#// they're so soft in their pyjamas i love it

[helloidkwhatimdoing-0]

Okay i really should go to sleep bc im so tired but also b4 i go to sleep i need to tell you all how comfy my pyjamas are bc HOLY SHIT

I got new ones as a late Christmas present and they are

AUGH

they're so comfortable i could cry tears of joy and thats only slightly an exaggeration— what the fuck 😭✨

I love them so much

[queerstudiesnatural]

kind of obsessed with the idea of dean and cas getting a house and sleeping in the same bed and building a normalcore life together, without ever officially getting together. cas comes back from the empty and dean hugs him, and after a few days he says they should get a house, so they do. they get a two bedroom and cas assumes it's so they each have their own room, but then dean picks one room as theirs, and says he thinks the other room will make a nice guest room for when sam and eileen/jack/claire come to visit. cas just goes with it. they always sleep in their pyjamas, and dean occasionally in his underwear when it's hot, so cas just figures they're friends who sleep in the same bed. dean has been so lonely his whole life, after all. dean sometimes puts on slow music and asks cas to dance, and cas is hesitant because he can't dance, but he figures dean needs casual touch and softness in his life, so he obliges. and then one day dean says "we should get married", and cas blue screens because he doesn't understand which need of dean's this is covering. his need for stability and family, perhaps, but he thought the house had been enough. so he just says "what?" and dean seems disappointed by that, and asks with a pout, "don't you want to?". cas is confused, but he answers honestly. "i do. i just don't understand why." dean seems confused too, but he presses on. "well, we've been together for almost a year now, and let's be honest we were basically together for twelve years before that, so i think it's time. plus i heard there are benefits, for like taxes and stuff. not that we pay that, but it could come in handy, i don't know." he searches cas' eyes, and cas' brain is going hold on a minute man. hold on a minute. dean asks again, "don't you want to?", and cas has to ask. "dean. when you say we've been together, what do you mean?" and dean is like, "i mean, like, dating? like a couple? right?" and when cas keeps looking at him with goldfish eyes he panics and goes, "oh god. haven't we? cas. we're together, right? i love you, you love me, all that? you haven't changed your mind on that, have you??" and cas about loses it like "what do you mean you love me??? when have you ever mentioned that?? dean, i thought we were just friends who lived together, i thought-" and now it's dean's turn to go "now hold on a minute man... you- what?? cas, we sleep in the same bed! we have breakfast together every morning! we've got a fucking garden!!" and cas just looks at dean stupidly and says, "but. we've never kissed? you sleep in your underwear! you've never said-" and he cuts himself off before he loses his damn mind because what??? so dean goes "oh. but you've been sleeping in pyjamas. and you've never tried to kiss me, or touch me. i tried it, with the dancing, but it was clear you were only doing it because i asked, so i didn't press it..." and cas does the goldfish bit a few more times before metaphorically shaking his head straight and saying "so, to clarify. we're a couple. and you think we should get married. and you want to kiss me?". dean laughs incredulously and says "yeah, pretty much. you okay with that?" and cas says yes. so dean kisses him. and wowza. cas would love to keep doing that forever. and well, apparently he can, because they're getting married.

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

Cherry.

Synopsis - The lines of friendship get a little blurry, one unassuming Friday night in December.

Pairing - Bestfriend!Steve Harrington x Female Reader

Warnings - smut. cursing. steve's got an ego, but for good reason.

Age Rating - 18+

Word Count - 2k

Author's Note - hi lovelies!! my first steve fic!! listen, I actually really didn't enjoy stranger things, but... I love this man. he's charming and he's a softie and he's such a good character to write. hope you enjoy this - it's got me all warm and fuzzy. please feel free to send me a christmas request if you fancy, I'm in the mood to write some seasonal fics. much love, always!! <3

as always, reblogs are the only way to circulate my fics!! please, if you enjoyed, consider reblogging this so it gets further reach. comments and feedback are always appreciated!! thanks, angels. <3

Part Two. Part Three. Part Four. Masterlist. Inbox. The Moodboard. Series Masterlist.

Three rocks ping off the panes of your bedroom window in quick succession.

You're applying your moisturiser in the mirror, winding down and almost ready for bed. Your reflection is illuminated by a faint glow from the fairy lights you've draped over the headboard for the festive season, warm and comforting. A soft, jazzy melody is drifting from the radio softly, a welcome noise to break up the silence.

Another rock hits your window.

You fly out of your seat and towards the source of the trouble, worried that he's going to throw one too hard one of these days.

"Steve," you hiss as you yank it open. "Cut it out. Just come through the door."

"Where's the fun in that?" he chuckles, eyes rife with mischief.

You roll your eyes but step back anyway, making room for him to climb the tree and dive through the window into your room.

"Hi, sugar."

"Hi, Steven."

He grins at you, bright and awake despite the late hour.

"Don't you have better plans on a Friday night, King Steve?"

"And miss out on seeing you in your little pink pyjamas? Absolutely not."

You shove at his chest, smacking him upside the head for good measure. He feigns pain and wraps his arms around your middle, picking you up off the ground and spinning you in circles. You shriek, and the sound makes him laugh.

"Okay, okay! I'm dizzy! Put me down!"

He obliges by throwing you unceremoniously onto your bed, smirking when you almost bounce off it.

"So," he begins, sitting down across from you. "How was it? Do you feel like a whole new woman?"

You scoff.

"What? That bad?"

"Yeah, that bad. We didn't even do it."

He quirks a brow in curiosity, tilting his head to look at you.

"I thought tonight was the big night?"

"Yeah, it was supposed to be. But he was kissing me, and it just didn't feel... right? He started grabbing at me and I realised that you can only lose your virginity once - and that definitely wasn't how I wanted to lose mine."

You shrug, trying to play indifference, but Steve can see the hurt in your eyes.

"You always deserved so much better than him."

"Thanks, Steve."

"Come on, Cherry. The guy is an asshole who happens to be attractive. His face is the only thing he's got going for him."

The mention of your childhood nickname has memories of fruit flavoured popsicles on summer days flooding back. Laughter by the pool, pushing Steve in and screeching when he dragged you with him, staying out in the sun until you were both exhausted. Cherry. You've always been Steve's Cherry, for as long as you can remember. You still wear the lip balm he bought you last year, fitting for your moniker.

"You didn't like him from the start. Actually, you've never liked any guy that has ever liked me."

"Because they're not good enough for you."

"Says who?"

"Says me."

"And you're the boss of me and my love life now?"

"I'm the person that knows you better than anyone in the entire world. I think I have a pretty good view on things."

You huff, but accept your defeat in knowing that he's right. No one knows you like him. Steve always does this. He pisses you off, but makes you love him a tiny bit more each time.

He grabs your foot from the bed, pressing his thumbs into your sole. You relax instantly, tired of half arguing with him.

"I give up."

"With what?"

"Dating. Fuck it."

He chuckles, rubbing soothing patterns into your ankle gently.

"You've barely even started."

"Ooo, sorry Mr Womaniser."

"Stop it," he chides, pinching your calf. "Maybe The One for you just isn't in Hawkins. This place has always been too small for us anyway."

"Yeah, maybe. It'll all change when we go to college, hopefully."

"Exactly. It'll be a whole different ball game. There'll be tonnes of hot guys begging for your attention."

"And you'll be fighting them off."

"Yes I will."

You laugh, poking him in the chest with your foot teasingly.

"And maybe the college guys will actually know what they're doing in bed."

"Hey, some of us do know!"

"Yeah yeah, Steve's good in bed. I've heard it all before."

"Don't be jealous, Cherry baby."

"Jealous isn't quite the word I'd use."

"No?"

He drops your foot and scoots closer, settling in between your parted legs.

"You're not even a little bit curious what all the rumours are about?"

"Steve," you laugh. "I think they're probably just exactly that. Rumours."

He inches in towards you, so his forehead is almost touching yours. Running his fingers up and down the outside of your thigh, he takes a deep breath in.

"You should let me show you just how much I know. We're not all clueless, Cherry. I'm confident I could make you feel good."

You exhale with a shudder.

"I'm not letting you take my virginity, Steve."

"I don't want to. There's a thousand ways I can make your legs shake without fucking you, baby."

You stare into his big doe eyes, admiring the way a single strand of hair has fallen across his forehead. You look for a shred of doubt, or amusement, but all you see is love. Admiration. Trust. Sincerity.

"Okay," you breathe, before your mind has truly processed what you're saying. "Show me what you got, Harrington."

He grins, slow and saccharine, like the cat who got the cream.

"Steve?" you whisper.

"Yeah?"

"This isn't going to fuck things up between us, is it?"

He smiles, big and bright.

"Never. Nothing is ever going to fuck things up between us. It's you and me forever, Cherry Pie."

You chuckle at the nickname, stroking his cheek with your thumb.

"Well, then what are you waiting for?"

He shakes his head and grabs your ankle, pulling you across the bed and into his body. Wrapping a hand around the back of your neck, he leans in, pressing his forehead to yours.

"If at any point this gets weird, or you don't like it... Just say the words, okay?"

"Okay," you breathe, inhaling the scent of mint from his tongue. "Promise."

"Can I kiss you?"

"You don't usually ask," you tease.

It's no secret that you and Steve have kissed a few times. Once after prom, once at a party here and there, once when you were cuddled in bed comforting him after a break up. But it's never led to anything more. Which is probably why this feels a little different.

"I know, but this is a little more... intense, than usual."

You try to ignore the way your heart swells at his consideration for you, and nod your head gently.

"Kiss me. Please."

Steve wastes no time, leaning in to press his lips to yours. He tastes like spearmint and soda, with a hint of the cherry lipbalm he steals from your nightstand. You instinctively shuffle closer to him, straddling his lap as his arms bracket themselves around you. It's like he can't decide where to put his hands - they're roaming up your back, squeezing your ass, kneading your thighs. He's antsy and impatient, eager to feel you.

"Lie back," he whispers against your mouth, tipping you onto the bed.

Your head hits your pillows and you crane your neck to watch him as he crawls down your body, eyes never leaving yours.

"Steve-"

"Stop thinking so hard, Cherry. I can practically hear your thoughts."

You huff but can't keep the smile off your face, willing your mind to stop racing.

"Let me quiet things down, hmm?"

Steve presses a gentle kiss to the inside of your knee, trailing up and up until he reaches your hip. He licks across your hipbone before nipping it with his teeth, smirking when you gasp.

Grasping the waistband of your pyjama shorts, he asks for permission with his eyes, no words needed. You nod and lift your hips, letting him slide them down your body.

You've never been so exposed, which is causing a sudden realisation that the two of you are crossing a line that can never be uncrossed. As if he can read your mind, Steve presses a kiss to the inside of your thigh, tender and full of love.

"Babe, if you want to stop..."

"I don't, I promise. I'm just nervous. I'm sorry."

"Don't apologise," he murmurs, resting his head on your thigh and looking up at you. "Never apologise. You're doing so good, Cherry. I love you."

You didn't know what you were expecting, but it wasn't I love you. You've both said it to each other a million times, but something about saying it in this exact moment makes it feel... weighted. You'll talk about it later. You'll make sure of it.

"I love you too. So much."

You're whispering, scared to ruin the peace you've created. Steve kisses your skin again gently, gazing at you like you've hung the stars just for him.

"Let me make you feel good, okay?"

When you nod, Steve nudges your core with his nose, arms wrapping around your thighs to keep you anchored in place.

"So pretty," he's mumbling. "Prettiest fuckin' girl I've ever seen."

He starts slow, easing you in carefully. Kitten licks and gentle nips, testing the waters. When you tangle a hand into his hair and tug, Steve gets the message.

"You want more, pretty baby?"

"Yes," you confirm, more breathless than intended. "Please."

He dives back in, this time with more intention. His nose keeps nudging your clit, the friction licking up your spine deliciously. It's like he can't get enough, eating you out like a man starved.

He groans into your heat, the vibrations making you whine. When he curls his tongue just right, you keen, the sounds leaving your mouth foreign to the both of you.

"Fuck, you sound so beautiful. You're perfect. God, you're perfect."

"Stevie," you pant. "So close."

"I got you. Atta girl, I got you. That's my girl, give it to me."

Maybe it's the my girl, or maybe it's the way he's slipped two fingers into you, but the coil snaps. Your back arches off the bed as white heat engulfs your body, vision going black for a moment. You can hear him talking you through it, loving and encouraging. Eventually, your grip on his hair loosens as you go lax, collapsing back against the comforter.

Steve grins at you as he licks his fingers clean, crawling up your body to kiss you. You groan when you taste yourself, arms wrapping around his shoulders to keep him close. Resting his head on your chest, you run your fingers through his hair, humming gently when he relaxes.

"You okay?"

"Never better," you laugh. "You're good with your mouth, Harrington. I'll give you that."

"Told you the rumours were true."

You shake your head and reach over, grabbing the glass of water from your nightstand and taking a sip. You offer it to Steve without a second thought, rolling your eyes when he downs the rest.

He plucks your cherry lipbalm from the drawer and applies it to himself, before leaning up to carefully do the same to you. He pecks your lips sweetly before returning it to its rightful place.

"You replace it, don't you?"

"Hmm?"

"The chapstick. I've had it for a whole year, and I've never even come close to reaching the end."

He blushes as he looks at you, suddenly bashful.

"It's special," he murmurs. "It's our thing, you know? And it smells good. I like knowing that I'm the only one who knows you taste like cherries."

You want to poke fun at him, say something to make him laugh. But you can't. He's rendered you speechless, for the second time in one night.

"I like knowing the reason you taste like spearmint is because I've been slipping pieces of gum into the pockets of your jeans for ten years."

"I knew it," he laughs, leaning up to kiss you firmly. "I can't tell you the last time I bought gum."

"You're welcome."

Steve shucks off his jeans and his shirt, climbing into your bed with just his boxers on. You slip your underwear up your legs before getting under the comforter with him, tangling your limbs with his.

The tunes from the radio still hum gently as the fairy lights flicker.

The room is unchanged.

The people in it are not.

read Part Two here. Part Three here. Part Four here.

@lillian-gallows @bookish-embroidery-witch @sweetdazequeen @fruityforcocoapuffs @steviespookie @livsters @diffrent-spokes @violet2022 @mrsjoequinn @valerievortex @chrrymunson

[horrorhot-line]

xavier's nsfw alphabet

➵ pairing: xavier x female!reader

➵ word count: 2.3k

➵ genre: nsfw

➵ warnings: minors dni. this post is pure smut, no plot here. cockwarming, breeding kink, slight exhibitionism, sex toys, edging.

➵ summary: pretty self explanatory, the nsfw alphabet on your favourite boy.

➵ zayne's ver. | rafayel's ver.

➵ masterlist  (requests are open)

horrorhot-line © 2024. all rights reserved.

notes: true to the poll, i will be doing xavier first, while i work on any other oneshot, i hope this keeps you fed ;)

also anon, if you see this, the zayne one is on its way dw &lt;3333

credit to @multi-fandom-imagine for the template

➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵       ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵

➵ a for aftercare (what is he like after sex?) it takes it out of him completely, pounding your pussy and making sure you're satisfied. so unless you tell him to get up specifically, he'll stay balls deep inside you until he goes soft, letting your warmth and twitching body lull him to sleep. "5 more minutes…"

➵ b for body part (his favourite body part of his and also his partner's) he likes his arms- toned biceps that are the perfect handle for you when he's stuffing you with his cock. he loves watching you struggle underneath him, knowing he's the only one you'd cling to so desperately. his favourite body part when it comes to you has to be your boobs. if it were tits or ass for him, he'd choose the former any day of the week; xavier loves squeezing your nipples between his fingers, cupping them in his hands as he fucks you. he loves the way they bounce when he's pounding away at your stretched pussy. that, and they're the perfect pillow for when he's done with you, letting your heartbeat soothe him as he drifts off to sleep. "so perfect- you're beautiful, you know that?"

➵ c for cum (anything to do with cum, basically) xavier loves plugging your sopping cunt when he finally cums inside you, loves the way your body twitches under him, spent with how many orgasms he's pulled out of you, pussy spasming around him as he pumps his dick into you a few more times, making sure every last drop ends up inside you. he'll leave his dick in, ignoring the cum staining the sheets, your slick covering his thighs as he wraps his arms around you as he goes for a short nap. "i'll clean the mess up in a bit, don't worry."

➵ d for dirty secret (self-explanatory, a dirty secret of his) he won't admit it; he doesn't have to because you eventually figure it out. xavier loves edging you, slowing down his thrusts right as you're about to cum, so he can string your orgasm along and have you seeing stars. he loves the way your eyes roll back when he starts pounding into you again, his headboard slamming against the wall as he fills you up. "not yet, baby- just a little more. i promise i'll make you feel so good."

➵ e for experience (how experienced is he? does he know what he's doing?) he's not that experienced, of course not. how could he be when he's saved all his firsts for you? that doesn't matter, though; he makes up for what he lacks by being a quick learner. the first time he fucks you, it's nice and slow, has you craving for more, and the minute you manage to moan, "please," and "faster", he picks up the pace, drilling his dick into your cunt and swallowing your whimpers as his lips latch onto yours. "like this, princess?"

➵ f for favourite position (this goes without saying. will probably include a visual) he loves spoon fucking you. the number of times he's been cuddling you, and you readjust (innocently, of course), rubbing your ass across his dick one too many times. he slips his cock out of his pyjama pants, grinding into you to let you know he's in the mood as he pulls your panties aside. he rubs his cock against you, coating his tip in your slick before he pushes his dick into you inch by inch. he fucks you like this most nights, one hand wrapped around your stomach, the other squeezing your tit as he trails kisses across your nape. "so good- 'm gonna cum."

➵ g for goofy (is he more serious in the moment, or is he humorous, etc) he's not serious during sex, but he isn't goofy, either. he's laid back and mostly focuses on your needs, chasing your orgasm, angling his hips just right until he finds that one spot that has you sobbing. "does that feel good?"

➵ h for hair (how well groomed is he, does the carpet match the drapes) he's well groomed, it's not bushy. it's too much work taking care of it every day, so he shaves every other time he showers. better for you, since when he's balls deep inside you, you can feel his stubble against your clit, and fuck does it feel good. he'll shave the minute you ask him to, no questions asked. "it's not too hairy, is it?"

➵ i for intimacy (how is he during the moment, romantic aspect…) he's the romantic type, when both of you have time, he'll set up candles, greet you with flowers at the door, and carry you to bed bridal style before gently laying you down. he'll trail kisses down your body, tongue edging your clit until you're begging for him, and that initial first thrust has both of you moaning. "let me make love to you tonight, princess."

➵ j for jacking off (masturbation headcanon) he doesn't do it often and doesn't see the need to. he'd much rather stay horny, letting his balls fill up, saving it all for you so when he finally has his way with you, you're looking all cute and exhausted, leaking his cum. "you look so pretty like this, taking every inch. yeah? you feel good?"

➵ k for kink (one or more of his kinks) he's very vanilla to begin with. mostly because he doesn't know what he wants. after a while though, you suspect he does have a few kinks. one of them being- he has a breeding kink. the amount of times he's thought out loud in front of you, telling you how pretty you'd look with a baby bump. and you definitely don't miss when he makes sure no cum leaks out of you once he's done; he'll either stuff you full of his cock or his fingers, falling asleep with either still inside. also, he loves cockwarming, and nothing will convince you otherwise. he loves the warmth your pussy provides for his dick, and the way he has the best naps when he's buried inside you. "just a little longer…"

➵ l for location (favourite places to do the do) your apartment or his, he doesn't mind. as far as xavier's concerned, it's free reign. though, he does enjoy bending you over his balcony, being an s-class senior hunter means he has the paycheck to afford a penthouse. he'll slide your panties to the side on the days you wake up before him to enjoy the morning sun, and he'll nudge your legs apart before angling himself into you, raising your thigh over the glass fence so his tip kisses your cervix. you love the thrill of anyone seeing you and the added security that he won't let you fall. "so tight, you like the risk that much?"

➵ m for motivation (what turns him on, gets him going) honestly? touch his dick and find out. he's not an overly horny individual, but just one touch from you, one sultry look, and he's ready to go. towering over you as you shoot him a smirk, peeling his shirt off and discarding it in the corner as he pulls you across the bed to him by your ankle, "stop teasing me."

➵ n for nicknames (what are his favourite pet names for you? what does he call you when you're both alone?) princess is his favourite, it's the one he uses most often when he's balls deep inside you, hand underneath your shirt squeezing your tit, lips trailing kisses along your neck and leaving goosebumps in their wake as he pumps his cum into you. he calls you baby occasionally, but he prefers calling your name, whispering it alongside praises of how good you feel, when he's fucking into you.

note: if you know his backstory you'd understand the first nickname, i am on my knees sobbing and begging

➵ o for oral (preference in giving or receiving, skills, etc) he's okay with either, doesn't have a prefrence because he prefers filling you up with his cock. though, his dick does twitch when you offer to give him a blow job, and he makes sure to return the favour. he adores it when you grab his hair and force his face closer to your cunt. "enjoying yourself?"

➵ p for pace (is he fast or rough? slow or sensual?) this one is obvious, he's slow when he fucks you, lazily humping you from behind as he holds you close. he loves the way you squirm beside him, grinding on his cock, signalling for him to speed up. he'll roll his hips into yours, letting his dick hit all the right spots, teasing you as he slowly pulls out, leaving just the tip in. "begging for more, baby? tell me how you want it."

➵ q for quickies (his opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc) he's ready to go if you are; all you have to do is palm him through his pants and give him that look that says, 'i need you to fuck me, and i need you to do it now.' he'll blink, before taking your hand and leading you to the closest secluded place before he's balls deep inside you, "couldn't wait until we got home, princess?"

➵ r for risk (is he game to experiment, does he take risks, etc) if it makes you happy, he's up for experimenting when it's something you're interested in, and it isn't unreasonable. he just can't find it in himself to say no when you put your hand on his thigh and give him those eyes, it couldn't hurt to give in to your whims, "if that's what you want, my love."

