#smut Tumblr posts

  • joonidle
    14.05.2021 - 3 minutes ago

    BANG CHAN DRABBLE #1

    "Do you like these?" he asks, tugging at your lace panties.

    You smirk. "I do, but you're gonna rip them anyway, aren't you?"

    Chan shakes his head, still looking at the panties. You roll your eyes, then bring your own hands down to them and rip them.

    Chan looks at you, shocked.

    You shrug. "I like you more."

    "Fuck."

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  • smallhoursandlittlewonders
    14.05.2021 - 3 minutes ago
    #Levi Ackerman #Levi x reader #attack on titan #AoT#aot fanfiction #archive of our own #ao3#hange zoe#slow burn#hurt/comfort#angst #enemies to lovers #smut#eventual smut
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  • silvercreekhq
    14.05.2021 - 3 minutes ago
    reminder that we will be doing acceptances tonight. if you miss out, you’ll have to wait the weekend to get in your application! next acceptance will be on monday. so don’t miss out! we’re still looking for new members. we’re pretty active, overly friendly, and we have an OOC discord if you just wanna sit back and chill.
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  • pha5ed
    14.05.2021 - 4 minutes ago
    #pha5ed writing event #tw impact play #tw hitting#tw degradation #dream smp smut #dsmp smut#mcyt smut#techno smut#t3chn0#technoblade smut
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  • scaramouche-bully
    14.05.2021 - 4 minutes ago
    #sheep talks#genshin#genshin impact#genshin smut #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact smut #genshin zhongli #genshin impact zhongli #zhongli smut #genshin zhongli x reader #genshin impact zhongli x reader #anon ask
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  • earlgreydream
    14.05.2021 - 5 minutes ago

    cozy.

    | draco x reader x theo | smut | fluff |

    anon requested. Draco x reader x Theo smut

    The fire in the hearth crackled nearby, offering warmth in the common room made of marble and glass. You knelt on a satin pillow, curled up between the legs of your lover. Your head rested against the inside of Draco’s thigh, your back against the chair he was perched in. You felt safe at his feet, leaning into the touch of his hand in your hair.

    Your friends were all piled on the couches and on the floor around the coffee table, all fighting for a seat near the warm fire. You were wrapped in one of Theo’s knitted quidditch sweaters, his body above yours, draped over the arm of Draco’s chair.

    You let your mind wander, tuning out of the conversation about where everyone was spending Christmas. You were almost asleep, lulled into drowsiness by Draco’s fingers carding through your hair.

    “Y/N, love. Pansy asked you a question,” Draco hummed, his fingers brushing over your cheek.

    “Hm?” You hummed, struggling to open your eyes.

    “I asked if you were still awake,” she teased, and you yawned, hoping you could continue leaning on Draco without being disturbed.

    “Let’s go to bed, sweetheart,” Theo’s voice broke through your sleepy haze, and you held your arms out, too tired to really open your eyes or stand up. Draco laughed gently, and Theo bent down to pick you up.

    “Draco?” You mumbled, your arms draping over Theo’s back.

    “I’m going to stay down here a bit longer. I’ll be up later,” Draco kissed the back of your hand before letting Theo carry you to the dorms.

    “I want to go to your bed.”

    “My bed?” he teased, kissing your cheeks. You nodded, resting your head on his shoulder.

    He carried you to Draco’s prefect dorm, the large, private room where the three of you often slept. 

    Theo gently set you down on the edge of the bed, stepping into the ensuite and returning with a washcloth. You scrunched your face as he cleaned your makeup off gently, holding your jaw in his hand. You relaxed, letting him wash your makeup off, appreciating that he was doing it for you. 

    Theo loved to dote on you. He was gentle and sweet, and enjoyed caring for you and showering you with attention. It extended to Draco, too, who basked in the brunette’s affections. 

    You slipped off your jeans and crawled under the covers as soon as Theo was finished with your face. He smiled at you when he returned, amused by how cuddly you got when you were tired.

    “I want Draco,” you murmured, reaching out to his side of the empty bed.

    “What am I to you, then?”

    “I already have you here with me,” you pulled him into a kiss, feeling him smile against your lips. 

    Theo changed into joggers before sliding in bed with you. You moved to lay on top of him, wrapping your body around his. His hands moved to rest on your backside, gently brushing his thumbs over your skin. 

    Theo felt your breathing deepen as you fell asleep, curling up tighter into him. He kissed your head, listening to your soft sighs as you exhaled. 

    You were warm, like a little heater curled up on his chest. You snuggled deeper into the sweater as you slept, seeming to bury into the coziness. He pulled the duvet up higher over your back, and you relaxed, your fingers resting on his chest.

    Theo looked up when the door opened later, Draco slipping inside. He smiled at the two of you, his two favorite people. Draco walked over, setting his hand on Theo’s shoulder and kissing him firmly.

    “I love you,” Theo whispered, and Draco nodded, saying it back. 

    He brushed hair from your face, leaning down and kissing your temple. He sat beside the two of you for a while, murmuring softly with Theo about plans for the weekend before finally getting ready for bed. 

    They were careful not to disturb you, and Draco slid under the duvet, settling against Theo’s side. Theo removed an arm from you to wrap around Draco, playing with his silvery hair until they fell asleep.

    You woke up between the boys, all three of you half-asleep. You stirred and realized both of your boyfriends were hard.

    “Hey, hey,” Theo murmured, grabbing your hip as you ground back against him. 

    You rolled over and wrapped your arm around his neck, dragging the boy into a heavy kiss. Your fingers trailed over his defined abs, below his waistband. He moaned into your mouth, weakly bucking his hips into your hand as you stroked him. He was heavy in your fingers, his skin soft like velvet. The feeling was making arousal soak through your panties, smearing on the inside of your thighs.

    “Fuck, sweetheart,” Theo moaned before pushing his tongue into your mouth, deepening your kiss. 

    “Watching you two go at it is making me horny,” Draco murmured against your neck. He pushed his sweats down and began to grind against your ass, making you gasp. He hooked his fingers in the lace that barely covered you, pulling it aside. 

    “Keep touching Theo, baby,” Draco encouraged, pulling your leg over his to give him better access before he carefully pushed the tip inside of you. You stuttered for a moment before sliding your thumb over Theo’s tip, making him whine. Draco decided to tease you, a hint of sadism breaking through your early-morning softness. His thrusts were shallow at first, just barely entering you, edging your entrance.

    “Draco, please fuck me,” you cried, trying to squirm back to take more of him in.

    “I am, baby,” he feigned innocence, amusement sparkling in his starry eyes.

    “N-no, you’re teasing me. Please, I want all of you!”

