanist asked. “ No sir. Thank you all for bringing him home.” You replied taking him and closing the door.

“Keigo get up. Now!” You ordered. He stood up leaning against the countertop. “I’m s’hungry. Dinner?” He said seeing the cold food.

You didn’t even bother to talk to him. You simply went upstairs to sleep.

This happened a least 5 times. When he was brought home..each time the guys would ask if you needed help. If you were okay. After all, heroes save people. Each time you said you’re good.

He did suddenly change. He did give you more attention. He’s doing it as a routine. Not out of love but out of pity. Out of guilt .

————————————————————————

Things he’d say to himself:

-Okay remember ask her about her day.

-watch her as she gets ready for bed and give her a kiss here and there

-don’t forget it’s date night

-Make sure to buy gifts

-never cause something to upset her

————————————————————————

4 months went on by.

“ You’re joking. False positive. It’s a false positive.” You said and decided to take another test. Minutes went on by. “ Definitely Positive.” You spoke trying to calm yourself down. You threw away the pregnancy tests. “ I’m pregnant. I need to set up and appointment.” You said. You were thinking about abortion but you’re creating a baby. A life. That’s something you shouldn’t take away. You decided to keep it.

You were 1 1/2 months along. You were getting signs a week ago. Now you’re showing a bit of a bump.

You’re so nervous and excited to have a baby. You thought Keigo will be overjoyed. You were working on a way to tell him about it.

Tshirt?

Straight up test in his face?

You chose to sit him down, saying you have a gift and hand him a pregnancy test.

The day finally came an you were glowing! You changed into something cute and did you make up. You wore the jewelry he had recently bought you. “Sit down very quickly. I have news for you!” You said jumping up and down. “Hey I’ll be away for about a year on hero work. The United States is waiting for me. I leave in 3 hours..endeavor is waiting for me outside..I’ll keep you updated. Tell me about your news later or I’ll be late.”he said leaving a peck on your cheek. “ Don’t promise that you’re going to write or call…you’ll be busy and I’ll only be worried if you don’t respond soon.I love you so much Keigo” you said. “ I’m still going to call. I love you princess. I’ll try and get home early.”he said leaving. As soon as you were about to tell him you're 2 months pregnant this man is saying his goodbyes and leaving“ God, Keigo, just please remember we had it all. I gave you absolutely everything I had to offer you.”You said. “Time for a fresh start.” with that you went on about your day. It took about 2 months to find a new place to live. You now live about 2 hours away from the countryside of Japan. It was peaceful. The neighborhood held a welcome party for you. When you went to your monthly check ups the woman would feel bad for you. You had no husband, not even a boyfriend that could accompany you. “ It’s a girl!” the gynecologist said happily. You looked at the screen with tears slipping. “ She’s going to be such a cutie pie.” you said giggling. When you hit 7 months It was even harder. You struggled washing your clothes, picking up things from the floor, you couldn’t put on shoes, so you wore slippers all the time. You’d have sleepless nights when your baby girl kicked and moved around a lot and when you craved something, you’d have to drive yourself to the store. 

Miu decided to come two weeks early. If Keigo stayed by your side during your pregnancy you wouldn’t have struggled much. He’d be taking you to the hospital, not the ambulance. Miu’s dada wasn’t there to see her be born. Wasn’t there to hold your hand, wipe your tears and sweat away as you pushed. It was only the nurses and the doctor. After the birth of your daughter you still gave her , her fathers last name. 

The worst part of all of it is that you’re young. 19 having a child with a 23 year old man. Not a huge age gap,but you are barely starting your life. Soon after your daughter turned 4, you moved back to get her a better education and you a better job. $9,500 yen an hour isn’t bad for a beautiful home and to raise Miu. Everything is good for you and little Miu. You both had each other and that’s all that mattered.

————————————————————————

Continuation will be posted soon

Another hero will be involved ! Read carefully there’s a little clue !