➵ s for stamina (how many rounds can he go for, how long does he last) he definitely has stamina, not breaking a sweat as he snaps his hips into you, slowing down as he lowers his chest to meet yours, hand on your head to hold you in place as he sets a brutal pace that pushes you over the edge. that doesn't change the fact that he loves his sleep, and as you come down from your high, you realise that. you're still twitching at the way he's lazily humping you, cum leaking out of you as he snores softly. he tries his best to last longer than you, letting you get your release first, but the odd times he doesn't, he'll grind into you until you finish, twitching from how sensitive he is as he lets out hushed moans next to your ear.

➵ t for toy (does he own toys? does he use them? partner or himself?) he owns just one- a vibrator he got off the internet by accident, having thought it could massage his fingers, and you couldn't hold in your laughter when he showed it to you, confused as to why it didn't do its job properly. when you were done explaining that it was a sex toy and what it was used for, you enjoyed the lost look on his face and the initial realisation of what it was until he got an idea. you moved back, suddenly scared at what his smug expression implied, "who knew you'd like it this much, princess? look at how wet you are- good thing we found a use for it, hm?"

➵ u for unfair (how much does he like to tease) xavier is unfair, and not in the way you'd think. he has no idea the effect he has on you, hands on your thighs underneath tables when the two of you are on dates, palm on the small of your lower back as you walk the streets, hands finding yours, tracing his thumbs on the back of your hand when he's looking something up on his phone, and those eyes, fuck those eyes really did you in. you're horny 24/7 around him, hyperaware he's there, and that he's yours, you end up asking him to help you. "how did you get this wet, baby? i didn't do anything this time."

➵ v for volume (how loud is he? what sounds does he make?) he's not that vocal; he's on the quiet side, but he knows how to make up for it. the initial moan he lets out when he's slipping his dick in, inch by inch, is music to your ears. he'll bury his face in your neck or place his head beside yours so you can hear his soft groans.

➵ w for wildcard (random headcanon for him) he will listen. you think it's the best thing about him. you have one problem, little or big, you have one tiny complaint, and it's fixed, he'll ask you what you need, and it's done. you want him to touch you more often, want him to spend more time with you, want him to do the dishes when you've had a rough day, it's done, no questions asked. you think he's the sweetest for this, he's definitely a golden retriever boyfriend.

➵ x for x-ray (what's going on in those pants of his) he's not the girthiest, but his dick is long and hits all the right spots. you do realise one day though, that his cock bends slightly to the left, no wonder he has you seeing stars. his v-line is to die for; you love it when he wears grey sweats, the band of his briefs slightly visible as he stretches, and his light blonde happy trail leading down to…

➵ y for yearning (how high is his sex drive) he's more into the romantic aspect of the relationship, having lived as long as he has, he's just happy he has you by his side. but if you tease him… grinding as you sit on his lap, your soaked panties and his pants between the two of you, and he watches you trying to get off, it's all over for you. "you know i can't say no to you."

➵ z for zzz (how quickly does he fall asleep afterwards)immediately, he is knocked out, feeling safe in your arms as you trace circles into his back and rub your hands through his hair, he's sleeping like a rock. the one time the two of you forgot to say 'i love you's' to each other before bed, you had muttered those three words when you had realised, and your half-hearted strokes across his shoulder stopped when he mumbled them back, still asleep.

[finelinefae]

rose [tattooH x innocenty/n]

synopsis: Harry's a tattoo artist who can't figure out the best way to say how in love he is with the flower shop owner next door

word count: 10.5k

content warnings: smut (first time oral f recieving, daddy kink, praise kink, virgin Y/N), brief mentions of violence

read part 1 here

this is a lot !! like a lot happens !! also everyone smiles a lot,, i can't help it they're happy

. . .

Harry had come to the conclusion that of all the things he had had to do in his twenty-six years of life - all the things he had to do and say to get where he was today - saying I love you to his girlfriend was proving to be one of the most intricate tasks he had encountered.

And it wasn't because he didn't love her. From the moment she stepped into his tattoo shop with determination and fear all intertwined into one expression right up until now, he was pretty sure his relationship with Y/N was the physical embodiment of what it meant to be loved and to love in return.

He had learnt so much about the sweet, pretty girl next door. From her little habits and small quirks that she didn't think he ever noticed.

Y/N loved wearing Harry's clothes. He had bought a new band tee from an online shop one of his friends had recommended to him. When the parcel hadn't arrived on time, he wondered if it had gotten lost in transit or they'd delivered it to the wrong address. He had emailed them once or twice to see its whereabouts only to find the Fleetwood Mac t-shirt on the body of his girlfriend asleep on his sofa when he came home from work. "But Harry, they're so soft and comfy!" She argued when he accused her the next morning. "Know that baby but I need clothes to wear." He was trying not to smile and pinch her cheeks when he caught a glimpse of her pouty lips. "But Harry-" He couldn't help but interrupt her with a quick kiss to her lips, "Can use some of my old shirts flower, y' can pick them out. C'mon sweet girl," He led her to his wardrobe and let her scramble through the box of his old shirts.

She loved being praised. Harry thought it was the cutest thing ever when he'd compliment her or tell her how good she was for him and her cheeks would turn a dusky pink colour. He'd often find himself kissing the crescent moon-shaped dimples on her cheeks whenever she'd beam up at him after he mumbled sweet praises into her ear, "M' good girl," He'd say, "Best girl, m' favourite flower."

She loved physical touch from him and him only. His favourite time of day was coming home after a busy day of working and finding his darling girl sitting up in bed, either reading or watching TV, waiting for him in his favourite soft, satin pyjamas she wears (he loved the feel of them under his hands whenever he held her). She'd make grabby hands for him as soon as she saw him walk through the door of her bedroom, wanting to touch him almost immediately. He'd kiss her a few times, run his fingers through her hair, stroke her cheek and brush his fingers over her arm. Even when they were walking through the streets of the town, Y/N would often cling to Harry - feeling anxious being around too many people. He'd comfort her with soothing touches, rubbing circles on the pulse point on her wrist to make sure she was okay.

There were so many things Harry had come to adore about his favourite girl in the entire world. From the way she'd look at him with big rounded eyes as though he hung up the moon and stars in the sky or knew the answer to everything she asked, to the way she'd melt under his touch whenever they'd do something even slightly intimate. He was so in love... He just didn't know how to tell her that.

Harry had never been in a serious relationship before so the idea of love didn't come easy to him. He had spent the majority of his life believing he was destined to be lonely, finding himself in one-night stands and never getting past the first date for lack of connection. He didn't know what romantic love looked like, felt like or even if it existed at all until he met his favourite flower. 

Moments would crop up where he could feel the first syllable spike the tip of his tongue but invisible hands wrapped themself around his neck as he tried to let the words out. Y/N would sit patiently, waiting for him to continue speaking, but he'd just end up kissing her, hoping he could communicate his words without saying them.

He wasn't quite sure what he was expecting when it came to saying those three simple words, words that carried so much weight between them. Maybe it was because he wanted the moment to be special and memorable for her, so he waited for the perfect opportunity to confess. But the anticipation was driving him a bit crazy.

It was very early Wednesday morning. Y/N was cutting up sheets of tissue paper since it was nearing winter and people would be out buying gifts soon for their loved ones. She had ordered a bunch of new seed packets and planned to make little gift sets to sell.

Harry was sitting at the workshop table in the middle of the shop. He was wearing his shorts and a black hoodie with the hood pulled over his head. He wore his worn-out, white Vans as if they were slippers, with the left shoe dangling precariously from his toes, threatening to slide off at any moment. His tired eyes tried to remain focused on counting the coins for Y/N's till since she always miscalculated and would have to go visit him for more money even though his shop was cashless which he reminded her every time as he slipped her a five-pound note from his own back pocket.

The shop was silent in the early hours of the morning as the two worked separately. Y/N enjoyed that she didn't constantly have to make conversation with her boyfriend for him to be interested. They were happy to just be in each other's company for as long as possible.

"Baby," Harry's raspy voice broke the comfortable silence between them. Y/N's head lifted naturally in response, "C'mere." He opened his arm out but his eyes were still trained on counting the coins.

Y/N smiled tiredly and walked over to him, tucking herself into his side and holding onto the arm that wrapped around her. He kissed the top of her head, "Didn't get to hold y' this morning, left me cold." He murmured against her.

"M sorry, H. It's always stressful when the season changes." She sighed, thinking about all the work she still had yet to do before autumn passed.

"S okay, just missed you is all." He hummed. Y/N turned herself so she was pressed against the worktop and looking up at him. She loved every version of Harry at all times of day but something about Harry in the morning made her swoon. He was so soft and cuddly, needy and grabby, she'd always have to pry his hands off of her in the morning so she could get to work on time.

Y/N grinned and leaned her head forward, past the hood of his sweatshirt, to kiss him. "Wanted to ask you if y’ would come on a date with me this Saturday.” He whispered, eyes still closed from kissing her.

Every eight weeks, Y/N’s shop would close for the entire weekend. Since her shop was open most days, she wanted to give herself at least some time off to look forward to. Harry knew that particular weekend was coming up because of how much she was looking forward to it so he made sure to free up his weekend too so he could take her out for the day. 

They had been on dinner dates and done a few other things here and there but there was only so much they could do in their small town. So as soon as he thought of the idea, he booked train tickets to take Y/N to the coast for the day. 

“Hmmm,” Y/N sighed, reaching into his hood to wrap her arms around his neck, his skin warm against her touch. “Where would we go?”

“S a surprise,” He whispered into her ear, his breath warm. 

“I’d love to go on a date with you Harry,” She replied, voice soft. 

“Yeah? It’ll be cold so you’ll need to wear a sweater.” He told her. 

"I only own sweaters," She rolled her eyes, pushing away from him so she could get back to work.

"Yeah, my sweaters." Harry teased.

Y/N narrowed her eyes, "Get back to counting those coins or you'll be fired."

"Yes ma'am," He couldn't stop smiling to himself as he carried on counting each penny.

. . .

The small train was busy on the way to the coast on Saturday morning but luckily they had managed to grab two seats next to each other by the window. Y/N insisted that they listened to one of the very many playlists she had curated for them both to listen to. It wasn’t long into their relationship that Harry had come to realise that music was one of Y/N’s love languages. 

He remembered when he first moved in and heard her music through the walls of her apartment as he bought his food shopping up the stairs his first night. The music played well into the night and he had planned to knock on her door and ask her to turn it down like she had done to him the day they had first met, but his ears caught onto her singing. He pressed his ear up against the door and listened as she sang to herself whilst dishes clinked together. She wasn’t the best singer he had ever heard but something about her soft voice soothed him, so he turned around and went about his night with the girl singing next door. 

Y/N pulled out her wired earbuds not long after they’d sat down and gave one of them to Harry. After Hours by The Velvet Underground started playing and Harry smiled to himself as he watched Y/N gaze out the window of the train. He reached for her hand which was covered by her fingerless gloves she had crocheted herself and intertwined their fingers together. 

The train pulled into the final station an hour later. Harry held tightly onto Y/N as people bustled to get on and off the train at the same time. The weather wasn’t perfect when they had arrived - slightly overcast and grey - but it didn’t stop Y/N from gasping at the sight of the ocean in front of her. 

“Harry look!” She pointed as the waves rolled into the shore. She looked adorable in her white hat and earmuffs, her white puffer coat made her look like a giant marshmallow. She was almost matching Harry, in his black puffer coat and green bobble hat. 

“Y/N! Slow down baby,” He called for her as he ran to catch up with her. 

They walked down the steps and onto the beach which was practically void of any people other than a few dog walkers. He was thankful he had told her to wear a thick coat since the wind was bitter and cold. Harry’s smile was so wide, that his dimples pierced each one of his cheeks as he watched her run around in her UGG boots and leggings. 

“Beautiful,” Harry whispered, hoping the words would get caught in the wind and blow straight to her so she could hear them. 

“It’s been so long since I’ve seen the sea,” She closed her eyes and inhaled the fresh sea air. Harry came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. 

They walked side by side with each other. Harry held Y/N’s hand inside the pocket of his coat and every once in a while, she would stop to pick up a shell which she would pass to him to put in his other coat pocket. At some point, it started to drizzle down with rain but they carried on walking and talking along the beach. 

Harry would watch as Y/N ran up to the sea to pick up bits of sea glass and try to not get caught by the water. She looked adorable as she ran up the beach looking back at him with her woolly hat and giant coat swamping her. Strands of hair stuck to her damp, rosy cheeks as rain dripped from her coat since they had been out so long. He pulled out his phone and snapped a picture of her as she crouched down to look at something she’d found in the sand. He made a mental note to share it on everything he possibly could so everyone in his life would know how much he loved her, even if she didn’t know just yet. 

Harry swore he was going to tell her he was in love with her right there and then but his heart fell out of his chest when he watched her trip and stumble back onto the sand. “Y/N,” He rushed over, immediately wanting to check if she was okay, only to be met with her giggling and laying back on the sand like a starfish on land. 

“Lay here with me,” She patted the spot next to her. 

The last thing Harry wanted to do was get his new black trousers wet and dirty from the sand but he would do anything and everything she asked him to do so he fell onto the sand and laid right next to her. 

His pinky finger hooked with hers as they both looked up at the sky, “Are you happy flower?” He asked.

“I think this is the happiest I’ve ever been in my life,” She confesses and the words make Harry’s heart grow ten times the size. “I think spending time with you is when I’m the happiest Harry.”

When it reached past midday, Harry took Y/N to grab something to eat before they had to take the train home again. Their coats were dripping when they stepped inside the small cafe Harry had picked out for them. The kind owner had even offered to dry them both for them before they had to leave again. 

“Harry,” She gasped, “They do blueberry pancakes!” 

Harry smirked, not wanting to tell her that he had picked this cafe specifically because they made one of Y/N’s favourite foods, “Really? Tha’s your favourite right baby?”

She nods, “I’m gonna get that- ooo it even comes with the option of honey or syrup!” Y/N beams. 

By the time their food had arrived, they were well invested in conversation, “Was thinking of getting my ear pierced next weekend. One of my mates has free space and thought it would be fun to get a hoop or something.” Harry tells her. 

Y/N paused on chewing her pancake as she pictured her boyfriend with a hoop earring. She swallowed down her food before getting out, “That would be hot.”

Harry laughs at her bluntness, “Yeah?” He smirked, “You think so?” Y/N nodded, her cheeks tinged pink. 

Although they kissed and made out at any spare moment they could, they hadn’t really branched out from the time Harry had touched her for the first time. Y/N knew Harry was trying to be patient about it - he was a gentleman like that - but she was going crazy not having his ring-clad hands touching her skin, providing that ecstasy he had given her a glimpse of for the first time.  

“Y alright there flower?” Harry crooned, “Anything on your mind you’d care to share.”

Y/N shook her head, ridding them of her dirty thoughts, “M okay, H.” 

“Alright,” His eyes twinkled as he smiled at her, “You look beautiful by the way.”

“Thank you, Harry,” Her eyes softened, “And thank you for bringing me here today, I’ve loved being here with you.”

Harry parted his lips as if to respond, but found himself speechless, the words trapped somewhere in his throat. Y/N looked at him expectantly, her eyes silently urging him to express whatever was on his mind. With a sigh, his shoulders slumped, and he finally spoke, "I've loved being here with you too. I love every moment I get to be with you." Y/N beamed as Harry inwardly cursed himself for being unable to articulate the depth of his feelings. Yet, as he saw the radiant smile spread across Y/N's face, he couldn't help but feel a surge of warmth and contentment wash over him, knowing that his words were enough to reach her for now. 

After the train journey home, which took slightly longer than anticipated, Harry carried Y/N up to her apartment and into her bedroom where he slumped her down on her bed. Y/N hummed at the feeling of her warm, cosy sheets beneath her. “Comfy m’love?” He grinned, tugging the sleeves of his coat off so he was just in his white t-shirt and black trousers. 

“I’m so sleepy,” Y/N sighed, eyes closed whilst Harry tugged her shoes off as her feet dangled over the edge of the bed.

“Cause you’ve been running around all day huh? Could barely keep up with you half the time.” Harry briefly massages the souls of her feet after taking both her shoes off, knowing they were probably aching from running on the beach all day.

“But it was sooo much fun,” Y/N whined, her tired eyes peering down at Harry.

“Yeah, yeah, I know that lovie. Need to get y’ out of these clothes so I can put them in the wash.” He tugs on her leggings.

“Can you do it?” Y/N asks, “M too tired.”

Harry pauses, “Y’ sure baby? Don’t want y’ to be uncomfortable.” 

“M sure Harry, I trust you.” She tells him.

He smiles to himself as her words settle in the space between them. A smile curves his lips almost involuntarily, reflecting the quiet gratitude he feels towards her trust.  “Alright, lift y’ hips for me, flower.” He instructs and Y/N does as she’s told, lifting her hips so he can pull down her leggings leaving her in her pink lacey panties. 

Harry swallows as he sees the apex of her thighs. He hadn’t seen this much of her before and he could already feel himself harden in his jeans at the sight of her. “Think y’ can sit up for me flower? Jus’ so I can’t take your sweater off?” He tries to stop staring at her bare legs but he can’t seem to take his eyes away.

Y/N groans but does as she’s told, sitting up and putting her arms up so Harry can remove the sweater from her torso. Her eyes are still shut and Harry gently pulls the soft sweater over her head. 

When her eyes open, the first thing Y/N sees is Harry standing above her with his gaze fixed on her figure and she realizes this is the most he's ever seen of her yet. She had nothing but a vest and underwear to cover her body. Y/N was pretty sure he could see the curve of her breasts and the outline of her nipples through the thin, white material. 

“Harry…” she whispers, suddenly realising what was happening, how the temperature in the room had suddenly shifted.

Y/N shivered as Harry cupped her cheek and bent forward to kiss her. She leaned backwards onto the bed, resting on her elbows as Harry kept his hold on her cheek, using his other hand to place on her hip as he crawled on top of her. His hand was warm and big and his fingertips pressed into her skin sending a joint of electricity down through her body. 

They kissed and Harry groaned as Y/N uncontrollably rolled her hips into him, “Harry,” Y/N repeated, placing her hands on his chest.

“What baby?” He asks.

“I-I feel strange,” She confesses, not really knowing how to go about telling him what was on her mind.

Harry furrowed his eyebrows, “What’s wrong?”

Y/N shook her head immediately, “N-no nothing’s wrong. It’s just… Remember last time? When you…” she couldn’t seem to finish her sentence, too embarrassed to describe what Harry had done when he taught her how to touch herself.

“What about it?” He wonders, patience and curiosity on his face.

“I-I want to do it again but different.” She cringed at her words, “I mean, I want to try something new. L-like I want you to show me something new I mean.” 

Harry’s features softened, “Yeah? You want me to take care of you huh?”

Y/N nodded, relieved he understood what she was hinting at without her having to admit it herself, “Yes.”

“What do you want me to do baby?” He kisses down the side of her neck, Y/N’s head rolling to the side to give him more room to explore her skin.

“I-I don’t know,” 

“Oh I think you do flower otherwise you wouldn’t be asking for something new to try would you?” He sucks on the skin of her neck and she whines at the feeling. His green eyes meet hers as he lifts his head up, “C’mon sweet girl, tell daddy what you want from him.” 

Her mouth fell open and her heart beat erratically in her chest, “I-I need you down there daddy.” 

“Yeah? You want daddy to touch you down there baby?” 

“Y-yes daddy please.”

“Still so polite.” Y/N seemed to melt as he crawled down her placid form, he could do anything to her and she wouldn't mind as long as he was touching her in some way.

She suddenly gasped when she felt him blow warm air onto her nipple beneath her vest. “Can I lift your vest baby? Can you let daddy see these cute tits?” 

“Mhm,” She hummed, her body vibrating with excitement and nerves. Harry’s fingertips brushed the skin of her tummy as he pulled her vest up to reveal her breasts. 

“Fuck baby,” Harry groaned. “You’re so beautiful.” 

“Your shirt too!” Y/N insisted, feeling a little insecure as Harry was still in his white shirt.

Harry was quick to pull off his shirt to reveal his tattooed torso that Y/N had traced and slept on almost every night since they had met. Her hands were immediately on his warm skin as he kissed down the swell of her breasts. Y/N gasped as Harry gently pressed a kiss to her left nipple, sliding his other hand up to cup her other one, “See that? Y’ were made for daddy.” He said as her breast fit perfectly in his hand. 

“Daddy I need you,” Y/N whispered.

“Such a greedy girl.” He tuts, “Trying to worship you ‘n you’re just begging me to make you cum.” 

“N-no-” Y/N wanted to argue but Harry quickly kissed her lips before moving down her body. 

“Look at these pretty panties. Can already see you’re all soaked through them.” Y/N could practically hear the smile on his face. “Can I see baby?” 

“Y-Yes, daddy.” She swallowed back her nerves, even though Harry had already seen her down there, it was her first time experiencing someone be so up close. Y/N felt his fingers hook around the waistband of her panties until they were halfway down her thighs and waited for him to react.

“Fuck me,” Harry hisses. “Won’t ever get over the sight of this pretty pussy. Always manage to live up to y’ nickname, don’t y’ flower?” 

Y/N’s cheeks heat but before she has time to protest Harry leans forward and presses a kiss to her throbbing pussy. She snaps her thighs shut tightly and gasps, “W-what-“

“Shhh flower,” Harry kisses her knee and then gently hooks both her legs over either of his shoulders so she can’t close her thighs to hide away from him, “Daddy’s gonna take the ache away okay? Know you’ve been feeling all needy for daddy. Gonna do something that’ll help and put you right to sleep m’kay?”

Y/N swallows harshly and fists the fabric of the blanket beneath her. Her heart was racing and her belly was swirling with need and desire as she waited for Harry to do something.

He kissed the inside of her thighs, “You trust me?” He asked, waiting for her approval, “Because I’ll stop as soon as you say so, promise y’ that.” 

