#LOVE his hair. and his eyebrows. so good so so good

[laurellala]

Fun fact! This was the real tipping point that made Edgeworth run away after AA1, they just couldn't show it on screen because they didn't have the rights to Chappell Roan's music <3

(A spiritual successor to my "Hot to Go" joke from this post. Image description under the cut below)

[Image ID: a four page black and white comic of characters from ace attorney.

The Judge stands solemnly at his podium holding a gavel "Mr. Miles Edgeworth, you are on trial for the murder of blah blah blah..."

A cheerful Maya Fey leans over to Miles Edgeworth, who is staring straight ahead and looking very concerned

Maya: "Psst! Mr. Edgeworth! If you win your trial, can I show you Chappell Roan?

Miles: "What the hell, sure." Internally he thinks "Oh God I am going to jail"

A box saying "later" in the top corner of the next panel marks the passage of time.

The Judge smiles as he says "I declare you... Not Guilty!"

We see a full body shot of Maya dancing excitedly while Miles looks on, emotionless

Maya: YIPPEE omg you're going to LOVE this

Miles internally thinks "oh no, the consequences of my actions.

We see Miles standing in between Phoenix Wright and Maya looking apprehensive. Maya beams in excitement, while Nick puts a reassuring hand on Miles' shoulder

Miles: Alright, so what is this exactly?

Nick: She's a pop musician Maya really likes

Maya: You promised you'd let me show you, and it's legally binding because you said it in a court room!

Miles: That is not how the law works Ms. Fey

Maya: Shh just listen!

We see a panel of Miles' pensive face concentrating as he listens to "Hot to Go". He thinks to himself "hm".

Another panel zoomed in more. His pensive expression has grown more tense/confused as he listens to "Red Wine Supernova". he again thinks to himself "Hm" in a larger thought bubble.

We zoom out again to see Nick, Miles, and Maya standing together again. Miles stares forward blankly, eyebrows raised. Maya excitedly leans in.

Maya: Ok, that's her whole discography. So! What did you think?

Nick looks at him, waiting for his response

We get a panel of Miles, looking bewildered. He starts to speak "I..."

We cut again to see the three of them standing together.

Miles: I... don't think I like women?

Miles looks shocked and confused. Nick is bent over laughing, using a hand on Miles's shoulder to support himself. Maya looks outraged and appalled!

Maya: MR. EDGEWORTH! Just because you don' like her musi it doesn't give you an excuse to be sexist!

We see a panel of Miles looking stressed and confused. He leans his head on one of his hands, which messes up his hair, showing how he isn't his normal put together self.

Miles: I should rephrase that. What I mean is, Ms. Roan is clearly VERY assured in her feelings towards women. I was... unaware that anyone felt that strongly. I thought we all viewed these things with a vague sense of distaste and unease but collectively ignored it. Like how we do with climate change.

We zoom out again to see the three of them. Miles stands in the middle looking deeply uncomfortable and lost in thought, vibrating with unease. Nick and Maya exchange deeply concerned glances across from him.

With lingering unease, Miles begins to walk away.

Miles: Well, I should be going then. Goodnight.

Nick hesitantly raises a finger to point out an inaccuracy in that statement

Nick: It's four in the afternoon-

he gets interrupted by Miles who repeats firmly: I said Goodnight

Nick looks in the direction Miles walked off in.

Nick: ...He'll be ok, right?

Maya reassures him: Of cours Nick! I mean, what's the worst that can happen?

Jump cut to a closeup of Nick's hand holding Miles' letter which reads Miles Edgeworth chooses death in all caps. Then, below in smaller font, it says Also femininomenon was really good, thanks.

We see a panel of Nick glaring wordlessly at Maya as he holds the letter in his hand. Maya leans against the wall and looks away, whistling, trying to look innocent to avoid blame.

As a bonus, we also have a page that takes place a year later. Miles and Nick stand talking. Miles looks calmer now, and Nick smiles encouragingly.

Miles: In my time in Europe, I've been examining myself and my approach to law. Ultimately, the most important focus must be justice. We owe it to ourselves and to the people we serve

Nick: Wow, that's really inspiring Edgeworth. And, uh, hows the... the other thing going?

We get a zoomed in panel of Miles glaring menacingly at a suddenly nervous Nick

Jumping out again, Miles turns his back to Nick as he continues to talk

Miles: So as I was saying, justice is truly so important...