    Draco gave you what you wanted all at once, his entire body connecting with yours. You arched your back off of Draco’s chest, ecstasy consuming you as the ridges of his cock dragged against your walls. Draco’s hips thrusted forward, burying himself as deep as possible inside of you. Your head dropped back on his shoulder, your vision blurring as his fingers rubbed circles on your clit. 

    “Come for me, Theo,” you begged sweetly, feeling him twitch in your hand. 

    His hand went to the back of your head, dragging you into another kiss as he came. His hips stuttered as he released in your hand, making a mess of his joggers.

    “You’re taking Draco’s cock so well, sweetheart. You look so pretty getting fucked like this in my sweater,” Theo praised you, laying his hand on the space between your hips.

    “He’s so big, I can feel him in your belly, stretching you out. I bet you’re so tight, squeezing the life out of him,” Theo’s words made Draco fuck you harder, chasing the relief he craved.

    Theo kissed you, his hands slipping under your sweater to gently fondle your tits. He lazily rocked into your hand, still-half hard from the erotic sight of you being railed by Draco.

    “I’m so close, fucking hell,” Draco swore, pulling your hips back to meet his as he wrapped his body around yours. The pressure building up inside of him exploded, and soon he was filling your pussy with hot white ribbons, buried all the way inside of you. You cried out against Theo’s lips at the sensation, overwhelmed from feeling so full.

    Draco’s torture on your clit didn’t cease, and soon you were tumbling over the edge, throbbing tightly around Draco as you came with a shudder. Your orgasm washed through you in waves, drawing out your euphoria until you were shaking.

    You winced as Draco pulled out of you, moving your panties back in place, keeping your releases inside of you. Some of it seeped through the lace, making you feel even more lewd. Draco swore at the sight, gathering it on his fingers before tasting you, making your cheeks burn. You hid your face in Theo, who lovingly stroked your hair.

    Peacefulness settled back over the room, and your mind and body softened, leftover endorphins simmering and making you relaxed.

    Both boys admired you, whispering soft praises about how lovely you were and how amazing you treated them. They adored you, showering you with affection and making sure you knew how terribly loved you were.

    The boys let you rest for a few moments, catching your breath and letting the high wear off. You felt a bit dazed as you opened your eyes, gazing up at the two gorgeous boys on either side of you.

    “We gotta shower, sweetheart. We’re all filthy. Your hand is messy and your pussy is spilling all over the place,” Theo kindly teased, cupping you between your legs and making you shudder and lean back into Draco.

    “Sensitive, love?” Draco asked, leading you toward the shower.

    “A little,” you confessed, your steps unsteady from the force of Draco fucking you. Theo helped you out if your clothes and tossed them aside, opening the glass door.

    Steam rose from the shower and you welcomed the hot water as you moved under the stream. It washed away the filth from your body, and you leaned back into Theo’s chest so he could properly cleanse you.

    He squeezed vanilla soap into his hands before rubbing and massaging it into your body, the sweet scent wafting around you. You let him turn you so he could wash your back, and Draco kissed your shoulder. You faded from reality as they washed themselves, your mind wandering to your warm bed that you desperately wished to get back to.

    It took some convincing to get you to let them wash your hair. You reminded them to be careful of your tangles, and they promised to be gentle.

    “Baby, did I hurt you?” Draco’s worried voice broke you out of your dreamy thoughts.

    You looked down and saw the bruise on your hip, matching up with his hand. Theo tensed, his fingertips brushing softly over your marked skin. He hated to see you with any sign of injury, wanting to protect you.

    “No, not at all,” you promised Draco, giving him a reassuring kiss. The boys exchanged a silent look, and Draco knew he was in for it later, bound to receive a lecture from Theo about being careful with you.

    Draco guided your head under the water, rising the soap from your hair before shutting it off. You squeezed the water out of your hair, hesitating to leave the warm shower.

    You shivered, goosebumps breaking out over your skin as you stepped into the cold air. Theo noticed, wrapping you in a towel. You giggled as he playfully rubbed you through it, tickling your sides and dragging you against his chest.

    “It’s so cold! I want to go back to bed,” you complained, trying to make your way back to the magically cleaned sheets.

    “Let’s get breakfast first, then go to Hogsmeade with everyone,” Draco suggested, and you sighed, unable to deny the attractiveness of the idea.

    You slipped into fur-lined leggings and a warm sweater, pulling wool socks onto your feet to go inside of your boots.

    Two cardamom buns and a cup of coffee later, you were braving the icy temperatures in order to go shopping and get some butterbeer.

    You walked between them, holding each of their hands as you popped in and out of shops, chattering excitedly with your friends.

    Giggles erupted from you as both boys kissed your cheeks, making you squeal with delight as you entered a pub for some butterbeer. You slid into a booth, closed in between their bodies, deciding there was nowhere else you’d rather be than with them.

    #earl grey draco #earl grey theo #theo nott#theodore nott #theo nott x reader #theo nott x reader smut #theo nott x reader fluff #theo nott fluff #theo nott smut #draco#draco malfoy#draco fluff#draco smut #draco x reader #draco x reader smut #draco x reader fluff #draco malfoy x reader #draco x theo x reader #draco x reader x theo #harry potter#Draco imagine#Draco oneshot #theo nott imagine
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  • niverse-recs
    14.05.2021 - 5 minutes ago

    On Wings of Steel

    Summary: They may serve on the same airship but Dean knows regular crew and the elite who wear the Seraphim Star aren't supposed to have anything to do with each other. It's a regulation Dean's more than willing to break. Dean/Castiel, Steampunk AU.

    fanfiction.net Link

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  • seularcade
    14.05.2021 - 6 minutes ago
    #ari's asks! #-by jenosslut! #eileen🌼 #hnngh i also have shrek smut hhshh
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  • poge-life
    14.05.2021 - 8 minutes ago
    #drew starkey#rafe Cameron#outer banks #outer banks imagines #rafe cameron imagines #drew starkey imagine #outer banks imagine #rafe cameron #rafe cameron imagine #outer banks smut
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  • sarahjkl82-blog
    14.05.2021 - 8 minutes ago

    Artistic Instinct Chapter Nine

    Header thanks to the lovely @yespolkadotkitty

    Summary: Marcus Pike and OC Anushka Pierce have been selected to work on a 5 eyes (Australia, Canada, NZ, the UK and US) intelligence team to track down art forgeries as a part of taking down an international white terrorism cell. Marcus is trying to escape his broken heart, Anushka is just trying to escape what the world expects of her.

    Word count: 6500

    Warnings: Language as always, warning of racist language (Nush talking about her mother's experiences), yearning, fluff to second base (yes, my darlings- IT IS ON!), alcohol is mentioned, food, anxiety attacks.

