#And if I get hot and sweaty while I'm sleeping I have super fucked up nightmares

[solradguy]

About a year before I got into GG, a phlebotomist said that I have "dark blood" (???) and since then my one friend group and I have joked about my cursed evil beast blood. It's been three years. Happy three years anniversary to my sinister dark blood

#textpost #I don't know why she said that and no phlebotomist has said anything like it since #Probably it was just the lighting in the room or something #(my red blood cell count & other results were fine) #It was funny though. Funny enough that we're still joking about it three years later #GG just made it funnier tbh. And now there's Granblue. I can't escape this wicked hex upon mine mortal essence #It's easy to joke about because my biology is just kind of weird in general #Like Wellbutrin turned me into a steam engine so if I don't drink water regularly I get soooooo hot and sweaty #And if I get hot and sweaty while I'm sleeping I have super fucked up nightmares #But it's ok. It's just my evil beast blood curse #And the night vision

[wilbursprincess]

Making out with Simpbur and mutually being super whiny and handsy. Bonus points if reader is lowkey kinda obsessed with him- Like she's been waiting for this moment for a concerning amount of time... I dunno; I just like the idea of Simpbur in specific being SUPER loud in bed.

-🦋

(I'm so sorry for blowing up your inbox- I just love your writing)

“You’re So Cute When You’re All Whiny”

Simpbur x Female Reader

Warnings: So much making out lol, reader gives Simpbur a handjob while grinding on his leg, both reader and Simpbur being so whiny and needy for each other <3

Don’t worry about blowing up my inbox, dear 🦋 anon! Any chance to write about Simpbur is a goddamn GIFT!

Fic below cut!

I’d been dreaming about this for months.

I’d had a crush on the cute boy in my lecture hall since the first day of class, when he walked in, slightly late, and asked if the seat next to me was taken. We had slowly gotten closer, and eventually, he asked me to lunch at the campus cafe. One thing lead to another, and he was finally here. In my bed, shirtless in grey sweatpants, kissing me everywhere he could reach.

“I can’t get enough of you in those sweatpants,” I murmur against his smiling lips, one leg hitched over his hips. “God, you’re adorable.”

“You’re so hot,” he groans in reply, tugging my shirt off over my head so I’m left in a bra and leggings, slipping a finger into the waistband of the tight black fabric. “Can I take these off?”

“Please.”

One of my hands is tangled in his curls, the other teasing him through the fabric of his sweats. He’s panting like a dog from the slightest touch, having this whiny, needy boy in my bed is otherworldly.

Wilbur finally gets my leggings off, slipping his knee between my thighs and slowly rubbing it against the crotch of my panties. This leaves his hands free to paw at my chest, groaning as I dig my nails into his back from the waves of pleasure radiating from my core.

“I love those pretty little noises you’re making,” I sigh, starting to pull his sweatpants down. “Can I?”

“Fuck yes,” he replies, crying out as I wrap my hand around him and slowly start to move it up and down. Every single movement I make makes Wilbur whine or groan, and he can’t stop himself from thrusting into my hand. He’s so loud, so vocal, so whiny, every sound music to my ears.

He’s completely given up on any kind of mutual pleasure in just a few strokes from my hand, but I don’t mind. Every groan, moan, or whine makes me drip, and I start rubbing myself on his knee in time with my hand on his cock.

“So… so good,” Wilbur groans, pressing his face into my neck and letting out a long, low moan. “You’re gonna make me… cum… in my pants.”

“I’d… hope so,” I manage, sinking my teeth into his shoulder.

I’ve never been with anyone this vocal or handsy with me, someone so unafraid to let me know just how good I’m making them feel. And it was so. goddamn. hot.

Just as I shudder and soak the fabric of his sweats, Wilbur practically screams and releases sticky white all over my hand and the inside of his boxers, whining and shaking as I stroke him through his high before collapsing on top of me.

“Oh my God,” he gasps, sweaty skin pressed against mine. “That was…”

“…amazing,” I echo, kissing his forehead and sighing. “You’re so cute when you’re all whiny.”

Wilbur makes a soft, contented noise in his throat, snuggling closer to me. His breaths grow slower and slower as he slips into sleep, and I can’t help but grin.

This is everything I ever wanted.

#princesswrites #wilbur soot x reader #wilbur soot x you #wilbur x reader #mcyt x you #wilbur x you #wilbur soot smut #simpbur smut #simpbur #bursona smut #bursona #bursonas #wilbur smut #wilbur mcyt #princessfics #🦋anon

[meowthon]

What about the Obey Me! Brothers reacting to a reader who's like, so sick that the brothers think they're gonna die, but the reader's like "lmao it's just a really bad flu",,,,,,,,basically brothers taking care of a violently ill MC, I'm talking gross, sweaty, trash-can-by-the-bed, can barely keep water down sick. (I had COVID when it was first SUPER bad and I was bed ridden for like, 3 weeks and by god, did I wish I had 7 hot boys worried about me)

whoever sent this ask i fucking love you.

The brothers helping a super sick mc!

Lucifer

he’s worried asf but he’s not showing it at all. hes very calm and collected but on the inside panicking. he has intrusive thoughts galore but he’s thinking you’re already sick and the last thing you need is him causing you more stress and making it worse. he’s trying his very hardest to stay composed.

he would call barb and Solomon to see if they have any herbal remedies or spells that might help you. i’m fact he keeps solomon close to ask questions since he knows more about being human.

he’s obvi not letting you out of his sight so you’re staying in his bed and anything thing you need he will get or do for you.

he’s actually so preoccupied with you that mammon and the others and slacking off because they know they can get away with it right now.

i’ll dare say he carrie’s you to the bath and washes your body for you if you’ll allow that. otherwise he’s knocking on the door every 10 mins to make sure you’re okay.

he will literally get behind you in bed, have you lay back and get close to his chest so he can spoon feed you and hold you up at the same time. if you tell anyone about it you’re dead though.

he’s not sleeping at all because he’s just so worried about you. he has to check on you at least every five minutes and then every hour or so he will get new wash rags to put on your head to help keep the fever down.

he gets the food delivered right to his door. probably forces mammon to make it or bring it or makes one of them watch you while he prepares food for you.

Mammon

not at all composed he’s panicking and it shows. he’s running back and forth your room and yelling loudly about how you’re gonna die and he needs to do something and mumbling about how fragile humans are.

eventually he takes a few deep breaths and maybe a slap in the face by one of the boys and is back to his whole im your number one and it’s my duty to make sure you’re okay and says he’s gonna nurse you back to health.

the thing with that though is he has no idea what to do. he knows that soup is something people often have when they’re sick so he decided to whip some up for you.

needless to say it ends up a disaster. it’s taking too long. what if youve coughed up a lung while he’s gone? he’s pacing up and down the kitchen waiting for this soup to finish.

once it’s finally done he grabs oven mitts and a lid and RUNS back to your room. he’s down the hall now screaming about how amazing he is and that the soup is going to be the most amazing soup you’ve ever had but trips and spills it everywhere in the hallway. now he has to go and make more and it’s stressing even more because now he has to be away from you longer.

he’s definitely not offering to bathe and wash you. if you reallllyyyy needed him to you’re going to have to ask and the whole time he’s going to be degrading you saying “geez you’re so helpless you can’t even wash yourself” but you know he’s just embarrassed bc his face is bright red and he’s doing his best not to look at anything too long.

he lets you wear any and all of his clothes. you want any of yours? too bad. why would you need them if he’s got plenty? it’s really just a ploy to make his brothers jealous seeing you in them.

he sleeps on the couch while you sleep in his bed but he jumps up at every cough, sneeze, puke or breath. he’s always looking up to make sure you’re good.

once he knows you’re really asleep he’ll sit on the edge of the bed. he stares at you and whispers about how you can’t die and you have to pull through because he doesn’t know what he’ll do if he loses you. he might even shed a few tears he’s so worried about you.

brushes your hair for you without you asking. he doesn’t want it to get knotted up and gross since you can’t take care of yourself.

Levi

i feel like he would gag anytime you throw up but would also try to hold back your hair if it’s long enough to get in the way.

he’s fully stocked with the medicine, food, heating pads or cooling gels/ blankets and movies to keep you entertained while you’re sick.

he doesn’t game at ALL while you’re sick. he wants to be alert for any signs of something dangerous or serious.

tries his best to encourage you with words of affirmation. he’s terrible at it but he’s trying.

asks about your symptoms constantly to see if anything’s changed and congratulated any small change.

talks about how in one of his animes or books the hero took care of the love interest just like this but then panicks and is like “not that i’m saying you’re my love interest or anything hahaha LMFAO” out loud.

he will talk to henry about all his concerns and how he’s afraid you’re gonna die and he’s going to be alone again like you can’t hear him (when you’re literally right there)

he performs dances and karaoke to try and keep your spirits up and he’ll cosplay to do scenes from shows for you.

Satan

i think he’d be the most calm out of all of them. he reads enough that i think he’s have a good idea of how the human bodies works and how to help what you’re dealing with.

he will get scared when your symptoms aren’t getting any better and that’s when he starts freaking out a little.

cliche but he would read to you a lot. read you to sleep, read to you when you were bored.

he would compliment you a lot throughout the process because he wants you to know that even though you look a mess and you feel like death you’re still very attractive and wonderful.

“would you like help with eating your food?”

“would you like me to draw you a bath?”

“would you like me to give you a massage?”

he will give the BEST massages you’ve ever had. it makes him happy to know he’s relieving some of your pain. makes him feel superior to the others.

doesn’t let anyone get near you. especially mammon. he tells them all to leave you alone so you have the space you need to heal but really he’s enjoying the quality time with you even if you’re not doing much.

asmo

he’s got self care down and he’s going to use his knowledge to spoil you back to health.

he’s going to lather you in essential oils, face masks and body scrubs.

he’s going to dress you in all his pretty robes or nightgowns, brush your hair and put it up nicely if he’s able, feed you yogurts and berries.

any time you get SLIGHTLY sweaty he’s rushing you off to the bath.

don’t puke near him i think he would die. he’s gonna tell you that you better do that in the bathroom and away from him or his beautiful face/clothes. (but with love)

he thinks his presence will cure you. how could it not when he’s so lovely?

wants you to feel better already so you guys can cuddle again and talks about all the things he wants to do to you once you’re able. he can’t help it because even when sick you’re irresistible.

beel

he offers every single snack he gets to you before he eats it. he’s also gonna make health smoothies for you and help you drink them.

he’d sit by your bedside the entire time and stroke your hair or arms.

he’s extremely worried. he’d never voice it to you but it’s all over his face. those puppy dog eyes don’t lie.

asks you to stay strong for him. tells you all the reasons he thinks you’re amazing and how meeting you has benefited his life (and belphies) in so many ways and he’s so thankful for it.

talks about all the restaurants you guys will go to once you’re better.

he’d hit your back while you cough or like in an attempt to help but it probably just makes it hurt more. he’s trying.

if you have the shivers he will gently lay his jacket on top of you to keep you warm.

if you’d let him/offer it he’d take a bath with you and fill it with bubbles all the way to the top. don’t forget snacks! he has some ready incase either of you want them.

he would give a bunch of little kisses all over. mentally he thinks they heal you just a little bit.

belphie

he has no idea what to do. so clueless.

you’re in his room. he puts a trash can on either side of the bed and then crawls into bed with you.

he cuddles you until you get better. he tries his hardest to stay awake in case something happens.

he will even let you use his pillow (just don’t throw up or sweat on it)

tells beel to come lay with you guys.

would 100% use this to get out of everything. like sorry lucifer i can’t do whatever it is you want because they need me to take care of them.

he would talk to you about lilith and how she got like this one time too and he was so worried. you better pull through like she did he says.

he would be holding you, spoon position, while you sleep and silently cry because he’s so worried you’re not going to make it. he knows you said it’s not that serious and you’ll be okay but he can’t help but fear the worst.

he’d stay by your side the entire time. wouldn’t even go to the bathroom. he wants to be there the entire time.

forgive me if these aren’t the best i haven’t done this in forever.

#mammon obey me #obey me imagines #obey me x reader #obey me headcanons #obey me asmodeus #obey me belphie #obey me beelzebub #beel x reader #mammon x reader #lucifer x mc #lucifer obey me #leviathan obey me #leviathan x reader #satan obey me #satan x reader #asmodeus headcanons #asmo x reader #belphie x reader

[tired-biscuit]

can we get more cute naruto headcanons🥹

of course, love. i wasn't sure if you meant naruto - the character, or naruto - the show, so i just went along with the first option 'cause i've been feeling in a nart mood lately and he's been bouncing around my brain a lot, lol. hope you like it!!

also, i actually wrote a post about naruto headcanons a long while back and that one includes various characters. you can find it here if you wish to check it out.

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: fem!reader, mix of modern AU and canonverse // fluff so sweet it makes your teeth ache. naruto being a lovely friend/boyfriend/human being.