“Yes, daddy.” She said because she did trust him, wholeheartedly, “I trust you.”

“That’s m’ girl.” Y/N waited until she felt his warm breath blow over her pussy. His mouth pressed another kiss to her before she felt his tongue swipe across her slit. Y/N gasped at the unfamiliarity of it as he flicked his tongue softly over her to get her accustomed to it. His eyes looked up to see Y/N’s reaction at the first touch of his mouth. He smirked to himself as her breasts heaved cutely and her cheeks were flushed pink. 

“Harry,” she whimpered.

“S not my name flower.” He murmured against her. 

She tried to close her thighs but Harry’s head lay buried between them, licking and stroking his tongue against her. He wrapped both his tattooed hands around her thighs to keep them open, pressing his fingertips into her plushy skin. “Daddy,” she whined.

He licks up her wet cunt once more until he finds her clit. Y/N jolts at the sudden attention to her sensitive bundle of nerves. His lips pucker against her tiny, pink clit glistening with arousal, a whimper eliciting from Y/N’s lip. He moves his tongue in circles around it before gently sucking on the small bud.

Y/N’s a writhing, whimpering mess beneath him as he licks and sucks on her clit, her wetness coating his chin. She bucks her hips against his mouth and quickly removes one hand from the bed to weave into his hair. Harry groans as she tugs on his curls, his cock leaking precum in his trousers, the vibrations going straight to Y/N’s clit. 

“Daddy, f-feels so good,” She mewls, continuing to tug on his hair. Harry ruts his hips against the mattress, in hopes he could get some relief as he continues his assault on her pussy. 

“Y' so fucking sexy Y/N.” He grumbled, unable to stop his attention from her weeping, little cunt.

Her thighs began to tremble as she felt the coil tighten in her belly. Harry’s hand removed itself from her thigh and slid up the bed to reach for her hand that wasn’t already in his hair. He intertwined their fingers as if comforting her without saying anything. 

He paused his assault on her clit, Y/N whimpering at the sudden loss. Instead, he flattened his tongue against her once more before dipping his tongue into her hole a little as if testing the waters to see whether she’d like it. Y/N’s back arched and Harry’s hand left hers to place itself flat against her tummy to hold her still, the cool metal of his rings made her shiver as they touched her skin. His tongue delved in and out of her, using his other hand to rub circles on her clit with his thumb.

Y/N’s mouth fell open, her head fell back and her legs turned to jelly. “Y close angel girl?” Harry murmured, peeking up at her to see her blissfully zoned out from his touch. 

“Feels s’ good daddy, s-so so so good,” She babbled her head lolling from side to side. 

“Wanna cum baby? Wanna make a mess on daddy?” He urged her, feeling her core clench. 

She jerkily nodded, “Mhmmm,” She hummed. 

“Lemme have it, baby, daddy worked so hard, lemme taste y’ cum.” He hastened his movements on her clit and continued to lick and suck at her pussy, “Cum f’ me baby.” He coaxed. "Can't wait to feel y' round my cock someday, practically begging to feel y' tight, little hole. 'm gonna be the first and only one to fill y' up, isn't that right? Gonna let daddy stretch you out and fill y' up. You're all mine, 'm favourite flower."

His filthy words set Y/N alight. She felt the coil snap as pleasure rushed through her entire body and filled all of her senses. Harry groaned, continuing to press himself up against the bed until he felt his own orgasm building too, his lips staying on Y/N as she came. He lapped up her juices, riding her through her orgasm and tasting all she had to offer for the first time. “That’s my girl baby, so good.” He cooed. 

Harry’s eyes rolled back as his cock released inside of his boxers, his head falling to the side and resting on the inside of her thigh as he breathed heavily, “Fuck,” He groaned, eyes rolling to the ceiling. 

The room was quiet other than the sounds of them trying to catch their breath. Harry kissed the inside of Y/N’s thigh and worked his way up her body, placing soft, spongy kisses on her bare skin until he was face-to-face with her. 

Harry grinned lazily, his eyes tired as he brushed the hair off her face. His heart stuttered; he felt himself losing his breath all over again despite having just come down from the high of his release as he looked down at his girlfriend. Her cheeks were flushed and her skin was glowing from the afterglow, tendrils of baby hairs framed her face and her eyes were hazy and soft as she looked into his own. 

“Thank you daddy,” She whispered to him. 

Harry pressed a kiss to her lips. Her legs hooked around his waist as he circled his arms around her to pull her in tighter, “You okay? Was that good? Not too much?” He wanted to make sure she was okay before anything else. He’d hate himself if he did something she didn’t like or didn’t want to do. 

“M okay,” She smiled, her voice tired. He kissed her once more knowing she could probably taste herself on his lips. “It felt good.” 

“Y’ made me cum,” He admits, feeling the discomfort of his own release in his boxers. 

“I did?” Y/N’s eyes widened, her lips parting in surprise. 

“Yeah, flower. That was so fucking sexy.” Y/N whined and tried to hide herself behind her hands. Harry chuckled at her reaction, grabbing her wrists to move her hand away and kissing her forehead before lifting himself from her. “Let’s get y’cleaned up.” 

Harry walked over to Y/N’s dresser to grab himself some clean boxers from the drawer he had curated from the nights he had spent with her. He also grabbed her some clean underwear and one of his shirts to wear to bed. 

In the bathroom, he got himself cleaned up and grabbed a cloth dampening it under the running water in the sink for his love who was waiting for him in bed. Harry paused at the door when he entered her room after he was met with a sight he longed to treasure in his mind forever. Y/N was lying completely bare on her bed. Her eyes were shut, her chest moving up and down and her hair was sprawled out around her. He didn’t know how he got so lucky with her, she was a living angel.

“C’mere flower,” He murmured, spreading her legs apart slightly and trying not to react to the sticky, glistening mess between her thighs. He placed the dampened cloth against her and calmed her down as she jolted beneath his touch from how sensitive she was. 

Once they were all cleaned up, Harry climbed under the blankets with Y/N half asleep against his chest. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head and ran a finger up and down the length of her spine beneath her shirt.  "Sleep now, flower," he whispered his voice a gentle caress in the quiet of the night. The warmth of his presence soothed Y/N to fall asleep. 

In the hazy blur of her consciousness, she murmured, words slipping from her lips without thought. "Love you," she breathed, the three words escaping her lips as effortlessly as a sigh, yet she remained unaware of what they meant. 

Harry stilled, his breath catching in his throat, “W-what?” But Y/N didn’t reply, instead, soft snores left her lips as she fell asleep beside him. 

. . .

It was the Friday after Harry had taken Y/N to the beach. Fridays were always busy at the tattoo shop so Harry was working away until the late hours of the evening. Y/N sat on a chair, her legs swinging backwards and forward as she played a game on Harry's phone. The sound of the tattoo gun hummed in the air whilst a bossa nova played over the Bluetooth speaker. Harry was still working despite the fact it was nearly time for Y/N to go to bed (She had a strict regime before bed which gave her exactly eight hours of sleep each night). He had promised her this would be his last customer as she waltzed into his tattoo shop, ready to go to his apartment together.

Harry hadn't mentioned to Y/N what she had unknowingly said in her sleep. When they woke up the next morning, he gently broached the subject, asking, "Hey, do you remember anything you said last night while you were asleep?"

Y/N, still rubbing the sleep from her eyes, just shrugged in response. "Not really," she mumbled, her voice heavy with drowsiness. "Did I say something strange?"

"No, not at all," Harry assured her, though inwardly, he couldn't shake off the weight of her words. "Just thought you might've had a dream or something." But even as he spoke, he couldn't shake off the lingering memory of her whispered confession, playing over and over in his mind like a sweet melody. 

"Y' holding up okay there m'love?" Harry checked in, working on the final few finishing touches of the tattoo he had been working on.

"Mhm," She smiled but Harry could tell she was getting sleepy from the way he'd caught her eyes fluttering shut when he glanced over at her.

"Can go sleep on the couch out front if you're feeling sleepy." He offered, wanting to make sure his girl was okay before he finished off the tattoo for his customer. He knew first-hand how grouchy she got when she didn't get her sleep.

"M okay here Harry," She insisted, thinking she was lying to him well enough over how tired she was. "Can I watch?" She strained her neck to get a better look at what Harry was doing.

"Course flower, c'mere," Harry pushed his chair forward to give Y/N space to stand behind him so she could watch over his shoulder. He pushed down on the peddle and continued the tattoo as Y/N watched over him.

"Does it hurt?" She wondered, watching the needle press ink into the customer's skin.

"Jus' a little sting but when you've had so many it's not so bad," Harry replied.

Y/N watched in fascination. She was not only impressed by the design Harry had drawn out and tattooed to the customer so effortlessly but also how brave people must be to have such a permanent mark on their skin. She tilted her head to the side, "I want one," She mumbled.

Harry paused, "What?"

"Nothing," She replied, quickly.

Harry had heard what she said but decided he'd bring it up when there wasn't another person in the room, knowing how shy she got around people she didn't know.

After completing the tattoo, he wrapped it up and chatted with the customer for a little bit. Meanwhile, Y/N browsed through his tattoo design sketchbook with a furrowed brow. Once the conversation was done, he shut the door behind the customer and turned the sign to 'closed.'

He walked over to his seemingly overthinking flower and kissed the top of her head, "Wha's wrong m'love?" He smiled softly, wrapping both arms around her and pulling her into his chest.

"Jus' looking H," She tilted her head back to look up at him, kissing his chin in the process.

"Didn't know we were telling fibs tonight flower," He teased, spinning her around in his embrace.

"M not lying," She hid her face in his chest because he always knew when she was lying and she was most definitely lying.

"Can you look up f'me baby just f' a sec," He murmured and looked down to see the prettiest eyes he'd ever seen, round and sparkling under the blue lights of his shop. "Woah," He whispered to himself.

"What's wrong?" A crease appeared in between her brows.

"Nothin' just...you're so pretty," She whined, nuzzling her face into his neck to hide her very red face. Even though it was hard to tell under the blue lights, he knew she was blushing. "Hey, no, can I have a kiss please?" He cupped the back of her head and pulled her away from the comfortable spot in his neck.

Y/N stood on her toes to kiss him, tasting the tinge of eucalyptus lip balm she had given him when he had complained of having sore lips from kissing her too much in the colder weather. "So y' want a tattoo?" He murmured against her lips.

Y/N pulled away, "I-I was just thinking but-"

"You're not sure?" She nods. "Don't have to get a tattoo today m'love, especially if you're not sure." Harry comforted her, seeing the uncertainty on her face. He kissed the crease between her eyebrows but her eyes were fixed on a tattoo on his upper arm.

"Where'd you get that?" She asked, her fingers skimming over the small design. It was a fine line drawing of a pair of angel wings with a flower in the centre between each wing. Harry had designed it not long after meeting Y/N and had only tattooed the design onto himself a few days ago.

"Jus' a little something I drew 's all." He shrugged, "Reminded me of you."

Y/N's lips parted like she couldn't believe what he had just said, "For me?"

He nods, "Wanted to have you somewhere on me at all times."

Y/N goes quiet and Harry gives her the time to think as he packs away his things to head upstairs. By the time he's finished, Y/N's tugging on his sleeve and looking up at him with rounded eyes, "I think I'd like a tattoo, Harry."

Harry bit back a smile, "You do?"

"Mhm," She nodded, seeming sure of herself, "But I want you to do it."

"Wouldn't let anyone else do it anyways flower." He pulled out the kit he had just put away, not feeling annoyed in the slightest because he loved this girl and would set up his equipment all over again even if she decided she no longer wanted the tattoo anymore.

Y/N shimmied up onto the chair and glanced over at him, "What are you wanting on you baby?" He asked.

"I want the same one as you please Harry," She says, referring to the tattoo of the angel wings.

He smiles, "Wanna match with me, sweet girl?" He kisses her lips quickly.

Y/N nods, beaming up at him, "Yes please."

"So polite," He taps her cheek before going to his worktop and drawing out a stencil with a careful hand.  Y/N sat in the chair with her feet hovering above the ground. She was fiddling with her fingers in her lap as she glanced around at the designs she had admired many times before when she'd sit and wait for Harry whilst he worked.

"M'kay lovie, where'd you want it?" Harry asked.

"Oh," She pursed her lips, "I didn't think that far."

"Didn't think that far?" Harry chortled, "How about on your arm?” He squeezed her arm softly above the crease of her elbow, "Won't hurt too bad if we do it here."

"Okay Harry," She nodded, trusting him implicitly. Harry wanted to smother her in kisses with the way she was looking at him like she would do anything he said without even questioning it.

Harry prepped everything, making sure he had all he needed to start the tattoo. He went a little slower than he normally would, wanting to give her enough time to make sure she was certain about getting the tattoo. He mixed up the ink and switched on the tattoo gun as Y/N lay back against the leather chair.

"Y' okay flower?" Harry checked again, expecting to get the same answer he had already gotten only for her to chew on her lip and scrunch up the fabric of the skirt she was wearing.

"M a little nervous," She admitted, blushing.

"Hey it's okay to be nervous," He cooed, dropping the equipment and rolling over to her on his chair. He leaned against the seat she was lying in so his face was up close to hers, he brushed a few strands of hair from her face and the feeling of his hands calmed the nerves Y/N was feeling. "It'll hurt a little bit. Some people say it feels like a little like a tiny scratch but you get used to the feeling."

"But what if you start and then I don't want it anymore because it hurts?" She realises she should have asked these questions before they had gotten this far.

"Tha's why you need to be sure you want it sweet girl. Don't wanna see you in pain either but it's a small tattoo so won't take long and it's on your arm which means it hurts a little bit less." Harry explained.

"Okay," She nodded, "B-but can you distract me a little? It'll help if you distract me."

Harry smiled, kissing her lips, "Can distract you any way you want, baby. Here," He removed the dog tag necklace he wore all the time without failure and handed it to her, "Can fiddle with this while I draw on you."

Y/N felt her shoulders relax a little as she felt the cool metal in her hands, "Okay Harry." His lips pressed against her forehead, "Okay Y/N." He grinned.

Harry pulled on some gloves and got the tattoo gun running. Y/N went stiff as the humming sound filled the room but she reminded herself of Harry's words and continued to play with his necklace. "Okay, ready baby?" He gave her one last kiss for comfort and then, when she nodded her head, the needle made contact with her skin.

She gasped as the tiny needle pricked at her skin. It wasn't as painful as she thought it was going to be but it wasn't comfortable either. She tried to relax but her muscles were all tensed up.

Harry tried to comfort her as best as she could. Whispering words of encouragement, "So good baby, y' so brave." He'd say and tell her it would be over in a moment even though a moment felt like an eternity in her mind.

"Is it over yet?" She was starting to feel the discomfort and was already waiting for it to finish.

"Almost angel," He cooed and finished up the final lines of the drawing. "There we go, all finished."

Y/N let out a long breath she didn't know she was holding and immediately her eyes flickered down to the tattoo Harry had drawn on her. She was in awe of how beautiful and intricate the design was and how quickly Harry had managed to draw it so perfectly. It was a perfect size on her arm, the angel wings matched exactly the same as the ones Harry had done on himself. She almost squealed with how happy she was with her first ever tattoo and how it was a permanent reminder of her sweet and loving boyfriend.

Harry grinned as he watched her face light up when she saw the tattoo, "'Y like it?" He asked, preparing the cream and wrap to put on it before she did something that would get it infected - they both knew she would do that if he wasn't careful.

"I love it, Harry!" She grinned, her smile lighting up the whole room.

Harry laughed at her happiness, "You're welcome baby." He applied the cream and wrapped it up before she could move anywhere. Instead of leaping out of the chair, she wrapped her arms around Harry and pressed her lips to his. He hummed, "Best tip I've ever gotten." He murmured.

"I kinda want another one," She couldn't stop looking down at her tattoo and taking in how pretty it was.

"Woah, slow down there flower, think you should wait a while until the next one." He repressed a smile. "But I'll happily draw up another one f'you."

"Okay Harry," She said, not really paying much attention to him.

"Alright c'mon, le's go upstairs. Wanna kiss you in bed if tha's okay." He quickly put all of his equipment away as Y/N gawked at her tattoo.

"I think I'd love that more than the tattoo," She sighed. Harry decided not to pull her up on the fact she was probably telling another fib. 

. . .

"Y/N is that a tattoo!" One of her friends, Shakira, spoke out.

It had been two weeks since Y/N had gotten her first tattoo and she still wasn't over how pretty it was. Every morning she'd wake up and look at her arm and tell Harry how good of a job he did.

"No wonder you're a tattoo artist Harry!" She'd say, to which he'd just smile and sit patiently as she rambled about how much she loved her tattoo and how she wanted him to draw her another one.

"Oh yes!" Y/N rolled up the sleeve of her pyjama shirt so her friends could get a better look, "Harry did it. Isn't it pretty?" She sighed, thinking of her boyfriend who she hadn't seen since this morning.

Y/N had planned a slumber party at her place a few weeks ago since she hadn't seen her two friends, Shakira and Layla, in forever. She'd known them since high school and were the only two friends she really had other than Harry who was also her best friend. 

Harry had promised he'd stay away and give her some much needed girly time. Although Y/N didn't like the idea of being away from Harry, she knew it was needed. He had some things he needed to do anyway and she wanted to give him space to do that too.

"Do you think he could do one for me?" Layla asked, her arm already littered with small tattoos.

"I can ask him for you if you'd like," Y/N offered, receiving a nod from Layla.

"What's it like being in a relationship?" Shakira asked, "I mean Harry seems the complete opposite of you, I'd never have pictured you together."

Y/N smiles, thinking back to their first interaction and how intimidated she was by him. Now she couldn't get enough of him, wanting to be with him and touch him whenever she could. "I know but Harry's... I don't know, he's not like how people assume. He's kind, caring and lovable. We have a lot more in common than most people think and even the things we don't have in common, Harry always listens to the things I have to say even when he doesn't completely understand."

"Awwww!" Y/N blushed when she realised she had been rambling too much again.

"You're so cute Y/N," Layla grinned. "And we're so happy for you. Harry seems like a great guy."

"He is," Y/N agreed, shyly.

"Have you said I love you yet?" Shakira smirked.

Y/N's smile faltered, "N-not yet..." She looked away from their gazes, "But I think I'm just waiting for the right time. Harry always has these moments where I think he's going to say it but he never does and part of me thinks he's still questioning it." Y/N admits.

Layla offers her a sympathetic gaze, "I'm sure he's just waiting for the perfect moment to tell you Y/N. Saying I love you can be a pretty big deal for some people."

"I know," Y/N nods in agreement, "And I'll wait for him, however long it takes."

Y/N spent the remainder of the evening gossiping and watching movies with her two best friends. Now and then, she would look down at her phone just in case Harry had sent her anything but nothing appeared other than a blank screen. She couldn't help but feel a little bit deflated that he hadn't checked in on her like he usually would but she quickly pushed the feeling away. Harry had other things he was doing, she'd see him later.

"Thank you for having us Y/N! It was so good to see you, we need to do it again sometime," Y/N stood at the door to say goodbye to her friends. It was nearing midnight and she wondered if Harry was in his apartment waiting for her.

"Thank you for coming! I missed you guys," Y/N chirped, she really did miss having her girlfriends around. She was so busy with work and spending time with Harry, that she rarely had time outside of those things. But after today, she was going to make it a priority to see her friends again.

"See you later Y/N!" Her friends waved as they walked down the steps from her apartment. Y/N smiled and waved until they were out of sight. She planned on calling Harry to check in on him and see if he was alright but a crash from his apartment halted her steps.

She paused, stilling herself so she could hear a little better. Another thud came from his apartment followed by a string of curses and something that sounded like a clutter of things falling on the floor.

"Harry?" Y/N called through the door but received no response. "Harry, are you okay? It's me, it's Y/N."

"Y/N," Harry's voice murmured through the door. Y/N relaxed a little at the sound of his voice but she was still worried about him. It wasn't normal for him to keep his distance from her like this.

"Harry, are you okay?" She rested her hand on the doorknob, preparing to open it so she could see him with her own eyes.

"I-I'm fine baby. Go t' sleep m'love. I'll be there in a little while," Y/N frowned when she heard him wheezing a little as he breathed between words. He spoke much too slowly compared to his usual drawl as though it was too much work for him to speak.

"Harry please, jus' wanna see you." She tries again, hoping he'll open the door.

"Promise I'll be there t' give you your kisses baby but I jus' need... a moment," Y/N's face fell.

"H-Harry you're scaring me," She said, quietly.

Harry was on the other side of the door, clutching onto his side. He was already hurting but hearing his angel begging to come in was killing him. He couldn't leave her out there. She looked the perfect remedy to his currently aching body when he looked through the peephole of his door and saw her already in her pyjamas, looking all snuggly and cute.

"Not tryin' t' scare you, dove. Please I'll be out in a minute." He hoped she would listen like she normally would. He needed enough time to clean up as best as he could so he could return to her- looking like the Harry she knew- but she wasn't having it, reminding him of just how stubborn she could be when she wanted to. 

"Harry, I-I'm gonna open the d-door. I have to see if you're okay," She spoke, clearly and carefully.

Harry looked down as the doorknob twisted. He wanted to twist the key and lock it to keep her out but he lost control of his own mind as he stepped back and allowed her to push the front door open.

He stood under the dim light of his living room. He had been meaning to get the lightbulb fixed but he'd been spending too much time at Y/N's apartment to remember.

Her eyes went from his feet all the way up to meet his face. Her lips parted and her eyes started to water, his heart ached at the sight. "No baby," He stepped forward, pulling her into him and holding her to his chest even though it ached to do so.

"H-Harry," She whispered, her voice cracking, "What happened?"

She pulled back and cupped one of his cheeks in her small hand. Harry's eyes fluttered shut at the sensation, he could have sworn every ounce of pain lifted from her touch alone. "Was out with a friend, you know, the one who deals," He explained, referring to Mike who Y/N had met. He didn't want to hide from her and she already knew he smoked weed regularly so it was no surprise to her when he told her he'd been smoking, "We pulled over so he could drop something off but I guess the customer got a little aggressive. He was probably on something but he was refusing to pay I think Mike said. I was in the car and all I saw was this guy trying to swing at him. I ran out to help him and we managed to get away before he had the chance to do anything worse but he obviously managed to get a good few hits in before."