    Pairing: Marcus Pike x reader (OC)

    This comes with a MASSIVE THANK YOU to the lovely @yespolkadotkitty , who read, re-read, pointed out the constant flipping between tenses and gave me the confidence to try to write something. This is the first thing I have written since angsty poetry as a teenager. Apologies if it is shit!

    People often think artists

    Create with their hands

    But really they create

    with their hearts

    So please be gentle

    For we wear our vulnerability

    On our sleeves

    And freely give all we have

    Hoping someone will fall

    In love with the parts we offer

    R. Evelyn

    Chapter Nine

    The sharp buzz of the door startles you out of your daydream. Laden with roughly the entire contents of your spice cupboard, vegetables, meat and prawns, your hands are crisscrossed with creases from where the weight of the totes has gouged at your skin. A smart-looking kindly gentleman greets you, “You must be Ms Pierce. Mr Pike has asked for you to wait here for him.”

    Wow! Marcus’ place has a concierge - who did he have to blow to get a place like this?!

    Throwing the bags onto one of the hotel lounge-like chairs, you slump into another as you rub soreness from your hands. A small ping tells you that the lift has arrived - you look over in the direction of the noise, a tremor of excitement rippling through you. An adorably scruffy Marcus, wearing old jeans and a t-shirt, steps out - his face utterly beaming on seeing you. “Hey! How are you doing?” he leans in to kiss your cheek twice - hang on, when did this start being a thing?

    “Why didn’t you let me pick you up? You’ve carried so much over- lemme see your hands,” his brow knits on seeing the rapidly reddening welts as he takes your hands in his, brushing his thumbs gently across your palms.

    “You live four roads away from me - they’re not that bad! And anyway, you can help me now- which floor do you live on?” You outwardly roll your eyes at the sweetness Marcus shows you, secretly enjoying the stroke of his fingers and the ghostly press of his lips still burning a hole in your cheek.

    Marcus takes all of the bags from the chair, refusing point blank to entertain you helping him to take them upstairs - you watch as his arms twitch under the weight, enjoying the mixture of confusion and shock at your strength across his face, “you carried all of this?”

    Nodding at him, you try to take a bag again, but he dangles it just out of reach, “Watch it - you do realise that I have two other brothers apart from Ads? I will think nothing of rugby tackling you to the floor and pinning you down,” you warn, enjoying the flush brought to his cheeks.

    “You’ll be the death of me,” Marcus flusters as he calls the lift, handing you the smallest, lightest bag.

    ✪✪✪✪✪

    Exiting at the top floor, you’re taken aback by the amount of light and quiet that washes throughout the building. Feeling so removed from the shadows cast from the tower blocks and the hustle and bustle of the streets below, the broad daylight offers a sense of serenity, a peace that invites itself into the soul and makes itself at home. As Marcus unlocks the door to his flat, you kick off your shoes at the entrance, “You don’t have to do that,” he offers through the keys in his mouth, holding the door open with his elbow, still refusing any help from you.

    “Oh believe me, if I didn’t, my mum’s radar would go off and I would be cruising for a bruising,” you giggle, taking in the glorious spaciousness of his apartment, “I promise my feet aren’t too stinky and that I put on clean socks.”

    “Whatever makes you comfortable,” Marcus’ eyes crinkle at you, “Can I get you something to drink or eat?”

    “A coffee would be ace - strong and black please,” you reply, your gaze drinking in the details of his home. Books line the shelves along one wall - such a mixture of titles ranging from airport bestsellers to obscure art catalogues - the relief to see actual paper and hardbacks adorning the shelves rather than trinkets and plants when so many keep their books electronically in their pockets.

    A couple of large canvases lie propped against another - long hours preventing them from being hung - their bright colours sure to bring joyful hues to quite a stark room. There are a few photo frames dotted around - mostly pictures of a moment in time rather than poses - of people you assume are friends and family from back in the States. Handing you a steaming mug, Marcus looks over your shoulder as you look at a photo of an older couple dancing and laughing at a wedding, “That’s my mamá and papá at my oldest sister’s wedding. It was such a magical day - just so much love in the air.”

    “You can feel the joy radiating from them,” you offer, lowering your gaze from him to grab the frame next to the picture of his parents, “Are these your sisters or cousins? You all look very alike.”

    “Yeah, my little sisters,” he grins proudly. “This one is Beth - she’s two years younger and is a paediatrician in Texas. Has two kids with her wife, Sophie. And this one is Cat - she’s doing her own thing out on the West Coast as a musician. They definitely inherited all the clever and cool genes.”

    “Hah! You’re kinder to your sisters than I am to my brothers,” you grin, “They’re all total idiots but due to some weird genetic and biological insistence, I still love them.”

    Taking a gulp of your coffee, you turn back towards him, “Come on you, we’d better get to work if you want a curry this evening.”

    He pouts, looking more like a sulky little boy than a middle aged man. You can’t help but laugh at the sad puppy dog eyes he is conjuring at the thought of work, “Oh poppet, what’s wrong?” you teasingly mock.

    “I kinda hoped you were a magician who could just magic a curry outta nowhere so we could watch films til the others arrive,” Marcus grumps shoving his hands in his pockets.

    “Well, there is UberEats for that but you horrible lot put me up to this so you’re going to help,” you wag your finger at him, “But as you’re the only one here, you get the honour of being the chief taster,” you add, tapping him playfully on the nose.

    With a soft huff and a furrow of the brow, Marcus guides you into the kitchen where, whilst he was making your coffee, he has helpfully already put all the fresh produce in his fridge as the sides are delightfully blank apart from the bags of spices.

    “What are we making today, Chef?”

    “Ok, meat dishes are a spiced yoghurt leg of lamb, a keema - don’t you give me that look, a cardamom butter chicken, and, a prawn and courgette curry,” you turn to Marcus’ fridge to find the lamb, “Needs to come to room temperature before we cook it.”

    “My tummy is rumbling already,” Marcus adds, his eyes glinting excitedly as he licks along his lower lip, the skin glistening damply. You have never quite figured out whether your love of his lips is due to their fullness or the association with the kindness of his words.

    “Hah- you’re not getting away without having some veggies, too, mister,” you cluck as you hand him a bag of onions and several bulbs of garlic to skin, chop and crush for the various dishes.

    “Ok, Moooom,” Marcus dramatically rolls his eyes at your dictate, “I admit, I’d rather eat sugary or salty things over green stuff but I can make an exception for curried veg.”

    The arch of your eyebrow virtually reaches your hairline at him teasingly calling you mom, so you reach for the towel, twist it and flick him hard on what you’d hoped would be his hip but catch him square on his arse instead.