𝗡𝗔𝗥𝗨𝗧𝗢 𝗛𝗘𝗔𝗗𝗖𝗔𝗡𝗢𝗡𝗦

every tiktok he finds at least mildly funny, he’ll send it to you. the 99+ notifs usually come from him and him alone, and if you don't open them fast enough and react to at least half of them, he spams you over text to ‘open the fuckin app!’

wears mismatched socks all the time. usually bright, vivid colours with funky designs that peek from underneath his jeans whenever he sits down. i'm thinking happy socks type of beat.

grows hot and sweaty in his sleep, but luckily for him you’re a loyal girlfriend, so you endure it all. yes, you stay put even as he drapes his heavy arm and leg over you every night and murmurs pure gibberish into the side of your neck.

holds your hand everywhere you go. it’s not even subtle, he intertwines his fingers with your own and holds on tight. strokes your knuckles, too, and thus turns you into putty as a result.

sometimes forgets you can’t hear him speak with kurama, so whenever he zones out so out of nowhere, it’s really funny. especially if it happens in a public place, like in the middle of the street or a grocery aisle; he looks like how the windows shutting down noise sounds.

texts his kisses with ‘mwah, mwah, mwah!!!!!!’

has the ugliest picture he’s ever taken of you set as his contact photo for you. whenever he loses his phone and he asks you to call him (it happens more often than you’d think) so that he can find it, you see the caller ID and get upset. he thinks it’s the cutest thing ever.

you definitely own matching onesies (yes, even as adults.)

his sneakers always look busted af.

doesn’t like going to the hairdresser’s, but he’s more than happy to sit patiently as you cut his hair at home.

covers his ice cream in sprinkles and chocolate syrup. the thing is a nightmare to eat, but he loves it.

is very clumsy whilst eating his food, he always ruins his shirt. it drives you insane because you have to clean him up like he’s a toddler.

he yanks the covers off of you when he feels like it’s time to get out of bed and tugs you by your ankle when you try to protest as a result.

definitely a morning person.

is willing to have chapstick applied only by kisses.

never carries a backpack, he stuffs everything he owns into his pockets and if it isn’t enough, he whines until you have to put the remainder of the stuff into your bag.

is unable to take you seriously when you’re pissed off. he just finds you too cute, it’s fucking infuriating.

loves hugging you from behind.

doesn’t know how to cook, but at least he tries to help you out.

insists on showering together all the time (he’s super gentle while washing your hair, bless him.)

if you have younger siblings, he gets along with them super well. he’ll play dolls with your baby sister and will beat your little brother at every game on the console.

can’t take a decent picture to save his life. whenever you ask him to take one of you, it always ends up blurry or with the tip of his finger in the shot.

kisses you goodnight no matter the hour.

i feel like he’d make you watch the entirety of one piece with him.

has trouble focusing, but he feels very calm whenever you’re around, with his hand in your own. it’s very sweet.

so, so, so clingy. and touchy, too.

he's definitely your friend first before he becomes your boyfriend.

super nosy. if you’re gossiping over the phone with a friend, he’ll drop everything to listen in.

loves you more than you love him. it’s just how he is.

#naruto x reader #naruto uzumaki #naruto uzumaki x reader #naruto fluff #naruto x y/n #naruto x you #naruto imagines #naruto headcanons #biscuit drabbles

[sucktacular]

Cw health scare, passing out, food mention, weed + being high, mention of blood work/needles

Had a yucky time last night that was very scary and wanna vent about it

and honestly kinda hope maybe someone that has low blood sugar moments or panic attacks or whatever the fuck could give me some insight if you're comfy doing so!!

Other wise just ignore this post :3 I'm okay now! But obv will get it looked at, prommy.

Also cw disordered eating... I don't mean to do it for any particular reasons I'm just very bad at remembering to eat, eating enough, and having too low energy to make anything lately. I got fresh groceries yesterday night tho so I'll be back to eating right for a bit.

So I uh nearly passed out at 3am alone in my kitchen trying to make a sandwich and I'm kinda pissed that my body is shitting out on me and now I gotta go to the human mechanic and get my stuff looked over cuz uh... Not normal happenings

I got up after laying down in bed for a while trying to sleep but got hungry and I was a little zooted too to be fair. Collected myself. Got all dressed to leave my room and was totally fine. If it was from standing up too fast it should have definitely hit me by that point but I was fine.

Went down and took all the things out of the fridge I needed for a sandwich. Slow and meticulous , not too fast cuz I was stoned and like to take my time to be quiet. Opened the bread, got a plate, opened the mayo, mayo'd my bread, then I went to open the deli chicken and started greying out and getting really light headed and weak and shakey and cold. So I waited a moment and it kept getting worse so I sat down and propped myself in the corner of my cabinets to try and help. Drank my chocolate milk and tried to wait it out. I've had low blood sugar act like that before- cold, shakey, grey vision, weak, etc - cuz I've kind of always been really bad at making sure I eat meals and last night i had just been eating chips, crackers, and chocolate pretzels all night. Snjcjsbjdks. I've been snackless for a few days so I NEEDED snack overload.

Anyway it kept getting worse over the minute or two to the point my vision was like white and black tv static with tunnel vision. my head felt super pressurized and I couldn't hear? I've had tinnitus since I was a tiny child but it really felt like those movies when everything is muffled and all you can hear is a very tiny faint high pitch ring. I could barely hear my tinnitus which was ... Deafeningly silent and that's WEIRD. I've never heard... Nothing? So that was scary. My whole body felt sweaty and hot and I just didn't know really what to do.

I think it was low blood sugar but + weed made me have a panic attack? Maybe? Or really bad low blood sugar. Because I HAVE been having light headed episodes and feeling weak lately... Which I chocked up to vitamin deficiencies (B12, D, or iron are problems of the past so I started taking those every day for the past week or so.)

Kind of super mad doctor I saw last week insisted I don't need blood work and to just take my new meds, cuz there's definitely something going on here and while blood work probably wouldn't have stopped last night's episode from happening, at the very least I could be a step closer today than i am. :(

Uhm... Yeah anyway it was really scary and I was on the floor in the kitchen with just Frankie watching me for a hot maybe 2-5minutes... Hard to tell how long. Not a super long time but more than just like 1-2 minutes. Felt better. Tried to get up and finish sandwich making. Got grey and weak again. Sat down some more. EVENTUALLY my vision and hearing went back to normal. Finished my sandwich weakly and packed the stuff away sloppily and had to turn the hallway light on cuz I couldn't see in the dark at all. Went to my bed and ate my sandwich and still felt fucked but eventually went right back to normal.

I do still feel airy headed and not totally alert but that's been kinda how it's been this past few weeks.

So uh... Mmm. Don't like that at all. Phone on me all the time now. Doctor visit again soon for this issue specifically. Partner suggested it sounded like a panic attack or when they get a vasovagal response to needles and nearly pass out. I definitely got scared and panicked cuz it was awful and scary and felt like I was dying. I did some 5seconds in 5 seconds out breathing exercises and it helped quite a bit to calm and focus me in the moment. Which was neat! They ain't lying about those exercises even if you don't know what you're doing. Focus on the counting and the breathing in and out softly.

Uhm.... So yeah if anyone actually genuinely has a comment or experience with that I'd love to hear. Otherwise I'm okay so far today and keeping an eye on it...

Problem also is I don't... Well, I have agoraphobia basically and it's very hard for me to go to a doctor without help from a friend or my partner and I can't figure out any online telehealth things in Ontario that don't cost money or aren't just for prescription renewals so uh not sure what to really do. I know I need to get it looked into but my GOD you know how fear will make you not care for yourself? Gestures. I'm trying so hard not to jump to the conclusion that it might be pre diabetes because my family has no history thankfully but the signs arent looking good..

#sucktacular sucks #me: im gonna be so safe about my info online. no tracking me!!! #me also so heres all the health conditions im struggling with yall lol #mostly a vent but also like dont be shy if u do have a thought about it #cuz it helps me look into it until i can get to a doctor to talk about it. I WILL. but it might be moment

[ink-stained-words]

-It'd be an early flight, because I dislike flights in the afternoon, it takes up the day in an unhelpful way

-Which means I'll be annoying & make us get to the airport unreasonably early

-I'll buy you a silly neck pillow thing so you can take a nap if you want. Or, more likely, I'll buy you coffee & a monster as an apology for making you wake up at 345am

-I don't understand the appeal of neck pillows. They're not comfortable. As far as Things To Sleep On Upright goes, it's like. Other people's shoulders (always in very low supply, sadly), a wall, literally everything else, & then neck pillows

-They're deeply uncomfortable

-But I digress. Airports are less busy super early so security won't take too terribly long to navigate

-We can people watch while we wait. Find the people with the strangest outfits. Or the people who's clothes we'd steal

-I saw someone with a very cool coat at an airport once & nearly sent a picture to you. Figured it'd be weird to take a picture of someone, though

-Then we could walk to the gate & walk down all the fun hallways with the lines on the ground that bump into our suitcases, & they'll make the fun clicky noises

-I like airport hallways. I genuinely love them

-Then we can find nice seats in the terminal (such things do not exist but let me dream) and set our bags down as if we won't need to pick them right back up to go get breakfast

-Bc c'mon, we don't think anything through

-Then we can find a nice food shop even if it means we have to walk to the other side of the airport for something we both feel like eating

-I repeat, I *love* airport hallways, we'll be there super early & have time to kill, we can go exploring

-Then we can actually get on the plane & sit for Forever & it'll be very boring, but friends always have more fun on flights

-It's fun watching them sometimes. Sharing a book or headphones (we could have Spotify hours!!) & being very quiet as the other takes a nap & laughing at jokes a bit too loudly

-It'll be such a long flight

-We'll have to play every single silly game, like hangman on the back of the napkin the flight attendant brings with the snack things

-We will definitely bring our own snacks. Overpriced airport snacks, whoo

-We'll get very bored. Restless & anxious

-But we'll also both be restless & anxious, meaning you don't have to glance over to the other people who are doing Perfectly Fine & feel weird bc why are you having an awful time when they're all vibing

-So it'll be. I dunno. Validating

-Spiritiually I'm giving you a hug or simply holding your hand for all the anxious boring awful parts of the flight, when time starts dragging on for forever & time feels wrong & everything's awful

-Our hands would get extremely sweaty bc flights are always both too hot and too cold, but that's fine

-Landing in new airports is fun. More things to look at

-More hallwayssss

-And then we can drag out suitcases along all of the click clack lines on the ground & up escalators & stuff & rent a car bc I'll be damned if I can't by then

-Stupid fucking car rental laws

-Then we can drive to the hotel or just get coffee if we haven't completely crashed yet, & we'll just

-Be there. In a place where the schedule & structure is entirely decided by us. No planning things around people, hoping they stay on task

-We can drink boba & sit in the pool & I'll inevitably get a bit sunburnt & you're not allowed to laugh at me for it (I know you wouldn't, but it's funnier to say it)

-We could watch boring movies in the hotel room before giving up & crowding around a phone & watching Netflix

-I miss listening to your commentary

-I wonder how nice our hotel would be

-Maybe it'll have a mini fridge

-I'll wake up early & try very hard not to wake you up & fill it up with monsters & vitamin water (bc I also should probably drink things)

-I might bring my laptop for tv things. That'd be fun. You can watch me finish Portal 2 since it's taken me More Than A Year to complete it

-I'll work more on it tmrw when I get home

-We could find tiny shops to walk around

-Window shoppinggg

-I'll buy you a souvenir stuffie

-Much more fun than a magnet

-You can collect them & give them silly names based on one of the best silly inside joke things we did during that trip

-Sylas I could've bought you one at Sequoia. You could've named it Everything Bagel. Sylassss this is a tragedy

-What would the one from our sleepover have been named

-I need ideas, that was your trip, what stood out the most from that visit for you, I was very very sleepy for most of it

-Sleepy in a very content way that means that I found *everything* hilarious & couldn't possibly pick out one thing

-But yes back to the trip. We'll be broke college students but we'll have enough money to do some nice fun things

-We can get ice cream or literally anything we want. Boba twice in the same day. Spontaneous movie time bc we have 2 hrs to kill & that silly horror movie can't be *that* terrible

-Coffee potionnnnn

-And going to the beach as late as we can bc maybe there'll be a sunset, beach sunsets are so so pretty

-We're definitely going to a beach

-I dislike sand but we have to build a sandcastle

-What should our castle be named, I'm deeply curious. The combined architectual efforts of Sylas & Lauren

-That should be its title

-And yes your name goes first, it always does. Fuck the alphabet. Molly goes before Yasha so Sylas goes before Lauren, I'm rearranging the letters

-Greeks or whoever invented it did so a long time ago & it could do with some revamping

-First on the agenda: L goes after S. But before J

-That's the entire agenda

-We still need to go to one of those photo booths in the mall

-I need one for my wall, & yours can go on your wall

-I feel it's very unfair that you have multiple Polaroids of me & I have none of you

-Tragic

-We would go through a lot of polaroid film on a trip

-I'd see a squirrel & become very emotionally attached to it & need a picture of my brand new second bestest friend

-You'll still outrank the squirrel, don't worry

-Anyways I'm rambling. I hope your trip is good. I know for absolute certain that the London part will be, & I'm so so excited for you

-But I hope all of it is nice. You could even have vc nights with Ronan! I'll still say g'night like I always do, but it'll be at the wrong time. Apologies for the silly time zone things

-We'll go on an adventure some day

-You'll have to deal with me getting excited by silly things like clouds out the window or mountains or *water* & airport hallways & escalators & people walking by with cool coats

-It'll be brilliant. We'll walk all the way to the other side of the airport to get the perfect snacks & talk the entire way, there and back, surprising no one

-Everyone will be very annoyed with our existence

-I'm very happy that you exist. I love you

-And thus concludes the list about travel things

#writing #surprising no one #I have made another list #this time about travel things #I dunno #I like lists #it's like a structure to lock my brain in place #and then I do #and it's easier than having Thoughts #so I make lists #bc I like thinking about future things #maybe it makes them a bit more possible #I'm manifesting a vacation for us #it'll be amazing

[heavysoldat]

heat

tfatws!bucky barnes x reader

summary after the heat goes out in your apartment, the cold brings bucky back to a place he never wanted to be again, leaving him desperate for a way to forget.

warnings SMUT (unprotected shower sex, cunnilingus, fingering, desperate!bucky, creampie), insinuations of PTSD and nightmares, classic hurt/comfort porn fic

notes i have so many wips and instead i post something completely unrelated. this may or may not be inspired by the fact that my heat went out, and when it finally came back my heater literally fucking exploded. i love the city

The blankets aren’t enough to keep you warm tonight.

The apartment you share with Bucky is freezing, the winter snow and lack of heat in your building making the night almost unbearable. Like always, your landlord said he’d fix it later — but by that, you know he means weeks.

1:45 AM.

Bucky’s asleep next to you, having finally drifted off an hour ago while you were cuddled up against your headboard, watching some sitcom Bucky had never seen before. He was already uneasy. You know that much.