Nick nervously rubs the back of his neck wearing an awkward expression as he sweats nervously. He thinks to himself internally "Ooookay then, clearly still working through some things there"

/.End ID]

[ofbatsandballads]

have this thing I wrote in a flash of pure, unadulterated love for Jason that I felt while doing my hair routine after my shower. never needed a fictional guy more in all my life and honestly this may be my personal favorite thing I’ve ever written.

Thinking about domesticity with Jason Todd. Building a home with him, a life. How ever so gradually mine and yours becomes ours.

You’re brushing your teeth one morning and decide to try out his toothpaste, the one he always buys from the bodega down the block owned by the little abuelita that loves him to death. It’s fresh and it’s minty and you swear it leaves your teeth whiter than the brand name stuff you buy, so you let your tube get used up and never buy toothpaste again. Jason, without question, simply starts buying it twice as often as usual.

You’re fresh from the shower together after a night off for both of you. You’re warm and you’re happy and you’re both so in love it almost hurts. You watch enraptured as he towel dries his hair, roughly scrunching the water from his inky curls. You don’t like how he lacks gentleness with himself, so you take the towel from him and gesture for him to lean down. Ever obedient to you, Jason complies and smiles softly as you dry his hair for him. You think suddenly that while his curls are always soft to the touch, they could do with being a bit more defined. They tend to get really frizzy and poofy by the end of the day. So you grab your curl cream and gel and just absentmindedly do your own routine on him. He raises his eyebrow in question only to quickly relent when he realizes it means you’re playing with his hair for longer. Your hunch is right; once his hair dries, his curls are so pretty you think you could get lost in the waves of them. Jason’s just happy cause now his hair smells like you.

The only clothes Jason has that are his now is his Red Hood gear. The rest of his closet has quickly become co-owned by you. His brain never fails to short circuit when you walk out in his hoodies, or his sweatpants, or his t-shirts, or his boxers. There’s not one piece of his civilian clothing that hasn’t been on both of your bodies at this point. Sometimes seeing you in his clothes has Jason blushing and his heart pounding with how much he loves you, how grateful he is to have this life with you. Other times seeing you in his clothes has him calculating the fastest way he can get them all off of you. You’re just disappointed that it can’t go both ways. But, alas, the struggles of having a massive boyfriend are that he’ll never be able to fit in your clothes. Whatever; it still does something for you when he finally wears the old Gotham Knights shirt that you’d stolen for months.

It’s also kind of funny sometimes. You two own a set of old, dark gray towels affectionately labeled “The Blood Towels”. The Blood Towels are only brought out after a really rough patrol or post-showering when you’re on your period. They came about after you’d nearly slipped while soaking wet from how quickly you’d tried to dry off to avoid bleeding on his good, fluffy towels. Jason just looked at you like you were a little ditzy, a flat “Do ya know how many times I’ve bled on these towels?” coming from his mouth. “I don’t care! I still don’t wanna ruin them!” you’d insisted. And thus, The Blood Towels were born.

Your bookshelf is never going to stop growing. You’ve actually had to go to IKEA more than once to get a larger one with how often you and Jay visit the old bookstore two blocks away from your apartment. Neither of you can resist a pretty cover, or a new annotated edition, or, heaven forbid, those rare, expensive first edition copies. At this point you’re not really sure which of the five copies of Pride and Prejudice first belonged to who, but really what does it matter when you’re both reading them anyways? And it’s always funny when you have to drag home a bigger bookshelf. You can never hold your laughter when Jason inevitably shouts “What the fuck! This wouldn’t be so goddamn hard if they actually gave you coherent instructions!” It’s also always nice to drag the old bookshelves to the apartment of the single mom downstairs whose kid loves reading. You both know she can barely afford the second hand books she gets him, so the shelves are happily given. You’re actually thinking of asking Jay if he’s willing to part with one of your first edition copies of Frankenstein for Christmas; the kid would freak.