    A yelp of pain and wide eyes greet your action, “Did you just…? Oh, it is on.! You might think you’re tough from your brothers but my sisters taught me sneaky tactics.”

    “Come at me, bro!” you taunt from the other side of the kitchen, putting up a boxing stance.

    Brandishing the hand without the paring knife in your general direction, he answers, “Nope, gonna use the element of surprise and attack when you least expect it!”

    Tutting your tongue at Marcus’ weak ass response, you grab the spices you need to prepare under the power of your pestle and mortar. With the waft of roasting cumin soaring through the air and your battle with your boss at a supposedly declared ceasefire, everything starts to feel comfortable and easy again. You could be six years old and standing on the chair next to your mum, watching like a hawk as she lovingly prepared meals for your family with an ever burgeoning belly. It was then, during those hours shared in the galley kitchen that became your time with her when normally it felt pretty split between her work as a GP and your brothers.

    What the fuck… You jump out of your skin when a warm, solid wall presses you out of your nostalgic reverie, “Hah! Pinned ya! Sneaky tactics- told ya they worked,” a deep, soft voice whispers in your ear.

    Your heart flutters like a bird trying to escape its rib cage with the closeness of Marcus, the heat rising through your body from your proximity to him - a visceral response to the glorious cocktail of masculine smell from his aftershave and body wash.

    What do I do next?

    Why can’t I bloody think straight?

    Wiggling yourself around so that you face him, his face now so close that you can feel his warm breath upon your cheeks. Your eyes playfully catch the steady gaze of Marcus’ deep soulful pools. It would only take the smallest of movements to reach forwards and kiss him right on that stupidly gorgeous, plush Cupid’s bow and crease. But… what if he doesn’t want that? He’s my fucking boss - that would be a stellar move to make…

    Instead of the tiny incline forwards to press your lips against his as every inch of you screams to do so, you drop to the floor and crawl out from between his legs, “Not pinned well enough it seems,” you tease haltingly as your tongue sticks in your dry throat.

    As you check the browning of the cumin seeds, out of the corner of your eye you see Marcus’ head drop sadly, hearing a small sigh - his hands still upon the work surface and feet not having moved from the position he had pinned you in moments earlier.

    Did he want to...? No, surely not.

    “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that, Nush,” Marcus humbly apologises, pushing himself off the side, “I hope that I haven’t made things awkward.”

    “Don’t be an idiot,” you softly say, pouring the roasted cumin into the mortar, ready to be ground, “I was the one who flicked you on your arse - I am the one who should be apologising.”

    You beckon gently to Marcus, who has now taken refuge in the furthest corner of the kitchen from you - wringing his hands instead of chopping the onions, “Come over here - I want you to experience one of my most favourite smells of childhood. These are roasted cumin seeds and when you grind them, they release the most heavenly scent.”

    After a few grinds, you offer the bowl towards Marcus’ face as he closes the gap between you, “I… Wow! I wouldn’t have thought it would make such a difference but it’s almost like you’ve entirely transformed it. See,” the dimple deepens in that right cheek of his, “you are a magician.”

    “I love how spices - a bit like paint - can take on completely different characters depending on how you treat them. Leave the spice whole and you have this mild and fragrant taste. If you crush them, then their attitude comes back tenfold with a vengeance. Toast them, and they may as well be Clark Kent in a phone booth.”

    Looking up you see Marcus gazing at you with a sweet half smile on his face - could he like me… like that?

    “Sorry, you don’t need to hear me blathering on,” you fluster, waving your hand in a dismissive gesture as the heat rises through your face.

    Shaking his head gently without dropping your regard, “No. No, please don’t ever stop. Your passion for things is beautiful.”

    “Growing up, I didn’t realise that other people didn’t have whole cupboards filled to the brim with herbs, spices and seasonings. I mean, for all the damage the British Empire reeked, you’d have hoped that the spices would have entered more of their culture, but no! Apparently, my family was the weird one for having food with a flavour,” you shrug your shoulders at some of the ridiculous things you’d heard as a child - accusations of differences you’d never thought to be of note.

    Marcus chuckles at your indignance, “It’s funny you should say that. I didn’t realise that my mamá had an accent until it was pointed out to me when I was a kid.”

    Noting your slightly confused expression, Marcus explains, “She’s Argentinian- came to the States as a political refugee as she was a journalist following the disappearances during the Dirty War. Met my dad, and I came along very soon after, and the rest is history..”

    You can’t help but laugh at the flush on Marcus’ cheeks as he recounts his personal history to you, “Love can’t be held back when it hits and it’s obvious that they’re still crazy about each other now from that photo.”

    “Exactly, no point in wasting time when you know what you want,” Marcus grins, looking at his feet.

    “My parents have a similar story. My dad is as English as they come - I mean we’re on a freaking island so there’s no true thing as being completely English. My mum is from Pakistan - Karachi - it’s in the South.”

    “She came over due to the fighting between East and West Pakistan - the two countries that are now Pakistan and Bangladesh. It kept interrupting her studies to become a doctor so she came to England and restarted her degree here.”

    Marcus’ brow creases in thought, “Why did she restart her degree? Could the credits not just be transferred to the college she moved to in the UK?”

    “Hah- yeah. It was the seventies, during a time where all Southern Asians were P*kis - no matter where they were from on the Indian subcontinent- and thought of as dirty, lesser beings. There were constant race riots for anyone who wasn’t ethnically white or English. She would never have been taken seriously with her mediocre medical training from some Adobe hut in the middle of a jungle,” you fume, pounding the seeds into fragments. The mortar being threatened with the same fate too.

    Marcus’ fingers wrap around your wrist to try and prevent your rage at the ignorance of others from causing you an injury, “I am so sorry,” he pulls you into a warm, tender hug, tucking your head under his chin, “How long before food can take care of itself so we can put a film on? I think we both need a rest.”

    “Hmmm, ten minutes and then most things can simmer or be switched off ready for a reheat or proper cook this evening,” you say, leaning reluctantly out of his comforting arms to go check on the bubbling saucepans of food.

    “‘K. I’ll go get things set up so you can flop for a bit,” Marcus touches you gently on your shoulder as he goes to set up the front room. You go to squeeze his hand but it’s removed from your shoulder too quickly for your response.

    ✪✪✪✪✪

    “You ready?” Marcus calls through the wall as you turn off the heat from the final pans.

    “Mhm,” you mumble in response to his question - double, triple checking that everything is off. Too many fire alarms ruining perfectly lovely meals or moments.

    “What did you pick?” You ask, curling up on the other end of the sofa to Marcus, “Do you have no cushions?”

    “Shit, no -I’m a guy, what can I say? - lemme grab the pillows from the bed,” Marcus jumps up, calling through from his bedroom, “Bet you have loads on your couch.”