Harry hadn’t remembered the last time he had gotten into a fight other than when he was a teenager just after his parents got divorced. He had managed to get a few punches in, making his knuckles all red and cut up, but he'd also been the victim of a few hits too. He had a black eye, a busted lip and a pounding headache from the impact of the punch he had received.

"Harry," Y/N choked on a sob, "Y-you could have been seriously h-hurt,"

"I know baby, I know." He cradled her head in his arms as she wrapped her arms around him, not squeezing too tight because she knew he was in pain. "But 'm here now."

Her eyes were red-rimmed as she looked at him, "You were helping Mike?" She asked.

"'s all I was doing baby, promise." He hated how worried she looked so he was willing to do anything to comfort her until she knew he was okay.

She pulled away, "W-where are you hurting?" She looks down as if checking him for any more bruising. He could see her visibly starting to panic, her hands shaking and her chest moving up and down rapidly.

"Hey, c'mere, c'mon now." He picked her up and brought her over to the couch, "M okay sweet girl, nothing to worry about anymore. Calm down f' me, please. Hate seeing you in a panic." He uttered to her, rocking her back and forth with her face buried in his neck. 

"You're all b-bruised," She whimpered, "Y-you must be in so much pain."

"Not anymore my love. Hmmm, my flower is here, takin' all m' pain away aren't you dove?" He kissed her shoulder.

"C-can I help you?" She whispered, eyes blotchy and red from crying a little.

"Wanna patch up m' bruises love?" She nods as if there was nothing else she'd rather do than be there for him. "Alright, le's go to the bathroom and y' can help me." He carried her to the bathroom and placed her on the counter near the sink. He grabbed a first aid kit from the cabinet under the sink and handed it to her. "Didn't know m' girlfriend was a little nurse." He smirked, a blush covering her cheeks.

Harry stood between her legs with his hands on the counter on either side of her. He watched her as she cleaned the cuts and treated the bruise covering his eye. He smiled when the tip of her tongue stuck out between her lips, "Be careful, I'll bite that tongue." He teased.

Y/N squeaked hiding her tongue away, but quickly composed herself, "You're not getting anywhere near my tongue mister." She sasses and Harry grins so wide, his cheeks hurt.

"No? You don't think I deserve a kiss baby? M in so much pain." He hides his face in her neck and presses spongy kisses on her soft skin.

Y/N giggles at the ticklish sensation, trying to push him away, "No, you can't, not until I patch you up and you stop getting into fights."

"Actin' like I get into fights every other weekend baby," He smirks, "Only f' you."

Her mouth opens and closes as she tries to figure out what to say in such a flustered state from his words. He takes the opportunity to kiss her, their lips pressing together under the low light of the bathroom. He hadn't seen her since this morning and had been missing her all day but knew she needed some time with her girlfriends without him smothering her. It didn't stop him from glancing at his phone now and then to see if she'd called him, just like she had done.

The small time they spent away from each other during the day made him all the more desperate to kiss her. He cradled both her cheeks in his hand, brushing his thumb over her cheekbones. She wrapped her arms around his neck and played with the baby strands of hair on the nape of his neck. "Missed you," She murmured when their lips parted.

"Missed y' too flower." He hummed, "Don't know what's wrong w' me to want you this bad." His hands travelled down her arms, his fingers brushing over her tattoo as he slid past it before he intertwined their fingers together. “Think m just a teeny bit in love with y’ to be honest.” He confessed. 

And suddenly they were both existing outside of their own bodies.

"W-what?" Y/N's eyes glazed over.

“Oh shit.” Harry cusses, squeezing his eyes shut, his face scrunching in frustration, “Wasn’t meant to be this way flower.” 

“Y-you love me?” Her bottom lip quivered, her brain not quite believing what she was hearing. 

Harry's heart was racing as he looked her in the eyes, "I love you." The words left his mouth and had never felt so right or so freeing. He couldn't understand why now of all moments was the time to finally say it but a piece of himself felt whole and all the pain from his body had left as he told her the three words that had been trapped in his throat for so long.

Y/N's mind whirred as she processed Harry's words. The air seemed to thicken around them, and for a moment, time hung suspended. She searched his eyes for any sign of hesitation, but all she found was sincerity and vulnerability. "You do?" She whimpered.

"Oh no flower, don't cry. Hate seeing tears in those pretty eyes," He began to wipe them away as soon as they fell from her eyes.

"I'm sorry," She blubbered, "I never imagined... I never imagined someone could feel this way about me," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Never thought I'd be in love either but here we are," He chuckled, "Love you so much, m'favourite flower." He rubbed their noses together.

Y/N's pouty lips sprouted into a beautiful smile, "I love you too Harry, more than anyone in the whole world."

"Y’ already told me that once before." He smiled, a mixture of adoration and a touch of amusement dancing in his eyes. 

“I did?” She frowned. 

“Mhm,” Harry nodded, “Before you fell asleep, you mumbled it and told me you loved me and when you woke up y’ didn’t remember.” 

“Really?” She couldn’t help but feel embarrassed knowing she admitted something so big in her sleep.

“Honestly,” Harry told her, “Think y’ were probably dreaming or something.”

“Is this a dream? Feels like it,” Y/N whispers. 

“S most certainly not a dream m’love.” Harry kissed her quickly, “Gonna love you forever I think.” 

She leant forward, running her fingers through his hair as his head fell back. He hummed at the feeling, biting on his lip to stop himself from smiling so much before burying his face in the crook of her neck - in the place he loved so much. "Promise." He whispered, lips ghosting her skin.

Their fingers traced lazy patterns on each other's skin, a silent communication between them. The room was filled with the hushed whispers of their love, as if time had slowed down so they could savour the sweetness of this very moment.

Y/N yawned which made the corner of Harry's lips turn upwards, "Y' done fixing me up now? Wanna go t' bed love?" She nodded, wrapping herself around him. He reminded himself to clean away the first aid kit in the morning, his priority was getting his girl some much-needed sleep.

She curled into him when they lay in his small bed, her head resting on his chest right where her heart was. She played with his hair and he ran a hand up and down her bare back underneath her pyjama shirt, "I love you," She murmured into the quiet.

He hoped she could hear his heart beat a little faster at her words, "I love you s' much, flower. With everything in me, gonna be mine forever y'are." He mumbled the words into her ear. 

Harry cupped the side of her face as her tired, glossy eyes looked at him with so much love and adoration, that he didn’t know what to do with it all. In the dimly lit room, they leaned in close, their breath mingling as their lips met in a gentle, passionate kiss. His hands found her waist, pulling her closer, while hers tangled in his hair. They explored each other's mouths, lost in the heat of the moment, their bodies pressed together. Each kiss was filled with longing and desire, igniting a fire between them that burned brighter with every touch.

“I’ve never loved anyone before,” Y/N whispered to him. 

“Really?” Harry smiled. 

“You’re my first love.” Y/N has to bite her lip to stop herself from smiling so wildly but Harry tugs her lip with his thumb and suddenly her smile is so wide her cheeks turn pink.

“You’re my first and only love.” He murmured. 

She liked that and she loved him. 

This was exactly where they were both meant to be —with the person who had become not only their first love but their forever love too. 

A flower tattooed to his heart.

[luveline]

Ok this isn’t Halloween but I would love to see a fic of the first time r spends the night at Aaron’s and she changes into her pj which r these super cute delicate tank and shorts set and Aaron goes crazy!! Like he’s a gentleman obvi (or trying hard to be) but he starts opening my flirting with her and she’s so confused bc usually he’s much more subtle

thank you for your request! ♡ fem, 1k

cw adult theme mdni

You don't bother changing in the bathroom. It's not an attempt to come onto him, though you're wondering if he might want that, but a realistic practice. If Aaron wants to be intimate with you tonight he's going to see much more of you than your bra.

He returns from the bathroom as you're pulling down your camisole. It's a simple pair of pyjamas but made of a more expensive fabric, the shorts bordering immodest and the camisole cupping your breasts with enough support that a quick glance in the mirror tells you what you'd wanted to know; you look cute. 

Aaron smiles at you, something unreadable in his expression. His brows lift ever so slightly. "Nice socks." 

"I get cold feet sometimes," you say, pressing your fuzzy heels together. 

"Yeah?" he asks, pushing his hair out of his face. "Me too." 

"What side do you sleep on?" you ask. 

"What side do you sleep on?" he asks back. "Go where you want." 

You pick a random side, too nervous to think about it in depth. The sheets are crisps to the touch and smell freshly laundered, soft against your naked legs. You feel a little like you're playing make believe all cleaned and washed yourself, your heart in your wrist as you squeeze it, watching him flick off the big light and cross the carpeted floor slowly. His room, his entire apartment, is smart but cosy, ambient lamp light and open space. 

"Do you wanna watch TV?" he asks, putting the remote in your lap as he shakes out the sheet and slips in next to you. His body heat is immediately felt. His knee brushes yours as he leans in. "Hold that button down." 

Despite what you'd said about cold feet, you're nervous and he runs warm; by the time you've found something to watch on TV he's sewn his arm through yours and you're practically running a temperature. You have to take your legs back out and lie atop the sheets. 

You pull a knee up. The shorts ease down. 

Aaron sinks into the bed with you, his head just a touch higher than your own. "I'm really happy you're here," he says. 

"I'm happy too," you say, turning your face to his. Nervous, sure, but this is a milestone for your new relationship you're ecstatic to achieve. 

Even if he doesn't have any seductive intention tonight, you're eager to spend the night in his arms. He's older (impossible to ignore), more gentlemanly as a consequence, and during the course of your relationship there have been more important things than sex, like establishing trust with one another, and making sure that your relationship could withstand his constant working. 

"I'm really happy," you say, lifting your chin and fireworks erupt in your chest as he leans down to meet you, kissing you gently. 

"Is this…" His hand trails to the soft of your stomach, pink brushing your thigh where it's hiked. "Your usual nighttime attire?" 

"This is the wanting my boyfriend to like it attire," you confess, because he already knows. Aaron knows everything. He could tell you where you bought them if you gave him long enough.

"Consider them true to form," he says, hand sliding like a heavy, hot weight across your stomach and leaving a worse heat behind. "You look amazing." 

"Yeah?" you ask. 

His lips skin your cheek. He nudges you with his nose to encourage your head back and kisses softly under the line of your jaw, "They're a little small," he says, kissing between whispers, "the shorts." 

"They're not tight," you whisper in turn. 

His hand falls to your thigh, spreading your legs a terrible inch as he tugs at the hem of your shorts. His fingertips dip under them a millimetre as he agrees, "No, they're not. Your top, though…" 

"It was a matching set. I couldn't choose–" 

"Do you have many like it?" he asks, pulling away, meeting your eyes with a charge you've only seen a handful of times. You know exactly what it means, your chest aching with want as his hand comes to rest at the top of your thigh. 

"Sure. Two or three." 

"That won't do." 

You're nervous, but he's your boyfriend. You know more about him than he might think even if you don't know him intimately yet, and his arduousness makes you laugh. He's always been such a gentleman —not many men would ask you to be their girlfriend with a pearl necklace, or invite you to stay the night via text rather than at the end of a date. You'd expected your first time together to be a come up for coffee situation, but he's never propositioned you that way. The text was a sweet surprise, an addition. 

Would you like to stay over after dinner on Friday? Let me know. Can't wait to see you either way. 

No matter what you want, Aaron wants that too. 

You turn into his lap and catch his lips with yours, his hand encroaching on the soft fat of your inner thigh. 

His lips part under yours and you take his face into your hands, a giving in if there ever were one, hoping it says everything you're too shy to admit aloud. No matter how much he clearly likes the shorts, he abandons your thigh and hugs your back to him instead, your chests pressed together until yours is heaving for air. 

"You're usually more subtle than this," you tease, breathless, good-natured. 

"You aren't usually wearing this," he says, his usually smooth voice roughened, "I'm losing my mind." 

"Well, we can't have that." 

He leans back in, laughing against your lips. When his hand works its way under your camisole, you think about where you can get more pyjamas like these ones considering he likes them so badly, but then his hand crawls higher and the thought leaves your mind for the time being. 

[woso-dreamzzz]

Tears IV

Alexia Putellas x Child!Reader

Summary: You and Fluffles

It's not often that people come around to the house.

Most of the time, it's you and Mami.

But today it's you, Mami and some of her teammates.

Mami usually does team bonding at their houses when you're away with Abuela and Tia Alba but today she's been convinced to open the house to them.

They're as quiet as a group of football players can be, having been lectured by Alexia at training today about being respectful of your needs if they're going to be invading the house together.

It's after dinner that they arrive. It's late, not enough for you to be in bed but late enough for you to have already had your night time bath and be in your pyjamas.

You hide away most of the time in your bedroom, just drawing but you pop out occasionally to show Mami what you've created.

The living room is loud with chatter and the tv has been commandeered by Jana and Bruna to play FIFA while everyone else watches and yells out tactics to try to help.

You're sitting on Mami's lap when suddenly everything gets a bit overwhelming and your skin becomes itchy with unease. You go tense, locking up all of your muscles at once until you're frozen like a statue.

Mami notices instantly, slipping your ear defenders on and lightly tap you off her lap. "Go and get Fluffles, pequeñita," She says.

You shake your head, still completely stiff. You glance around the room at where the girls are still watching the screen.

"No one's going to judge you for needing Fluffles," Mami says," I think you're in need of some Fluffles cuddles."

You sniffle and reach for her hand, tugging on it so she comes with you.

"Alright, pequeñita," She says," Let's go and get Fluffles."

You tug out at the collar of your pyjama shirt. You don't like how to feels against your skin and Mami tugs it off you. The air is a bit colder now but it feels nice on your heated skin and you can finally relax when Mami heads into Fluffles' room and unlocks her cage.

Fluffles leaps out of her cage instantly, darting around the room briefly before she leaps into your waiting arms. Her little hands press against your shoulder as you push your face into her soft fur.

Mami got your Fluffles last year for your birthday and she was your favourite thing in the whole world. She was so soft and little and she always made you feel so much better when you held her.

"Do you want to stay in here?" Mami asks," Or should we go back to the living room?"

You think it over for a moment, content with just holding Fluffles against you as she grunts softly against you.

"I take Fluffles with me?"

"Of course," Mami says," I'll even warm you up some milk. Do you want to go back out to the others?"

You nod. "With Fluffles."

It's nosier in the lounge than in Fluffles' room but you've got your ear defenders and your Fluffles so things are getting better.

Mami returns you to your spot on her lap as she sits on the sofa again.

Fluffles rests against you as you take big, deep breaths like Mami taught you to.

"I told you it would be a good idea," Irene says to Alexia when she notices," Pets are always good for kids."

Alexia rolls her eyes. "Oh yes because you can definitely compare your dog and son with my daughter and her chinchilla."

Paredes shrugs. "But I was right. They're cute together."

"They're not cute together when Alba lets it free to roam around the house without permission. I've had to put wrappings around all the wires."

Paredes holds her hands up. "Hey, I said get another dog. You're the one that gave her the chinchilla."

"She loves it," Alexia replies," It helps with her issues. It's the fur I think. If she could take it everywhere with her, she would. I think she wants another one too."

Paredes laughs. "Good luck with that."

Fluffles shifts in your arms until she's buried in the crook of your elbow, falling asleep quickly as you hold her.

Your whole body relaxes as Fluffles does and Mami very gently moves your ear defenders to rest against your neck.

"Do you still want your milk, pequeñita?"

You nod and she very carefully sits you on the sofa while she goes off to the kitchen.

With Mami gone, it's just you and Fluffles and you give her lots of little kisses as she naps.

Keira slides in next to you and very carefully points at Fluffles. "Who's this?"

"Fluffles," You answer," Mami got me her for my birthday last year."

"That's nice. What kind of animal is she?"

"A chinchilla. She's very soft."

"That's nice," Keira says," Does she live in your room?"

You shake your head. "Lives in the spare room so she has lots of room to play."

"That's cool. Is she your best friend?"

You nod. "Her and Mami."

"Her and Mami what?" Mami asks as she returns.

"My best friends," You reply," You and Fluffles." You think for a moment. "And Teeny."

"You're so sweet, pequeñita," Mami coos, layering kisses over your face," You're my best friend too."

You're sat on her lap again quickly and Mami holds your sippy cup of warm milk for you to drink out of.

The noise of the rest of the team has quietened down now because someone's put on a movie to watch. It's an adult movie so it's pretty boring and once you're done with your milk, you shift to get more comfy on Mami's lap.

Her fingers card through your hair before gently drawing circles on your belly. It's nice and relaxing and Fluffles soft weight in your arms is just perfect.

"Alright you lot," Alexia says," Come on, out."

"Aw, Ale!" Mapi complains," Why?"

Alexia glances down at you. "Because my pequeñita needs to go to bed now. You just being here has tired her out!"

Mapi laughs. "See, Ingrid? I'm good at getting babies to sleep when it's late!"

Ingrid rolls her eyes. "Not a chance, Mapi! Teeny's bedtime is the perfect bedtime for her. I'm not changing it."

The girls all stream out promptly after that and Alexia is left to get you and Fluffles settled in bed. She returns Fluffles to her cage and lifts your limp body up into her arms.

She bypasses your bedroom entirely and tucks you nice and safe into her bed, sliding in next to you.

[whosjunglejim4322]

Saccharine - E.M

Warnings ® smut! Fluff, soft bf Eddie<3, first time sex as a couple! Nasty IN LOVE smut bc this bitch is a hopeless romantic! Eddie is super sensitive, Established relationship, you stroke his dick, Eddie almost cums in his pants, lil bit of dry humping, this is incredibly self indulgent but u didn't hear that from me, overly descriptive bc why not

You shouldn't be nervous, really. It's just Eddie, who is your boyfriend of three months and twenty-six days. Who is sitting across from you on his creaky mattress criss-cross style, your knees touching. Your Eddie, who has two big hands flailing in the air as he goes on about the recent campaign, broad mouth etched into a whimsical smile, big eyes wondrous and full of excitement for the tale.

The bed bounces with his enthusiasm, and you draw closer to him with each syllable.

Your Eddie, who is doing nothing out of the ordinary, and who is as beautiful as ever in loose fitting plaid pyjama bottoms and a tattered black tee that exposes half of his collarbone and smudges of black ink - he doesn't even have to try, and perhaps these simple mundane realizations are what cause the flutter of wings in the pit of your stomach.

"And then Mike - hey, you okay?"

If it weren't for his vast change in expression, you truly wouldn't have realized what a trance you're in. Between the furrow of his unkempt brows and the amused but curious tilt at the corner of his mouth, you come back to earth. The weight of gravity settles in your bone marrow, as his calloused thumb quickly strokes your chin as if to remind you he is still here.

"I - yeah yeah, sorry I just," you grab his hand by the heaviness of his wrist, dragging it into your lap so you can stroke the back of his rough knuckles. "got distracted s'all."

Your eyes divert to where your fingers are joined and the sound of his airy, through-the-nose chuckle has more heat blossoming behind your ribcage, nudging at your organs.

"I'll stop with the D&D talk, know you hear enough about it from the kids. There's only so much dorkiness you should be subjected to, y'know?"

It's lighthearted, he's smirking and looking down at you with enough palpable fondness the apples of your cheeks feel like they're being stroked by a flame. Still, the implication that he may be bothering you in any way has an urgency filling your eyes. You shake your head.

"No, no that never bothers me Eds, don't be silly." The nickname makes his mouth dry, still, after three months and twenty-six days. You finally meet his glance. "You're just handsome, really handsome especially when you're talking about something you're passionate about and I just...yeah."

It's word vomit, messy and you feel like it makes no sense but then he squeezes your hand and you know that he reads between the nervous mumbo jumbo - you have no clue how you make him feel, do you?

"You're fucking cute." He breathes out earnestly, smoothing his grip upwards to your forearms and pulling you forward with minimal effort - right onto the stirdiness of his lap.

Your giddiness is the perfect portrait, your arms finding a resting place atop his broad shoulders. Curls tickle the tops of your arms and your wrists, and your thighs brace your frame by the slim of his taut waist. He can't help it, the giggles escaping his throat. The proximity is intoxicating for no reason at all.

"Can't believe this is our first time spending the night together, I'm so used to falling asleep on the phone with you that it really doesn't feel all that different." He smooths your hair out of your eyes, tucks it behind your left ear.

I get to touch her like this, he thinks to himself. His chest jostles underneath the muscle and bone.

"Yeah, except I get to fall asleep with you'n my arms, wake up with you in em' too. I'm one lucky son of a bitch, hmm?"

He's practically thinking out loud, but he's too far gone to feel shame. When you nuzzle your face against the warm nook of his neck, wet lips smiling against the flesh, his encapsulating arms squeeze you impossibly tighter. He buries his nose against the top of your head, inhaling the fresh scent of your shampoo. Your cheek grazes the side of his jaw as you meet him face to face, nose to nose.

He sees you trying to formulate words, a sentence, even a sound but none of it seems like a totally accurate way to express the adoration threatening to consume you from the inside out. You graze his cheek with your mouth, slowly, tentatively, and he hangs on with half an air full of lungs.

You suckle his bottom lip and he sighs into your mouth, the relief making him lightheaded. He kicks into gear and pushes back with an overlap of his mouth - hands wandering over the small of your back, to your soft lovehandles and upwards until his fingrtips have passed your jugular and he's holding your face as tenderly as you're holding his.

It's now, when you feel it - the growing firmness beneath he thin material of his bottoms. He tries to keep it at bay but it's damn near impossible, and the whimper, the fucking whimper you let out when his soft tongue touches yours from the warm cavern of your mouth - he couldn't stop it from twitching even if he wanted to. He's only a man.