All of this comes to a head with a cat. A big, fat, black cat that crawls up on your fire escape one night. You’d both been a little distracted–okay, a lot distracted by the feeling of being lost in each other's touch. You’d been making out for over an hour, just relishing in the intimacy of being together. It was definitely going to go somewhere until you heard the caterwauling of an animal outside your window. “The fuck is that?” Jason had asked as he pulled away from kissing bruises into your neck. “Sounds like a cat.” You’d begged, actually begged, Jason to let him stay. The next morning you came home with a grocery bag full of cat toys and bowls while Jason hauled a value-sized 40 pound bag of cat food on his shoulder. Atticus sits with you both while you watch TV now. Atticus still sometimes ruins the mood when he sees Jason sink his teeth into you and immediately swats his dad on the cheek. But Atticus is also undeniably your boy. And whatever, maybe you do start thinking about what Jason would look like with an actual baby in his arms when he’s cradling Atty as he shuffles around your home. But there’s time for that yet. You both know that. You know that beyond anything else, you’ll always have this life, this home together. It’s the best gift either of you have ever been given.

[scudevils]

it’s beginning to look a lot like christmas — QH43

pairing: quinn hughes x fem!reader

warnings: fluff, bit of a rushed ending sorry, not proofread!!

inspired by: “it’s beginning to look a lot like christmas” by bing crosby [1.2k]

a/n: a quick one for boyfriend quinn appreciation

it was a rare quiet day in the middle of the season, quinn who was usually surrounded by the hustle and bustle of hockey life, found himself sitting beside you in the warm glow of holiday lights, the smells of cinnamon, nutmeg, and ginger filled the air, mixing with the sound of soft christmas music playing in the background.

you'd been to the store earlier in the week, a gingerbread house kit lay spread out on the kitchen table to welcome him home from the road game in carolina, your niece's expectant eyes looking up at the pair of you as the pieces game in their own neatly placed bags, you and quinn shared a look of hesitation.

"this is way more complicated than it looks," was the first thing he said, peering at the instruction booklet with a playful grimace, eyeing up your niece's miniature house which was going a lot better than yours. his hair, slightly messier than usual, hinted at the fact that he had been running his hands through it in frustration, dark strands falling in front of his face. you laughed softly, enjoying the moment of calm in an otherwise busy season, and even off the ice he was just as competitive. (even if it was against a 9 year old)

"i thought you were good at building things," you teased, taking a sip from one of the hot chocolate you'd made for the three of you, choosing to take a step back from the building business as it was getting a big heated. "you're an athlete, you know... strategy, precision, focus?" you gave him a wink.

quinn grinned, his eyes lighting up in that characteristic way that always made you smile. "i play hockey, not architect. but i'm willing to try. you're the one with all the crafting experience, right?"

you raised an eyebrow at his suggestion, the most building you'd ever done in your life was a science fair project when you were 11, and even then your dad had built the majority of it. "crafting experience? skylar's got more crafting experience with me, she still does homework."

"alright, alright, I'll admit it," he said, grinning, the little girl beside them too busy already decorating her gingerbread house to care about what you had been saying. "maybe I need your help after all."

he reached for the frosting bag with a dramatic sigh, and you couldn't help but laugh as skylar's first order of business was to take the icing out of his hands. "read the instructions first," she said, flipping the booklet open and starting to explain the steps.

quinn looked at the pieces in front of him, tempted to give up and just eat the gingerbread, but that wasn't his nature, squinting like he was trying to figure out the lines on a hockey rink for the first time again. "wait, do you put the roof on first, or the walls?"

"okay, we need to build the base first. that's the most important part," you said, guiding him through it, looking to skylar for approval and she nodded, adding sweets onto her own now. "if the walls don't stay up, it's game over."

with a bit of teamwork, and an insane amount of luck that neither of you bumped into the table, you two managed to assemble the walls, and quinn was about to put the roof on before an idea struck him.

"so, are we going for traditional?" he asked, his tone suggesting he had something else in mind as he eyed the candy decorations, almost as if he was a real interior designer planning the layout for their house. "or... are we going for something a little more creative? like... a hockey rink gingerbread house?"

you raised an eyebrow at the suggestion, of course he would say that, you loved the man but sometimes you swore hockey was the only thing on his mind. "hockey rink? you've got to be kidding. i’m surprised you aren’t dying to get away from your job."

but quinn was already pointing out ideas, his mind running with possibilities, the coloured icing they could use to represent the teams, the different positions they should put in. "what if we add little gingerbread players with tiny sticks? and like, a frosting rink with icing lines?" he was grinning now, clearly enjoying the process way more than he'd let on, enjoying the design park much more than he had the building part.

