Can I just say. I’m so sick of phanfics using Phil being “not as attractive as Dan” as a plot point. Because it’s just simply not true. And I really hope Phil doesn’t see this shit and believe it himself because Phil Lester is one of the hottest men I’ve ever met. He demands attention with his tall legs and open smile. His hugs are warm and kind, and his eyes look right into yours when you’re speaking to him, making your brain go haywire and forget what you were even saying. Phil Lester is beautiful both inside and out and people should stop comparing him to Dan. They might have the same haircut and both be tall, but comparing them is like comparing an apple to a car- they aren’t even in the same category.
Just the idea of straddling Harry is so hot. His shoulders look broad. He has his shirt buttoned down, his biceps are defined, and his legs are spread open. The look on his face would be priceless because he knows you want him. And just feeling him hard under you would already have you soaked
He’s smirking, because he can feel how wet you are. There’s only two thin pieces of fabric separating the two of you - his boxers and your panties - and the feeling of your slick center rutting across his hard cock is driving him mad.
But he wants to tease you a bit, so his hands come to your hips to hold you in place, eliciting a whine from you because the friction was starting to really feel nice.
“Shhh, gonna make you feel good, pet. But I gotta get you on me; think you can ride me nice and slow, love? Wanna feel you slidin’ down on my cock.”
This was requested by anon:
If it’s not too much, could you do “Look into my eyes" with lucifer? Ily❤️❤️
Word count: 372
Lucifer walked into the bunker, brushing past Sam and Dean. They still weren’t used to seeing him around the bunker. He never cared for the Winchesters anyway. He cared for you though. You were the reason he came around all the time. Today was the day he was going to make sure that you knew his exact feelings.
When Lucifer slipped inside of your room, you were listening to music on your bed. Your eyes were closed, but you weren’t asleep by any means. As Lucifer sat down on your bed, crossing his legs, he could see that you had opened your beautiful eyes. He could look into them for hours on end.
You slid your headphones off of your head, raising an eyebrow at Lucifer. “Did you need something Lu,” you wondered, opening the drawer to your nightstand. It was where you kept the books he had gotten you since knowing you. They were mostly used for the cases you worked with the fallen archangel.
Have you seen the Snapchat of Jared's thighs in colourful Gucci pants? Some people have been saying that it makes them want to sit on his lap but I'm sitting here looking at the image wondering if my ample bottom will fit on there.
Oh my love, you mean to tell me you don’t think he can handle some ass and thighs? You don’t think he can handle some tummy and arms? My friend, you are so wrong.
He loves when you sit on his lap, he loves running his hands over your thighs giving you the occasional squeeze. He loves squeezing in your waist and you squirm as he tickles you. Once you get up he is always quick to throw you on the bed and hold your arms above your head, he trails kisses down each arm and moves to your neck, he bites down gently and you arch against him with a deep sigh. He uses his knee to push your legs open as he places himself between your thighs. He loves when your thighs wrap around him and pull him closer and burring him into you. His hands never leave your body, he loves every inch of you, he loves watching you squirm against him touch and watching your chest rise and fall with your moans. He praises your body and treats you like the goddess you are. In public he never lets his hand leave your back or waist, he is constantly claiming you and you know it. Jared loves when you sit on his lap, he loves touching you and watching the goosebumps appear on your skin letting him know he still has that touch. When you start grinding against him is when he really loses it, watching your ass and hips move against him, teasing him. He loves watching you move, dance, walk, anything where your ass is moving back and forth or your hips are swinging. You always catch him with his eyes focused on you and he always calls you back to him to take a seat right where you belong, on his lap.