And you're a menace. As new as this is, your body reacts to the prod in between your legs, underneath your crotch. You press yourself tighter to his frame, hips scooching against his hard-on in the process and he stiffens.

"Mmm, baby baby..." your pout is immediate when he breaks from your mouth, brows furrowed and lips a kiss bitten fuschia. For a moment, you think you've taken it too far too fast - he's stopped you from moving completely. Your whole body burns with a tingly sensation somewhere between shame and the aftershocks of arousal.

"Are you...are you okay? Did I do something wrong?"

You sound so sweet, it makes his lower belly ache among other things. He stifles a laugh brcause he knows it will only make you feel worse. Something wrong. Something wrong.

"Fuck no, I-sorry I just uh...almost..." He can't bring himself to say it, you guys haven't even been kissing for five whole minutes and here he is about to blow his load. When you realize how close his dark lashes are from kissing his cheeks, how his pupils have almost turned the whole of his irises onyx, you connect the dots.

Woah, you did that to him? That moth in your belly threatens to take flight, and without much thought, your mouth is moving before you can stop it.

"I wanna see."

Those are the only words your brain allows you to spit out. His chest has gone still, and you feel that twitch against your center again. Your thighs have begun to tremble.

"You wanna see...? My cock?" He shouldn't sound so incredulous. You're his girlfriend for christ's sake, but you are important to him. More important than he ever thought anyone could be, and so he has kept his lust at a minimum of 48% when he's around you for the most part. Save for intense makeout sessions.

"Yeah, I wanna...well I wanna know how to make you feel good."

He's worried for a moment that he's having another wet dream, but he's sure this is real life because he feels how warm you are against him and you are so close he can see his own reflection in your eyes. You toy with the shell of his ear and a chill ascends his spine.

"Sweetheart if you touch me m'not gonna last long." His skin is pink and scarlet, and he's gotten at least ten degrees hotter judging by the heat billowing off of the back of his neck. His adams apple bobs when he swallows.

"That's okay, really it is. You have nothing to be embarrassed about....I like it. Like that I make you feel that way. " You rake your fingers through the front of his hair, pushing it away from his pretty face. He checks your eyes again, needing confirmation.

"Are you sure? You don't have to do anything you don't want to." He gnaws on the inside of his plush mouth, tries to calm the animal inside of him that wants to fuck your brains out right now. He almost feels guilty just thinking about it, until you lean over to peck the side of his stubbly chin, fingertips grazing his taut belly.

"Yes, really wanna."

There is a curious, nervous anticipation in the crinkle underneath your eyes.

"Kay' baby, explore all you want." The boyish smirk he gives is enough to have that knee buckling tingling sensation coming back full force as he presents himself to you like this. Does he seem as pulled together and totally not overly nervous as he thinks he does? Probably not.

His arms depart from your body, ribs expanding as he reclines on his palms. Tendons flex and stretch underneath the black bats and fuzzy layer of hair atop his forearm. You swallow, intimidated by the beauty of the boy.

You find the courage to finally move off of his lap so that you can take him all in, and the bulge of his cock swipes the underside of your thigh as you slide off.

You don't know where to touch first. That's a lie, your hands almost instinctively slip underneath the hem of his old shirt, where that dark thatch of hair trails under his belly button. He's soft, so soft it's unreal, he is velvet and delicious scarring and beauty marks. His tummy convulses underneath your hand.

He watches you with complete fixation. You have your bottom lip tucked between your teeth and you don't even realize it, all perched and pretty in front of him. He closes his eyes when you explore his sides, over the planes and arches and past the small stretch marks by his chest.

You can't ignore it anymore, the tent that has formed at his crotch and continues to throb with each passing touch.

The blunt of your nails rake down the soft plaid covering thick thighs, and he takes this sharp breath that has you glancing up at him with heavy eyes.

"So pretty...Eds you're so pretty." You say it ardently, your voice small and weak. An arm reaches down, strong but gentle as he strokes the back of your plush cheek with his ring covered knuckles.

"Can't fucking believe...can't believe you're mine, finally. Shit." He's almost murmuring to himself again, on the verge of cardiac arrest. Maybe he's losing his mind, maybe this is heaven.

Then your palm presses against the thick of his cock where it's bulging out, and his thighs spasm.

"Oh, oh." He's all curses and praises, giving you encouraging glances each time you look up at him to silently ask for guidance. You move your hand up and down what you assume is his shaft, and he keeps his hips from bucking into your touch. He feels thick, and the back of your mouth starts to water.

Without warning you're hooking your fingers into his waistband, and he lifts his hips in compliance so that you can pull them down to his mid thigh. He has no time for nerves anymore. Any fear he previously had about what his dick looks like, or what you'll think of it, is stripped along with his clothing. You're looking at him with too much love for him to be insecure - and that takes him by surprise the most.

At this point his checkered boxers are just in the way, and you take it upon yourself to pull those down too. A thud hits his belly.

And really, you should've known. He's big. Not because he's impossibly long, his size is above average but he's thick - the tip iridescent with precum, the same shade of plum as his lips underneath the slick sheen. He is slightly curved upwards, a prominent vein decorating the underside parallel to his frenulum. It's pretty, just like the rest of him. He's neatly trimmed, which is the most surprising part if you're honest - but nothing about Eddie could ever be displeasing to look at.

Your mouth is parted with this expression of surprise, and Eddie almost can't believe what this is doing for his ego.

"Woah." Is all you say, transfixed when you reach out to grasp the appendage. He hisses through his teeth when your small hand finally grasps it, so fucking warm and so gentle it's almost maddening. You both feel it, the invisible weight that has settled in his small, messy room.

The weight of being alone, together, all night and all of tomorrow afternoon while his uncle Wayne is away on a business trip that is probably more lucrative than what he leads on - but Wayne has never been one to boast or speak about things like that out loud. Says it'll jinx the whole thing.

The feeling hits you first, as you find this foreign courage to lean over and dribble spit over the slit of his cock. He gasps, watching the glob of saliva drip down the front of his dick till it's soaking into the curls at his pubic mound.

"Is this okay?" You already know the answer but you ask anyways, taking more pride than you should at the expression on the pretty metalheads face. He nods his head fervently, unable to respond right away.

You twist your palm, spreading your spit further until his whole head is covered and you're able to stroke him with no resistance.

"Fuuuck, yes. Yeah, that's so good baby." He's panting as you begin to properly jerk the tip of him off, the sounds in the room too lewd for you to handle. A squelchy feeling has developed between your thighs, led by each filthy groan that leaves your boyfriend's throat.

Then you're looking at him through fluttery lashes and a gone expression, with your chest rising and falling almost as rapidly as his and thick fingers grasp your wrist quickly, rougher than anticipated.

"Sorry, just - close."

Seeing his hand blanket yours over his cock is doing something to you. You know his palms like your own, hold them more than you look at your own, and yet right now such a sweet thing has never been more provocative.

"Shh, no more apologizing," you lean over and he meets you in the middle. The kiss is sloppy this time, evidence of the maddening desire taking him over from the inside out.

"Not fair," his voice is strained through your mouths ministrations. "Got me all worked up and you're sitting there neglected." He smiles and his tongue strokes your bottom lip. You shudder as that heat comes in an overwhelming wave.

He's gripping the back of your neck now, properly hungry and your hand continues its ministrations between your bodies, that wet sound prompting a shared groan from the both of you - intensifying the feeling. His nose is scrunched against your cheek from the vigour of his kisses.

"You can undress me."

He doesn't waste time once you've granted him verbal permission, and with an exhale you're being tipped over onto your back, breathing in the weight of him as nimble and eager fingers pull his tee shirt over and off your body.

"Jesus," He whines, and you're captivated by the look on his face. It's impossible not to feel flustered.

"Can I-" you don't let him finish.

"Yes, please touch me." You're just as fucked as he is, arching your chest upwards and into the warm, all encompassing mass of his palm. He stifles a groan, cock bobbing up and down in the space between you two, dribbling with a bead of pre arousal. You feel like you're losing your mind.

Eddie short circuits for about five whole seconds flat, and he can't concentrate. He makes a bee - line to your chest, plush lips sucking your swollen nipples into his mouth. A gasp and a pulse of your poor clit later, and your fingers delve into his curls like they'll keep you here in this moment forever.

He's sloppy, moving between the valley of your breasts to the other one, leaving trails of spit across your flesh.

"Eddie, that - that feels so good, can't - mmph." You're a mess. How are you such a mess? He's a phantom, a head of hair across your sternum until he glances up at you with saliva soaked lips and red cheeks and a sweaty forehead.

"Sweet girl, oh god I can't believe..." All you taste is him, the words being uttered between the space when he forces himself to breathe. "can't believe you're all mine, wanna make you feel so fucking good. Give you anythin' you want."

He lies his full weight on you, and through the thin sleeping shorts you've got on, his cock beckons you with throbs and weeps. You feel drunk off of him, every sense surrounded by Eddie. Eddie. Eddie.

His shampoo from two days ago, the old spice lingering under his arms, the natural scent of his skin, the sweetness of his breath and the perspiration that's formed in little beads on his upper lip. He's all but devouring you, lust and admiration for the angel beneath him taking over any sense of importance regarding anything else.

Your heels dig into the back of his bum, knees pulling inward so that his hips come clashing into yours. Your fingernails claw on the material covering his back, taking it upon themselves to pull it over his head. He's beaming like a kid in a candy store at your eagerness, eyes all crinkly underneath.

"Want me to grab a rubber now?" He mumbles between the sloppy kisses, hoping you can't hear the hitch in his throat at the prospect of this finally happening.

"Mhmm, yes." It feels just as surreal for you.

He whines as he departs, reaching over across your head to pull open his bedside drawer and ungracefully tear open the new box of condoms. His eyebrows are furrowed, arms flexing with intensity from his excitement. He groans out of frustration, and you giggle, grasping his thick forearm.

"Let me help baby." You reach in the drawer for him and pull the box out, finishing the rip he'd made and pulling out a metallic row of squares. You tear one at the perforation and hand it to him, grinning at the entire situation. He huffs and rests his forehead between the valley of your breasts.

"What would I do without you?" He mutters, matching your expression when he lifts his head back up and pushes forward to kiss you on the tip of your nose.

"Not have sex, I suppose." You bite back with no hint of malice, only an insurmountable level of love and he sees it shimmering everywhere around you. His girl. His.

"You're somethin' else, sweetheart." He mouths the side of your face, across your jaw and underneath your ear.

You feel like you're in a psychological limbo, in a world between consciousness as he sits back on his haunches and lifts his shirt off of his body from the back of his collar. That may be a dramatic sentiment to many, but it's fitting.

He does it so casually, throws his shirt to the side with the rest of discarded clothing and stray items that live on his bedroom floor. You feel weak in the knees when he tears the condom package and pulls out the slippery rubber, unraveling it before bringing it down to his cock.

You watch his face the way his pink tongue darts out and nips the tip of his tongue, brows furrowed in concentration and arousal as he fits the condom down his thick shaft. You watch his biceps twist, his taut abdomen clench, the black ink coming alive with the ministrations of his muscles underneath.

When he meets your eyes again, you look completely overtaken with desire, eyelids heavy and breath bated. Your pebbled nipples stand at full attention, mimicking his dick and Eddie hooks his fingers underneath those infuriatingly sexy shorts of yours so that he can get rid of them.

You're not wearing underwear. Of course you aren't. Your entire existence is specifically designed to test the bounds of his composure, of his strength. The gold room lighting from his lamp illuminates your body and your shy thighs only part when he's placing his palms between them, slowly encouraging them to allow him a peek or two.

You reach out to stroke his arms as he separates your legs, his jaw hanging ever so slack, cock twitching just a few centimeters away from your opening.

"Fucking hell...you're so goddamn pretty." He strains, swallowing hard as he touches you with hesitant hands, as if he's scared to break you. Your hips lift, just enough to make contact with the tip of his dick and you whine. It's a sound so sweet he almost whimpers himself.

"Please, Eds. I want you inside of me. Please."

His stomach tightens and he crawls over you once again, stroking your cheek with his thumb.

He maintains eye contact, breath fanning your mouth as he slips an arm between your bodies and grips his shaft, lining it up with your entrance. Your thighs lift towards your chest, ankles stationed at his waist, and you feel the welcome intrusion of his tip as it passes your slick labia.

You both take a breath in, your fingers needing a vice and moving to the back of his neck as he pivots his hips forward and slips himself into the tightness of your cunt. The stretch causes you to hiss, both in pleasure and pain.

"You okay? Let me know if I need to stop." He grunts, kissing your chin.

"M'okay, don't you dare stop."

His eyelids flutter in tandem with yours, a choked moan leaving his throat as he continues to push himself in, till he's nudging against the soft roundness of your cervix and his balls are resting against your ass.

It feels right. Having him this deep, this close.

You shudder nuzzling your face against the bicep that holds him up. You kiss the skin there and he groans, dragging himself back out and then back in. Your whole body jostles with the movement.

"Jesus Christ, how do you feel s'fucking good? I don't - I can't, fuck." He's a slur of words, beginning to form a steady rhythm. Your moans are more like squeaks the faster he goes, increasing the lewd, sticky sounds between your legs that squelch with each drag and pull of his cock.

"Eddie...E-eddie." Your words are hiccuped from the impact, his hair dangling in your face, tickling your cheeks. His belly is pressed right against yours, the curls at the mound of his pelvis pressed against yours. He lets out this pained sound and goes to bury his face in the crook of your neck.

"My name, fuck say it again. Say it again." It's muffled but you can hear it right underneath your ear, his lips a soft vibration against your flesh. You feel so full, it's hard to speak at all. To say anything other than his name. So you recite it like it's the only words you know.

"Eddie Eddie Eddie Eddie." They're all punctuated with a whimper that starts from your diaphragm and crawls it's way out of your throat, pistoned by his hips and their grueling ministrations. Skin against skin can be heard from down the park, you're convinced, with how he's fucking you.

Eddie is fucking you. Your boyfriend, Eddie, is fucking you.

"Ohhhh, god, please." You cry out, heels digging into his back, hands splayed across the broad expanse of his shoulder blades. Every breath that passes his lips is followed by a grunt, a groan, a sound that is so close to agony and even closer to toe curling pleasure.

Each stroke of his cock inside of you feels like a pull into his being, and you get frustrated with the fact that you can't see his face, tugging at the back of his neck.

When you look up at the boy above you, reality, for once, feels like the most beautiful thing you've ever endured.

He's flushed, all sweat and shades of pink and red. His eyes are glassy, mirroring yours in the way that it almost looks like he could shed a tear. You move his sticky bangs from his forehead and Eddie is sucker punched in the gut with a wave of adoration.

"Oh, sweetheart," he leans down, slowing his thrusts so that he can kiss you steadily, purposefully. Somehow he feels deeper this way impossibly so, and he nips your bottom lip when you flutter around him. "didn't mean to...to not show you attention m'sorry, just...you feel so good. S'like heaven."

He's half sober half drunk on your pussy and it's so fucking endearing. Neither of you can make out a coherent sentence.

"Keep - keep going, just like that, ohhh." You glance down between your bodies and somewhere behind your organs a warmth, teetering unbearable, flutters throughout your limbs. His arms shake with the fight to hold himself up, until he doesn't anymore, and slips his hands underneath you till they're sandwiched between the mattress and your back. Snug, safe, he engulfs you.

His thrusts are deep and slow now, meaningful instead of mindless bunny fucking. Which, he's not opposed to, but you're you. He wants to fuck you like he might not ever get the chance to again.

"I love you, I love you." He whimpers against the crook of your shoulder. You hold him with the same ferocity that he's holding you, staring up at the ceiling and the stars that blanket your vision instead of the fan above.

"I love you too, fuck, Eddie."

He makes this noise, it's almost pathetic. Petulant. That coil holding you tight, snaps and all at once you're gasping, thighs a deadly grip around his waist.

"Cu-Cumming, I'm cumming." Your walls flex and spasm around his length and Eddie thinks he might pass out. You're still twitching and whining his name with his balls are emptying, when he's spurting into the condom, nudging your cervix.

"Fuck, fuck just like tha- ohhh fuck." He thrusts like he's fucking his cum into you, like he's filling your womb up and making you his forever. He made you cum. He's never felt this high before, and he's a fucking drug dealer.

It's a mixture of panting and the thud of your shared heartbeat for what feels like eternity and one split second. You feel his lips peppering soft, gentle kisses along your jugular, and your fingers trace lines up and down his warm back as his cock softens inside of you.

He rubs his cheek against you, and your fingers pull his hair away from his pretty face. He's looking at you with so much love you could burst again.

"I love you so much." He speaks tenderly, softly, for once. It's scary and breathtaking all at once. The tip of his nose rubs yours, your smiles a reflection of the other.

"I love you too, Munson."

And you do. You really fucking do.

[lovings4turn]

becca, my love. i saw that your blurb requests are open, so can i request oscar with "taking off their makeup when they're too tired"? thank you!

ᯓ★  𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐥 — 𝐨𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐫 𝐩𝐢𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐢

ahhh nora lovely thank you sm for sending this in !!! adore writing for oscar so thank you for giving me the opportunity to 🤭🤭 this ended up being longer than i expected but what can i say i got carried away !!! hope you like this lovely

indistinct dialogue washes over you as your ears tune in to the sound of oscar’s heartbeat, the sound much more preferable to the drama of the characters currently on the screen in front of you. 

curled against your boyfriend’s chest, the glow of the television washing over you both and bathing you in a fuzzy, low light, you find it hard to keep your eyes open for longer than a minute at a time. 

oscar is just so warm, the fabric of his hoodie against your skin so soft, and you had woken up disgustingly early that morning for an eight am class that preceded a long study session at the library. so, it’s no surprise that your exhaustion is quickly catching up to you, a lion stalking its prey.

since his gaze has been resting on you rather than the random sit-com for the past ten minutes, oscar is quick to notice the drowsiness consuming your features. 

“let’s get you to bed, eh?” oscar asks, patting your side twice with the tips of his fingers to prompt you to stand.

“i’m not even that tired,” you protest, words coming out in a low whine thanks to your desperation to remain in the warm embrace of oscar’s arms.

“tell that to your eyes, sweetheart. they’re practically closed.”

almost on cue, you lift your hand to rub at your tired eyes before you stop abruptly, loose fist hovering just in front of your face. a frustrated noise escapes you, and your head falls back against oscar’s chest at the realisation.

“i still have to take my makeup off.”

oscar fixes you with a look of amused pity. though he’s clearly sympathetic to your plight, he’d be lying if he said he didn’t find your theatrics somewhat entertaining.

strong arms wrap around your waist, and oscar gently helps you to your feet, sending you off to bed with the promise that he’ll be right behind you.

curiosity picks at your mind, but you’re far too tired to argue or ask questions. your body operates on autopilot as it leads you down the hall to your bedroom, and you flop down onto the soft mattress without hesitation.

never had you been more thankful at oscar’s insistence that you wear his clothes as much as possible: already dressed in one of his old t-shirts and some pyjama shorts, getting changed into something cosier was not a problem you would have to tackle tonight.

oscar appears a few minutes later, and it seems that he’s brought the entirety of your skincare shelf with him. countless bottles and tubs are piled up in his arms, threatening to spill over as he fumbles towards the bed. 

with furrowed brows, oscar drops the bundle of products onto your comforter and lets out a breath, beginning to survey the many different items sitting in front of him. “right then, let’s see,” he mumbles, picking up one product at a time and scanning the labels with such an intensity that, had you the energy, you would have teased him for.

“moisturiser, no. facial scrub, no. hyaluronic aci- what even is this stuff?”

you can’t help it. a laugh bubbles up in your throat, and though your eyes are heavy with sleep, oscar can see the way that the crinkle slightly at the intensity of your smile.

as fun as it is to listen to oscar grow increasingly confused with each skincare product he scrutinises, you decide it’s best to put him out of his misery sooner rather than later. “purple bottle, babe. might wanna grab some cotton pads, too. next to where you grabbed everything else from.”

oscar follows your instructions instantly, setting your makeup remover off to the side before he scoops the other products up into his arms once more, heading to return them to their rightful home in your bathroom. he soon returns triumphant, holding up the packet of cotton pads in his left hand as though it’s one of his racing trophies.

idiot, you think fondly.

soon, he’s sitting beside you, tilting your face upwards towards him with two fingers. the movement is tender, and you can’t help but lean forward to press a kiss to the bridge of his nose.

with a level of care you imagine someone would reserve for a newborn, oscar begins to swipe away at your makeup, putting a lot of effort into not tugging at your skin.

every so often, he speaks, questions of “feel alright?” and “not hurting you, am i?” filling the otherwise peaceful silence. 

each time your answer is the same: a slight shake of the head with a reassuring hum. you’re convinced that oscar could never be anything but tender with you, and this only adds to your hypothesis. 

a few seconds pass, and you can no longer feel oscar wiping at your face. your eyes flutter open, greeted by the sight of oscar admiring you with an adoring expression.

a light flush dusts the top of his cheekbones, and his lips are pulled up into a foolish, love-sick grin. he doesn’t shy away when he realises he’s been caught, only moves to press a chaste kiss to your lips. “now,” he starts, voice playful. “wanna tell me what the next step is, babe?”

[stargazedwinchester]

Soft Sounds | Dean

Summary: Dean mocks you for listening to nature sounds/lo-fi music while you sleep.

Based off of this request here, thank you! <3

Word count: 996

♱⁺. ⋆˙✧⋆✧˙⋆⊹.♱

Sleeping with any sort of noise has always been so comforting for you, having to live with the loud sounds of the world, all of the trauma you've endeavoured keeps you awake at night, memories creeping back from the most horrific times in your life.

You bought yourself your own little white noise machine a week ago, it makes multiple different sounds, and your favourites are lo-fi music and rain/thunder sounds. It's not every night that you have to use this, though, but it really does help. Especially with sleeping alone, your brain loves to play tricks on you during your quietest hours.