"you're impossible," you spoke through a laugh, his enthusiasm something you loved about him and couldn't help but let you get in the spirit too.

together, you piped out a frosting rink on the base of the house decorated little gingerbread men with icing and tiny candies, making them into the most chaotic-looking hockey players you'd ever seen, some with more lopsided faces than the others. quinn insisted on adding mini pucks made of chocolate chips.

skylar had also finished her house, adding the final touches the one you and quinn had made too, her a candyland inspired design with sweets lining the road and covering the house.

as the arena started to take shape, you felt a warmth that wasn't just from the hot chocolate on the counter. it was from the way his eyes lit up with every silly detail he added, down to the numbers on the jerseys that his teammates wore.

by the time you were both done, the gingerbread house hockey arena—although a little uneven and very unconventional—was something to be proud of. it was uniquely yours, and in that moment, it was perfect. beside it sat the little actual gingerbread house your niece has made, edible glitter covering the icing and pieces of sweets missing from where she'd eaten them.

quinn stepped back, inspecting your creation with an exaggerated squint. "i think we nailed it," he said, a satisfied smile spreading across his face.

you leaned back in your chair, your head falling to rest his shoulder, admiring the gingerbread arena too. "honestly, it might be a little off-center..." noticing how the roof sloped down on one side while the other held up, "but it sure can't be called basic."

quinn chuckled, sitting next to you. "i think that's what matters most."

[iamgonnagetyouback]

jealous? who, me?

theodore nott x reader where you meet his friends for the first time and daphne is definitely not in your good books

↬ word count : 931 words ˎˊ˗

↬ warnings : secondhand embarrassment (for daphne) ⭑.ᐟ

↬ author's note : i loved this too much (˵ ¬ᴗ¬˵)

navigation┆theodore nott masterlist┆request here 𝜗𝜚

You weren’t supposed to be feeling this way. This was Theodore’s night—his friends, his circle, his world. You’d come to the party with the intention of being supportive and charming, maybe even making a good impression.

Until Daphne Greengrass entered the picture.

She was pretty. Too pretty. Effortlessly gorgeous with her sleek blonde hair, sharp cheekbones, and a laugh that danced through the room like wind chimes. And the worst part? She knew Theodore—knew him well.

You stood beside Theodore, nursing your wine glass and trying to maintain a polite smile as Daphne monopolized the conversation. Her hand brushed his arm—again—and she tossed her hair back with an almost rehearsed air of effortlessness.

Theodore, ever the gentleman, leaned in slightly to hear her better, his lips twitching at something she said. You weren’t entirely sure what was so funny, but you were sure it wasn’t that funny.

“Oh, that’s funny,” you muttered under your breath, your voice laced with dry amusement.

Theodore’s brow quirked, but before he could speak, Daphne excused herself. “Excuse me for a second, I need to grab a drink,” she said, flashing you a quick glance, one you could only describe as calculating.

Theodore turned to you as soon as she was out of earshot, his brows knitting together in mild confusion. “What’s funny?” he asked, his voice low and smooth.

You smiled sweetly, far too sweetly. “Nothing, Tesoro. Just enjoying the show.”

One brow arched as he slid an arm around your waist, pulling you closer. “Amore mio,” he murmured, his voice carrying a teasing edge. “Should I be worried?”

You took a deliberate sip of your wine, eyes flickering toward the direction Daphne had gone. “Not at all. I think you’re the one being thoroughly entertained.”

Theodore’s lips twitched again, this time with a barely concealed laugh. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet, here you are,” you shot back, your smile sharp enough to cut.

His brow quirked, but before he could say something, Daphne made her way over, holding two glasses of champagne. She handed one to Theodore, completely ignoring you.

“Thought you might need a refill,” she said, her tone light and lilting. “We wouldn’t want you getting parched, would we?”

You raised your own glass slightly. “Oh, don’t worry, Daphne. I’m keeping him hydrated just fine.”

Daphne’s smile faltered for half a second before she recovered. “How thoughtful of you.”

“Isn’t it?” you replied, tilting your head with faux innocence. “I like to take care of my things.”

Theodore’s grip on your waist tightened, and you could feel the low rumble of a laugh in his chest, though he didn’t let it escape. Instead, he pressed his lips to your temple in what was meant to be a calming gesture but only fueled your sass.