“Dammit, Y|N!” I heard Jon groan. I laughed as I hid his cigarettes as well as myself in the closet. I slid down as far as I could against the wall and hid behind the clothes that were hanging up. I then heard Jon’s footsteps. “You are being childish. Can I please have my cigarettes? Wherever you are.” Jon sighed. I covered my mouth so I couldn’t let out a sound. I heard his footsteps getting closer to the closet. As soon as he opened the door, I ran under his legs and ran out of the room. “OH MY GOD, Y|N.” I then heard him running after me. I jumped over the couch and turned to look at Jon. He stood on the other side of the couch staring at me. “What am I dating? A five year old?” Jon asked. I laughed and smiled at him. I then showed him his pack of cigarettes. “Smoking is bad for you anyway.” I told him. Jon then rubbed his hand through his hair out of frustration and I could tell he was running out of patience. “I know it’s bad but I am still gonna smoke.” He replied in a monotone voice like he heard this many times before. “You know, I can call Callihan and he always is on my side.” Jon told me. I shrugged. “I’m not afraid of him.” I then stuck my tongue out at him. Jon rolled his eyes. “You still love me even though you are annoyed at me.” I told him. “I know.” Jon smirked. All of a sudden, he jumped over the couch and I tried running but he wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me back onto the couch. “Now, you aren’t going anywhere.” He said, kissing my cheeks. “Now give me my cigarettes.” He said. He put one arm over me and grabbed his cigarette pack. I wouldn’t let go. “Ugh, come on two year old. Let go.” Jon said, tugging on my hand. “Kiss me and I will let go.” I told him. “I would if you aren’t facing the other way.” Jon said. I turned my head and he gave me a kiss. This was when he let go and I jumped up. “Haha, tricked you!” I smirked before running off. “My girlfriend is so childish. I love her anyway.” Jon mumbled.
Prompt: Yaaaaaaaasssss requests back open!!! Could you please write a chekov fic where he’s running through the enterprise (“I can do zat” style) and crashes into something because he got distracted by a beautiful girl??
Word Count: 291 Warnings: Author’s Note: Cute little drabble! Edit: In my drafts the header didn’t show up so I made a new one quickly…sorry about the double lol
Finn Shelby x reader Word count: 1389 Warnings: THIS IS VERY DARK, mentions of smut, a lot of violence, some fluff, and swearing Request: Hey i love the fic you made, so thank you, i wad wondering if you could write something where Finn finds you hurt cuz you are in a relationship with him or something. Author’s note: I really like the way i wrote this one, let me know how you feel about it, i love feedback! :)
There she was, lying there pretty much lifeless. The love of your life, covered in blood eyes closed, chest not moving. So many people were rushing around her at this point. Polly grabbing towels pressing them to the open wounds, tears streaming down her face. She was screaming orders, but you couldn’t hear anything but the shallow sharp breaths (Y/N) was taking. John had her head rested on his leg trying to keep her awake, keep her eyes open. “The cars ready!” You saw Michael pick her up off the ground and rush her to the car. Everything was going in slow motion. Her new position showed off al her wounds. You sunk to your knees no longer feeling numb and let out a cry. You had never felt this type of pain. You couldn’t lose her. “Come on Finn,” Tommy said grabbing your shoulders, helping you up to your feet and finding your balance. “I’ve fucking lost her Tommy,” the words barely came out your mouth. Tommy hugged you showing you that he was there for support. And god knows you’d need it. She was your absolute rock and now her limp body was being rushed to hospital in the back of John’s car. “If we leave right now we’ll reach the hospital at the same time.”
“I have to go Finn,” you say as he nuzzles into your neck. “Stay,” he whispered in your ear sending goosebumps through your body. As much as this was a tempting offer. If you weren’t back in the house by the time your brother noticed you’d be dead meat. Even though you were 17 your brother was very protective and being friends with John and the rest of the boys meant he knew all too well what trouble the blinders brought around. You also knew how dangerous the men were, you’d been brought up with them. Your mum passed when you were just 5 and Aunt Pol helped your dad raise you and your brothers up. She treated yous like one of her own. “Finn,” you start to say before he cuts you off placing a kiss on your lips. You lean back giggling at the boy you loved trying so damn hard. “Listen i need to go, if George finds me not in my bed here is the first place he’ll be looking and we will both be in a lot of trouble.” Finn groaned pulling you closer to his chest and as much as it was tempting you knew you had to get home. When you eventually got out of his grip you started pulling on your clothes and jacket, he got up and started getting dressed too. “What do you think you’re doing?” “Walking you home.” “I don’t think so.” “It’s dark out, you shouldn’t be out on your own.” he said looking at you with a concerned expression. “I’ll be fine, I promise. It’s only the next street down” “But..” you cut him off by pressing your lips to his. He sighed already knowing there is no way he’d be winning this argument. “I love you (Y/N).” “I love you too Finn,” and with that, you turned and left out the door.