You weren’t so lucky with sleep. You’ve been tossing — but even the personal radiator of a super soldier next to you couldn’t warm you enough to sleep, your insomnia gathering too much for your body tonight. Just one of those nights.

It starts with a small huff. There’s a quiver in his tone, barely noticeable, but you know him too well; that itself is enough is to set off alarm bells in your mind.

The huff turns into groans. His movements turn into tosses and turns. Everything extends into something aggressive, until he’s left panting and shaking against your freshly cleaned bedsheets, fingernails ripping the tiniest of holes into the fabric.

Your mind runs a hundred miles a minute — it’s been so long since you’ve seen him have a nightmare. It’s been so good. Nothing but peaceful sleep for the past four months. You’ve almost forgotten what to do.

You shake him by the shoulder, fighting back the panic you feel rising into your chest. He jolts awake, eyes wide in fear, body pale and shaking. “Hey, hey, baby,” You say. “It’s okay. I’m right here.”

Bucky looks around, then back at you. His body is sweaty and he's trembling uncontrollably. He stares at you, hot tears falling down his cheeks. "I'm right here." You repeat. "I'm right here. You're safe."

He stares at you, blank and unreadable, and you reach out to him. When he doesn’t flinch, you wrap your arms around him, pulling him into an embrace. He pauses, no read, but eventually he huddles himself against you, face nuzzling into your neck.

After a moment, he sniffles. Pulling his head up, slowly but surely, he leans his head against yours. "I'm sorry," He says.

“Don’t be.” You say. “You can’t help it. It’s not your fault.”

There’s still hot tears in his eyes threatening to spill. You wipe the ones that have already broken through with your fingers, watching as he nuzzles his face into the palms of your hands.

You know how he gets when it’s cold. Nothing ever goes well for him when it’s cold.

”Do you want to take a shower?” You ask, voice soft, “We still have hot water.”

He looks up at you, eyes puppy-like and sad, and before he nods. You smile down at him, grabbing his hand, leading him off of your bed and towards the bathroom. You flip the lights on, walking on the cold tile towards the shower and turning the water on.

Motioning for him to strip, you check the temperature. “Okay, Buck,” You hum, “The water’s nice. You go ahead and get in, I’ll come back with some more blankets and snacks. We can watch a movie once you’re done, how does that sound?”

He doesn’t respond for a moment, going silent.

”Can you come in with me?” He asks, voice trembling. Your heart breaks for him. There’s nothing more you want to do than reach out, kill every demon he’s ever faced and hold him tighter than anyone ever has, but you know you can’t. Some battles you have to leave.

”Of course, if that’s what you want.”

He nods. Slow.

You peel of your clothes, piece by piece, before hopping into the shower and under the warm water. After a moment, you feel him step in beside you, staying close behind you.

Bucky’s arms wrap around the expanse of your waist, pulling your back towards his front. His head digs back into your shoulder, breath shaky against your skin. Goosebumps melt against you.

”You’re safe.” You say, for the third time tonight. “I’m here. I’m not going to leave you.”

“I know,” He says. “I know.”

You stay like this for a moment more. Just holding each other, skin against skin, the stubble on his face tickling your neck. His hands keep themselves respectful. They always do.

“I love you,” He says, kissing your neck with soft pecks, “I love you.”

”I love you too, baby,” You hum.

He turns you around, gently, before placing a tender kiss against your lips. It’s hesitant, and you can still feel his body trembling against yours. You help him by bringing him closer, deepening it. Giving him the passion he deserves.

You have to stand on your tippy toes to kiss him.

Bucky’s body presses against yours on instinct, hands growing impatient without him even knowing, itching to go through the valley of your skin.

His lips part from yours, barely, mouths still ghosting over each other as he speaks. “Doll…”

”I know, Buck.” You say. “I know.”

”No.” He says, with the must confidence he’s had tonight, but is immediately contradicted by a shaky breath. “I need… I need you, honey.”

“You have me.”

”I need you.”

His mouth leaves sloppy kisses over your neck, devouring you, hands kneading into the flesh of your ass. You gasp, grabbing onto his shoulders for stability.

”Buck-“

”No,” He’s pleading, “Make it go away.”

Bucky falls down to his knees on the tile. He parts your legs himself, finding no use in waiting. His face falls between your thighs, pressing hot, breathy kisses against them, practically burying his face into your legs, nuzzling into you like a kitten.

“You don’t have to.” You say, almost panicked by his sudden demeanor.

”I want to,” He says in-between kisses. “I need to. Please. Fuck, please, let me have you?”

Bucky’s begging you, and who are you to say no? Who are you to deny him, teary-eyed and sloppy beneath your legs?

”Okay,” You breathe. “Okay.”

As soon as you say it, his face buries itself in your cunt. His tongue slips anywhere he can fit it; licking against your wet hole and your swollen clit. The desperation he’s giving you is going straight to your core.

He’s like a man starved, sucking and licking and kissing the entire expanse of your pussy. He latches his mouth onto your clit, sucking with a plan, fingers slipping inside your clenched hole. You can barely stand, grabbing onto his short hair for dear life, praying to God you don’t fall and crush this man under you.

”Fuck,” You’re moaning, gasping, “fuck, fuck,”

He doesn’t let up. Fingers are sliding against that spongy spot inside of your cunt, lips suckling you like a newborn calf — your orgasm builds in you like a wire that’s about to snap. Your legs are shaking against Bucky’s head, his free hand digging into your skin to make sure you don’t fall.

“I’m cumming,” You can feel it, it’s so close, almost there— “Fuck, Bucky, I’m cumming!”

Your legs trap him in your cunt when they squeeze around him. Your orgasm tears through you, shaking your body and making you fall back against the wall. He fucks you through it with his fingers, moaning his own symphony against your trembling cunt.

”Fuck,” You moan, moving your legs from off his shoulders. Bucky presses kisses down your thighs, back up, finally standing up on front of you and kissing you deeply.

“You didn’t have to do that,” You say, panting against his mouth, “I’m supposed to be making you feel better here.”

He chuckles at that, and the sound itself arms your heart. He kisses the tip of your nose, a smile finally making it’s way to his face. “That did make me feel better.”

”Mmm,” You hum, hands wandering against his chest, “I’m glad.”

Bucky swallows, thick, biting down into his lip with a vengeance — “Can I…” Hands, one warm and one cold, slip down your spine, making their way towards your ass again, “Can I fuck you?”

You breathe out. “Do you even have to ask?” Your voice comes out as a whisper, cold against his skin, but it’s the words that make him shiver.

"Please." You whisper. “Fuck me.”

You hear him grunt, before his mouth hot is on yours again. Your back presses back against the shower wall, and his hands go under your thighs to lift you up. His cock his hard against your thigh, throbbing and leaking precum onto your skin.

“Can you say it?” He pants, pulling on your lip with his teeth, “Please?”

”I want you inside me, Bucky. Please.”

That does it for him.

His cock catches against your hole, before he slides it inside you without a stutter. Bucky groans tightly, hand grabbing at your breast and kneading it.

You gasp. Moaning, you say, “Feels good,” as he humps his hips against yours. The movements are slow, but his cock is deep — buried in you like he wants to consume you, because he does. He needs to be as close to you as he can. As close as his body will let him. He needs to devour you.

“You’re so tight,” He pants, “You’re so tight.”

”Harder,” You moan. “Harder.”

His hips begin to snap against yours. His balls are slapping against the bottom of your ass, his face buried in your neck again, moaning and whimpering into your skin. His voice is high, wanting, needing.

”I need it,” He’s panting, whimpering, desperately clinging to you, “I need it, fuck, please, I need it so bad — please!”

You grip onto his back, nails almost breaking his skin. “Cum for me, fuck, please, cum in me. Fill me up.”

With a grab of his ass, his hips stutter and his cock throbs. He delivers one last snap of his hips before the dam breaks, cumming inside of your cunt with a strained whimper.

”There you go,” Your voice is barely a breath. “Good, honey, you’re so good.”

There’s silence as you both come down, nothing left but your heavy pants and the pattering of the shower water. You watch the steam fog up the glass of the shower, Bucky pressing sleepy kisses to your collarbones. “I love you, I love you so much.”

You hum, hands curling into his hair, “I love you.”

Another beat.

“Can we still watch that movie?” He asks, still panting, still sleepy, still sweet. Still angelic. “I want to go to bed and veg.”

You laugh wholeheartedly. “Of course we can.”

You wash each other off in the steamy water, before you’re carried to bed and warmed with bagged snacks and canned soda — laying idly with your lover, a terrible comedy plastered on the TV.

And when he’s at peace, you couldn’t be happier.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #sebastian stan #sebastian stan smut #sebastian stan x reader #marvel fanfiction #marvel fanfic #marvel smut #my writing #bucky barnes fluff

[watermelonlovershigh]

You should def do a Coachella smut where reader sees Shania running her hands on Harry’s body, gets a little jealous, and reminds him he’s yours after the show!!

AN: I'm combining this with another ask i got that was basically the same idea for the request. its super short but i hope you enjoy. remember feedback is always appropriated. sorry for mistakes. this was rushed.

other ask that requested this

It's around twelve the day after Harry's headlining show at Coachella. He was so exhausted by the time you both made it back to the airbnb you're staying at after his performance. You wanted sex last night when he looked to be at his prime but knew he needed sleep.

Now waking up mid-day in bed together, you just had to have some hot and needy sex with the rockstar himself. In bed, after a few minutes of sleepy pillow talk to wake up fully, Harry was pounding your pussy into the mattress.

His knees bent into the bed as he hoovers above you while you had your hands grabbing at his tattooed biceps. Both you and Harry had bed-head and sweat glistening on your bodies. His cock is thrusting so deep into your cunt that your body is trembling already.

As Harry continues to fuck you on the bed, you get an idea. You let go of your grip that you had on his upper arms and glide your hands down his buff chest. It sends shivers down Harry's body as well as making his thrusting hips falter for a moment.

Looking down towards your scrunched up face, Harry questions in a heaving tone, "What's that for, m'love?" referring to your hands that continue to caress his sweaty chest.

Taking a deep break, you reply, "Just, Shania got to rub your chest last night. Made me wanna do it." Harry lets out a grunting laugh at your confession.

"Is someone jealous, hm? Jealous Shania Twain rubbed my chest during our collab on stage last night?" Harry asks, panting heavier now that his orgasm is bubbling quickly in his tummy.

"Yeah, a bit but......" you begin but are cut off when Harry takes one hand he had beside your head, steadying himself, and reaches between your conjoined bodies to rub your clit. "Mhm, shit. I'm gonna come, babe."

That only makes Harry go harder, wanting to make sure he hits all the right spots. Your hands go up to his shoulders as your arms were too weak to continue their gentle assault to his chest. This forces Harry to lean further down, now fully on top of you.

You wrap your legs around his waist with your arms around his neck and then suddenly you're arching your back as you come around his cock. All the squeezing you're doing is making Harry come as well, ejaculation spurting deep inside your cervix.

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

Basically after your afternoon sex, you weren't jealous of Shania's doings anymore because Harry gave you all his attention for the rest of the day. Making you come several more times from his fingers, tongue, and cock. As well as attentive aftercare that involved baths and cuddles.

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

(remember concepts less then 600 words don't get my tag list)

My Masterlist Masterpost

#harry styles #harry styles concept #harry styles short story #harry styles coachella #harry styles smut #harry x reader #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles smutty #harry styles fic request #harry styles shania twain

[green-socks]

Hi Sam and congratulations on your milestone! You are such a sweetheart and I’m glad our paths crossed here 🎉❤️

For your celebration, may I ask a short thing with a TF boy of your choice and the trope “there was only one bed”? It’s such a classic and I love it so much 🥰

Darling I'm always super excited to see you in my notifications or anywhere really!💖🥰 Thank you for this request!! I had a lot of fun with it, thought it might not be quite what you expected (well maybe the boy I chose is no surprise because I clearly have a problem), but I hope you enjoy anyway!😂😂 Also you said short thing but I ran with it so it's not so short?

Night Terrors

Pairing: Benny Miller x gn!reader (platonic!)

Summary: After a party at Frankie's house you're too tired to drive home, so the host of course let's you stay the night. But there's only one bed left, and Benny's already in it!

Words: 1.2k

Warnings: I curse?

MASTERLIST

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

”Sorry, I can only offer the garret, all the others are already taken,” Frankie explained to you apologetically.

“Frankie, it’s okay, I’ll be happy as long as I just get to sleep. Thank you for letting me stay, I appreciate it,” you told him earnestly, even while fighting to keep your eyes open. You were so tired it had been a relief when Frankie had said he didn’t want you driving home this late, because you had honestly been dreading the possibility of falling asleep while driving, even if the journey wasn’t long.

“There’s also only one bed up there, but Benny said he was fine sharing, if that’s okay with you? I didn’t want him driving this late either.”

“Yeah, that’s fine. I’ll head up there in a minute.”

“You got everything you need? We put some blankets and pillows on the bed, but if you need anything else, let me know,” Frankie said, waving to you as he headed up to his own bedroom where his wife was already asleep. You could tell Frankie was just as tired as you were, and you knew you wouldn’t be bothering him even if you did need something. You’d be fine.

You were a little disappointed having to share with Benny, even if you didn’t admit it out loud. Not because he made you uncomfortable or anything like that - he was one of your best friends - but you were just used to sleeping alone and preferred that. You had never shared with Benny before, but you had shared with Santiago once or twice during similar situations when the house was too full after a party, and he had been a perfectly nice bunkmate. Now he had a girlfriend, though, so he was obviously sleeping with her.

Benny was already lying on the bed when you made your way up to the top of the house into the tiny attic room.

“Hey, could you put my phone to charge? I was too tired to get up anymore,” he mumbled sleepily into his pillow, pointing at his phone next to him.

“Yeah, sure.”

You took his phone and charger and plugged it in what you assumed was the only socket in the room before turning the light off. With the last of your strength, you peeled off your jeans, and if Benny heard you whining at the effort it took, he didn’t comment on it.

“G’night,” Benny slurred as you fell into the pillows next to him.

“Night, Ben,” you slurred back.