Tonight, you turn on your machine, clicking the button on top to change which sound you'd prefer to hear tonight. Your door is slightly ajar, knowing that the brothers were in the kitchen sharing a couple of beers and catching up. You had already told them you're going to have an early night for once and try to catch up on a lot of sleep you've missed out on recently. Doing this could probably help your awful sleep schedule.

You change into your pyjamas, a t-shirt and shorts combo that you threw on from the night before. Trying to look good while you slept is never the first thought since you literally live with two men who couldn't give any less of a crap, also, you're not dating either of them. You climb into bed and throw the covers over you, moving your hair out of your face, and lay on your side. Scrolling through your phone, you try to focus on the sounds coming from your machine, and within minutes, you're knocked out.

♱⁺. ⋆˙✧⋆✧˙⋆⊹.♱

As Sam and Dean call it a night, Sam stays to watch a movie in the main room, whilst Dean makes his way down toward the bedrooms. He notices your bedroom door is still slightly open, and he assumes you're awake.

"Hey, Y/-" He pauses, seeing you're fast out with your phone screen lit up, the lights still on and some noise coming from a weird-looking radio. He frowns, not knowing what is going on. He very quietly makes his way into your bedroom, and locks your phone, placing it on your bedside table. He dims the lights as he pads on over to your radio. "What the Hell is this?" He asks himself, keeping his voice just above a whisper. He glances at the tiny screen that presents what's playing. "She sleeps to this?" He scoffs, and a small grin appears on his face. He looks back at you, huffing. "This is such a Y/N thing to have." He says, standing back up and glancing over at you. Why would she ever own something like this? He thought to himself. It's stupid.

Your positioning in bed makes Dean chuckle to himself. You quite literally take up the whole bed, sprawled out like a starfish. It's mostly funny to him because of how cute you look when you're completely conked out. Your hair in your face, your shirt slightly riding up your torso from the amount of times you've tried to get comfy. "Hold on, is that my shirt?" He laughs quietly, admiring how natural you are.

Dean usually goes for the typical blonde, blue-eyed type of girl. The ones that show that they know they're sexy, that they can get any man they desire, but you - you were different. You never gave a damn about how you looked. If someone liked you, you'd make sure they get every single side of you, every single flaw and weakness. Having Dean see you completely barefaced and look like you just collapsed on your bed was the least of your worries.

Dean's gaze hovers over you for another minute or so, he catches himself smiling, noticing how comfy you are. You shuffle, which scares him a little, panicking that you're going to wake up to him watching you sleep.

"Dean?"

"Y-yeah?" He whispers, taking his hands out of his pockets.

"What are you doing in here?" You groan, wiping your hair out of your face, barely opening your eyes. "I um, heard your little radio thing and... I got curious." He says, an awkward smile appearing on his full lips. He reaches up and scratches the back of his head. You hum quietly in agreement with what he said. Whether Dean understood or not, it didn't matter. "Are you staying?" You mumble, shuffling yourself to the side to make more room. You quietly pat the side of the bed, inviting Dean to join you.

His heart skipped a beat. Sharing a bed with the only girl who genuinely liked him for him? It's almost unbelievable.

"Are you sure? I can go back to my room-"

"Dean, just get in." You say, pulling the covers open for him. His eyes lit up and the smile on his face looked as if it had been slapped on. He takes off his flannel shirt revealing his dark grey t-shirt underneath, and also taking his jeans off down to his underwear. He gently sits down on your bed, ensuring there's still enough space for you. He keeps his space, though, not wanting to give any wrong ideas. "Why were you looking at my machine?" You say, and Dean grins. "It looks weird. Why do you sleep with it?"

"It's to help me sleep."

"It's to help me sleep," He mocks, shutting his eyes. "Just sleep in silence, it's not that hard." He adds, and you huff. "So funny." You grin, slowly moving closer toward him. "It's nice though, really nice..." He trails, his eyes are fully shut, and his body is relaxing. "Come here," He says, adjusting himself so he's lying slightly above you, and you move in to lay on his chest, your leg intertwined with his. He keeps his arm rested above his head, his other hand caressing your hair. "This is nice," He mumbles, almost instantly drifting to sleep.

[tired-biscuit]

18+ mdni / fem!reader

I think Bakugou would do a little grunt whenever you'd touch his dick.

It's bound to happen more frequently if it's a sexual touch, of course. Like, when you find yourself on your knees in front of him - pressing a soft kiss onto his sensitive, pink tip, for example. Messily smearing the bead of pre-cum with your lips before taking a couple of inches of his cock down your tight throat. Sucking him so hard, then, that he feels the need to repeat the noise and lace it with a dirty curse, before he spills much too fast, much too soon for his liking; making you taste the bitter salt of his cum with a furrowed brow and a frown.

He grunts whenever your legs wrap around his waist, and he gets to sink balls deep inside of your wet warmth for the first time after literal days of hard work and that wretched prohero schedule of his; holding you in a firm, albeit loving mating press that lets him see you entirely as he at long last plunges into your soft cunt and proceeds to screw your soul out with that steady pat, pat, pat.

And he also grunts as he bends you over and makes that first contact with your sticky slit after leering for ages at how beautiful you look; attired in that pretty dress he only sees you pull out of your closet on date nights - the dress that always seems to end up hiked up around your waist by the time you come back home from the restaurant.

He grunts as you reach out to stroke him with only one of your hands before bed to make him relax; right over his underwear until that damp patch forms on the dark cotton, and you're smirking at him like a cat when your thumb grazes it. Grunts as he wakes up in the middle of the night and feels the need to fuck your thighs and turn you into a whining mess just to get back at you for earlier. Grunts as you straddle him then, too; the intent to sit on his cock and ride it into bliss riddling your sleepy features.

He always grunts at things like that.

But sometimes, a grunt slips out when you could just be messing around with him. Sure, Katsuki might not seem like a person to enjoy a silly thing like that - having a woman merely poking and playing with his dick, like it's a toy - but he endures it all because it's you who does it. After all, comfort has long since settled inside of his heart after years of being in an established relationship.

So, they're playfully innocent things. Him groaning as you absent-mindedly rub your ass against his crotch when you pass by him to get to the sink in your little kitchen; mind working on assembling a grocery list instead of thinking about sin, whilst he's left there to sweat and strain his pyjama bottoms just from a mere brush.

Your hand slipping when a rare opportunity shows up and you can shower together, making him groan as you cover both his skin and your own in strawberry-scented foam that makes him scrunch his nose in faux disapproval until he feels the need to call you childish, even though the corners of his lips are twitching upwards during it.

Sometimes, it's just you hiking your leg over his waist when you cuddle on the couch, putting it right there with no aim to arouse whatsoever. You're both trying to watch a movie you'll perhaps - probably not - finish for once; reaching the credits without falling asleep, and he's already grunting, softly scolding you that the weight of your leg makes his balls hurt, making you laugh.

And sometimes, he grunts just because he's so tired as you unbuckle his belt to help him undress after an especially rough day at work. Your knuckle runs over the zipper of his pants by pure accident whilst you drag it down, and the sound comes out deep from the back of his throat because he just can't help it.

Just like he can't help the grunt of relief when you finally drag him into bed a couple of minutes later; cuddling him to sleep until his face is nuzzled right against your chest, expression content because he's finally home.

[vivwritesfics]

HIIIIII

Frist of all love yoz

Second of all, need thus fro my sick ass lol

SO THINKING

Multiple drivers, seb, fernando, max, Charles, carlos,Liam, logan, lando and oscar?

Yeah

Aftercare, like after sex lol.

Like how would they all ve

Would someone be like wipe her off then make sure she nevers leaves the bed cuae snuggles??

Who would be the one that has a whole ass routine and makes it into this thing??

You cna add some other 🫶

Love xoz

ngl i think i hate doing multi driver fics like this -- like i don't feel like im putting my best work forward because im doing several different scenarios

also i couldn't think for all of the drivers so i've only done the first four

warnings: smut, aftercare, daddy kink + sub space mentioned (fernando),

Seb

firstly, i think seb would make sure his partner has cum multiple times by the time they finish

and i think that we can all agree that seb is something of a rough partner

dominating and rough, in just the way she liked it

the very first thing seb does is wipe her off and get her into the bath

while she's bathing he gets her water and tea and sets up the bed so that she'll be comfortable

he's so fucking sweet after being so rough

would kiss the bruising his grip caused

Fernando

y'all don't understand how badly i wanna be railed by this man

i think the tumblr community is quite unanimous in the fact that he has a daddy kink

if anybody can make their power drop into sub space

most of his aftercare focuses on pulling his partner out of sub space

his touches are soft and he makes sure she's had something to eat and drink

makes sure she's in expensive pyjamas and that she's wrapped up in a blanket

that being said, the most important part for Fernando is that she's eaten something

he sits her down after he's cleaned her up, gets her something to drink and cooks for her so that her post sex meal is fresh and hot

Max

omg just imagine a quickie with max

like instead of opening FIFA packs before a race, he's fucking her

aftercare isn't all that practical when he's about to get into a car

but he cleans her up as best he can

usually using his tongue

saves her hair from public scrutiny by giving her one of his hats to wear

she's on shaking legs when she heads into the garage to watch him race

Charles

scenario for this is fucking Charles on the yacht

the first thing this man does is kiss all over when he's done

any hickeys and bruises get the most attention

but then he's cleaning her up with a wet cloth

and she's putting on a fresh bikini

the two of them lay close together in the sun

her arm and her leg over his as he checks through his messages

but soon she's back on top of him

and they're kissing again

and they're ready to go all over again

[gojozaiacc]

PARTING IS SUCH SWEET SORROW, Chuuya Nakahara

Chuuya Nakahara x fem!!clingy!!reader

Summary: Chuuya had been called for a long overseas mission and his girlfriend isn’t ready to let him go just yet.

tw!! MDNI, smut, swearing, sexual themes, fluff, dazai mentions, adult themes

Note: this takes place when Chuuya is 18 around the time Dazai is still with the mafia!! :)) it’s slightly rushed in the end I apologise!!

5am was the time that Chuuya was supposed to roll out of bed and start packing. Recently promoted to an executive role just a mere 8 months ago in the mafia, he had found that being in that position required him to go on a lot of overseas missions-- though he supposed being the strongest ability-wise had a hand in the matter too.

Such as today. Mori had ordered him to go overseas again for a mission of 'high importance'- this time for 2 weeks. Chuuya didn't usually mind long missions overseas but it had gotten much more difficult when he acquired himself a girlfriend. Correction; a very clingy girlfriend.

Though he loved that about her. He liked feeling wanted by her and it's not as if he isn't clingy with her too. When he wasn't working he was at home- usually clung to her when she cooked for him or when they were watching shitty movies in bed. They're just two lovesick teenagers so it wasn't like they felt suffocated by one another.

However, there are definitely times when her clinginess can be slightly distracting- like now. He had planned to get up out of bed at 5am and be well on his way to the airport for at least 7am, the problem? y/n woke up before he could get out of bed.

At first, she hadn't done anything major, she had simply clung tighter to him and grumbled sleepily when feeling his attempt to shift off of the mattress. He had sighed and said he'd stay with her for five more minutes. Those 5 minutes turned into an hour the second she had made the decision to press a kiss to his jawline.

He had sighed and threw his head back against the pillow because he knew what she doing. She was trying to tempt him to stay longer. And for around 2 minutes it didn't work before it inevitably did. At around 5:45 they were already half-naked under the sheets- her having moved to straddle his hips to bracket him against the mattress.

In fairness, Chuuya should have probably seen this coming. When he had told her about the overseas mission the night prior he had seen it all over her face. Disappointment. She had pouted and complained about not being able to see him for 2 weeks- possibly even longer if the mission required it. He had simply drawn her into his chest to embrace her- allowing her to cling to him as tightly as she usually would.

He had anticipated her to hug him tighter to her side. To cling to him so tightly that she'd leave red indents on his sides. But he hadn't anticipated her climbing onto him and kissing him so affectionately that it would physically pain him if he were to pull away from her.

Hadn't anticipated her tugging his and her pyjamas away in order to connect their bodies on a much deeper level. Practically swallowing him whole with her arms around him- soft needy gasps leaving her lips whenever he would roll his hips up lazily into her. Continuing to kiss him even after they had reached their peaks until he was forced to break the kiss, panting.

"I have-"His words get cut short as she presses another kiss to his lips. --"to go, doll."He murmured against her lips, grunting as she rolled her hips once more.

"need to- shit-" he pauses again to let out a moan when feeling her shift on his lap- her mouth pressed against his jaw. He caves once more and finds himself rolling them over so she is pressed into the mattress and he is between her legs- his mouth pressing to hers so unbelievably softly. --"pack.."He breathes into her mouth- rolling his own hips forward to draw a soft noise of affirmation from her.

"D'you have to?"She whispered gently against his lips. --"Can't Mori send someone else?"She murmured, her hands moving to his back- fingers scratching angry red lines against his skin when he would hit that spot inside her.

"H-Have to, doll."He answers, moving his lips to her collarbone as his hand reaches beneath the cover to find her thigh and hike it up to his hips in order to hit much deeper- his movements slow and delightfully intimate.

"They need me and my shitty partner to deal with something."He sighed against her lips whilst squeezing her thigh comfortingly- feeling her tense up beneath him signalling her impending second release of the morning. A whimper left her lips and she moved her hands from his back to cup his cheeks and draw their mouths together again- kissing him like he was already halfway out the door. Though it did feel like it to her.

With a soft moan of his name and hers- they came apart together, panting into each other as they rode out their highs together. Her hands moved again to his back- caressing his freckled skin affectionately.

Chuuya's chest heaves as he leans his mouth up to press his lips against her sweaty hairline- not moving from her just yet. --"Please don't go.."She mumbled weakly to him causing him to sigh in amusement. --"I'd bring ya with me if I could, dollface."He hummed softly, his hand lifting to press against her cheek causing her to immediately lean into his touch.

"I'll be back before you know it, yeah?" he says, offering her a lovesick smile- pressing another kiss to her lips, forehead and nose before finally peeling himself away from her.

A sad and dramatic sigh leaves her swollen lips as she lay on the matress, pouting. A couple of hours, a shared hot shower and some speedy packing later and Chuuya was standing at their door- shrugging on his coat as he bickered with his partner, Dazai over the phone about being late to the meetup.

y/n stood in one of his shirts and her underwear- taking a moment to bask in how close they were in height meaning his shirt fit her perfectly. She stayed close to him, her arms wrapped loosely around his side as he hissed at Dazai through the phone for a few seconds before eventually hanging up with a 'stupid fucking Mackerel' muttered under his breath.

"Shitty Dazai's always late but the one time I'm late he loses his shit."He muttered in annoyance as he shoved his phone into his pocket and drew her closer to his chest. She giggled gently at his annoyed tone.

She had met Chuuya's partner before (much to Chuuya's dismay) purely by accident and quickly discovered that she found the bandaged man rather humorous. She couldn't exactly lie- she enjoys it when Chuuya bickers with Dazai over the phone- seeing Chuuya get so worked up and annoyed at his partner never fails to amuse her.

He sighed as he hugged her close to him- the watermelon scent of her shampoo comforting him. Forcing a smile onto her face, she lifted her arms to wrap around his neck. --"Don't be surprised if your shirts reek of me when you come back."She hums, carding her fingers through his hair affectionately.

A snicker is what she gets as a response followed by a shake of his head. --"You don't reek." he chuckles, his eyes crinkling as he laughs and moves one of his hands to pinch the shoulder of the shirt she wore. --"Steal as many as you like, pretty girl."He tells her.

She hums in acknowledgement as he leans forward to capture her lips in what was supposed to be a quick kiss but lasted slightly longer than he intended (mostly because of her). However, Chuuya knew he couldn't be any later than he already was otherwise he'd never hear the end of it from his annoying partner. Thus the second he felt her trying to tug him closer he was breaking the kiss to chuckle.

"I have to go."He repeats for what feels like the millionth time to her. She frowns but nods her head with a sigh. --"Okay...one last kiss?" She asks entirely too innocently for his liking. The amused smile never leaves his lips. --"Just one more."He mutters before connecting their lips once more- staying true to his word and disconnecting from her a mere 5 seconds later.

y/n's heart sinks as she watches him grab ahold of his shoulder bag. --"Call me when you land?"She asks as he pulls open their front door. He nods in response and turns once more to grab ahold of her face- pressing a chaste kiss to her forehead.

"I promise."He told her gently, stroking her cheek with his thumb briefly before taking the step outside. --"I'll see you in two weeks, love."He bids her goodbye with a heartfelt smile on his face and another kiss against her forehead.

She frowns as she leans against the doorframe, watching his figure disappear down the hall towards the elevator- she debated following after him but decided against it when remembering she was only wearing her underwear below Chuuya's shirt.

With one last wave from the redhead, he stepped into the elevator and he was gone. A sigh leaves her lips and she steps back into their shared apartment, shutting the door and immediately slumping against it with a frown on her face as she began her anxious 2 week wait for his return.

[flamingo-writes]

what about Hobie dragging the reader to their apartment after a party and they're babbling and drunkenly hitting on Hobie, completely oblivious to the fact that he's their boyfriend

like "hey, handsome, can you give me your number?" COMING ON HE'S TRYING TO CHANGE YOU AND GET YOU TO BED IN YOUR HOME

I love your work btw

you inspire me to learn english better haha

Pick Up Line — Hobie x Reader

Notes: I wrote this before going to sleep 🫡 it is not proofread (I might do that tomorrow) writing this was so much fun, I only knew what I wanted to write in the beginning, and then I just let everything unfold on it’s own. I didn’t have a title for this until I finished it. I hope you like it!!

Man I have so many requests I’m sorry for posting one thing and then disappearing for months 😭 anyways, here’s the fic:

“No! Put me down! I have a boyfriend!” You groaned with a breathless sigh, feeling the heaviness of the booze weighting down on your body, most of all your mind.

Hobie chuckled as he carried you back to your apartment after one of those self destructive parties the darker alternative scene liked to throw every now and then.

“Oh, you do?” He chuckled with a cheeky tone as you hummed.

“Uh-huh. I do, and he’s the most handsomest, coolest motherfucker…” You replied and let your head fall onto his shoulder as he was carrying you as if you weighted nothing on his arms, with an arm holding your back and on the other your legs. “He’d kick your ass,”

“Oh, would he?” Hobie teased, raising an eyebrow, thinking it was insanely adorable how even on your state you talked so highly and proudly of him in your own way.

“Yup, certified badass shit,” You groaned. “I love him,”

He let out a deep chuckle as he gazed at you and turned on the corner, spotting your flat building a couple of blocks down.

“I’m pretty sure I could kick his ass,” Hobie said, trying to see how you’d react.

“In your dreams,” You sighed deeply.

As he approached your flat building and got inside, in your drunken state probably it would be best to avoid using his Spider-Man skills. You’d either puke, or start yelling that he’s Spider-Man and he wouldn’t risk it. On the bright side, you lived on the third floor.

As he stopped by your door, he gazed at you. “Can hold yourself up for a couple of seconds while I open the door, darlin’?” He asked you, as you giggled.

“Darlin’…” You giggled as you nodded and tried hopping off his arms as he let you down, and you leaned against the wall.

As you patted the pockets of your jacket, you found your keys and took them out as he gently took them off your hands and unlocked your apartment.

In your drunken haze, you started at him with a soft smile, taking in the details. The door squeaking open went unnoticed, your mind was too taken away by Hobie.

“Hey there handsome,” You sighed and closed your eyes. “What are you doing in my apartment?”

“You’re never gonna believe this,” He chucked as he gently grabbed your hand and pulled you in with him. “But I basically live here as well,” he chuckled.

It was partially true. He had his sailboat docked not far from there, but your apartment was wider, and every excuse to spend time with you, he’d take it right away. At this point he spent more nights crashing at your apartment than staying in his sailboat.

“God! What a small world!” You whispered as you let him guide you to your room.

“Isnt it?” He chuckled and as you got to your room, you let yourself collapse on the bed.

“Do you have a phone number I can borrow?” You asked with a cheeky tone, as Hobie chuckled and gazed at you as he looked in your wardrobe for your pyjamas.

Something in his chest squeezing with a sweet nostalgic feeling. It had been the exact same awful pick up line you’d used on him when you’d met him a couple of years ago. The rest was history, and now you were drunk in your apartment with your boyfriend taking care of you.

“What about your badass boyfriend?” He teased as he grabbed your pajama pants and sat on the edge of the bed and helped you take off your shoes.

“God, he’s so badass…I love him,” You sighed sleepily as you closed your eyes, as you slowly came to the realisation that he was taking off your shoes. “What are you doing? Buy me some coffee first,” you giggled with a soft snort.

“It’s too late to find a coffee shop open at this time, luv,” He chuckled and then took off your belt and undid your trousers.

At this point you were more asleep than awake and you let him take your pants off as you kept whining with playful banter. Both hitting on him and telling him about your badass boyfriend. As he managed to get you to put on your pyjama pants and remove everything last bit of uncomfortable accessories or clothes, he helped you get under the bedsheets.

He grabbed some water, aspirins and left them ready on the nightstand besides the bed, knowing the killer hangover you’d be having tomorrow. He then took off his boots, his vest, accessories and got on the bed with you in just his boxers and his t-shirt. By the time he did you were already lost in some dreamland and he simply snugged besides you and wrapped an arm around you before joining you in a deep sleep.

The next morning, he woke up to the sounds of your painful groaning and your husky voice saying:

“I’m never drinking that much ever again…I’m never drinking again, period…”

He opened his eyes, blinking several times before he finally processed your words He chuckled. “You always say that, luv…” He sighed and stared at you.

“Leave me alone…” You whined with a playful voice as you gulped down the water and the aspirins before collapsing on the bed again. “The last thing I remember is Karl and his boyfriend convincing me to do shots with them…”

“That was your mistake, you should know by this point those guys can drink their weight in booze,” He teased.

“I didn’t do anything stupid, did I?”