    “A fuckload, but, mainly to hide the fact the springs have gone. It’s like a precarious balancing act of comfort on there,” you surreptitiously sniff the pillow, inhaling the smell of Marcus’ shampoo, “Did you give me your pillow?”

    A confused look is shot at you from the other end of the sofa, “Whaddya mean?”

    “Smells of your hair,” you say as you squish it into the perfect comfy shape, “Like a mixture of lemon and eucalyptus.”

    “That’s a sharp nose you’ve got. I gave you the other side though,” Marcus huffs through a chuckles he shakes his head at your somewhat strange comment, “Guess I’ve been sleeping across both sides then.”

    “Best thing about sleeping alone- getting to starfish across the bed. Unless of course…”

    Marcus can’t help but laugh at your awkward dig to find out whether he’d brought home the goddess from Friday’s antics, “So you wanna know if I brought home Kemi?”

    “She was very beautiful. You’d have been mad not to,” you try to school your expression as best you can, keeping your eyes glued to Bing Crosby and Grace Kelly singing about true love, desperate to hide the jealousy coursing through your veins.

    “Must be mad then. Didn’t even kiss her,” Marcus honestly answers whilst copying your tactic of staring at the tv, “She could see that there was someone else I liked so it would have been cruel to have done anything.”

    You mull this over in silence, trying not to speak, to ask a million questions.

    “Nush.”

    “Mhm?”

    “Can I talk to y…”

    You both jump as an alarm goes off on your phone to remind you to turn the lamb down in the oven.

    “Oh shit. Hold that thought,” you jump up from the sofa, heading in the direction of the kitchen with zero thought of what the man at the end of the sofa is desperately trying to tell you. Fiddling with Marcus’ ridiculously swanky oven until it looks like it is doing what you want it to do, you walk back in with two ice cold beers from his fridge.

    “Raided your fridge,” you cheekily grin, holding one out to Marcus, the condensation running, down your fingers, “Hope you don’t mind!”

    “Good thinking, Batman,” Marcus nods in appreciation, “Any more alarms set to scare us both?”

    “Only due to go off when the film is done, so…” you yawn widely, “We’ve got a while yet.”

    Marcus’ hand that was slung over the back of the sofa, lifts to stroke your shoulder, “You sleepy? C'mere, you.” With a soft tug of your t-shirt sleeve, he pulls you into his side - your willingness to sink into his broad chest very apparent. Your ear is pressed against him, his heartbeat singing a lullaby to you as his fingers stroke and caress the silken waves of your hair. You wonder at how this man - a total stranger a week ago - has seemingly knitted himself into becoming a cocoon of safety for you, his gentleness and calm offering a haven of tranquility in your otherwise cacophonous world, as the light in the room slowly fades to black.

    ✪✪✪✪✪

    “Uh oh.”

    “Hey, welcome back, sunshine!” a gentle pair of fingers stroke back the hair that had drifted into your face as you dozed.

    “Sorry for falling asleep. Again,” trying to finesse your way through the heat flaming your cheeks, you offer an awkward grin towards your chuckling pillow, “Guess we’d better start getting things finished as we’ve only got a couple of hours until everyone arrives.

    “Oh, don’t give me that look, Marcus! I don’t want to move either but this curry won’t finish cooking itself.”

    “Spit spot, there’s work to be done,” Marcus trills as he adopts his best attempt at a British accent.

    “What the fuck was that? Did you just turn into Dick Van Dyke or something?” You tease mercilessly at the appalling sound coming from those lips, choking back laughter at his mock offended face.

    “C’mon, you’re right. We’d better get moving,” Marcus stands with a stretch and a creak before reaching back to tug you to your feet.

    Back under the glowing lights of Marcus’ kitchen, his presence is now constantly close to yours as you glide together around the space - stirring, chopping and checking. Every time he passes, above the general aroma of cumin and coriander, the onions and garlic, you can smell the cedar and amber upon his skin- a deliciously masculine scent that only seeks to entangle your senses further.

    “Here, try this,” you hold out a heaped teaspoon of mince curry to Marcus, “This is the keema - I promise that I only put in the two chillies you chopped for me, this time.”

    “Mmm, that’s so good,” he says thickly between chews, stealing the spoon from you as he dives in for a second, third, fourth spoonful.

    “Hahaha! Leave some for the others- and you need to try it with some raita and fried onions too,” you check through your dog-eared, yellowed and slightly sticky recipe book that your mum had handed you the day you’d left home at eighteen - a memo of all the times you had cooked them together.

    “Shit, I’d better start the chicken,” going through the spices in front of you, you search for the cardamoms that would make the butter chicken sing, “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!”

    Marcus’ head snaps up from the green beans he was preparing towards you, “What’s up, sweetheart?”

    “I can’t find the cardamoms for the butter chicken - gah I knew I’d fuck this up!” you cry, scraping your trembling hands through your hair, eyes flashing around the room wildly as your cortisol rises, making you want to run and scream at your failure to feed your friends.

    “Whoa - where’s this coming from? C’mon, look at me. Look at me, Nush,” Marcus has his hands on either side of your shoulders, squeezing them gently, “There’s enough here to feed our whole office for the week with the daals you prepared yesterday, the vegetables we’re about to make and the meats that we’ve cooked up already here. Andy is bringing all the rice and naan, Kiri is bringing beers and Dian is on gin and tonic duty. You have done more than enough and I will not allow you to get this upset over one missing ingredient especially when there is a small store downstairs that I’m sure will have it, if we cannot find it after we look for it together.”

    After seeing your numb nod as an agreement, Marcus moves his hands to the side of your head to focus your gaze on him rather than the panic seeping through you. As he strokes his thumbs across your cheeks, you allow your eyes to close and your breathing to regain a normal pattern.

    “I’m sorry.”

    “Why are you apologising?” Marcus searches your now open eyes.

    “My reactions are ridiculous. Most people tell me to stop being so stupid and that just whips the storm inside my head even more,” you whisper, “But you. You know how to slow everything down and stop the spinning.”

    The corner of Marcus’ mouth twitches, “D’ya wanna know a secret?” You nod at him, “As you know, I was married before. When it ended, I totally spiralled. The world kept spinning too fast and I experienced constant anxiety, very nearly burning out of my role.

    “I was lucky. My boss was understanding but made me promise to get some support. He knew of someone mental health trained within the FBI who was there for mainly hostage negotiations - not part of the true psych team but someone who could help without it turning up on your record.

    “Kwame worked with me for almost a year - pretty much to the point my decree absolute came through. Our sessions were done on a track - by running with me, he was teaching me the skills I needed to control my fears. By my feet hitting the tarmac, he was grounding me. By going over running techniques, he was teaching me how to control my breathing- taking longer and deeper breaths. And running is just repetition. A mindful repetition that allows your brain to have a bit of a break.