-

An undetermined time later you woke up all sweaty and hot. The reason became quickly apparent as you registered the human furnace plastered along your back.

“Bennyyy,” you groaned, elbowing him in the ribs, “get off me.”

Benny only grunted and rolled off you, landing on his back.

“How are you so hot? It’s winter,” you demanded grumpily, even as you turned your back on him again.

“Thanks, babe, you’re hot too.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

-

The next time you woke up it was to Ben snoring. He was still lying on his back with his neck bent in a weird position, making his breathing sound much more laborious than it should.

You huffed, poking his side again. “You’re snoring,” was all you said before once again turning away from him, continuing your sleep.

“Sorry,” came his groggy reply.

-

You felt something poking at your arm insistently.

“Did you just take my pillow?”

You tried to ignore the bothersome poking and were drifting away again when you felt a hand on your shoulder.

“Did you take my pillow?”

“Whah?” Your barely conscious mind tried to comprehend why you were being bothered again.

“You took my pillow.”

You shook your head to clear it. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“You just took my pillow,” Benny insisted.

“I did not! Why the fuck would I take your pillow?! I was sleeping,” you hissed at him.

“Yes, you did, you sat up, reached over, and yanked my pillow from under my head!”

“If I did then why is your pillow under your head right now?” you whisper-yelled, getting more confused by the second.

“I don’t know,” Benny shrugged, “all I know is you took my pillow.”

“What the fuck is happening..” You stared at him with wide eyes in the darkness. “Which one of us is hallucinating right now?”

“I dunno. Just leave my pillow alone.” And with that he settled himself down to sleep again.

-

The fourth time you woke up was to Benny’s arm landing on your stomach.

“Hey, ouch.”

It seemed that Benny hadn’t woken up and had just switched positions while sleeping, so you decided to punish him for it and threw his arm back on his own torso as hard as you could. Man, his arm was heavy.

You shut your eyes again, only for the arm to come flying back a minute later, landing on your stomach again. You let out a little growl in annoyance and again threw the arm back, this time pushing his side for good measure.

Again, you shut your eyes, hoping you would still be able to fall asleep quickly, when the arm came at you for the third time, this time with his stupid forearm landing directly on your face.

“For fuck’s sake--” You sat up angrily to glare at Benny, only to find him wide awake and laughing noiselessly.

“You should’ve seen your face,” he said between chuckles.

“You little shit.”

“Sorry, I couldn’t resist. I’ll get up now, you can still sleep for a little longer if you wanna.”

-

Needless to say, you were unable to continue sleeping after that, so a while of huffing and puffing and tossing and turning later, you got up to follow Benny downstairs.

Most of the others were already up and having breakfast when you joined them.

“Good morning,” Santi’s girlfriend chirped, offering you a glass of juice. “You sleep well?”

“Remember when we slept there last time?” Santi asked her, pulling her to him, smirking. “It was fun, wasn’t it?”

“Oh yes, Benny and I had so much fun up there, too,” you said, rolling your eyes at them. They were being too lovey-dovey for your taste this early in the day.

The lovebirds froze in their nuzzling, turning to look at you with raised eyebrows. “You-- you and Benny--?”

“What?! God no, that was sarcasm! I did not, in fact, have fun with him last night,” you grumbled. “Kept waking me up.”

“What about you?” Benny chimed in. “You kept kicking me and made weird noises all the time. Made me wonder if I should’ve called an exorcist,” he joked.

“I did no such thing!”

“Did too!”

“And you wonder why none of the rest of us ever want to bunk with you two…” Will muttered from behind his coffee cup, making both you and Benny look at him with utterly scandalized expressions.

Apparently, you and Benny were both little terrorists and the rest were all too happy to have you bother each other with it. You were definitely thinking twice before your next sleepover with these people you called friends.

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

tagsies (as always, this is not an obligation to do anything!!): @writeforfandoms @starlightmornings @lorecraft @niki-xie @salome-c @ickleronniekinsemotionalrange @sgnjimmy @lorosette @time-is-a-lake

#benny miller x gn!reader #benny miller x reader #benny miller fanfiction #triple frontier fanfiction #i accidentally wrote something #celebrating socks

[switchbladedreamz]

Oops

Bucky Banres x Fem!Reader

18+, minors do not read

Warning: smut, oral (female recieving), spanking, squirting, alcohol ingestion, unprotected sex, drunk sex, dub!con, wear a condom, couch sex.

Summary: the a/c is out in the apartment complex and Bucky asks if you have an extra fan available.

***I, the author, do not consent to stealing, plagiarism, or posting any of my work anywhere unless done so by myself***

I awoke with a shortness of breath. I was groggy and sweating. It's hot, when did it get hot? I laid in bed for a few more seconds, waking up. 'Ugh, I'm all sweaty and gross'

Making my way out of my room and into the hallway, I see the soft glow the electronic thermostat is casting. Now facing it, it unsurprisingly reads "Error? How the fuck? I'll have to call the landlord in the morning, fucking apartments- I swear.". I suddenly jump and scream as there's an unexpected knock on my door. Looking down at my naked body I rush back to my room to grab a shirt and some shorts.

I opened the door, the light from the hallway burning my corneas. Retinas? My eyes. Burning my eyes. Blinking a few times, I was able to focus on a chest, perspiring and a heavily breathing chest. Well cut and damn, mouth watering. I could my laundry on those abs. Looking up I was met with a face. A grumpy face. "Its sweltering, do you have an extra fan?" "Well hello to you too lovely neighbor, James. Wanna come in?" He smiled and awkwardly "right, sorry. And yeah sure, also its Bucky" I walked backwards pulling the door with me letting him in. "I don't have any fans Buckmeister, but I could take you to the store and we buy some.". "At 2 in the morning? And with your shirt on backwards?" "Hey! At least I have a shirt on and Wal-Mart is 24 hours.". I pulled my arms into my shirt and twisted it around while Bucky tried not to stare as the shirt rode up over my stomach. I smiled to myself. "You go get a shirt and some shoes on and I'll get some shoes on. Are my shorts on backwards too?". I pulled my shirt up over my ass and turned to show him. He cleared his throat and smiled his usual dopey cute smile "nope, all good". I walked away to my room to put shoes on. "Please tell me your car has A/C!" He shouted after me.

"Oh fuck yeah" i moaned "feels so good" Bucky replied in a groan. We were ecstatic to feel the cool A/C hit us in the car. Pulling out of the multistory carpark, we started our journey to find some fans.

"I can't believe this has been happening literally every other week, what a shitty landlord." "I know, he's being such a douche. When I moved in, he glared at me- I think he hates "disabled people". He has made so many weird comments". "Are you kidding me? What a dick!" We chatted as we made our way to the fan aisle. Turns out the landlord is much shittier than we both thought. "So what brings you to New York?" "College, I'm a teacher, ASL". "ASL? What's that?" "American Sign Language." "Oh yeah, where do you teach? Like Kindergarten or something?" " College students.".

We picked out two big kitchen fans and two small desk fans. After checking out, Buck's stomach growled. Loudly. I laughed and looked at his stomach "Hey I'm hungry too but you don't gotta scream about it."

Finally home after stuffing our faces with McDonald's and due to Bucky's super soldier metabolism, we got Taco Bell too. And stopped for ice cream at Walmart again. "Fuck my guy, how much can you put away? Hell yeah!" "What? I'm a pig, you arent grossed out?" "No, I like people who can eat.". "Well, wanna go to the liquor store?" He posed the question. "Oh hell yeah, you read my mind.".

Now home I unlocked my apartment when- "oh shit." "What?" "I think I locked my keys in my apartment." "You're shitting me", I deadpanned. "I'm so sorry." "Ah don't apologize, I'll put you up on the couch. Yay! Sleep over" I poked at his ribs. "Yay, cause being an 107 year old adult and locking your keys accidentally in your apartment is something to celebrate" he rolled his eyes. "Well jeez party pooper, if you'd rather sleep in the hallway then.." "shit, no I'm sorry. Thank you. But we can drink together" I faked a gasp "that is very true. And hopefully it'll distract us from the heat of a thousand suns in here. A warning, I do tend to get shirtless when drunk." "Well then I guess I'll just have to get pantsless" he wriggled his brows. 'Oh dear Gods, yes'.

3 liquid marijuanas

5 shots of caramel Smirnoff

And 3 games of mini shots pong later, we were floored. Well I was. Buckmiester was off his ass too. We were sitting on the floor eating our melted ice cream. Bucky missed his mouth with spoon and spilled the ice cream on his shirt. "Shit, I like this shirt" he whined before pulling it off. I bit my lip, my inebriation not caring about hiding my attraction to my neighbor. "You like what you see, Doll?" His voice dropped. I blushed and nodded. He leaned forward and crawled on his knees to me. Being drunk, and an absolute genius, apparently, I dropped ice cream on my shirt too. "Oops." I whispered and looked up at him, trying my best to look innocent. Bucky longed forward and ripped my shirt off, well over me. And pulled me in for a kiss. Hit teeth it mine, I could taste the alcohol and mint chocolate chip ice cream on his tongue. It was messy and perfect at the same time. I groaned as he sucked my bottom lip into his mouth. I pulled back, "bedroom.". He nodded "bedroom.". He stood up a little too quickly and had to sit on the couch. I made my way up the couch. "You know, the couch is a perfectly suitable place" he said as he grabbed me forced me onto his lap. "We're both too drunk to go to the bed". His metal hand was warm too, no doubt because of the apartment, even will all four fans set on high. His lips kissed from the shell of my ear to my collarbone, "ssshhhh. No need for logic right now". Metal hand on my breast, and flesh one on my ass, he reared his hand back and slapped my ass hard. "Oh fuck, do it again". He rolled us over onto my back and him on top. He literally ripped my shorts off, pushing my knees to my stomach, he spanked me again. "Dirty girl" he whispered as his stubble graced my breast as he sucked and nibbled on my breasts. His flesh hand made it's way down, caressing my sides and my stomach and the top of my thigh, he forced my legs apart and thrusted his clothes bulge against my unclothed sex. I grabbed his neck and pulled his face to mine and kissed him, I felt him grow harder against me. "You're not naked enough". "Yes ma'am" he smiled and got up, this time a little slower. "Just curious, why no panties?" The smile on his face was wide, "I sleep naked". His smile grew wicked, "oh, really?". He suddenly went to his knees. He grabbed my ankle and pulled my sideways. "That's hot" was all he replied as I corrected my self and rested my legs on his shoulders. "Fuck that feels good" My voice shifted, wavering, as his mouth marked my thighs. Kissing, biting, nibbling, hickied, light teeth marks.

"Just a quick taste" he whispered, then licked my pussy, his tongue swiveling around my slit then up to my clit. He kissed my mound, then dove back in. My moans turned into screams as he worked his tongue on my clit as he slipped a metal finger inside of me. His flesh hand groped my breast, and trailed up to my throat and squeezed and he added a second finger and curled. I think my body took a screenshot as a I came on his fingers. His fingers pounded into me faster as I rode out my high and he stared at my face. I calmed down after coming down, I looked at him confused. "What?" "You're fucking beautiful when you cum for me, when you cum on my fingers. Wonder how beautiful you look when you come on my cock, darlin". Before I could reply, he thrusted his thick member into me. Stretching me open. "Oooh fuuck Bucky!" I screamed and hung onto his back. He didn't stop, didn't let me adjust. "That's it doll, say my fuckin name, scream it!". He pulled my hair, as he exposed my neck he bit it. I was a whimper mess, the punishing pace he was pounding into me, the feeling of the bite and the pain of my hair being pulled. "Want the whole apartment complex to hear you screaming my name. Want them to know who you belong to." I wailed as he hit the special spot in me, it made me see stars. "That's it bunny, let it all out, cum for me". He pulled out and flipped me over. "You doin okay?" He paused, all I could do to answer him was nodding. He laughed. "Are cock drunk already? I barely fuck you and you already can't speak". He slipped himself in again, "aaaaaah" "that's right" he thrusted, pulled my hips up. "Who owns you baby?" "You do". He moved again, spanking me, he shouted "I said, who owns you?!". I mustered all my strength, I took too long, he spanked me again and again, as the blows landed on my behind- he didn't stop his pace. This time he spanked me with his metal hand, "you do!" I cried out. He spanked me again and I came, hard. I wailed as my legs shook, I felt him pull out and something warm hitting my back.

For some reason I felt more tired than usual, and more sober. "Hold on honey, let me get you a wash cloth". I hummed in response. That was intense, amazing even. He came back shortly and gently cleaned me up. I felt the rag between my legs, he started wiping me knees and lower thighs first which was weird. Moving up I felt it gently rub my sensitive pussy, then my back. He kissed my head and helped me sit up. "Have you ever squirted before?" "No, why?" "Because you just did." "I'm sorry, what?" I looked at his lap as he was wiping at his legs, it was wet. And then I turned to look at my couch, also wet. "Woah." I whispered softly.

"Not to sound too arrogant but do you think you can walk?" I huffed a laugh "I don't think so.". With that, he picked me up and we stumbled our way to my room. It had finally cooled off and laid me down on the outside of my bed and he crawled on the other side. "Good night miss (Y/n)" he cuddled me and pulled my head to his chest. "Nighty night Buckmeister". He chuckled and kissed my head again and we snuggled in a soothing slumber.

#smut #bucky x you #winter solder #bucky barns x y/n #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x reader smut #winter soldier x reader smut

[wizkiddx]

work with me

this is for @worldoftom 'lolbrosgetsicktoo' challenge event thing - go check it out bcos lots of much better writers have got involved too✨! I'm v new to these things but I tried :) the prompt was: 'would you quit whining and just get in the bath' . (also look at me acc posting sort of regularly, who'd of thought?!?!)

warnings: sickness / fever (more dramatic than it needs to be) / LOTS of medical inaccuracies

summary: when tom doesn't take advice and ends up very ill, very far from home, there's one person whose stuck dealing with it

“Please Tom… I need you to work with me!”

It wasn’t his fault he was being a complete nightmare, though your patience was wearing off somewhat.