<3

#mha keigo takami #mha keigo x reader #mha hawks #mha #my hero acedamia #my hero academia #anime #fanfiction #fanfic #keigo takami #keigo x reader #mha takami keigo #takami keigo #mha x y/n #mha x reader #mha x you #mha shoto

[lostcryptids]

Overall (not many people that even follow me watch or read the series but) I feel like the netflix city hunter movie was like, ok, it was fun, i think the casting was overall solid. They changed a LOT from the source material, from actual big plot points, to when characters meet, character traits, which is a little jarring. So it's pretty different from what most people familiar with the series know. I wish they had followed the first few chapters better. Because even the anime doesn't fully follow the manga continuity and censors some of the storyline that deals more heavily with the use for drugs. Like idk I guess since I was reading about the one piece netflix thing being faithful I kind of expected that, but they kinda wanted to make a new story..? Despite it being kinda cliche. Which isn't a bad thing, a lot of the actual series is very cliche, it just doesn't follow the cliches I know. You know.

I do wish they kept it in the 80s..though it would be nearly impossible I imagine to film city scenes and make it believably 80s. It does have a very "netflix" feeling to it. Like I wish it was a bit more gritty. Or sleazy. Felt a little too clean. Pretty big lack of sexual jokes and moments, though they did include some. The writers on the movie set some actual rules in writing Ryo's character to make him more palatable to modern audiences BUT...I do think they could have added some less offensive parts of his character into it. Like you don't really have to include groping but there are other things they cut that I think take away from his character. But I feel kinda confident that if they make another movie they might have more gags. Because it could have used more comedy overall. The comedy is my favorite part of CH overall like i LIKE the pervert humor and a lot of the other fans do so I see why they were upset I mean honestly they should use the same gags from the 80s because the whole point of the humor is that he's in the wrong and getting punished for it, by cutting out his bad behavior you cut out a huge part of his character + the gags surrounding it. Well overall I think it's fun and I'm just glad they made a city hunter movie in 2024, the lead actor is really really fun and enjoyable and carries the whole movie pretty much, I hope they're able to make a sequel (honestly I'd like a show more than anything lol) so that he can play Ryo again because he's really perfect. Also I want to see him naked again

[simplydannie]

Hi, I have a few of "What if" list in Under Rageous: The Runaways, sorry if this might bit too long:

What if Velvet caught Cressida earlier trying to touch Veneer? The situation might get worse like these two might get into fight and I don't know who will win 😥?

What if the twins didn't manage to escape from her? All I can think of is in present day, Veneer's situation would be more like Beverly Marsh from 2017 movie IT, until he accidentally killed her as self-defense.

Not really a "What if" but, imagine, Velvet keeps really blame herself and cry for not saving her brother from Cressida's assault, even though he keeps saying "Don't blame yourself. It's not your fault, it's never be your fault"

Hehe, thanks 😁

You brought soooo many great ideas! Okay let me see if I can answer them in a really short story type of format. Here we go! I’ll separate them by bulletin points. Also, TRIGGER WARNING ‼️:

Red Handed:

Velvet grew concerned. It was silent… too silent. Something wasn’t right. Velvet throw the blankets off of her and quietly began to make it down to her brothers room. Walking by Cressida room, she noticed her door was open… she wasn’t there.

“No…no, no, no.” Velvet repeated to herself. Her pace quickened, she now bolted to her brother’s room. The door was closed…but it wasn’t locked. Velvet pushed open the door with such force….

…..Her heart sank. She saw her brother lying on the bed, her aunt hovering over him, attempting to slide her hands down his shorts. Veneer had tears in his eyes, attempting to hold her hand away from touching him any further.

“WITCH!” Velvet ran and jumped on Cressida. Velvet began hitting her, beating her. Cressida was twice her size, but Velvets furry and anger made her twice as strong. She put her aunt in a chokehold.

“HOW DARE YOU!” Velvet tightened her grip around her neck, she began cutting her air. “DONT YOU EVER TOUCH IM AGAIN!” Tighter and tighter she gripped.

“Velvet!” Veneer called out attempting to stop her. But she then turned around into beating Cressida l. She landed blow after blow on her face.

“VELVET!” Veneer grabbed her fist before she could his their aunt again.

“She touched you Ven!”

“I’m okay now. I’m okay.” Veneer hugged her tightly. He knew she was just trying to protect her, but killed their aunt would put her into trouble. He looked down at Cressida… blood was all over her face…but she was alive, barely. Velvet grasped his hand, she turned and spat at their aunt as she lay unconscious on the floor.

“HAG!” She cried as she pulled Veneer and bolted out the front door.