    “So when I see you start to spiral, I try to give you the same steps he taught me. Get you grounded, opposite me so you copy my breathing and hope that gets you on the right track.”

    “Thank you,” you drop your head forwards, relaxing onto his chest. He feels so - safe.

    “You don’t need to thank me. Well, okay maybe you do as look what I’ve just spotted,” Marcus holds the offending spice aloft.

    “Oh my god, I could fucking kiss you. You have just saved the curry,” you dramatically declare, clutching the cardamom jar to your heart before placing it next to the other ingredients on the counter.

    “Go on then.”

    What?

    His comment makes you snap your head over to catch Marcus’ tremulous gaze, his eyes darting between the floor and your lips. He takes a small step, closing the small distance between the two of you, threading his fingers between yours. Each slow movement offers an unspoken opportunity for you to step away. To tease him and move on with the day.

    But why on Earth would you?

    With your heart racing faster and faster, you lure him ever closer with your eyes, soft but absolute in their conviction of what was about to pass between you. A small part of you understands that when you kiss him, something will change forever. That within his lips you may find the place to call home - the aching in your stomach may cease and life could start to make sense again. The anxieties of the week washing away, the pain of your collective pasts and the hint of a brighter, happier future before you.

    When he doesn’t move again, you seize the moment. Pushing up onto your socked tiptoes, you tilt your chin, inclining your face until your lips come to rest upon his in the sweetest, chastest kiss. Drawing back slightly to check that Marcus is okay with a raise of your eyebrows and widened eyes, he holds your gaze steadily, similarly stunned - a mirror of each other with racing hearts and slightly parted lips. It’s like in that moment everything around you ceases to exist as anything other than extraneous nonsense - all the noise inside your head silenced by that one touch.

    A small dumbstruck smile creeps across Marcus’ lips before he lowers his head to press another gentle kiss upon you. Then another. Then another. Each press of your lips a little longer. A little deeper. Your lips part to allow his tongue entry as every single thought is quietened by the taste of him. Dropping hands for his to cradle your face and yours to thread through his hair as your bodies press together tightly.

    Oh the taste of him is utterly exquisite! From where you’ve been using him as chief curry taster, there’s an element of spices with the tiniest hint of mint. And how you have missed having that beautifully solid warmth of his body next to yours. Inhaling his breaths that fall upon you, your hearts match each other’s rhythms as your lips explore each other, every sensation drawing together to create a humming ball of energy, like you are standing at the point where lightning strikes the Earth.

    ✪✪✪✪✪

    Hands fisted tightly in each other’s clothing - both stuck in the quandary of wanting to tear the fabric from your bodies but also frightened of pushing the other too far. Finally pulling apart, you gaze upon Marcus - all lust blown pupils and dopey smiles. Your foreheads come back to rest against each other, unable to quite let go just yet, not wanting to break the spell and return to reality.

    “I have wanted to kiss you since perhaps the first time I met you,” Marcus murmurs as his lips gently ghost over your cheeks, “Maybe even from seeing the photo in your file when Andy drove me here from the airport.”

    “Was the person, me?” You quietly ask, finally with the confidence to finish that conversation, “The reason you didn’t kiss or sleep with the goddess?”

    He drops his eyes as he gives you a small nod, “Normally, I’d have just asked you out but I was scared of fucking up. It’s been a long time since I felt a spark with anyone.

    “You’ve entered my life in this whirlwind of intelligence, beauty and tenderness - I didn’t want to frighten you or make you feel uncomfortable if you didn’t reciprocate.”

    A thousand thoughts flood your mind as Marcus says those words. All at once, you want to tell him how safe he makes you feel. How much now that you’ve started kissing him, you never want to stop. How the cruel critics of slumber, silence themselves when you feel his heartbeat against your cheek.

    Instead you stand there, silent.

    Trying to stroke out the creases you’ve created in his t-shirt as you attempt to find words to put into a logical order, you notice his face twitching when the material under your fingers makes contact with his sides, “Oh Marcus, are you ticklish?”

    “Um, no,” Marcus tries to deny breezily as he takes a small, hesitant step back from you, pretending to steady himself.

    Making a small movement towards him, your hands at the same level as the point of the bunched fabric - you ask, “Are you sure about that?”

    “Yeah,” Marcus is now eyeing you suspiciously - desperate to kiss you again but also a little worried as to what havoc your fingers might reek.

    “Then, why are you moving away from me?”

    “No reason…” his usually deep voice now a little tighter and higher, “Nush… What are you about to ARGH!”

    His knees crumble beneath him as you attack his sensitive sides, “Gah! Quit it, woman,” he weakly commands between wheezes and hoots of laughter.

    Taking full advantage of Marcus’ prone and vulnerable position, you take the opportunity to straddle him - effectively pinning him to the floor, “This is how you pin someone.”

    “I let you pin me,” Marcus corrects you with a wink.

    “Oh really?” you contest, entirely unconvinced by his bravado.

    “Yeah,” he says with a small wiggle, bringing his hands to the back of your head, “Cos y’see, I can flip our positions quite easily.”

    Suddenly, you find yourself flat on your back in Marcus’ kitchen with zero air in your lungs to form any sensible thought other than to kiss him hard. His large hands cradle your head as he props himself gently above you on his elbows. You feel his entire body covering yours. Deliciously pressing against every single inch of you and oh how it takes every bit of the minutismal amount of self control you have to not beg him to fuck you senseless into that floor.

    ✪✪✪✪✪

    “Shit, is that your door?”

    “Fuck,” Marcus pushes himself up to kneeling between your legs, “Can we pretend we’re not in?”

    The harsh realisation of an evening with your colleagues, albeit lovely people, sinks in to you both.

    “Nope,” you groan, popping the p with a deflated gusto, “Hang on, don’t buzz them up until I’ve tucked my boobs back into my bra.”

    “I dunno, makes for easier access,” Marcus lopsidedly grins with a wink as he heads for the door.

    “You certainly didn’t seem to make hard work of it earlier,” you mumble at him, before you affix a smile to your face, “Hey! How are you all doing?”

    A sea of never ending hugs envelopes and separates you from Marcus as everyone piles into his apartment. The stupid grin still firmly in place on your face since you’d first kissed, you find that every time you look over at him, he’s gazing right back, mirroring that lovestruck smile.

    “Oh my god, it all smells so amazing,” Dian waxes lyrical, squeezing you tightly as she inhales a lungful of exotically scented air, “What’ve we got?”