For context, you were in Morocco, where he had been filming part of his next film, which only made trying to take care of him that bit harder.

Everyone got ill sometimes. It wasn’t his fault.

That was the mantra ringing through your head, even if you had a more challenging time believing it. Tom wasn’t stupid, as much as he liked to joke about it. HOWEVER, what he was less good at was heeding warnings. He was a white boy in Morrocco; the health and safety briefing had literally been aimed at him. Had he taken the advice not to eat any dodgy looking meats at the market?

Of course not; that’d be boring.

Everyone else was fine. You’d all sampled Morroccos culture without giving yourselves the worst case of food poisoning you’d ever witnessed. But not Tom - possibly one of the only ‘indispensable’ people on the set. If you, or one of the minor characters, or even the director, had got ill - the show could continue.

When you’d been rudely awoken by your phone going off, you’d known instantly. It was as if you’d told him not to take a bite out of the weird burger once you were away from the eager view of the street vendor. Sure enough, with bleary eyes, you hissed at the brightness of the phone screen before seeing ‘Tom H’ on the screen.

“Y/n?” His voice was croaky, but just from the single call of your name, it was clear he was feeling sorry for himself.

“Are you okay? It’s late T.”

“Um I… can you come over? You…you might need the key I’m - um- in the bathroom.”

As his stylist, it technically wasn’t part of your job description to also be mother when he was sick, but (unfortunately for you) after the 3 years working side by side with him - you were also friends.

Which you were almost regretting by the second time rinsing the toilet bowl clean after he’d evacuated what seemed to be the majority of his vital organs into it. Honestly, it was impressive how he managed to keep going.

That had been at around 4 in the morning- the doctor had been called at 8, coinciding beautifully with his 5th toilet extravaganza. Once the doctor had confirmed your original, if completely unqualified, diagnosis of food poisoning - you hadn’t been able to bite your tongue. Perhaps an ‘i told you so’ might’ve slipped past your lips, but Tom was a bit too out of it to argue back.

You’d been given firm advice from the doctor - he said little sips of water, rest and control his temperature. It all had seen pretty simple - though the action? Not so much.

It wasn’t his fault, yet Tom was not super compliant. You and Harry had both been taking turns in practically forcing him to take sips of water, having to turn off ‘modern family’ till he did. The blackmail had put you both in his bad book.

Honestly, thank the lord Harry was here too. You’d woken him up at seven, begging for help and since then, you’d tagged teamed. While one was looking after Tom, the other was phoning the director, the doctor, and the crew to inform them of the current situation.

Again, of all people. Why’d it have to be Tom?

Mainly because you knew how mortifying he found this. He didn’t like people fussing over him, never had. He liked to work hard, liked to make people happy - definitely didn’t like to feel a burden. Perhaps what made him feel ten times worse was that he knew he was inconveniencing the whole production team massively.

And yes, as you’d unhelpfully reminded him, it was ‘his fault’.

The lavish hotel room, big bathroom and pretty efficient AC still didn’t manage to mask the pungent in-the-back-of-your-throat smell from the bathroom. At the doctor’s advice, who had been a little concerned at Toms fever, Harry had cranked the AC on high. It had forced you to steal one of Tom’s big hoodies and a pair of joggers- you hadn’t left his room since he first called you, still wearing your tiny pyjama shorts and an old tee.

“Please turn the air con off.” His little voice whined from where he was lying, huddled up under the covers. Perched on the other side of the double bed, but over the covers with your laptop on his lap, you could actually feel him shivering with the chills. It felt like you were torturing the poor boy.

“T you know I can’t. It’ll make your fever worse.” The way he looked up at you, like a little Labrador that you were refusing to pet, actually pained your heart.

Okay, so yes it was his fault, but you weren’t mad, you just felt so awful for him.

“Please I’ll- I’ll pay you more.” His voice was hoarse; though he denied a sore throat, it sounded like the constant sickness was burning his windpipe.

“Tommm” you pouted, sticking your bottom lip out “I don’t want your money, want you to get better.”

Apparently giving up, brown eyes shot you the filthiest look in disappointment, rolling to face away from you. You thought he was giving you the silent treatment in a huff, but instead, he was praying on the weaker one.

“Harry, I’ll buy you that set of golf clubs-“

“NO!” You had to interrupt before Harry would say yes - because from the way his younger brother shot up from the arm chair, he was about to. Scowling eyes slowly focused back on you in annoyance, making you huff - shutting the laptop and kneeling on the bed to face him. After pressing the back of your palm to his forehead, which was scorching hot, you sighed. “I know you feel shitty and I’m so so sorry but I’m trying to make you better. So shut up, drink this and go to sleep!”

Like a child scorned, you received another death glare however, then he complied, taking a sip of the water you offered before lying back - huddling even tighter.

And it had been relatively peaceful for a few hours; Tom seemed to be getting some sleep - even if he was tossing and turning. Eventually, a prescription that the doctor had requested worked its way through the system, Harry getting a text to say he could go pick it up. The nearest pharmacy was probably a 30 minute drive from the hotel, so he left as soon as.

This left you alone with Tom, where the situation only descended into more chaos.

Almost as soon as Harry had left, Tom had stirred with a grunt. All it took was one look at his face for you to know. Both of you leapt up and flew into the toilet, Tom once again getting very familiar with the Moroccan toilet bowl.

This time though, when he had leant backwards, he’d sort of lost control and flopped most the way - you catching him before he could hit his head on the tiled floor.

“Woah, easy there!” It wasn’t like he’d passed out, but the look in his eye as he slumped into your lap… he wasn’t all there either. “Hey Tom… you with me? Tom?”

Lazily he blinked up at you, not really replying except for groans of half-formed words.

Deciding this had all got a bit direr, you almost sprinted back into the room, grabbing your phone and returning. He was still on the floor, his thumb and first finger pressing into each eye - groaning again.

“Hey Tom? I’m gonna call the doctor you need anything?” He whined in response, stopping only when you stroked his sweaty hair back, most of your attention on dialling the correct number.

The solution he’d given wasn’t pretty: Tom’s fever was too high hence why he was all woozy and groany. Until the doctor could get over with the stronger medications, you needed to lower his temperature in other ways or take him to hospital. He’d absolutely hate hospital, but the other choice? Boy, was he not going to like it either.

Ignoring Tom’s croaked question of what you were doing, you busied yourself switching on the bath taps. You let the water run until it was the right (very mild) temperate, then turned back to Tom, who’d managed to work himself up to sit against the sink unit.

“The doctor says you need it.” His brain was foggy, his mind was slow but your tone told him enough to know something was wrong with the bath. “Just take your clothes off and then I’ll help you-“

“Absolutely fucking not.” Good. He was still with it enough to argue.

“I am just as uncomfortable as you are Tom, but we both know you can’t stand up without fainting, so you are going to need my help.”

“Y/n!”

“Keep your boxers on and it’s just like a fitting! I’ve seen you have those before!”

It was clear as day just how emasculated he felt, especially because he knew you were right. Sitting up at this current moment was a push; there was no way he was getting in the bath without some help. Defeatedly he nodded, but gave you a piercing look to turn around before he started wiggling himself out of the flannel pyjama trousers and light cotton t-shirt. Most confusingly, he still felt freezing cold, yet he had long since learned not to argue with you - especially when your justification came from the advice of a doctor.

Your cue to turn around came in the form of an extra angry-sounding grunt- the look you got when you did wasn’t much better either. It was a weird contrast, though, having someone who physically appeared so indestructible (a superhero for crying out loud); to have been absolutely beaten to a pulp by a few mouth fulls of weird meat. You had seen his bare torso before, although it still wasn’t something easy to get used to - making you clench your teeth together just slightly. A very welcome view.

Perhaps you looked just a little too long at the man who was technically your boss, hunched angrily on the floor in nothing but his calvins - another grunt shaking you out of it. By now, the bath was almost full and you hurried to shut off the water, feeling your cheeks heat up as you cursed silently to yourself.

“Okay come on, gimme your arm.” Begrudgingly Tom followed your request, slinging his arm heavily over your shoulder as you crouched beside him. As strong as he looked, you knew right now he felt powerlessly weak - all that muscle was just going to be almost dead weight.

Now it was your turn to grunt and groan as you pulled Tom up to stand, him focusing on blinking away the headrush he got.

“Come on T work with me here.” Getting him to the side of the bath wasn’t too difficult, the issue came when he stepped with one foot into the bath and yelped, instantly withdrawing as if it was a literal ice bath.

The sudden movement had you both losing balance, ending with Tom sitting on the edge of the bath and you leaning over him, in between his legs, and slapping your hand on the wall opposite purely so you both didn’t end up in the bath.

“Tom!”

“It’s like ice water!”

“Its lukewarm like the doctor said!”

“It is not its from the fucking arctic!”

“Oh for god sake!” Exasperated, you paced up and down the bathroom shaking your head at his ridiculousness. This was ALL. HIS. FAULT.

You came back to him with an ultimatum.

“It’s this or the doctor said I had to drag your ass to hospital.”

“Nooooooo.” The 25 year old seemed to convert into a whiny three year old again.

“Those are the two options. So will you PLEASE quit complaining and get in the bath.”

Keeping up the toddler persona, Tom huffed but reluctantly nodded in agreement - you had come up trumps. It didn’t stop him yelping when you helped to lower him in. His breath was shaky, as a response to the ‘cold’, but he was firming it. At least when you felt his forehead after a couple of minutes, it certainly seemed as though the fever was starting to ease off .

“You can go if you want.” His voice was murmured and as you looked up at him, he did his very best to avoid your gaze.

“Not a chance, if you drown on my watch, Nikki will never forgive me.” At the very least he seemed to appreciate your joke, scoffing a little with a small nod. “If you don’t want me here I get it. As soon as Harry’s back, I’ll swap with him.”

“No! It’s not that its… I’m just an ass when I’m ill.”

“A self aware ass, though.” Again he chuckled a little, as you folded your arms on the edge of the porcelain tub, resting your head lying to one side. “You had me pretty scared there for a moment, you know?”

He nodded a little, creating a wave of ripples in the water which you watched to avoid his gaze - which you knew was tracing all your features inquisitively.

“Hey it’s in the job description, always a bit dramatic... I’m sorry though I should never of called you- don’t know why I didn’t just get Harry.” In response you tutted, taking a moment to lean up and push his sweaty curls back a bit.

Just because you could, it was allowed in this moment.

“’m glad you did.”

“Yeh me too” He sighed, eyes fluttering shut in the easy silence of the bathroom. You kept a vigilant eye on him for the next 20 minutes, checking the temperature of his forehead using the back of your hand, whilst he seemed to finally get a bit of proper restbite, appearing like the worst had passed. You had no idea what was taking Harry so long; in fact it was the doctor that arrived first- who you ran to let in (not wanting to leave Tom asleep in the bath one bit).

Whilst the doctor did all his checks, taking his temperature properly this time, satisfied that it was much more manageable. He still wanted to set him up with some oral rehydration rescue packs to get his hydration status a bit better and give some anti-sickness tablets and antipyretics.

Having actually been getting some rest before all the prodding and poking, Tom was back to being a grumbling dick - now not wanting to leave the bath (the irony was real - making you roll your eyes). Once again, he appeared embarrassed to have you see him like this, so you left the doctor to help him get out and changed- instead going down to reception to get a fresh set of sheets, as he’d done a pretty impressive job of sweating through the old ones.

Even if tired and grumpy, when Tom exited the bathroom, he looked much better - he was walking himself without the doctor’s help. Which honestly was such a relief because when he had passed out on you, you genuinely were terrified. Thankfully the doctor stayed for the next 20 or so minutes, which was just when Harry returned with a bag of medications - which were now wholly redundant, given the doctor had already supplied everything.

“What happened?” Harry asked you in a hushed voice, whilst Tom was distracted with getting his medications. Recounting the story of Tom pretty much passing out, Harry grimaced for you, then launching over to give you a tight hug.

“Are you okay?” That was a novel idea, you hadn’t really thought about yourself at all - but honestly, you were a bit shaken, having been running on adrenalin for most of the night.

“I-uhm… yeh I think so… just-just was a bit scared, I guess? Felt bad too because he didn’t want me there but-“

“I can promise you Y/n, he did want you there. Just probably embarrassed he wasn’t all manly and that…” With a nod, you smiled softly at the frizzy-haired boy.

Whilst working with Tom, it also meant getting pretty close to his younger brother. The two Hollands were almost attached at the hip, which you were very much okay with.

It was weird though... your relationships were completely different. Harry was just your brother, through and through. He wound you up like a sibling but also knew you as if he had your whole life. With Tom… it wasn’t that. Arguably, you were closer to Tom, but on a different level. It was more exciting, more nerve-wracking and heartwarming all at the same time. Honestly, you couldn’t get your head around it properly.

“Hey, you’re probably shattered. Why don’t you go back to your room and get some sleep? I got it in here.” You knew Hary was trying to offer something nice, and now all the excitement had worn off, you were unbelievably shattered. But you didn’t like the idea of not being there, as a just in case.

“Uhm, I think I might just stay, you know?” And he did, with a deliberate, knowing smile, he nodded.

He knew you were worried. He knew Tom had really really scared you. He also knew how much you cared about his brother.

Just like how Harry knew Tom wanted you there, even if he felt embarrassed. Well, anyone would- when you are passing out half-naked in front of the one person that really matters.

It was just at this point that the doctor was done, giving Harry instructions about the rest of the day, when you made a beeline for the bed. Tom was propped up against the headboard, still with a pale sullen look and tired eyes, but a bit less clammy and more human. He cracked a smile as you crawled up onto the other side of the bed, kneeling next to him.

“How’re you doin’?”

“All drugged up, just feel fucking exhausted.” Instinctively you reached up to feel his forehead, really appreciating the fact it felt almost normal.

“Join the club mate, I had a 5am wake up call too.” You almost whispered, intending to make Tom laugh, but instead only getting a pout.

“I am sorry, a-are you going to go back to your room?”