The streets were dark and you could see the steam of your hot breath against the cold air. The dark looked calming and gave her time to reflect on the day, but all she could think about was Finn. All of a sudden you saw a man peer round one of the back alleys that lead to the next street, when he saw you were looking he quickly dipped back behind the wall that was hiding him. His was bad news. You could already tell this man wasn’t a friendly passer by also walking around Small Heath at 5 in the morning. You quickly turned on your heels and started picking up the pace making your way back to the Shelby home. You could here quick footsteps behind you and you started to sprint, but this man was bigger and faster than you could ever be. He soon had his hands tightly round your shoulder and a sharp cold knife pressed up against your neck. You froze. You couldn’t shout or fight. Your life was in this mans hands. Tears started falling as the man turned you around and shoved you hard against the wall, you could feel your warm blood start to trickle down your neck where your head made contact with the wall. “Help! Help me! Help!” you shouted so desperately hoping that anyone could hear you. “Shut up!” the man yelled back putting his hand over your mouth and pushing your head back against the wall. You let out a shriek of pain as the gash on your head from the last blow was squeezed back against the wall. “Now little miss shelby,” The man hissed millimeters away from your face. “The fucking blinders killed my brother, killed my fucking brother.” The rage in this man’s eyes burned like flames he didn’t realise how hard he was pushing on your neck until you started to slump over. “Shit.” he muttered under his breathe. At this point you were seeing white and your head was pounding, but the man didn’t look like he wanted to kill you, you prayed that he didn’t want to kill you. He was still holding you up against the wall and you managed to lift your head to look at him. “Sorry,” you gasped out barely audible from how weak you were feeling, tears streaming down your face. The man looked you dead in the eyes, tears had started to brim in his own eyes. “I’m sorry too, but they have to pay, they have to lose someone like i lost someone.” You knew that there was little hope for you know. “Please,” you whispered as the man quickly shook off his emotions. “Please!” you screamed again hoping anyone could hear you. That’s when you saw a light turn on just to the right of you. John’s room. Hope. “Help! Help me! John! Help!” It took everything you had to scream and scream until eventually John was at the window, looking down in horror. You heard him start shouting frantically waking the house up. And that’s when it happened. A sharp, crippling pain right through your core, the man had plunges his knife into your stomach. He pulled it out and you dropped into his arm as he stabbed you one more time just next to the first. You could hear John scream and a gunshot go off as the knife was pulled out of your stomach you let out a small scream before your whole body gave in. You only saw white flashes and your vision was blurry, when you were picked up in John’s arms as the rest of the family came down to see the horror.
You arrived at the hospital the same time as (Y/N). Polly got out the car covered in blood and ran straight in to get a doctor while Michael and John tried to get (Y/N) out of the car without hurting her anymore. Her eyes weren’t open anymore, you ran over grabbing her hand. “(Y/N) if you can hear me know I love you, know we all love you. Just please please keep fighting” and with that she was whisked away into the hospital. You stood outside looking into the sky praying that she was ok. You became so worked up your heart started pounding and couldn’t catch your breath. Arthur was out by your side trying to calm you frown and handing you a hip flask. “This is all my fucking fault! I shouldn’t have left her alone!” You broke down sobbing when, (Y/N)’s brother pulled up infront of the hospital. When he saw how broken you were he also started to cry. “Where is she?” You couldn’t speak and Arthur was trying to get his words together. “Where fucking is she?!” “They’re operating on her, seeing what they can do, no one is allowed in.” And with that her brother ran threw the doors Arthur chasing after him. Leaving me alone. “I’m so so so sorry,” Finn whispered to the sky as the sun just started to rise. “I love you.”