No More

The only happiness Veneer knew, was either being outside from home, or when Velvet was there. When his sister was around, Cressida wouldn’t dare touch him…. Velvet didn’t know, he didn’t dare tell her.

He was twelve when it first happened, now he was seventeen. Five years…. Five years of pain and disgust. It didn’t help that as became more attractive as he grew. It began with just touching, but by fifteen, his innocence was taken away… it only got more frequent after that.

He cringed at physical touch now. Velvet would reach to take something off his shirt, he’d flinch. She’d arch an eyebrow, but he wouldn’t say much. Veneer knew the furry that was inside his sister. He knew that she was capable of killing Cressida when she’d find out.

Many times it would happen in the middle of the night. Velvet would be sound asleep. When Cressida was in the mood she’d sneak over to his room… and lock it, then having her way with him. He’d close his eyes until everything was over, feeling disgusting at the end.

One day, Velvet was out far longer than normal. He began to panic as his aunt came home early. He locked himself in his room, hoping he’d be safe, hoping she’d forget.

KNOCK. KNOCK.

Veneer hugged his knees tighter.

“Come on sweetheart. Open the door.” He heard his aunts voice boom from the other side.

“No.” He said firmly.

“Open…. The door. Now.” Her voice was firmer as she began to jiggle the handle.

“No!” He covered his ears. The door shook harder and harder until she was able to bolt it open. Fear shot in his eyes as she made her way towards him.

“You don’t EVER so no to me!” She yelled pushing him on his back. He struggled to get her off of him. Even after what she had done to him, he still didn’t want to hurt her… but she was making it harder. He wanted to leave this behind, grab his sister, and leave.

“Please just stop! I don’t want this anymore!” He begged.

“Stop being ridiculous.” She went to move down his pants.

“Stop!” He pushed her off and stumbled to his feet…. He was growing desperate. She tried pulling back by his feet. Cressida slapped him across the face, but this time Veneer didn’t submit, he was done….. no more, he wanted no more.

“Please! Stop!” He begged again. But she kept pursuing, ripping his shirt in attempt to pull him back. She kept striking him and hitting him…. Desperation was peaking, he reach for something, anything.

“STOP!” He turned, stabbing his aunt with a pair of scissors he was able to grab. She grunted in pain, a look of surprise across her face. It took her a moment, until she finally went limp and fell to the floor….her breathing stopped.

“…. Oh my god….” He covered his mouth with his hands. “…. Oh my god…. Oh my god….” Tears began to fill his eyes. What did he do? What would Velvet think of him?… he was a monster….. he was a killer. He shrunk down and hugged his knees…. He was a murder.”

I’m Sorry

Velvet sat at her vanity, staring at herself…it was an hour before the concert. She promptly did her make as victory rang across her mind… they did it…. They made it to the top. Them, some loser teens from no where. A triumphant smile spread across her lips.

“Who’s a nobody now.” She murmured as she gazed upon herself in the mirror. All those who told them that were now beneath her, like ants, she squashed them. The loosers at school, the punks down in the under city, their aunt….her mind faded into darkness.

Aunt Cressida. That hag. The one who…. Velvet went silent as those thoughts filled her mind…. The one who took advantage of her brother. All that time, and Velvet didn’t know. All that time Veneer quietly suffered in pain.

“….. it was my fault…” she glumly told herself. If she had noticed it sooner, the sooner the would’ve been safe.

“Vels! Are you almost done? It’s almost show….” Veneers words were cut short as he walked into her dressing room. Velvet was bent over her vanity in tears. “Vels?” He quickly ran to her side.

“Leave me alone Veneer!” She demanded as she felt his hand on her shoulder, avoiding his gaze.

“No. What’s wrong? What’s going on?” She was fine just a moment ago.

She wipes the tears from her eyes, “I said go away!” She couldn’t look at him.’she couldn’t imagine the filth their aunt did to him those nights.

Veneer attempted to meet her gaze, “Tell me!” He demanded.

She never met his eyes. “It’s my fault…”

“What?”

“What that hag did to you….its my fault.”

Veneer cocked his head to the side, “…Velvet…that was… that was awhile ago… why are you…”

“BECAUSE ITS MY FAULT VENEER! If I… If I would’ve known, acted sooner… and she’s still running free!” Velvet buried her face in her hands against as she felt the tears begin to form. There was no seat for him to sit, so he knelt down in front of her.