“Nah” Tom’s eyes didn’t light up, except the fact that they very much did. “Can’t trust you not to get into trouble while I’m gone Holland.”

“Thanks.” He laughed weakly before shimmying down on the bed, so he was much more comfortable. “And thankyou, I-I’m sorry I’m a dickhead and made your life-“

“Shut up Tom!” Laughing, you lightly slapped his arm, also leaning down on the bed, so you were lying facing him. “You’re all feverish; go to sleep before you say something stupid.”

There was a long pause, Tom just gazing deep into your eyes, because he was pretty sure what he was thinking was nothing to do with the dodgy unidentified meat he’d had the evening before.

“What... like asking you out?”

…..

“Maybe that wouldn’t be so stupid.”

~~~~im really not sure how I feel about this one, let me know what you thought ;) ~~~~

tagging: @lovehollandy12 @hallecarey1 @crossyourpeter@hollandfanficlove

#tomholland #tom holland fluff #tom holland angst #tom holland x y/n #hurt comfort #tom holland x reader #tom holland imagine #harry holland

[thunderheadfred]

❄️Todoroki HC's🔥

Aged-up pro hero Shouto. NSFW under the cut. Minors do not interact.

- - -

General

Might as well be tied with Bakugou for the #1 pro hero spot; they seem to pass the crown back and forth every other year. Everyone knows about their intense frenemies uber-rivalry. Well. Everyone but Shouto.

He's asked to speak at a lot of charity events. If he has time to prepare (and hire a speech writer) he is capable of stirring crowds to standing ovations. But if caught unawares... he gets cornered into hilarious on-the-spot interviews. He's been memed. Mercilessly.

He's an OP character, but unfortunately he rolled -500 in fashion sense. Eventually he wises up and hires a stylist. When he finally cuts his hair a slightly different and even more flattering way, it's a national event. People faint in the street.

Does god-awful sleight-of-hand magic tricks when he meets young fans, even though nobody asked him to. The second-hand embarrassment is palpable. But he keeps doing it. God, why does he keep doing it?

Has hovering arm syndrome in every fan photo.

Super into pop music. Not a fan of any particular group or artist, couldn't tell you the name of a single song. But every time he turns up the volume on the radio it's like... really? THIS? Probably pumps that shit through his hero agency to keep up morale. Has no idea what you mean when you tell him his music taste doesn't match his personality.

Similarly, he enjoys brainless romantic comedies and old silent movies. Doesn't laugh at jokes but loses it over physical comedy. Thinks Buster Keaton and Harold Lloyd are the funniest people who ever walked the earth.

He's long and limber. Runs practically a hundred miles every day just to "relax." Doesn't even get sweaty doing it. A filthy yoga addict. He'll probably live to be 200 years old.

He can regulate his body temperature for quirk use but in everyday life he's always half a degree outside the Goldilocks zone. It drives him quietly insane; he has an epic love-hate relationship with his thermostat.

Has a therapy animal pet. Doesn't matter if it's a dog or a cat or a bird or an iguana or a teeny tiny rodent. It's the best-behaved animal in the country and speaks more languages than you. It has its own room and an instagram account with millions of followers.

Lives in a traditional Japanese estate that doubles as a national treasure. Probably has government-appointed snipers at the gate, and he's just like, "don't worry about it." You are afraid to touch anything. Fuck, don't even look at anything, just to be safe.

Has an outstanding personal chef who only gets to cook five things unless (thank fuck!!) company comes over. Impossibly picky eater. He rotates between a few "safe" foods and suspiciously side-eyes everything else. If you cook something unfamiliar for him it will be the most awkward meal of your life, because he'd never tell you he doesn't like it. But oh lord, just look at his face.

This clashes directly with his love of traveling. Frequently uses his hero earnings to visit exotic foreign locales over long weekends... but rarely tries the food.

- - -

Dating

A grey-ace demisexual disaster. You could count the number of people he's been attracted to on one hand. He falls madly in love every time and always gets his heart smashed to pieces when his crush can't magically intuit the meaning of his frigid longing glances and generically courteous romantic gestures.

Which is stupid, because he gets propositioned constantly. He can't walk out the door without being flirted with. People keep slipping him their phone numbers and he always directs them to his agency like a moron. It's a good thing he will never understand how attractive he is because that's the only thing keeping him from total world domination.

Conventional attractiveness does not compute. Shouto doesn't have a type, doesn't care that he's an eleven whilst you are merely mortal. He will fall for your personality above all else.

Probably falls head over heels because your schedules overlap in a completely ordinary way and he witnesses you doing something endearing or brave or most likely: utterly mundane.

Pick a favorite, because you're his favorite coworker, or his favorite barista, or his favorite random bystander in line at the grocery store. You made him smile once; then he spent the next three months daydreaming about your future together before you accidentally stomped on his foot, initiating your first real conversation.

He's big on healthy communication. HUGE. He goes to therapy and it shows. Will talk through literally everything to the point of delirium. Sometimes his dedication to resolving every issue right away can get overwhelming; sometimes you just need some frickin time alone. But it pays off, because the two of you have practically never have a "real fight." There's just no way for bad vibes to fester.

STILL, his family wasn't exactly... erm... verbally or emotionally supportive, shall we say. For that reason, he might not give you all the compliments you deserve, because it simply doesn't occur to him to do so. He assumes you know how he feels. If you're self-conscious or insecure in the relationship, it might take him a while to notice. But when he figures it out (or even better, when you tell him directly) he will make it up to you with enthusiasm.

Will take you on lavish dates. Spoils you rotten without actually intending to. He's clueless about money. If you wanted a sugar daddy, you just hit the fucking jackpot. But if the word valet makes you uncomfortable, perhaps suggest some romantic picnics instead. He can still go all out with the food and five-star location without making you see cartoon dollar signs.

Chronic Insomniac. Stays up too late watching YouTube every night. His viewing history is an incomprehensible blur of k-pop music videos, serial killer icebergs, and super girly crafty ASMR channels. When he's watching a video, he is unreachable. Please call back later and try again.

He's disgustingly cute when he sleeps. Doesn't snore, but drools. Sometimes the drool freezes and leaves frost trails on his face in the morning. Still sleeps with the giant stuffed cat pillow that his mother gave him when he was like, zero. He'll inadvertently suffocate you with it, and you will welcome death with open arms because awwwwww!!!!!

The first time he tells you he loves you will be after your traditional Japanese shinto wedding. You won't hear it again until you start a family. Honestly, it's a good thing he doesn't say it often and is always holding you when it happens. It's a knee-buckler.

- - -

Icy-Hot

I don't even need to say it. Shouto is as old-fashioned as they come. You will never open another door or pull out another chair for yourself as long as you live. He will ask before he holds your hand. He will ask before he kisses you. He will stop and check in if you so much as breathe funny during sex.

If you don't orgasm at exactly the same time while staring into one another's eyes, he'll consider himself a failed lover. God forbid you want him to pound you into the futon... cause you are going to have to present that scenario to him in writing first.

Physical intimacy rarely leads to sex. He loves cuddling, craves physical affection. He'll sprawl all over you and turn into goo while you hold him close. He's an amazing, astounding, phenomenally good kisser. And that's... nice and all... but sometimes you have to grab his face and say, "Shouto, I'm horny," before he's like so that's why you're currently dry-humping me?

Even if he isn't technically a virgin the first time (or the millionth time) you sleep together, you won't know the difference. He's a blushing violet. Every. Fucking. Time. This doesn't mean he's a bad lay, oh no. But there's always ten minutes of confused bumbling before he hits his stride and remembers oh yeah, I DO know how to fuck good.

Absolutely silent during sex. Focused. Intense. Sometimes you have to push him a little to make any kind of noise at all, just so you know you're pleasing him (oh don't worry, you are).

His cock is Just Right. Not to big or too small. Perfectly proportioned and symmetrical. Somehow pretty. Like a fucking factory prototype. It truly is not fair.

Gets handsy and restless at night, even if you both have work the next day. Seems to crave sex at three in the morning. You've given him more than one exhausted handjob.

Gets offended if you don't cum. Will go down on you for hours. Of course he uses his quirk to tease you. He doesn't typically use it during actual intercourse, but he's all about foreplay, and he'll use every tool in his arsenal.

His sex drive is completely fucking unpredictable. Sometimes he's all over you, other times he's an icy slab. His line of work leaves him busy and stressed on a near-constant basis, so you can't entirely blame his personality for this one. Just give him some time and help him take care of his basic needs. He'll come back around soon enough.

#todoroki shouto #todoroki x you #todoroki x reader #todoroki x y/n #gender neutral reader #todoroki headcanons #bnha headcanons #mha headcanons #smut #fred writes #bnha #mha

[estrxlar]

The Ghost Of You

22 - Plans For Later

This chapters songs:

Pretty When I Cry; Lana Del Rey

Your Teeth In My Neck; Kali Uchis

4EVER; Clairo

- E. T. perspective

I can only explain this feeling with one word, torture. Watching as he smiles down at her, holds her hand, grabs her waist all the ways I wish he did to me. Why does this always happen to me? Why is it every time I develop feelings for someone, things never go my way?

Y/n isn't easy to hate. No matter how long I stalk her social media page and find new things to ask her about, she always has an excuse, and it's never sinister enough to make Koshi hate her too.

But Koshi will never hate Y/n, and neither will I.

It's not her fault that the dummy fell in love with her. Her scent, her voice, her skin— everything about the girl is so much better than any cell in my body.

I remember the first time I met him. I was looking for a sport to get used to and found that volleyball was the most entertaining and friendly. There were limited players and not very good ones. Back then, Koshi was considered one of the best players, but his title was taken from Kageyama. I knew the instant he looked at me that I wanted him to be mine.

From time to time, Koshi would give me eyes under his lashes when we spoke, brush his hands against my back when he wanted, and do so many other things that made my heart throb. I thought that he felt the things I felt as well. That was until the week before I left Japan.

It was just the two of us in the supply closet, cleaning up after another day of practice. The light timer had just gone off and the both of us ran to reset it, making our bodies collide with each other. Unintentionally, he pressed me against the wall with both hands, breathing over my shoulder.

I was running out of time back then. I only had a week to kiss him, to talk to him, to love him. All different scenarios ran through my mind as I turned around and stared deep into what I assumed were his eyes. I had my chance to kiss him. So, I did. And he didn't resist.

He let me touch his pale cheeks with my fingers and slip my tongue through his lips. He let me press myself against his chest and whimper while I fought his tongue with mine. He even helped himself to press my hip back against the wall. My skin ran cold, wishing I could feel what was under the shirt he wore.

Did Koshi want to feel me too?

He didn't. I knew he didn't, and it was painful. I knew that no matter how much I kissed and held him, he wouldn't ever return my feelings. Koshi only kissed me for the hell of it. He was empty, as always. What made him this way? Why wasn't I ever enough to fulfill the man I love?

I shoved him away and covered my blushing face that now had tears running down it. "Koshi!" I shouted out. "Why do you do this to me?! You give me so many mixed signals even though you know you'll never love me back! Why are you torturing me this way?!"

Koshi attempted to calm me down with many gestures of hand waves and shushed, but I wailed into the darkness, crying out his name over and over again. My heart felt as if it sunk to my feet. It wasn't his fault that I fell in love with him, but blaming someone for my issues felt like the only solution at the moment.

"Why not me?! Why do you—why do you like so many girls but me? I'm here, Koshi! You know I'm in love with you yet you haven't given me any sign or hint! Is this all you wanted from me?! Was I just another girl for you to concur?"

He grabbed my shoulder and caught my attention in an instant, yelling back at me. "Eclair, I'd never do that to you! You're worth much more than someone who can't last a day in a relationship. Especially...especially someone who doesn't love you back."

It hurt so much to hear him say those words. Now that he truly does love another girl, I don't think I can handle hearing them again. Why did my relationships never work out? All I've ever wanted was to feel loved by someone. My parents don't make much of an effort. What is so good about Y/n and not I? Why couldn't he have changed his ways for me? Am I that bad?

At this point, I have no idea what to do other than stare at the bunk above mine, hearing the steady breathing coming from Y/n as she sleeps. He loves her, and not me; that was the most painful thing that I have ever realized.

-

- Y. L. Perspective

When I went to sleep, I didn't think I would wake up sweaty under the comfortable, feeling as if I had a severe fever.  I open my eyes and stare widely at the white ceiling above me, wondering if Kiyoko and Eclair were burning up as well.

'I hope I don't have to do much activity today.' I think to myself as I sit up in the top bunk. My legs dangle off of the wooden barrier that contains me from falling out.

"Hey! Eclair is taking a quick shower. Ready to cook breakfast?" Kiyoko says, grabbing onto the bedboard. She wore a lilac shirt with blue sweatpants; something comfortable to start the day.

'Guessing she didn't go through hell and back last night?' I rub my eye, nodding to the girl as she slips her phone into her back pocket. "Hey, is it just me, or was it super hot last night?" I ask.

Before leaving the room, she gives me a side-eye. "Uhm...no. But I know why you were." Her voice is filled with curiosity, telling me something wasn't right. "Last night, you seemed to have a dream of some sort. Nightmare or something more..?"

The smirk on her face is diminishing. Did I have a strange dream last night? I couldn't seem to remember. If so, I hoped I wasn't tossing and turning like a maniac.

Embarrassed, I slap my face gently, hiding my red face. "Shimizu!" I whine to her. I, unfortunately, forgot any memory of my dream last night the second I opened my eyes. There was no knowing what made me have hot flashes. "I'll meet you in the kitchen. Give me a minute to freshen up," I tell her, climbing down from the top bunk.

-

I could hear a few of the boy's voices as I roasted the vegetables on the stove, letting a smile creep up onto my face. If they were awake, that meant Koshi was getting ready as well.