“You were about to let Mattea dye your hair in the bathroom in the middle of the party,” He explained, “and then ran off to the closest convenience store to try and buy bleach and hair dye…”

“Ah, fuck,”

“That’s when I thought maybe it was time to take you to bed,” He laughed softly. “So I brought you back,”

“Thanks, baby…” You whispered with a sheepish voice and kissed his skinny shoulder.

“You bragged to me the entire time about your boyfriend, by the way,” He teased.

“What?” You asked confused.

“And the proceeds to flirt with me and ask for my number…”

“Bullshit,” You groaned as you blushed softly, starting to remember some things about him carrying you back.

“You pulled out the same terrible pickup line you used the first time we met,” He giggled and looked at you from the corner of his eye.

“Oh my god…” You gasped, burying your face against the pillow in embarrassment. And after a brief silence you said: “did it work, though?” Your questions make Hobie laugh softly as he rolled to his side and looked at you, running his long slender fingers up your spine over the short.

“I’m here, am I not?” He replied with a soft velvet whisper.

[borathae]

Galaxies

"You and he create galaxies when you are together."

Pairing: Witch!Yoongi x Witch!Reader

Genre: established relationship!AU, Comfort Smut, Slice of Life Fluff

Warnings: Domish switch!Yoongi, subby switch!Reader, they're actual soulmates, their connection is so deep i'm in pain, love making, having to stay quiet, some flirty bickering because it's them, a short sexy fight about Dominance, oral (both receiving), handjob, pussy fingering, eye contact & hand holding, lots of kissing, he eats her pussy in multiple ways, and worships her breasts, multiple orgasms (f.receiving), creampie, slight strength kink but make it magical, cowgirl position morphing into lotus position, dirty talk but make it romantic with a pinch of sexy, something magical happens between them, cuddles & snuggles & giggles for aftercare, they're so in love i'm gonna cry

Wordcount: 8k

a/n: i always thought that i couldn't get any more obsessed with them and then i introduced witch!yoongi x witch!reader and i actually became INSANE for them like i'm in pain they're meant for each other 😭💜

《 Bonus Smut to this 》

Yoongi is under the covers, reading, when you enter the room. He looks at you and looks away instantly, doing a terrible job at hiding the widening of his eyes. A flush of his cheeks follows.

“Are you being shy because I’m in my towel?” you ask him in a chuckle.

“I’m not shy”, he defends himself, staring into his book obsessively.

“You’re so silly sometimes”, you say and drop the towel to change into your pyjamas instead. 

Yoongi doesn’t look at you directly even once, but tries to sneak one hidden glance from the corner of his eyes. 

“I saw that”, you tease him for it.

“I didn’t do anything. Whatever, good night”, he babbles and slams the book closed, proceeding to lie down on his side with his back facing you.

He makes you laugh. He is so effortlessly funny.

“Gosh, you silly you. What’s the matter?” you coo, bending down to hug him. 

He has his eyes closed and lips pulled into a thin line, almost as if he is trying really hard not to look. 

You snicker, pecking his cheek.

“I love your silly bum” you say, giving his butt a soft slap as you straighten back up.

Yoongi grumbles something unintelligible.

You bring the towel into the bathroom to dry and get two glasses of water from downstairs. Your grandparents have gone to sleep already, Taehyung and Jungkook seem to have come home as well, judging by the painting equipment on the dining table. They are nowhere to be found, however their jackets are missing. They must be outside. You could look for them, but quite frankly and with no ill intent, you don’t want to. You want to go back to Yoongi and tease him some more.

The man of your hour is back to reading.

“I’ve got water”, you announce yourself, placing the glasses on the bedside table. 

“Mmh.”

You climb onto Yoongi’s lap, staying there for a little until he finally looks at you over the edge of his book. He cocks his right brow up in question.

“Boop”, you say, poking the tip of his nose with your finger.

He blinks rapidly, moving his head back like a cat surprised about being touched. He even ogles your finger, going a little cross eyed for it.

“Has anyone ever told you that you have the most boopable nose ever?” 

“What?” 

“Boop”, you do it again, forcing Yoongi to show off his double chin from how aggressively he tries to ogle your finger.

“What are you doing?” his voice is distorted from the position.

“Has no one booped your nose before?” 

“What? No?” 

“Boop.”

“What is that? Why are you doing this?” he sounds so adorably stressed about the unfamiliar affection.

You have to laugh, cradling his cheeks to pull him in for a kiss on the nose.

“You’re so fucking adorable, gosh you”, you say, biting his nose softly before giving it a second kiss. 

You sit back, sliding your hands to his chest. His pulse is a little raised. Cute.

“It’s affection. It’s nice. When you boop someone it means that they’re being playful with you and that they think a part of you is especially cute”, you explain and poke his nose, “boop.”

“Okay?” he tilts his head to the side, lifting his right hand to poke your nose, “boop?”

“Yes, exactly, but you have to raise your pitch as you do it. Like this. Boop.”

“Boop”, he barely raises his pitch.

You giggle, leaning into his touch. His eyes soften, he lets out a breathy chuckle, poking your nose again.

“Boop”, his voice was perfectly pitched.

“This was perfect”, you exclaim, wiggling on his lap because he makes you so giddy.

“Okay, if you say so”, he says in a chuckle, looking back into his book with a slight shake of his head. He is smiling to himself. 

“Oh Yoongi”, you say, rolling off of him to drop into the pillow. You stretch your arms from yourself, tracing his outer thigh like this.

You have luminescent stars on your ceiling. When you were little, you always counted them until you fell asleep. You find yourself doing it again, except that you can’t seem to get sleepy enough. You are a little droopy, but definitely not sleepy. Yoongi finished a chapter in the time you counted the glowing stars, now finding himself in the middle of the next chapter when you roll to your side beside him. 

You are under the covers, having them pulled up all the way to your ears. 

Yoongi notices your eyes on him and looks down. You are gazing at him as if he was the brightest star in this room, giving him a cute toothless smile the moment your eyes meet.

“Should I turn off the lights?” he asks.

You shake your head.

“I counted the stars a hundred times”, you tell him.

“You did?”

“Yeah”, your smile grows, the sparkle in your eyes does as well.

Yoongi feels his pulse speed up just a little.

“I like looking at you”, you say, showing him your teeth in a grin.

Yoongi is melting. You are so adorable.

He brushes the back of his hand down your cheek. You accept the affection with closed eyes.

“You’re beautiful”, he says softly, looking back into his book.

He tries to pull his hand back, but you stop him with a small “no”.

He studies you curiously. You are turning your back to him, wiggling it out of the blanket.

“Can I have scratches?”

Yoongi begins to scratch your back wordlessly, holding the book with his other hand and using his thumb to flip the page. He’s got the hand size for it. 

You like this so much. Back scratches are the best thing ever. They are so tingly and relaxing. Yoongi never stays at one place for too long, touching whatever inch he could reach and alternating between different patterns. He also switches between using his fingertips and using his nails, adding such amazing sensations to the innocent affection.

You are significantly sleepier when Yoongi’s arm grows tired and he has to take a short break by scratching your scalp instead. You showed him how he could do it best in order not to tug on your hair or damage it and he is doing it exactly like that, using a little bit of pressure because you like it. 

You visibly melt into the touch, inching closer to him until your butt touches his leg. You let out a little sound of comfort, nodding your head.

Yoongi looks at you, lowering the book for a moment. Something inside him shifts into the right place, granting him access to his sweetest realization.

He is actually taken.

He has someone who sees him worthy to date. 

He makes someone feel safe in his presence, safe enough that she loves him.

He can be gentle and soft and tender. He can make someone feel good.

He isn’t alone anymore, holy fuck, he is actually taken.

This is his reality.

Yoongi places the book aside to spoon you instead, putting his arms around you so he can pull you against his chest. He buries his nose in your neck, giving you a soft squeeze. 

You giggle, snuggling into him instantly.

“My princess”, he whispers.

“Your heart is racing so much.”

“I’m happy.”

“I’m happy too, my love.”

“Mhm my princess”, he lets out in a breath, following it up with a kiss to your cheek.

“Tickles”, you snicker.

He chuckles with you, wrestling you gently until you are on your back and he can kiss every inch of your face. You accept it with a racing heart and butterflies in your stomach. The day must have been really, really amazing for Yoongi because you have never witnessed him so affectionate before. Quite frankly, it drives you mad in the fluffiest of ways. 

Yoongi ends his love attack with a big smooch to your lips. 

“Mwuah”, he lets out, scrunching his nose, “that was affection too.”

“I might actually pass out. You’re so cute, oh god.”

Yoongi takes your hands and pins them above your head, holding them softly.

“You’re cuter”, he says and rests his head on your chest. You try to hug him, but his hands keep a tight grip around yours. 

So you stay pinned down and under him, while Yoongi nuzzles your chest, breathing deeply as he does.

“Your heart’s racing.”

“Because you are so affectionate. I’m not used to it.”

He lifts his head, looking at you.

“I can be affectionate.”

“Yeah, you can. Just not so cutely.”

“Is that so bad?”

You shake your head, “it’s the best thing ever. I like it so much.”

“Mhm”, he lowers his eyes, letting them run over you mindlessly. 

Somehow in the nice silence of it all, he managed to throw one leg over yours, now resting it between your thighs. Like this, you are so close, separated by nothing but your thin sleeping clothes. 

Yoongi meets your eyes again.

“You’re so beautiful.”

“You’re beautiful too, my love.”

He cups your cheek, running his thumb along your cheekbone. 

“Can I kiss you?” 

“I like it a lot that you always ask me, you know?”

“Yeah well, it means a great deal to me to know you want it. I’m not Hades”, he jokes, making you laugh.

“Oh god, not that again. Yeah, you definitely aren’t him”, you say and ruffle his hair, “come and kiss me, you softie.”

Yoongi doesn’t need to be told twice, falling into the kiss with closed eyes and a happy purr. 

He wants to savour every second of the kiss, just as you want to do the same. And because you and he want to cherish the kiss with such care, it happens that it lasts oh so very long. The touches are adoring and full of love. Your limbs never truly break apart, tangling closer together as the moments become longer. 

Distance is only truly present when you have to breathe and even during those moments, you stay oh so very close. 

You spend a lot of time on your back, but Yoongi spends just as much time on his back. Truly, the bed might be small, but you roll around in it nonetheless as time passes in the sweetest way. 

The night is a lot darker when Yoongi begins breaking the kiss more and more often. You shift your legs to get more comfortable, brushing against his middle this way. The reason for his sudden need for so many breaks reveals itself to your skin hard and a little wet.

“Ah-hm”, he lets out, following it up with a huff of air and a messy kiss to your neck.

Tingles run through you. You move your leg again. 

Yoongi reaches down and stops it gently.

“Stay still, please.”

“Boongie, did you get hard?”

“I’m sorry, it’s just…so nice.”

“Oh my god, Yoongi”, you gasp, embarrassing him so much that he breaks away and flops to his other side.

“I’m sorry”, he says into his hands, which he has thrown over his face.

With a fond chuckle, you spoon him, trying to drag his hands away from his face.

“Why are you apologising?” 

“I, I’m not sexualising you. I swear, I’m not.”

“Gosh, you silly boy”, you say, rolling him to his back. You straddle him, grinding down on him purposefully.

Yoongi gasps, arching his back and squeezing his legs together. His hands grasp your hips, squeezing desperately.

Perfect. What a perfect little reaction.

You put your weight on his thighs, placing your hands on his chest. His heart is racing. 

“You’re worrying about the silliest things sometimes. I like when you get hard.”

“You do?”

“Mhm, I do”, you dance your fingers to his neck and close them around it. 

Yoongi parts his lips, fluttering his lashes droopily. You aren’t even applying pressure and his head already feels heavier than before. 

“It’s so hot when you get hard for me. Can I give it a feel, my love?” 

He nods his head, humming a shy yes.

You keep your dominant hand on his neck, using the other to feel him up. His sleeping shorts are very thin, giving you the most delicious sensations on your fingertips. You like how hard cock feels under clothing. How it is just so there and hard and how you can feel out the shape of it. You especially love it when Yoongi gets hard because he is a very leaky man. His once dark grey shorts become almost black at the parts where his tip naturally lies. Wet and sticky. That’s how the fabric feels as you trace him. 

“Hm”, the sound leaves him shakily.

You lift your gaze. He has his eyes closed, biting down on his lower lip and furrowing his brows. His hands lie on each side of his head, opening and closing repeatedly. Even now he is looking for someone to hold his hands. If you weren’t suddenly filled with so much gluttony for this man, you would hold his hands until forever ends. 

But instead, you abandon his neck to pull down his shorts and take out his cock. Yoongi rips his eyes open, reaching for you to stop you. He can’t get very far and then you have him gripping the sheets and rolling his eyes back as you sink his cock into your mouth. 

You lick and suckle his tip as if it was a dripping popsicle, slurping and humming the same way. 

Yoongi doesn’t know words right now. He doesn’t know speech. Nor think. All he knows is noise. Make noise. Gasp. Gasp. Gasp and sigh and gasp again. Breathe. Gasp. Whimper. Gasp again. Yoongi doesn’t know words, nor speech and all he can really do is fight for air.

His trembling gasps and little sounds only strengthen your hunger for him. You moan, wiggling your tongue around him in sloppy yet calculated swirls. He tastes different as a human. More…human. As a vampire, he tastes sweet and definitely magically addicting. His essence is meant to charm, to pull the person in and make them dependent on its taste. Right now, all his essence serves is to prove how needy you get him. He doesn’t taste sweet, but he tastes good. So good. Even as a human he tastes so good. 

“Wow Yoongi, you’re so yummy”, you lull, taking him in deeper with a delicious moan. 

Yoongi finally gains back control. He grasps your hair and tugs you away.

“Stop.”

“Don’t like it?” you make sure, fleeing his weak grasp to instead litter his inner thighs with love bites and hickeys. 

It is Not easier to handle for Yoongi. Not in the fucking slightest. He stutters his words as if he never spoke before.

“We, we aren’t at ho-home. You’re so loud, you’ll wake, wake your grandparents.”

You stifle a chuckle.

“Oh Yoongi”, you say, biting his thigh on the most sensitive spot.

Yoongi gasps, arching his back and throwing his hand over his mouth.

“Quiet please”, he tries to hiss but it comes out as a needy beg.

You smile, changing position so you were hovering over him. Your crotch is pressed into his balls, his cock rubs against your stomach. Up until this point in your relationship the thought of being fucked by you had never crossed Yoongi’s mind. He didn’t fantasise about it, didn’t visualise it nor wished for it. Quite frankly, he never even considered it an option. Now all his mind produces are images of having you pump into him. He gulps repeatedly, gawking at you with hazy eyes. What is happening to him? 

You move closer to his face, grinding your crotch against him naturally. His hips chase it, his head is pounding. Holy fuck, you’re messing him up. 

“We’ll be quiet. Don’t worry”, you whisper, intertwining your hands with his’, “at least, I’ll be quiet”, you add with a teasing smirk.

“Princess”, he croaks, squeezing your hands. 

“Yeah?” you breathe, kissing his neck.

Yoongi speaks with his eyes rolled back and his body shivering with each kiss. 

“Promise me to be quiet.”

“I promise.”

“I want you.”

“I want you too”, you say and trace his ear with your tongue.

He trembles, ripping his hands from your grasp to hold your waist instead. Just once then he already changes his mind again and looks for your hands. 

“Mhm, I want you like crazy”, you purr as your tongue continues to trace his ear. He seems to be sensitive there and you like it when he shivers. 

“Princess…” he sighs, giving you all the shivers you so like to witness. 

“Yoongi…” you breathe, kissing a path down his clothed torso until you have his cock under your lips again.

You take him back inside, paying attention to his tip while your hands do the rest. It feels so good and Yoongi is feeling his control slip. Panic. He presses his legs together and reaches down, tugging you away.

“Wait, just wait”, he gasps out.

You sit back on your heels.

“Changed your mind?”

“No, I just.” He sits up, throwing his legs over the edge of the bed. “Sorry, it’s fast. For me. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologise. I’m sorry for rushing you. Do you want to stop?” you say, rubbing his back.

“No, I just need a moment. I, I get so horny so fast. And, and then I can’t control my thoughts anymore and it’s”, he huffs out air, “fucking shit, I’m talking actual ass.”

“No, you’re not. Why do you wanna control your thoughts during these moments?”

“Because…I don’t know. They’re really sexual.”

“And? I’m having sexual thoughts too.”

“You do?” 

Your eyes meet. You nod your head. 

“But they’re really sexual”, he insists.

“Samesies.”

He blinks rapidly, looking away. He rubs his own neck, doing so nervously.

“You know what I think your issue is right now?”

“Tell me.”

“Your sense of smell sucks ass.”

He scoffs, cocking his brow at you in question.

You get out of bed and put yourself in front of him. You take off your pants. Yoongi tries not to look but still ends up looking. Once bared, you step closer. Right between his legs so he has no choice but to look at you. 

“Can I have your hand?”

He offers it to you, switching between looking at your face in question and your middle in desire. 

You flip his hand so his palm is facing up, then guide it between your legs. You hold his pointer finger, moving it through your folds so he can really get a feel of how wet he makes you.

Yoongi purrs, tightening his jaw.

“Can you feel that?”

“Ye-yeah.”

“You might not be able to smell how wet I am, but I am”, you say and grind down on his finger, “you’re not the only one horny. I’m horny too, so much. I’m so wet for you”, you mewl, giving him pretty eyes.

“Holy fuck, princess”, he chokes out, pulling you into a kiss with his left hand on the nape of your neck. He shakes off your hand, taking over between your legs. His middle and ring finger sink into you, his thumb begins to massage your clit. 

Not having expected the sudden burst of pleasure, you whimper into the kiss, grasping his shoulders to stop your wobbling knees from giving up completely. 

Yoongi curls his long fingers, grazing over your spot most sensitive with such precision that you have to break the kiss just to gasp his name. 

“That’s nice, mhm?” confidence is finally in his voice. The raspy deepness of it has returned now that he is in his comfort space; making you feel good. 

“Yeah”, you gasp, following it with a wobble of your knees, “is so nice.”

“Mhm. Put your arms around me.”

You follow, burying your hands deep in his soft hair. It’s so soft and thick. He has so much of it. It’s so fucking amazing to play with it. 

“That’s it. Hold onto me, my beloved”, he whispers, falling back into the kiss with you. You use your tongues instantly, sighing and moaning quietly. All while his hand continuously drags the warmest and deepest pleasure to the surface. Every curl of his fingers, every rub of his thumb is placed with precision. As if he studied your body to the point of perfection. And in a sense he did. He might still hide his own spots from you, feeling too scared to show himself this way, but he knows the paths of your body by heart. While he hid behind always taking the lead, he learned so that he can now make you sigh so very much with just three of his fingers.

But you are stubborn. He likes this about you even if sometimes your stubbornness leads him into rather overwhelming situations. Like your right hand suddenly dropping to his cock to begin jerking him off. He breaks the kiss, moaning loudly just to follow it up with a gasp.

“Quiet”, he hisses.

“I’m not the one being loud”, you throw back sassily, twisting your hand around his heated tip. It looks so flushed between your fingers, like the prettiest shade if pink.

“I’m gonna fucking ruin you”, he presses out through gritted teeth, huffing out air in time with his fingers fucking into you. Again and again. In a fast, sloppy rhythm. 

But because you are you – the most perfect, stubborn, giving goddess – you don’t crumble under his touches. You match his rhythm, pumping his cock with such sloppy goodness that Yoongi feels dizzy. He moans into your mouth, tilting his head back. He licks your lips, wobbling so much that he accidentally licks the tip of your nose as well. It makes you giggle, which in return messes him up more. 

“I don’t think that you’re gonna ruin me” you whisper, watching the effect of your hand job wash over his face. His cheeks are flushed, his eyes rolled back and halfway open. 

“Brat”, he croaks, “ahmmmm”, he moans, squeezing his lips together just so he can’t be loud. 

“But I’m your brat.”

“Mhm, my brat. My pretty, stubborn brat”, he whispers and kisses you deeply. This is the kind of kiss which would already make you weak in normal situations but with his hand between your legs, it is quite frankly impossible to receive. 

It suddenly gets so, so hard to keep the rhythm going. Yoongi, who notices the faltering touches around his cock, smirks into the kiss, picking up skill to show you how good he can give it to you. He always gets what he wants. He is going to ruin you. Your sweet, little attempts to break him first might distract him for a while, but at the end of it, he is going to get what he wants. You’re his perfect soulmate, you are going to crumble for him even if you try so very hard it make him crumble first. 

You squeak a little, breaking the kiss. You twist his hair and tug, forcing his head to tilt back. Your eyes are half lidded and droopy as you look at him, your lips are parted. 

“You have to…do better.”

He smirks, “don’t test me.”

“Try me.”

With a soft push he puts distance between you and him. His fingers are gone for now, grabbing your wiggling hips. He slides off of bed, falling to his knees and dropping his head on the edge of the mattress. Like this, he pulls you onto his face, licking your pussy with an eager tongue the second it comes into contact with you.

“Yoongi”, you mewl, having to twist the blanket for support. 

“Lean on me, princess. I’ve got you”, he purrs between licks, caressing your shaking legs with eager hands.  

“This is unfair, oh god Yoongi”, you mewl, dropping your head. You are really trying to be quiet. Yoongi not so much now that he is pussy drunk and lost. He is so noisy in his licks and slurps, adding throaty growls and delicious purrs to it. How obviously in his element he finally is. How little he cares for his environment when his face is buried between your legs. The switch will never fail to make you shake. To have him go from shy and reserved to a complete noisy munch. Oh, you can barely handle it. 

But even Yoongi has to stop. Even Yoongi has to come to the painful realisation that humans have to breathe, that he can’t spend minutes without air. He growls as he does it, looking up at you with blown out pupils and a messy lower face. 

“You’re my fucking everything, princess”, he purrs, “fuck, why is air so sparse?” 

“Cause you’re human.”