    You take her by the hand into the kitchen to show all the different things you had bubbling away. Andy ducks into the kitchen behind you, laden with bags filled with pilau rice, naan and chapatis, and a beautiful small bunch of spring flowers in his other hand - tiny tête-à-tête daffodils with multiple heads along each stalk, brilliant yellow and red tulips standing like soldiers and the otherworldly looking stems of hyacinth, wickedly scenting the air under your nose as he thrusts them under there.

    “Hey pretty girl, here’s all the bits you asked for. You deserve a much bigger bunch for what I’ve roped you into but I know you love the early blooms,” he offers by way of apology, sticking a kiss to the side of your forehead, “Smells fucking good though as ever. Hope you don’t mind but I’ve brought a box to take some home for Greg - he was a jealous arse this evening so I suppose I should share.”

    “You know the way I cook, enough for several small armies,” you wonkily grin at him, truly thankful for the part he’d had to play, “‘Fraid there’s no easy way to say this and you will have to be the one to break it to Greg, but there’s no butter chicken tonight.”

    “You’d better have a damn good excuse for this slatternly behaviour, madam,” Andy gives you a serious side eye for this infraction.

    “Well…”

    “Initially Nush couldn’t find the cardamoms but then we ran out of time. Plenty of food here, though,” Marcus answers for you, his hand gently holding your hip as he reaches around you to grab a couple of beers from the fridge.

    You see Andy catch Marcus’ hand lightly stroking your side as he walks back to Kiritopa, but are entirely grateful when his expression and mouth say nothing. The light chatter in the kitchen, whilst Dian dips a teaspoon into all the pots, is interrupted by a small knock at the door. Sticking your head around the kitchen door, you spot Marcus opening the door to a nervous-looking Harper. Andy sidles past you, to pull her into the main room, rather than her previous position of standing on the doorstep, utterly awkward and obviously feeling quite out of place.

    “Hi, I hope you don’t mind me coming. I know I wasn’t there Friday but I don’t really do large crowds and drinking.”

    You walk over to her amidst the chorus of “not to worry”s and “lovely to see you”s, “Fancy something to drink now? Got plenty of soft options and I think I’ll stick alongside you as I’ve got to make sure I don’t burn stuff.”

    “Including yourself, this time,” Harper retorts quickly with a small smile and a raise of her eyebrows.

    “Hah, chance’d be a fine thing,” Andy laughs, slapping your shoulder before turning back to clink bottles and talk with Kiri and Marcus.

    ✪✪✪✪✪

    Through the full length doors of Marcus’ balcony, evening spring sunshine streams through, bathing the group of your co-workers in a gentle, diffused light that flows around the room coating you in a golden glow. You all eat your fill and then some, with full tummies and tired eyes - the kitchen still full of half eaten dishes.

    “Can we make this a weekly thing?” Kiritopa asks through a mouthful of food, hopefully.

    “Not unless we take it in turns or get a take away - I don’t have the physical or emotional energy to make this level of curry every weekend,” you pointedly remark, looking up from your coke to meet Marcus’ eyes.

    You’ve spent the evening barely speaking to each other for fear of alerting the others but surreptitiously brushing past so that you can sneak touches. Tender hidden strokes that feel like the kindest stitches on hidden, gaping wounds.

    Marcus stands up to help usher the evening to an end and get you to himself again, “I have some boxes for y’all to take food home as otherwise, I’ll be eating this for weeks - delicious as it is.”

    Everyone thankfully takes their boss’ hint and head into the kitchen to grab platefuls to reheat after long days. Slowly saying their goodbyes, your friends drift off in the direction of their homes as you throw yourself in an exhausted heap of bones on his sofa. Two strong hands grip you under your arms, to drape your torso across his lap.

    “Hey tired girl,” you slightly open your eyes to spy a smiling Marcus gazing down at you. His fingers draw lazy patterns over the sensitive skin of your neck.

    “I’d like to take you on a proper date this week. Wanna do this properly. Make a bit of a fuss.”

    “Yeah? Not just pin me down and ravish me on the kitchen floor?” you grin widely at him.

    “Well, I’d hardly call that a ravishing…” your eyes widen, eyebrows raising at Marcus’ comment, excitement pooling in your tummy, “Yeah, I saw there’s an Argentinian restaurant in Blackheath so how about steak, Malbec and homemade ice cream before I bring you back to either yours, or mine, for another, even better ravishing?”

    “That sounds amazing, although with the amount of food in my belly, I may never have to eat again,” you give your stomach a rub, “But the ravishing…”

    Hauling you up to sitting across his lap, you protest loudly, “I am going to crush your legs.”

    “Stop making ridiculous comments and c’mere,” Marcus demands as he gently turns your head towards him, stealing a delicate kiss from you.

    “I...should… - argh! Stop kissing me for a second,” you beg halfheartedly, “I should go home.”

    “Stay.”

    “Please stay,” Marcus desperately entreats you, “I’m not expecting anything but I’d love it if you stayed. I know you’ve got nothing here but give me two minutes and I can have a spare toothbrush for you. I’ll drop you home early tomorrow morning so you can grab some clothes and then we can go into work together?”

    It feels as though the wind is knocked out of your lungs with the depth of Marcus’ need to be around you.

    How does he do it?

    “There’s no games with you, are there?” you twist in Marcus’ lap so that you now straddle his thighs, placing your hands on either side of his ridiculously handsome face.

    “No,” he shakes head slowly, all the while holding eye contact with you, “I’m too old and I know what I want.”

    “What’s that?”

    Stroking his hands up and down your sides as he nuzzles your neck, he clearly and confidently declares,

    “You.”

    Tag list of glory (as ever, please ask to be put on or dropped from the list): @astroboots @silverwolf319@sirowsky @leonieb @disgruntledspacedad @bison-writes @the-ginger-hedge-witch @danniburgh @sugarontherims @green-socks @tardisfangurl @absurdthirst @pedropascalito-deactivated20210 @mouthymandalorian @mrsparknuts @lunaserenade @zukoyonce @agirllovespancakes @yespolkadotkitty

    #pedro pascal #josé pedro balmaceda pascal #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal#ppascaledit #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal x reader #marcus pike #marcus pike x reader #the mentalist #the mentalist fanfic #marcus pike x oc #marcus pike x oc reader
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  • friendly-neighborhood-ghoul
    14.05.2021 - 8 minutes ago

    Me when Evan does anything.