I knew that Eclair's being here stopped us from being as affectionate as we would like to be, but seeing each other was all we needed to get through the day.

"Almost done, Y/n?" Kiyoko asks me from the counter as she plates the meat and rice we cooked. I nod, turning off the stove and pouring the vegetables into a bowl. The both of us pick up a few plates to take to the mess hall. Takeda was right behind us as we walked there with utensils and plates.

Kiyoko kicks the door open, revealing two tables full of hungry boys. We set down the food onto a counter for them to begin serving themselves. After carefully placing my bowl of vegetables, I turn around to glance for Sugawara.

Of course, he was already behind me. "Good morning, Y/n and Kiyoko. Thank you for cooking us breakfast," he says as friendly as possible. Though the entire volleyball team except Eclair knew we were a couple, Koshi didn't want to make a scene out of our relationship.

Shimizu rolls her eyes playfully, wafting her hand in the air. "You guys can play 'dating'. Eclairs showering so she won't be down here until another twenty minutes." Leaving the two of us in front of the serving table.

He runs his neck, smiling at me. "How'd you sleep?" Koshi asks me, lowering his voice to where only I can make it out under the noisy volleyball club. One step closer results in his body softly pressed against mine and his hand resting neatly on my shoulder, his eyes staring back into mine. At that very moment, discovering why I'd woken up so sweaty this morning wasn't any struggle.

I become red in an instant, flustered at visions of Koshi being intimate with me in my room. His facial features lit by moonlight, his lips gentle tugging on mine, his scent showering my body. Wonders about my first time would enter my mind once in a while, but I've never had such a vivid image of what it would be like. It wasn't as if I could continue fantasizing about it in the breakfast line.

"Y/n...are you good?" Koshi squeezes my shoulder gently, waking me from a daze. Blinking rapidly, I look away from him in shame of my perverted thoughts and nod.

"Yeah! I slept great. What about you?" A bright smile is enough to clear up any worry that he had brought upon himself. He grins back, sliding his hand from my shoulder to my wrist, fidgeting with my fingers as he spoke.

"Good, good. Although, sharing a room with eleven boys isn't very peaceful. I bet Kiyoko and Eclair let you get some rest," he says, giving us both plates to begin plating our food. I grab a few fresh vegetables and a scoop of rice, then pour myself and Koshi and cup of green tea.

He nods his head to the left, motioning for me to follow him to an empty table where we could discuss how our night went further. We sat down our plates and sat across from each other, saying our thanks.

"So! Got any ideas about what we might be doing today?" I ask him as I began eating my food.

He scoffs lightly. "Well, Daichi told me we are gonna be running for the entire morning. Then, I assume we'll be extending our skills in the gym for a while. If we have any free time, wanna sneak off somewhere and head into the small town?" He looks up at me before taking a bite of steak.

Running and training don't seem all bad on behalf of Kiyoko and me. All that meant was that we would be handing out water and towels for them; regular manager things. "Yeah! Do you think we'll get in trouble if we do?" I whisper, leaning closer to him.

For a second, he stares at me intensely, then looks to his left and right. "No, not if we don't tell anybody."

He bites his bottom lip slightly and gulps his tea. Ever before he could notice I was staring, I look down at my plate and continue eating.

It wasn't the risk of getting in trouble that scared me, but what might happen when I go out with Koshi. Perhaps being alone with him after having a dream about fucking wasn't the brightest idea. Although, I wanted so badly to spend time with him without having to refrain from any couple-like behavior.

With that in mind, I say yes to his request. "Sure thing. Got any ideas about where to go? Or more importantly, any money?" I jokingly ask, making him chuckle at me. He shakes his head gently, eying me.

"Yeah, I got money. If it's okay with you, we can hop on a few buses and wander the city." I grew eager to do exactly that. During the summer when Grimlace was invited to open for concerts, we would blow our money on cheap motels and bus bills, but always made the best memories while doing so.

Of course, I'd want to go with Koshi. And so, I smile brightly, resting my head on my hand, and looking at him while he happily ate his food. "Yeah, I'd like that." Now, our schedule didn't seem so bad. We'd be able to spend time with each other once it was clear of volleyball training.

-

Hey hey hey my bbs. Tysm for reading, I tried to make this chapter fulfilling enough to build excitement for the next one!! As always, take care of yourself. Love you and pls vote!

(Ps. I love the new comments)

- estrxlar

[puppy-prose]

Hey there! I saw that you were taking requests and I thought I'd drop you a line. I'm obsessed with Geralt/Jaskier right now, so anything that you write would be amazing. Two prompts that I have in mind are 1) College!AU where Jaskier and Geralt are sharing a room in student accommodation. Jaskier has the hots for Geralt (obvs) and thinks he's being sneaky having a wank at night but Geralt totally knows ;) also 2) Geralt as a werewolf. I dig your kinks list, so if either of those take your fancy

I'd love to read what you come up with. The smuttier, the better imo! warnings // mild rape fantasy, spit as lube, light/unintentional voyeurism

It wasn’t fair, Jaskier decided, that somehow, he’d ended up with one of the sexiest men in the whole college as his dormmate. 

Geralt had everything. The muscles, the brains, the kindness. He was mysterious and gruff, but welcoming and warm once one got to know him. He got straight A’s, looked like he belonged to a motor gang, and was an incredibly considerate roommate--a fact that Jaskier had to not only get used to, but also absorb some himself, if only to show Geralt that he was worth sticking around with and not ask for a transfer. 

After all, being in the same dorm meant that he got to see Geralt in many stages. He got to see him sweaty and tired after coming back from the gym; he got to see him damp from the shower, his unfairly gorgeous white hair still dripping down the lines of his neck despite Geralt’s attempts at getting them decently dry. He got to see Geralt wolf down food when he missed a meal for some reason or another--got to watch him as he did the dishes every time he cooked like some god of roommate-ing or something--got to be there when Geralt was sleepy and yawning, his unfairly sharp canine teeth on display, his warm eyes soft, his entire body screaming vulnerability. Hell, sometimes Jaskier even got to touch, combing out his hair when Geralt had had enough of it, patching him up when he inevitably got in another fight trying to protect someone or another. 

So, yeah. Jaskier had maybe-kind-of-really fallen head over heels for Geralt. So what? No big deal. He’d had crushes before; he’d pined and whined and sought out love where it wasn’t reciprocated. But gods. He’d never had to spend night after night, sleeping in the same room as that crush, their beds on opposite walls, so fucking close. He’d never had to go through the inevitable stage of jacking off to that crush nearly every night knowing that that person was right there and, in Geralt’s case, had really kind of freaky super-hearing. 

Didn’t stop him from doing it anyway, though.

Turned on his side, facing the wall away from Geralt, Jaskier let his hands slide slowly under his blankets. It was easy to get his pajama pants down, pushing them to his knees, his cock already half-hard just from the sight he’d been treated to just before they’d turned the lights out--Geralt, grunting and huffing as he stretched out his shoulders and back from a long workout session, shirtless, his muscles rippling, tensing, loosening… Jaskier shoved his bottom lip between his teeth as he conjured the memory up with ease, eyes fluttering shut as he imagined it. 

Those muscles would look so good above him. Geralt, flexing and strong, bearing him down into the mattress. Gods, Geralt could take whatever he wanted, he realized, and the thought made his cock twitch in his hand, plumping up more. So it was going to be one of those fantasies tonight, he supposed.

Sliding his hand back up, he reached below his pillow. Thankfully, Geralt was also considerate enough to generally leave Jaskier’s things alone, unless they were directly in his way. Which meant he had no idea about the bottle of lube that practically lived somewhere in his bed at all times, in case he brought someone home--or in case something like this happened. He pulled it out and uncorked it, trying to muffle the pop of the cap as quietly as he could in his side, before dribbling some onto his palm. Again, he used his body to muffle the noise as he closed the lid and left it beside him, hand returning to his cock once again. 

Yeah, he thought. Geralt was so fucking strong. It wouldn’t take much at all for him to pin Jaskier down. He could drag an arm behind his back, hold it there, keep him pressed into the bed. His fingers, perhaps wet by his own spit, Geralt having shoved them into his mouth to keep him quiet, keep him from raising any alarm, would slide between his legs, push against his hole. It’d be humiliating, his own roommate opening him up, none too gentle about it, spreading him--and gods, Jaskier knows he’d be moaning by then, hope of fleeing gone, desire to flee gone. Maybe Geralt would make fun of him for it, too.

Choking down a whine, Jaskier shifted in the bed. He turned onto his back, spreading his legs open as much as he could, trousers kicked down to his ankles. His hand fell from his cock, down past it, sliding between the cheeks of his own ass until he could press one, then two slick fingers inside. It burned a little; he really should have added more lube. But that slight pain was perfect for the way his thoughts were going. 

Keeping his eyes closed, he let his mind return. Imagining a weight on his chest, pretending the bed at his back was Geralt bearing down on him and the heavy blankets atop him was the bed he was being shoved into--it was very hard to open himself on his stomach while remaining lying down to avoid Geralt’s detection, he’d found--he pushed his free hand under his body, pinning it behind his back. It wasn’t perfect, but it was the best he could do.

“Fucking slut,” he imagined Geralt would say, scissoring inside of him, his own fingers mimicking the fantasy. “Can’t wait for me to take you, can you? You’re already wet for me, like a bitch in heat.”  

Geralt, surely, was too nice to actually say any of that. Jaskier wanted, though. He wanted so fucking badly. That gravelly voice, the uncaring drawl he’d have, just like all the times he’d warned off assholes on their nights out at pubs or wherever, just before punches would start flying. Only with him, Geralt would push in a third finger, make him take the intrusion whether he was ready or not, and--

“G-Ger…”

Jaskier twisted his hand free from behind his back, shoving it flat against his own mouth. Fuck. He shook from the strain, his cock brushing against the blankets above him, and he wanted nothing more than to rock up into them--but he stayed still, very very still, listening as Geralt gave a soft sigh from the other side of the room, readjusted himself, and settled back down. 

He controlled his breathing as best he could for a few more minutes, wanting to make sure. If Geralt found out about this… Jaskier wouldn’t be surprised if he was tossed out on his ass, perhaps with a report to the RA, or even the Dean of the school. No, he had to be very, very careful about this. Even if he didn’t want to be.

But nothing happened during those minutes. So carefully, cautiously, Jaskier started to move his fingers again. He’d gotten up to three, just like his fantasy, before having to stop. The minutes had taken some of the burn away, though, and he had to stretch them out, fingers pulling apart to get it back, his eyes rolling up into his head at the sheer pleasure that sparked through him. It felt so fucking good, and while they weren’t Geralt’s fingers, it didn’t take away the heat that coursed through him, heady and strong. 

He kept them stretched, kept them wide apart as he imagined Geralt pulling his own fingers back out. Maybe Geralt would finally use the lube on his cock--or maybe, maybe, he'd make Jaskier choke on it instead, get it wet and slick from his own spit. And gods, that was a thought, and before he knew it, he had his own fingers in his mouth, hole fluttering around the new emptiness, his breathing hard, nearly panting around the digits pressing wide and deep into his mouth. It was a messy business; thank goodness tomorrow was his laundry day. But it was too good to stop, and he was shivering with want, hips giving tiny twitches against the blankets when he finally withdrew his fingers. 

“See?” Geralt would say. “Such a cockslut. Getting off on sucking my dick. Bet you could come like that, couldn’t you? I could force my cock down into your throat, make you gag on it, and you’d take it just as well as if I were fucking you.”  

Another little whimper escaped him, but Jaskier was, decidedly, a little too far gone to care. He pushed his fingers back inside of himself, not bothering to take it slow, his back arching a few degrees off the bed in reaction. He had to shove his hand over his mouth again to keep his sounds in, to keep from begging and keening like he wanted to, caught up in the fantasy, in the thought of Geralt fucking into him, making him take every inch, making him raw and aching and sore, filling him to the fucking brim--

There was a whisper of sound, a brush of air, just enough to get Jaskier’s attention, and when he opened his eyes-- oh fuck.  

A dark face stood over him, silver strands of hair framing him. Geralt. Geralt. Oh, fucking shit.  

Jaskier pulled his fingers out of himself, the obscenely wet sound of it suddenly loud in the silent dorm, the blankets on him too hot, his mind blanking for something to say. “Ger--Geralt!” he squeaked, dropping his hand from his mouth, his pupils still blown wide, his cock still hard and full beneath the very meager protection of the sheets. “This--this isn’t--it’s not what it, uh, what it looks like, I’m just--”

“Having a wank with my name in your mouth?” Geralt rumbled back at him, his brow raised. Jaskier withered, his lips pressing together. He’d really cocked this one up, hadn’t he? Shit. How was he going to make this up? Would he even be given the chance to try to fix it?

“I’m--look I’m sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking, let me just--”

A hand fitted over his mouth--but this time, it wasn’t Jaskier’s own. No, it was Geralt’s, his callouses rough on his soft lips, shutting him up. He swallowed hard, nearly audible, not sure what Geralt was going to do. 

“You really should be more quiet,” Geralt told him. Then, to Jaskier’s surprise, the hand turned, and-- fuck. Geralt pushed two fingers against his lips, making them part, pressing in and sliding the pads of the digits against his tongue, pushing it down. “Every night, Jaskier. Every night for the past week. So stupidly loud. You really thought I wouldn’t notice?” He bent down, then, breaking the distance between them. Jaskier whimpered, not trying to close his mouth, nearly cross eyed in an attempt to see Geralt clearly. “You really think I wouldn’t want to fuck you if you asked?”

Oh. Oh.  

Geralt must have seen the realization in his eyes. A smirk pulled up his lips; the next moment, Geralt snagged the blankets from the bed, throwing them unceremoniously to the floor. He pulled his fingers from his mouth, only to wipe them on Jaskier’s cheek, spreading his own spit. Jaskier whined. “Geralt, I--”