“Mhm, if only there was a spell for unlimited air. I’d live right here”, he lulls, dragging you back onto his tongue to devour every inch of your addictive pussy. Even as a human he loves the taste. Even as a human he feels charmed by it. Even as a fucking human, he can’t get enough. He feels mad in desire. His thoughts are scrambling again, spitting the most vile things imaginable, but he feels no shame anymore. Just maddening desire to make all these thoughts a reality. He wants you shaking, trembling and whimpering his name. He wants you wetting his face and gripping his hair. This is what he is good at. Even as a human. The proof is right there. He exists to give and give and give. 

You can’t even be mad at him for putting his own needs on the backbench because he is currently making you come insanely close to an orgasm and you are panicking.

You begin fleeing, gripping his hair, stumbling while he continuously drags you back onto his tongue. 

“It’s too much, please”, you beg. 

Yoongi slows down, using the moment to catch his breath. His tender hands rub the back of your thighs, soothing the shakes in them.

“Hurts?”

“No, too close.”

“Mhhhm”, he purrs and stops caring about your little whines. He drags you back onto his tongue, sucking and licking you on the spots most sensitive. Being close isn’t a reason to stop. He won’t entertain your begs when this is the reason. You talk big about making him crumble first, but he is hellbent on proving you wrong. He sucks and slurps, moving your hips on his tongue so you can feel everything. He basks in every throb, in every pulse and new droplet of pleasure you feed him. Fuck, he loves eating your pussy. 

You twist his hair, wobbling so incredibly much, and throw your hand over your mouth, scrunching your face as he makes you feel so much pleasure that it is hard to be quiet. He is definitely not easier to handle as a human. His fangs and long tongue might be missing, but his talent remains. This is it. If you hadn’t known it yet, you definitely know now. Yoongi is actually good. He isn’t just good because of vampiric magic, he is good because he has skill and an actual, insane obsession with eating pussy. 

“Yoongi please”, you beg because begging is all you can do.

He sucks on your clit with vigour, reminding you how sensitive you are there. The wet, fast licks which follow afterwards do the rest.  

You have to climax on his face if you wanted to or not. You really want to. He feels so good. 

“Yoon- you…unfair”, you choke out and feel the knot break. Hard and very hot. And because it’s Yoongi, he presses you closer as you throb, making it fucking impossible to function. If it wasn’t for your hand, you would squeal his name as loudly as you can.

You begin fleeing. Yoongi doesn’t let you. He uses magic on you to lift you and flip you so you were kneeling by the bed with your tummy against it. He cages you in behind him, kissing your neck with wet, puffy lips. His cock is between your legs, fucking back and forth to grind against your pussy. Electric. He makes you feel electric. And so utterly his’.

“Did you just use magic to, to move me?”

“Hm, maybe”, he purrs, placing his left hand over yours while he lets his right slip between your legs again.

You writhe and squirm, pressing into him just as much as you flee him. You whimper softly, reaching behind yourself to twist his hair. He purrs, cuddling closer as his hips grind into you.

“Mhm, now you’re so wet”, he whispers, playing with your clit even if you’re still sensitive, “and so fucking puffy. Mhm princess, love when you’re like this.”

“Yoongi please”, you get out, dropping your head against him. 

“Sensitive?” 

“Yeah”, you mewl.

“You’re such a good girl”, he praises, rewarding you with his cock against your clit.

You gasp, trying to form words.

“What’s the matter, mhm?”

“I love you.”

He falters, stilling for just a moment before he hugs you tightly and kisses your cheek.

“I love you too, my beloved”, he says against it, following it up with a rub to your clit with his tip, “boop.”

“Huh?” you laugh instantly, craning your neck to look at him.

“Did I do it right, mhm?” he chuckles.

“I guess? Oh god, Boongie you’re so cute.” 

“Mhm, you’re cuter”, he says and slips his hand to your hips. “Stay quiet, I know you can do it”, he says and breaks away to lie down on the floor with his head between your legs. With one magical push he has you smothering him with your wet pussy. 

“Yoo-”, you silence yourself by dropping your head on the bed and biting the blanket. You huff out air repeatedly, writhing in his strong hold as he drags burning pleasure to the surface. 

You learned your lesson. Don’t challenge Yoongi about who gets the other to break first because you will lose. Even as humans you can’t win against him. His touches are too powerful, his devotion just too strong. With drool soaking the blanket and your legs shaking, you take the sloppy head he gives you against your childhood bed while the blinds are still open. 

If it wasn’t already fucking hot, the way he gives it to you does the rest. It isn’t long and he has you throbbing on his tongue a second time. The blanket works overtime to silence your squeals, his magic keeps you from completely sitting down on him. 

He also uses his magic to move you after you flee in overstimulation. He is on his feet within seconds, carrying you in his arms with ease. You know that he is using magic because it tingles a little. Or maybe you are tingling because he literally made you see stars. 

Whatever the case, you are utterly and completely his’ right now. He gazes up at you with his face wet and his lips puffy and deep pink. 

“Still wanna talk big?” he asks.

“I can’t stand you”, you choke out, dropping your head on his shoulder.

He laughs, “it’s what you get for challenging me, you little brat.” 

You tremble, exhaling shakily. 

“Aww poor baby, did I break you?” he coos as he climbs onto bed with you. You sit on his lap like this, hugging him oh so tightly.

“Shut up.”

He laughs deeply, patting your butt. He kisses your shoulder, speaking softly.

“You did really well.”

“I still can’t stand you.”

“Princess, no. Don’t talk like this”, he whines in a chuckle. 

You lift your head, meeting his smiling face. You smile at him instantly, cupping his glowing cheeks. 

“I lied. I can’t get enough of you”, you say.

“That’s so much better.”

You giggle, pushing him down to kiss him. Yoongi falls with a throaty moan, letting you straddle him gladly. This is a position he will always feel comfortable in. You and he are equal here and he loves it when you show him that you can push him around easily. 

You moan and sigh into the kiss, feasting on the taste of you as your hands are restless on his torso. His own hands are restless as well and somehow in the fumbling of it all, he manages to take off your shirt. It drops to the floor, Yoongi pulls you to his face instantly so he can kiss and suck your breasts. Like this, your pussy is grinding against his clothed stomach, messing up his shirt. 

“I want your skin, please Yoongi.”

“Rip my shirt”, he lulls, face first in your tits. 

“How??”

“Challenge the feelings and use their strength. Trust me.”

You do as you are told, ripping the shirt with ease. 

“Yoongi”, you moan, throwing the shirt to the side. It repairs itself mid air because Yoongi does it, dropping to the floor in one piece. 

“Good job, my good girl. Fuck, my good girl”, he praises, burying himself back in your tits to devote his everything to them.

You close your eyes in a roll, dropping your forehead on the edge of the backrest. You have what you craved. You are grinding against his naked stomach, feeling everything. His soft skin, his happy trail and his warmth. If he hasn’t already ruined you before, he definitely would have now. But he already made you crumble, resulting in the grinds to make you twitch each time your clit comes into contact with him.

“You feel so good…”

“Mhm, you feel so good too, princess.”

“I wanna fuck you.”

He smiles, “wanna fuck you too.”

You shimmy down until you have his cock under you. You wrap your fingers around his base, guiding it through your folds. 

Yoongi purrs, gazing at you with droopy eyes and a giddy smile. His big hands caress your thighs, his chest heaves up and down in excited breaths.

“My beautiful”, he sighs, lowering his lids just a little more, “can’t wait to be inside.”

“I’ll do it now, I can’t wait. Ready?” 

He smiles up at you, nodding his head with a hum.

“I love you.”

“I love you too”, he whispers, arching his back when you sink him into you. 

He bottoms out within seconds, filling you up so good that you have to gasp for air.

“Does it hurt?” he asks worriedly.

But you shake your head, “it feels so good. So warm and, and...” You shiver, smiling at him. “And so right.”

“It does princess, it does”, he agrees with adoration in his honey voice.

You start moving, struggling within seconds because your legs are wobbly. So to help you, Yoongi props his arms up and holds both your hands, giving you something to lean on this way. Moving becomes so much easier, the connection even deeper. 

“You’re so fucking beautiful, fucking beautiful, fuck”, Yoongi gets out, gazing at you with droopy eyes. His toes are curling. The pleasure you give him is intense and he wants to close his eyes, but missing out on your beautiful face would hurt too much. So he powers through it. He gazes even if his eyes burn in exhaustion, he smiles even if his lips want to form moans instead. 

To be looked at with such love makes you feel so good. So goddamn good that you don’t have to bounce on him to feel eternal. He is glad that you aren’t because it would set him off with the first movement. He likes the slowness of it, how gentle you move and how it makes both of you float in a warm, fluffy cloud of good pleasure.

“You’re beautiful, Yoongi”, you get out, squeezing his hands.

“You are”, he sighs and closes his eyes.

To watch him let go and truly enjoy it is too much. “Oh god”, you tremble, having to gasp. You stop instantly, otherwise you would have lost yourself. 

Yoongi opens his eyes and furrows his brows when he sees the sudden panic on your features.

“What’s the matter?” 

“My control, I-” 

“You’re safe, let it happen.” 

“But what will happen to you?” 

“Let it happen”, he encourages you and then his dark brown eyes glow purple. 

Your control crumbles instantly. Your eyes match his glow.

“Yoongi, your eyes.”

“Yours are the same.”

“What?” 

Thankfully you have a mirror on the wall just high enough that you can see yourself in it, meeting your purple eyes. You exhale shakily, meeting Yoongi’s equally as purple eyes in the reflection.

He smiles, squeezes your hands when you laugh in both disbelief and the overwhelming happiness such a connection brings you.

“Yoongi, oh my god, we’re the same.”

“I know.”

You turn to him, cupping his cheeks.

“My love, oh my love.”

He leans into your touch, sitting up moments later because he wanted to be closer to you. Like this, his stomach gives such nice pressure to your clit. He lifts you for just a second with the help of his magic and crosses his legs, making it more comfortable for both of you to be so close. Like this, you sit on his lap with your own legs around his hips.

“My love”, he whispers, moving your hips slowly so the connection can deepen even more. 

The glow becomes brighter and brighter. It is just you and him. You have never been closer than right now. If there was still doubt about your connection somewhere in this universe, this right here is the final proof. You share the same breath, the same warmth and the same colour of eyes as magic courses through both your bodies. You and he are both witches whose magic is based on their emotions and in this moment, your emotions are the same, your magic is one.

“I’d wait a million lifetimes for you, ___”, he whispers, cupping your cheek.

“I’d move the fucking stars for you, Min Yoongi.”

He smiles. Perhaps your eyes deceive you, but there are markings of purple suddenly glowing under his skin. Like a tattoo invisible made visible now that you let his own control slip oh so safely. And as your hips dance with his’ and your hands stay connected with him, the air around you begins dancing in millions of small stars. 

“What’s happening?”

“We’re moving the stars, my love”, he whispers.

The stars form their own galaxies, starting from the stars on your ceiling and spreading around you in clouds. 

“Yoongi.”

“Don’t cry, my love.”

“We can do that?”

He nods his head with the love growing in his eyes.

“Yoongi”, you whimper, “I love you so much.”

“I love you just as much” he sighs, rubbing your hip in soothing as he wipes the tears from your cheeks. You haven’t noticed it yet, but the same markings glow under your skin. He loves you so very much that he paints more stars onto your shared galaxy until the very room is filled with them. 

“Keep moving like this. It feels so good”, he tells you.

“Oh god.” You shiver. “Yeah, it does. Wow, it does.”

You chase the warmth between your legs. For but a moment, you had forgotten what you and he were doing. The magical moment was just too wonderfully distracting. Now that he made you aware of it again, you can’t help but feel just a little overwhelmed from it. This is sex, but this is so much more. You are chasing pleasure, but you are also chasing so much more. This is true love and you are chasing the addictive feeling of making magic with the One.

The stars are endless in the room, purple nebulas have started to form around you and him. The glow of them paints his skin a slight purple, making you glow just as much. 

So this is what it feels like. This is what giving up control feels like to someone like you. It is warm. It is so intensely warm that you have to seek his comfort by hiding away in his neck.

“I love you so much, oh god”, you choke out.

“I love you too, my beloved witch”, he whispers. His voice is trembling, his breath is just a little uneven. 

Your hearts are racing, the parts where you touch are heated and damp. You deepen the contact by burying your hands in his hair. It feels even softer now that magic sets him aflame. He shudders and exhales shakily, meeting your movements with desperate rolls of his hips.

“Yoon- ah”, you squeak, curling your toes in electric pleasure. 

Yoongi answers you in a small whimper and his fingers dimpling your softest spots. His own face is nuzzled into your shoulder, his veins can barely handle the endless pleasure your warmth gives him. He feels home right now. Home and finally in harmony with himself. There are no dark voices in the back of his mind, no curse urging him on to rip you apart, no desires of violence getting stronger and stronger the deeper he falls into you. There is no darkness. Just galaxies of purple and melodies of endless love. He feels out of control, but it creates good in the world. 

Yoongi has never felt more in harmony with himself than he does right now. And he wants to share this harmony with you. He wants you to bask in the warmth and silence of it and give you the deep, magical pleasure he feels as it happens. 

He presses you a little closer to his stomach, basking in the moan you muffle in his neck. He rolls his hips into you, eliciting yet another moan from you. Again. He needs to make you feel as good as you make him feel.

And it all gets a little too much for you. The connection, his touch, the pressure on your clit and the warmth of having him inside. At all gets a little too much for you. 

“Yoongi, I’m cumming.”

“Let go, my love. Let go.”

Your high came sooner than he thought it would, but he doesn’t mind. He holds you through it, looking at the room with awe in his purple eyes. You make the stars dance in swirls and waves. 

“You’re beautiful, my little witch. Your magic’s so beautiful”, he sighs, squeezing you closer to him to really give you the best you ever had, “you’re so beautiful, my love. You’re…so…beautiful…”

You feel so free. This is the first thought you have. You feel so fucking free. He makes you feel so good and you don’t have to hold back on anything. The release of pressure, energy and magic brings you to fucking tears.

“I love you so much, Min Yoongi.”

“I love you…too- ah, I’m gonna cum”, he gets out, tugging at your hips, “sit up, I’m close.”

“Don’t hold back, please Yoongi let it happen”, you beg him, speeding up your hips.

“But- ah a-ha, but-”

You lift your head, spilling tears when you realise that the magic has also painted his hair purple. You know that you match his colour, that once again your connection became even more visible. And you never felt more certain about having him paint your walls than you do right now. Let him seal the connection. Let him make you his’.

“Let go, my beloved witch”, you whisper, cradling his cheeks as you dance your hips on him. It is a little difficult because he really ruined you with your high, but you want to do it for him. You want him to experience the same intense high as you did. He is your soulmate and he deserves to feel amazing. Yoongi is breathing heavier and heavier, letting out more and more little whimpers as his eyes just very slowly go out of focus.

“Let go please. I want to be yours”, you beg him, clenching around him.

“___”, Yoongi whimpers and breaks under you, rolling his eyes back and closing them because it all gets too much for him. The stars around you tremble and dance, his fingers dig deep into your softness as his seed covers your every inch, “I love you.”

“I love you too, Yoongi. I love you so much”, you choke out, helping him ride out his high and feeling so good that you make the stars dance just as much.

He falls down after his high, dragging you with him so he could hug you just as much as he tries to kiss you. You try to kiss him back, but both of you are so out of breath and you keep giggling and smiling that it’s difficult to find a rhythm. It makes the kiss so much more special because it is honest and it is real and in this moment, you and he carry your fucking feelings in every giggle and every shaky breath. You just did it. You sealed your connection. You let it happen and as you did, you created galaxies out of nothing. You lost control together until purple was all around you and flowing through your veins. You became one soul. 

The stars become less and less as you kiss until only the luminescent stickers on your ceiling glow in an ever fading purple. 

“Oh god Yoongi, we actually made galaxies.”

“I know. Holy fuck, I lost control and it didn’t make me violent.”

“I’m so happy for you, oh Yoongi”, you choke out, lifting your head so you could meet his eyes. His hair is black again, the glow under his skin stopped but his eyes were still a slight purple. Darker than before, but the remnants of strong magic still flicker in them. 

You touch his cheek, his neck, his hair.

“Your skin was glowing and, and your hair. Your hair was purple.”

“I know. You were the same.”

“We were the same. Yoongi, you and I are so right.”

“We are. Ah! Mhhhm”, he suddenly tenses up, scrunching his nose, “okay, don’t do that. My cock’s gonna fall off.”

“Huh? I just moved a little. You normally like that.”

“Yeah, not here. Uff, I’m so sensitive please get off.”

He makes you laugh, which makes slipping off a very whiny procedure for him.

“So I take it that your human cock can only go once?”

“Definitely yep, wow that hurt”, he says and rubs his cock soothingly, “my poor little wiener.”

“Yoongi”, you snort, “why would you call it like that, you silly bean?”

He laughs with boyish eyes, kicking his feet as he does it. He really makes you so happy that you have to throw yourself on your back and laugh just as much. 

You each drink some water after your laugh. You also each go to the toilet and clean up as best possible. You don’t bother to put on clothes, waiting for Yoongi to come back. He does so quickly, locking the door behind him and running to the bed.

“Kook and Tae are downstairs. I ran so fast. I was scared they’ll see my naked ass.”

“But you did it?”

“I hope”, he says and slips under the blanket. He wiggles around a bit, making cute sounds.

“Comfy?” you snicker fondly.

“Yeah, so warm”, he purrs and nuzzles into the pillow with a scrunch of his nose. 

You and he gaze at each other like this. He cups your cheek, tracing your skin slowly.

“My little witch”, he whispers.

You lean into his touch, closing your eyes halfway.

“I can’t believe you let me cum inside. What if something happens?”

“If it’s anyone, it’s you Min Yoongi.”

Seriousness washes over his features as the meaning of your words sink into him. He tries to speak calmly but his voice trembles.

“I don’t know what you see in me, but whatever it is, I’m so fucking glad that you do.”

“I see everything in you. My past, my present and my future.”

Yoongi pulls you close, hugging you against him.

“My beloved. Holy fuck, I love you”, he presses out, cradling you with such desperate love it feels as if he wanted to melt with you.

“I love you too, my beloved.”

[luveline]

hi jadey!! can i request something with steve? maybe where reader used to be in a relationship where the other person made her to do all the work ( put in the groceries, clean the house, etc.) and one day steve is taking care of some of the chores and reader freaks out cause she’s the one supposed to be doing it?? it’s just an idea, no pressure lovely! hope you’re having a good day 🫶🫶

ty gorgeous! fem!reader

Steve hums when he's busy. No pretentiousness, no shame, he sings lyrics, guitar, and occasionally drums, too. You can hear him in the kitchen singing that Van Halen song he loves, his voice twisted tight as he tries to hit a high note. 

"Are you making a sandwich?" you ask hopefully, hanging your coat on the hook as you trudge in from the front door. 

You're in the kitchen before Steve's collected the wits to answer you. Your jaw falls open. 

"Hey, babe," he says. It's difficult to tell if the pet name is joking or serious, Steve in his pyjamas with his sleeves rolled up, his lips quirked into a funny smile as though he's pleased to see you but confused at the same time. "No? Did you want one?" 

"What are you doing?"

Steve holds his games up in surrender, a cloth held in the left. "I'm wiping down the counters?" 

"Why?" 

"I do this every Friday before you get home." 

"What?" 

Steve takes the cloth to the sink to rinse it out. Bleach bubbles squeeze from the fabric. "Am I doing it wrong? This is how I always do it. Wipe the counters, vacuum, mop. Why are you back so early?" 

"Steve, you don't have to clean. I… that's my job." 

"Then what's mine?" he asks, turning off the faucet and dropping the wet cloth at the bottom of the basin. He wipes his hands dry with a hand towel, ushering your forward with a gesture of his index finger. "Come here…" He wraps his arms around you. "All you do lately is work." Steve kisses your cheek three quick times. "Miss you."

You blink a little, overwhelmed, still worried. "Do I not do it right? It's okay if I don't, I can–" 

"Do what? The counters? No. I just figured it's my turn before the weekend starts and you go on your cleaning frenzy. Which isn't your job, by the way. I don't know why you think that." 

He's light-hearted, but your silence spurns him into a more serious tone. Taking your face into one still-damp palm, he narrows his eyes until they're more brown than anything else and says, "Do you really think it's your job?"

"I'm the girl." 

"And I'm so stoked about that, but…" He smiles, pulling your cheek with his thumb to encourage the same. "That's not right. Do you even like cleaning?" 

"I don't have to like it, it's housework." 

Steve can't seem to decide whether this is serious or not. He goes from smiling to frowning to impassive, his fingers rubbing a slovenly path down your cheek. Strands of hair like lace drift into his eyes as he ducks his head, his gaze on your chest. "It's housework for the house we both live in. I know you've been doing more of it since we moved in, and I'm really sorry. I'm lazier than you. I should've asked you about it, but now I've let you do more and you think you need to do all of it. I'm a dick." 

"No, you're not." 

"I'm a total dick. You think you have to clean up after me?" He brings you in for another hug. "Holy fuck, baby. I'm a grown up." 

You bristle at first, but relax the longer he holds you, his words sinking in steady. He's not criticising you; Steve is apologising and self-deprecating. You slide your arms behind his back and breathe in his smell, all things boy but with the sharp smell of bleach lingering. 

"I did it myself. You know, before. So that's why it feels like it's mine to do. Not your fault," you say into his chest. 

Steve pulls away. "Thanks, but I'm a huge dick no matter what." 

He marches you backwards and forces you back into one of the chairs at the dining table. You grab at his arms as he attempts to walk away, lifting your chin to kiss him. It distracts him for a while, the soft, slow press of his lips against yours, your hand in his hair scratching tenderly, but he can't be kept forever. Steve ends your kissing with a peck and beelines for the fridge.

"What are you doing?" you ask. 

"Making you a sandwich. Dinner and a show tonight, did I forget to tell you? You can eat the best BLT in the western hemisphere and I'm gonna vacuum the crumbs from under the toaster. Perfect Friday night, right?"