    #american horror story #evan peters#kai anderson#ahs cult#ahs icons #evan peters smut #booboodaddy
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  • theatre-miriko
    14.05.2021 - 10 minutes ago

    mei mei || kugisaki nobara || zenin maki ; shopping dates

    — anime: jujutsu kaisen ✵ t.w: suggestive on mei mei’s part

    — pronouns: she/her ✵ movie type: trailer [h.c]

    — request: Shopping date HCs for Mei Mei, Nobara, and Maki with a female s/o? 👀

    — director’s notes: YEEEES FINALLY A REQ FOR THE GIRLBOSS MEI MEI!! BEEN WAITIN FOR THIS TURN IT UP. oh also, not proofread :p. hope you all enjoy this (jujutsu kaisen) trailer! ♥︎

    — MEI MEI

    spoils you rotten! you’re the only one she wants to spend every penny on.

    lowkey manages a way to get you into the lingerie shop......drools over everything you try on.....

    every place is a place for pictures !!! you find it annoying endearing how her eyes sparkle while tickling you to take another picture with her

    miss maam catches a lot of attention with her confidence / beauty and paired off with you ??? let’s just say an abundance of women and men have asked for your number through the day

    she’s a regular at bougie / fancy shops so don’t be surprised when in shops random salesperson come up to her and strikes a conversation

    gets you waaaaaaay too many things you don’t need but she always pouts if you decline so you don’t have the heart to anymore :((

    checking each other’s boob sizes and buying bras together <33

    overall, going shopping with mei mei is always eventful and you always cuddle after back home

    — KUGISAKI NOBARA

    nobara forced you out of your home two hours earlier since she wanted to be ahead of traffic.

    queen already has a list of things she wants to buy and where she wants to go; at this point it’s just her dragging you around hours on end 😭.

    the first stop is for her not for you, giving sheepish smiles as she waits in line for the new dress she pre-ordered.

    snags a bunch of food samples in front on the shop/stall shamelessly and skips away with you fretting over her actions.

    is ok tho she got you dem samples too 😋.

    matching outfits!! matching sweaters for winter, dresses for summer, etc etc <33 you both look so cute she has to snap a couple of dozen pictures.

    nobara is indecisive too! you sit hunched for what seems like hours in the changing stall while she tries on clothes from her massive pile.

    “i’m not sure about the fabric, seems too thick, no?”

    “then pick another one from your pile, we’ve already wasted so much time here” “but...i like how the colors compliment my skin tone.” you groan for the umpteen time, watching the way she poses in the mirror, feeling the fabric with such a concentrated look you’d think she would be fighting curses not deciding which dress to buy.

    “just buy the pale blue one, it’s my favorite.”

    “really? it did look good on me“ —you roll your eyes— “but i like this one too :(“

    “nobara”

    “should we try another one? ooh! maybe—“

    “nobara.”

    you both leave 10 minutes before the mall closes with way too many bags flooding our car.

    — ZENIN MAKI

    doesn’t complain vocally or anything, but she does roll her eyes when you continue to eye the same shirt for about five minutes.

    you goof around with try-on makeup with maki, ending up with bright lipstick smudged across your face, shimmering eyeliner on maki’s face and a employee not so far away looking a tad bit annoyed

    doesn’t judge what you buy !! and you love that she gives you her honest opinions and helps you pick a better option if needed

    stands in front of your changing stall like a full bodyguard

    she’s seen videos about cameras / people watching from the mirror so a bitch will break the glass if she has to 🤺 🤺

    you’re That couple who 14 year old girls fangirl over

    she tries to act normal but you don’t miss her tired gaze after a few hours of shopping

    claims that a kiss from you will recharge her

    you stumbled across panda and toge trying on onesie’s and maki never left a place faster

    @ theatre-miriko 2021 - all rights reserved.

    #nobara x reader #nobara kugisaki #nobara kugisaki x reader #kugisaki nobara x reader #jjk nobara x reader #jjk kugisaki nobara x reader #maki zenin x reader #maki zenin#zenin maki #zenin maki x reader #jjk maki x reader #jjk zenin maki x reader #jjk maki #jjk mei mei #mei mei x you #mei mei x reader #mei mei x fem!reader #mei mei smut #mei mei x y/n #jujutsu kaisen mei mei #mei mei fluff #mei #miriko! writes #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jjk fluff#jjkmag#jjk nobara
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  • cherylxxbombshell
    14.05.2021 - 10 minutes ago

    Proving a Point | Cheryl and Archer | 05.14

    Cheryl always enjoyed her time with Archer, but this particular scene had extra excitement added to it. She wore a red see through bra and a micro sheer red skirt and red heeled boots when she opened the door for archer. She reminded him of the rules: crawl unless given permission to walk, you do not touch me without permission, do not cum without permission, begging is always allowed. They got set up in her bedroom where she had plenty of toys and tools ready. She knew she didn’t have to start off gently with Archer, she she decided to start with the wooden paddle and cracked it across his ass 12 times until he was nice and red. She brought out the cane next, rubbing it across his ass, “what should you say to me for putting all this attention on you?” She asked evilly, cracking him across his full ass 3 times very quickly with the thin bamboo cane.

    @archer-clarington

    #para#p archer#archer#smut #proving a point
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  • gnfof
    14.05.2021 - 11 minutes ago
    #dreamwastaken smut#🧶 anon #it took me way too long to find that emoji LMAO #the feminism floating out my body when i talk about housewife kink #its crazy yall... it just leaves. its just gone #elle answers#+drm
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  • dirtytae
    14.05.2021 - 12 minutes ago

    my 2 am thoughts right now: So many songs inspired me to write Him and I. One is House of Cards I know the song is sexy but aside that, the song talks about a relationship that has no guarantee that it will work in the end, much like the message and stigma of the story. Miu and Taehyung's love will never be acceptable to the society and it's all in vain, but they still wanna be together. The sec is Stigma. IDK why, but it's talking about Taehyung's sin about him and his sister. OK BYE MY ASSIGNMENT IS WAITING LMAO

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  • shinmenu
    14.05.2021 - 18 minutes ago

    would you read it if i posted mtl(s)? 👀👀

    #i have some mtl prompts in my wips #from everytime i get an idea or smth #i love the prompts and all #thinking if they'll do well if i post them #bc reactions and fics do well ofc but mtls.... haven't seen a lot of those.... hmmmmmmmmmm #just don't want it to flop >< #stray kids smut #dl
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  • sweetkou
    14.05.2021 - 18 minutes ago

    hi i’m currently thinking about holding a vibrator to bokuto’s achingly hard dick until he comes in his pants

    #i saw one video on p*rnhub the other day and god it was this it was so hot #dndndjsb#blue talks#bokuto koutarou#haikyuu smut#bokuto smut #hed be so whiny and shit god i cant
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  • yourqueenunderthemountain
    14.05.2021 - 18 minutes ago

    "You are the Essence of the Essence...

    The Intoxication of Love..."

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  • macybeckham7
    14.05.2021 - 19 minutes ago
    #lewis hamilton smut #lewis hamilton
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