“How many times do I have to say it… no it isn’t. None of what happened is your fault, Vels. You were already trying to protect us…”

“But I didn’t Veneer! I let her do what she did to you! You suffered for so long!….. I’m sorry.” Her shouldered began to shudder as she began to cry. He knew there would be nothing he could say that would change her mind…Velvet was stubborn like that. Instead he embraced her, holding her close, making sure she felt he was okay.

“It will never be your fault, Vels…”

#trolls band together #dreamworks trolls #trolls 3 #velvet and veneer #trolls veneer #veneer #velvet trolls #velvet #fandom #velvet and veneer trolls #dw trolls #trolls #trolls 3 veneer #trolls 3 velvet #veneer trolls #trolls velvet #trolls fanfic #trolls 3 band together #fanfic writing #fanfic #fanfics #fanfiction #oneshot #answered asks

[cha-melodius]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

Thanks to @ninzied for the tag!

How many works do you have on ao3?

120!

What's your total ao3 word count?

1,371,932

What fandoms do you write for?

RWRB, TMFU, Lokius

Top five fics by kudos:

Please Don't Let Me Be So Understood

Nova, Baby

Class(room) Warfare

All the Old Showstoppers

Always Where I Need To Be

Do you respond to comments?

I try. I used to be very good at responding but my backlog has gotten extreme (1491 unanswered comments as of right now, if you're curious) so at this point I pretty much only answer if it's a chapter in an ongoing multichap, or someone asks a question.

What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

I have a caradin fic that's straight up a break-up fic with no resolution, but I still feel like my angstiest is probably Black Moon (napollya), because they're in love but the situation is so fucking bleak. Sorry guys.

What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Any of them that end with a proposal lol? I've got a lot of fluffy fics and all of my long fics end with pure fluff, so I don't think I could pick out one.

Do you get hate on fics?

I have been lucky not to really get any, at least lately. I've gotten... less than polite comments, of course, but no outright hate (knock on wood).

Do you write smut?

Yes, although I would not say it's an integral part of my writing tbh.

Craziest crossover:

Craziest might be Maybe, This Time, which is a Mandalorian/BSG crossover that involves dimension-hopping lol.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes! I've had a few of my TMFU works translated and now there's someone in the RWRB fandom that translates most (!!) of my fics into Mandarin, which is mind blowing and flattering and I'm so grateful because I've gotten comments from people who have read them translated and loved them.

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Not yet!

All time favorite ship?

I don't think I can pick one; some of my past ships are just that—past—but there are a few I will carry in my heart forever.

What's a wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

If I want to finish it, I will, even if it takes a long time. I might stop wanting to finish a wip, but that's not the question is it?

What are your writing strengths?

Banter/dialogue, action, pacing, plots. People have told me that they can picture my scenes like a movie because of the description and that makes me feel good.

What are your writing weaknesses?

Although I have my moments, I don't really tend to think of my writing as beautiful. I'm just not that poetic/lyrical.

Thoughts on dialogue in another language?

Sure! If it's in my own fic I usually have a native speaker look over it (I haven't done this lately but I have gotten Russian consults for TMFU fics).

First fandom you wrote in?

Xena: Warrior Princess, back when that show was airing. Fanfic primarily distributed over internet mailing lists and posted on your own website.

Favorite fic you've written?

Stealing Nina's idea and doing one in each of my main fandoms I've written in because it's hard to pick (even then this was rough).

Nova, Baby Series—Spy AU, Firstprince

Love is a Losing Game—Chess AU, Napollya (SHOCKER I KNOW)

What Makes a Good Man Series—Spy AU, Lokius

Here It Goes Again—The Mandalorian (Caradin but mostly Din character study in a time loop)

I'm not sure who's been tagged and who hasn't or even everyone who has done this, but a few tags below the cut. If you'd like to do it, jump in!

@kiwiana-writes, @rmd-writes, @three-drink-amy, @cricketnationrise, @14carrotghoul

@leaves-of-laurelin, @tintagel-or-cockleshells, @inexplicablymine, @firenati0n, @liminalmemories21

@orchidscript, @sparklepocalypse, @loki-is-my-kink-awakening, @mirilyawrites, @heytheredeann

@nicijones, @justabigoldnerd, @myheartalivewrites

#about my writing #about my fics