“Shush,” the other man said. He got up on the bed with him, pulling Jaskier’s legs around him, letting him dig his heels into the small of his back. Jaskier realized, with a thrill, that Geralt had gotten rid of his own trousers on the way over. His head threw back as their cocks pressed together, Geralt rutting down onto him mercilessly. “You don’t want everyone to hear, do you?” His hands found Jaskier’s wrists; pulling them up, he pinned them above his head with one hand, those incredible muscles flexing, the slats of moonlight through the window throwing each one into sharp relief. Jaskier opened and closed his hands, but didn’t fight back--didn’t want to. 

Geralt’s free hand wrapped around them both. He gave a choked sob, doing his best to bite down on it, keep it in. He was spared, though, by Geralt bending and kissing him. It was a brutal thing. Tongue and teeth and force, Geralt opened him up, licked his way inside his mouth. It was so much--too much--and his lips were swollen and red when Geralt pulled back to instead start sucking on his throat, teeth gnawing bruises to the surface, tongue soothing the sting of them. They were high, too, a few just below his jaw; there was no way he’d be able to hide these marks. Geralt was making it very clear that Jaskier was owned. That Jaskier was his. And fuck, that had the power to turn him into a writhing mess, only keeping from babbling because Geralt had commanded him to be quiet. 

Geralt’s hand moved from their cocks, then. He slid it down to his entrance, pushing two fingers inside—then grunting with surprise before adding a third, resistance appearing only at that point. “Fuck,” he growled, biting down on the crook of Jaskier’s neck and shoulder, making his entire body feel like it was turning to mush. “Thought you’d only gotten to two fingers. But you were really fucking yourself, weren’t you? No wonder you were moaning so loud.” Unwittingly, he mimicked Jaskier from only minutes before; he spread his fingers, forcing them wide open. This time, though, Jaskier couldn’t stop the desperate cry the fell from his lips, hips jerking, tears springing to his eyes from the delicious burn, the wonderful stretch. 

He kept pushing, kept opening Jaskier until he was practically sobbing, his thighs trembling against the sides of Geralt’s hips. Finally, though, he seemed to take mercy on him. 

He withdrew his fingers, instead grabbing Jaskier’s hands and pressing them to either side of his head, holding him down. With Jaskier’s legs around him, it was easy to rock their hips together, his cock sliding obscenely in the crevice of his ass, snagging on the rim of his entrance with each push upwards. “I’m gonna fuck you, Jask,” he growled to the man below him, who simply nodded frantically, eager. “Gonna make you scream.”  

“Please,” Jaskier agreed frantically, nodding, flushed red and unable to hold still, twitching and shivering underneath Geralt. “Please, please, I want you to! Please, fuck me!”

Geralt’s chuckle was low, dark. He nipped Jaskier’s lower lip, carefully lined himself up—and slammed in. 

His promise came true. Jaskier howled, his back arching, his heels dragging Geralt in closer. He made for a beautiful sight, utterly wrecked from just the first thrust, and Geralt was more than happy to make sure he had his fill. He didn’t hold back, either. Jaskier was already stretched. So Geralt set a brutal, punishing pace. 

The slap of their bodies was obscene in the room, Jaskier’s cries of Geralt’s name both embarrassing and a relief to finally be able to say without repercussions. Geralt kept his hands pinned—again, no doubt bruises would be his friend come tomorrow, and Jaskier couldn’t be more excited—as he kept pounding into him, pushing him into the mattress, the bed frame creaking with the force of it all. 

Geralt kissed him again, rough, taking what he wanted. He seemed to speed up; Jaskier could do nothing but take it, delirious with pleasure, the pressure in the low of his hips building and building. 

Then, Geralt bit down on his throat, just below his ear. “Come for me,” he commanded, gravelly and dark and powerful—so much better than how Jaskier had imagined it. And so much more effective. A few thrusts later and Jaskier practically screamed, his body going taut as he came, painting between them white with his release, cock twitching until he was empty. But Geralt—Geralt kept going. 

It dragged pained whimpers from him, the overstimulation too much, too soon. “I’ve got you,” Geralt told him, soothing him, settling him into accepting it. “Fuck, Jask. I’ve got you. Gonna fill you up. Make you take every last drop of my cum.” 

Head thrown back, at Geralt’s mercy, Jaskier could do nothing but let him fuck into him, trembling through every inch. But finally— finally Geralt came. He snarled with it, his teeth snapping into Jaskier’s shoulder, holding him down as he pumped him full of his seed. He rocked into him, slower, shallower, as if trying to push his cum further into Jaskier, only stopping when he was growing soft inside him. 

With care, Geralt pulled out. He shushed the tired whine that fell from Jaskier’s lips, turning him on his side and sidling up behind him. Jaskier floated pleasantly, sated and wrecked, utterly fucked out. Gods, his fantasies had never come close. Double gods— his fantasies might actually become a reality, now. Holy shit.

“Next time,” Geralt said, hooking a leg over top of his, keeping him tucked in close. “Just wake me up when you get horny.”

Oh, Jaskier thought. Hopefully Geralt didn’t mind missing a lot of sleep.

#geraskier fic #my writing // #filled requests // #lemons // #keepcalmandexpectopatronum934

[typinggently]

I know you're not taking prompts any more, but I just want to tell you how much I love them— especially the Frank 'n Billy drabbles. Should you ever be inspired to do a "filth special" for them again, I'd go utterly wild. These two are my absolute problematic favorites and the way you write Bill is smoother than cream and sharper than glass. Hotter than a shot of vodka set on fire. Spot on nailing it. I'm in love!

Honestly I keep coming back to this message? Thank you so much for your kind words, I’m speechless. 💜❤️🧡💛💖 I just?? thank you so, so much! I’m so happy that you enjoy my writing!! 

and yes - they’re the ultimate problematic fave and I love them so, so much!!!😭

(Also...I know this took me super long but I’m always open for prompts or questions of any kind!!! I’m sorry that I gave the impression that I wasn’t!)

But without further ado. Please – enjoy this humble little offering of filth!!!

(I took the liberty and just picked something I wanted to write...)

-

8. convincing the other to try something they’re not interested in and then making them like it 

-

Warning: (mild)BDSM, slightly under-negotiated kink (Frank goes with it all and doesn’t even notice that there’s a conversation to be had, but it’s not exactly good bdsm etiquette on Billy’s part.)

-

Honestly, there are a lot of things those two convince each other of, but let’s go with this:

Blindfolds.

And I have to start this by acknowledging that Frank is a nasty filthy beast, but I’m p sure he doesn’t think all that much? Like, he didn’t sit down and google bdsm etiquette. He just does whatever and is naturally decent enough to make it work. He’s the type to get a little wild, but he’s not very educated about the subject.

I’m saying that because while he’s 100% up for a bit of breathplay here and there, some rough shit, some tackling etc etc, but he doesn’t think about it. So when Billy brings that whole thing up, he’s all “hm I’m not sure, I’m not really into that kinda thing.” (Cut to Billy giving him a very blank look)

It takes a lot of soft purring and pouting until Frank finally agrees that alright, sure, I’ll try it, fine.  (and by “a lot” I mean maybe 10 minutes of it, since Billy is very pretty and very convincing and Frank isn’t all that strong. But don’t judge him for it. 10 minutes of Billy with his hands in his hair, kissing his neck and telling him how good it’ll feel is a lot to handle).

Now. Frank on his back on the bed, shirtless with his wrists crossed over his head, blindfolded very effectively and very luxuriously with a silk sleep mask. Truthfully, it’s probably Agent Provocateur simply because Billy’s a creature of luxurious pleasures and the pretty pink box? The silk he gets to tie behind Frank’s head? …nice.

What we have to take in account, of course, is that Billy is a very smart man and he uses his intelligence for evil. Which is to say that agreeing to try new things with Billy means you agree to at least 2 things more than you thought you were agreeing to, because you don’t read the fine print.

In this case, Frank wasn’t aware that agreeing to blindfolds would mean agreeing not only to light bdsm but also to edging.

Billy didn’t tie up his wrists, of course. He’s too smart for that. He told him that no problem, don’t worry, just keep your hands over your head, yeah?

Frank (idiot supreme) was alright with that, because the thought of getting tied up isn’t all that nice but he can keep his hands up, no problem. Except. You know. He didn’t exactly expect how hard it’d be to keep his hands down when Billy’s touching him.

That’s where the teasing comes in. And sure. The whole point of this was to experience touch more intensely, but Frank didn’t really think it would work. Now he’s quite literally in Billy’s hands and at his mercy. And Billy I staking full advantage. The gentlest touches, most delicate – fingertips trailing down his chest, over the quivering-tense lines of his abs and his biceps, just above his waistband, along his jaw. One could think he’s never touched Frank before and now has to make up for it. Not that Frank’s thinking that, because really, he’s not thinking at all. This is way more intense than he’d thought and he’s shivering before Billy even puts his mouth on him.

And that? Poor Frank? He has no real way of knowing what Billy’s going to do, and his mouth is so hot, so soft. A mix of body worship and self-indulgence – Billy’s just wholeheartedly enjoying what he’s doing, taking his time kissing down Frank’s sternum, dipping his tongue into his bellybutton, nipping on his lips, sucking on his throat, slipping his tongue into Frank’s mouth, …

Now, when Billy undoes Frank’s fly, Frank could hope that it would give him some relief but this is Billy we’re talking about. He gives Frank’s cock the exact same treatment – feather-light touches and soft-hot kisses, the occasional, playful flick of his tongue. It’s a lot. Frank’s an absolute mess.

And if he tries to speak up?

“Bill, I swear to –“

“We’re not doing gags today, sweetheart, that’s not what we agreed on. Just shut up now, we can try that some other time. That’s a whole other conversation to be had and I’m not sure you’re up for that right now. I mean, there are many different options.” And here, the bastard just goes off. 5 minute monologue on gags, his personal aesthetic preferences, the in depth-differences, etc.

Talking, of course, means even less attention for Frank’s poor, throbbing cock, which is especially cruel since Billy isn’t just not giving him what he needs, he’s also making matters worse by painting such pretty pictures for him. And with his eyes closed, he has no way of distracting himself from the mental image of Billy, flushed and pretty with dark, hooded eyes, jaw working and chin dripping –

You know, handcuffs would actually make this whole thing a lot easier.

But Billy’s not made of stone. So eventually, he too can’t take it anymore, overwhelmed with how he’s affecting Frank.

Honestly, it would be p easy to go the Bottom Frank route here. I’m not doing it, though, because truly, the Billy sinking down on Frank’s cock after all this teasing? Frank moaning, pressing his shoulders and wrists into the sheets in an effort to keep them there, shivering, writhing, gasping...that’s good shit

Billy may be the one riding his cock, but Frank’s the one getting fucked. He’s a mess. No clear thought to be had, absolutely drunk on pleasure. And he can’t keep still. He tries, but his hips are twitching, he’s throwing his head from one side to the other, abs twitching with the half-hearted attempts of stilling.

Billy’s having a great time. Watching Frank lose control like that, flush spilling down his chest, powerful body shaking and twitching… That’s something indeed.

And to make things worse, Billy won’t let him come. Ranging from “Come on, Frankie, you can do better than that.” To “Don’t you fucking dare”

A (gentle) hand wrapped around his throat to feel his pulse flutter and Billy’s riding him hard and fast, his own voice finally slipping, desire bleeding through until he finally gives Frank permission to come.

I truly think Frank would lose time for a little bit. The whole thing is entirely too intense. The darkness, the heat, the what felt like hours worth of teasing all finally culminating – it’s overwhelming. And it goes ON. Frank’s shaking, he’s moaning, body twitching almost violently.

(Billy takes it all with a glint in his eyes. Frank’s never looked this pretty and he feels so good – a combination that pushes Billy over the edge pretty much immediately, and he get’s to enjoy the heavenly visuals while enjoying his own orgasm, one palm resting on Frank’s chest to stabilise himself)

To make it short: blindfolds are a SUCCESS.

(naturally there’s aftercare – Billy’s very good at soothing and gentling Frank, and he even goes as far as to let himself be snuggled even though they’re both sweaty and sticky)

-

💜❤️🧡💛💖 thank you again for your lovely message!!!💖💛🧡❤️💜

#filth #brank #frankenbilly #I- #:'>

[muselin]

it's been awhile since ive sent anything ! ive currently been super busy with my side job, main one, and dabbling back into making music in my free time that i think I'll start putting more focus on.

as for my last anon it's okay if you call me binnie ! I'm fine with whatever nicknames someone gives me. bin, binbin, binnie, so on.

recently i got a new bed due to my cats having tore a hole in the middle of my last one, which i didn't even know they could do. along with my new mattress ive decided to spoil myself by getting a red satin bed set. the set came with the normals like bed spread, covers, yk yk, but along with it was an eye cover. yknow the sleeping mask things or whatever you call them ? (i literally cannot think of the name rn.) anywho, i thought of how cute it would be to blindfold someone.

my first thought was taemin when this idea struck me. now im sure it's obvious im a pretty kinky guy so i thought why not add to the fun and imagine handcuffing him to my bed frame ? not only that but put a leg spreader cuffed to him and a possible gag in his mouth would look cute. obviously i see taemin as super submissive so i can get behind the idea of pulling his hair, slapping him, bruising him, while i use him as my little cum slut. i think he'd enjoy it, hm ?

- 🗑

Binnieeee🗑! It's great that you have multiple things that you enjoy keeping you busy! What kind of music do you like making?

Reminds me - I got two kittens about 2 weeks ago! Maine Coons, brother and sister and they're 3 months old now. The black one is the boy and the tabby is the girl. They're from the same litter but she's a pound heavier than he is, she's huge.

Oh the red bed set sounds gorgeous! Let me know how it is sleeping on satin, I've heard it can get quite sweaty. When I moved out on my own, the first bedding set I bought for myself was all red too, because it's my favourite colour, and when my housemates in university saw my room with it they said it looked like a sex dungeon. I was like ?????

Anyway, it would be hot as fuck to blindfold someone with the red eye mask, in the middle of that all red bed! ESPECIALLY someone like Taemin, my god... And take loads of pictures of him handcuffed, blindfolded, locked in position with the spreader bar, maybe a nice red dildo in him to match the set. I think he would very much enjoy that and being made to cum until he can't feel his legs. And roughing him up any time he whines too much with a good hair yank or a slap here and there, yesyesyes.

#🗑anon #🗑bin #shinee hard hours