A fic about: Body fluid,
disgusting things, and zero boundaries. And Van McCann.
Warning: I’m not joking. This is a fic
specifically about various body fluids ending up outside the body and on someone else. For reference: snot, spit, girl cum (what’s that liquid actually called?), vomit, and period blood.
Month 1. Soon after meeting Van, you were lying on a
couch with him, tucked under his arms. He had a laptop open on his legs and you
were watching random videos on YouTube. At the exact moment the dog turned
dramatically to the camera with its tongue hanging out, Van took a sip of tea.
In his laugh he spat the milky liquid all over you. Most of it came from his
nose. “I am so sorry!” he laughed, still hysterical but holding his
hand over his face. His snot was definitely in your mouth. You should have been
revolted, but you were amused and a little in love.
Daddy Washington rewarding his boys for being good all day with slow, loving handjobs
I will see this lovely image and counter with the image I am most obsessed with:
Washington giving the great reward of “allowing” a boy (or one boy after another) the chance to rub off and grind against his thigh while Washington pretends to read correspondence. I’m obsessed with that image, I’m never getting it out of my head.
Washington sitting at a desk, with his legs all spread wide open, but they’re sturdy enough for a boy to straddle one comfortably. A twink making themselves a disheveled mess as they grind while Washington looks like he’s barely breaking a sweat, like his jacket isn’t even getting a wrinkle. Washington reading a letter and doing nothing more than lifting his chin a little to make room when the boy on his lap, buries his face into his neck to muffle his whine. One hand holding up a letter to be read, the other oh, so magnanimously pressed against the small of his boy’s back to hold him steady, to encourage him.
Dally for the whole hc thingy please 💜 so sorry lol
What they smell like: Musk with a hint of aftershave (most likely Axe because yes, he’s gonna be that guy).
How they sleep (sleeping position, schedule, etc): Sprawled out. Literally however he falls into the bed, but he has to take up as much space as he can. Most of the time he’s on his stomach, his mouth open and drooling, and has his arms and legs punted out in seemingly impossibly directions (much like a starfish).
What music they enjoy: Rock. Electric guitars and bass and drums that rupture eardrums. It helps him get pumped, whether due to feeling so good that this just improves his mood further, or because he’s so angry that this just causes him to feed into his lividness more.
How much time they spend getting ready every morning: Under ten minutes. He doesn’t shower every morning, and he sleeps in jeans and no shirt, so all he has to do is find a shirt and take care of his hair. What takes the most time though, is always looking for his blade and heater to slip into his pockets.
Their favorite thing to collect: Cigarettes (don’t mind my blog name aye). No real reason, he just likes the smell and how he can always remember where he found them. The memories they hold always amuse him.
Left or right-handed: Right handed. He doesn’t round his letters, they’re always slanted and messy and like a font, because every one seems to never change.
Religion (if any): Deep down, he wants to believe that God exists. But nothing is ever going his way, though he understands if God has given up on him. He used to pray for other people, mostly the Curtis family, but now he feels he doesn’t deserve to pray. When he gets mad he says there is no God.
Favorite sport: Hockey. The fights on the ice is always one of his favorite parts. He can skate for hours and likes stopping fast so that it’ll kick up some snow. He shows off at every chance and often breaks his sticks.
Favorite touristy thing to do when traveling (museums, local food, sightseeing, etc): Seeing how much illegal shit he can get away with. His favorite partner to do this with is Two-Bit.
Favorite kind of weather: Rain. Storms even, he likes how he can feel the thunder pound in his heart and how it can be three in the morning and the lightning strikes will cause the world to light up again. The chance of destruction gets his attention a lot, too.
A weird/obscure fear they have: Not feeling emotions like others. He thinks he can’t feel what other people feel in the exact same way, or at least not as deeply as he should. He’s taught himself to be so shut off, and though he knows it’s for the best, he doesn’t like it.
The carnival/arcade game they always win without fail: Any game, but only because he’ll threaten the person behind the game.