“So,” Daphne began, clearly trying to redirect. “Theo was just telling me about the time we went to Monaco together. What a trip, right?”

“Monaco?” you echoed, raising an eyebrow. “How quaint. Theo and I were just talking about planning something grander. Italy, maybe. You know, somewhere with a bit more... romance.”

Daphne blinked, clearly thrown off. “Italy’s nice. I’ve been to Tuscany a few times.”

“Of course you have,” you replied, swirling your wine lazily. “So cultured of you.”

Theodore cleared his throat, his grip on your waist now firmly grounding. “Amore mio,” he murmured, his lips brushing your ear. “Play nice.”

“I am playing nice,” you whispered back, your tone dripping with faux sweetness. “She started it.”

“I heard that,” Daphne said, smiling tightly.

“Oh, good,” you said, flashing her a grin. “I’d hate for you to feel left out.”

Theodore’s shoulders shook slightly as he tried—and failed—to suppress a laugh. “Daphne, why don’t you tell me about that new project you mentioned earlier?” he asked, his voice steady despite his amusement.

“Oh, yes!” Daphne launched into an explanation about some fashion venture she was working on, her hands gesturing animatedly. You nodded along, your expression politely disinterested, until she said something you couldn’t resist.

“It’s been such a challenge finding the right balance between trendy and timeless, you know?” Daphne said.

���Oh, I wouldn’t know,” you replied airily. “I just wear whatever Theo likes to take off.”

Daphne’s cheeks turned a shade of pink that clashed horribly with her dress, and Theodore’s hand on your waist flexed as he pulled you even closer.

“Cara mia,” he said softly, his voice low and filled with warning. “Behave.”

“I’m behaving,” you said innocently, glancing up at him with wide eyes. “Aren’t I, Daphne?”

Daphne set her champagne down on a nearby table, her smile now more brittle than bright. “Well, it’s been lovely catching up, Theo,” she said, barely sparing you a glance. “I’ll see you around.”

As soon as she walked away, Theodore let out a quiet laugh, his forehead dropping to your shoulder.

“You’re impossible,” he murmured, his breath warm against your skin.

“She’s impossible,” you shot back.

“She’s harmless.”

“She’s obnoxious.”

He straightened, his dark eyes gleaming as he looked at you. “You’re jealous.”

“Am not.”

“You are,” he teased, pressing a kiss to your temple.

“Fine,” you admitted, crossing your arms. “Maybe I didn’t love the way she looked at you.”

“Amore mio,” he murmured, his voice softer now. “She could look at me all she wants. I’m still going home with you.”

You huffed, but the way his hand slid up your back and the warmth in his eyes softened your irritation.

“You’re lucky you’re cute,” you muttered.

“And you’re lucky I find you endlessly entertaining,” he replied, leaning down to kiss you.

[jeongin-lvr]

Soobin whos big cock stretches you out every night because he’s so addicted to your pussy. like, genuinely can’t get enough. he’ll switch between fucking you in a mating press to eating his own cum out of your lovely, fluttering hole. all the while you mewl his name sleepily because you’ve cum more times than you can count; he doesn’t care, though. he’s enraptured by your pussy. he takes his frustrations out on your holes, he pours all his love out while fucking you, he spells his name on your clit just because he wants to taste you one last time before heading to bed. by the end of the night you’re sore, aching thighs wrapped around his as he kisses you to make it better... though, that might get him hard again

THUS END ME

I fucking love big cock Soobin 😖 it’s way too real tbh listened to sad girl by lana while making this felt whore-ish cw. heavyyyy overstim, soobin is described as bigger than reader.

You’re panting, losing focus on the man above you because he just won’t stop— won’t stop filling you up again and again. And it’s not like you even had the energy to fight back. You’re aching, leaking, sweaty, dewy-eyed. He’s relentless, making you take every stinging inch. You know it’s cliche, a whole trope, but you can feel him in your stomach. In fact, Soobin had the flattened palm of his hand pressed hard against the big tummy bulge you had. You quite literally could feel him all the way in there, thick, long cock rubbing quickly against your inner walls. The wet squelch of your full and spent hole filling the air rapidly, coinciding with your heated moans and whines.

Your hands clawed at his chest, back arching even further than it already was, begging to be brought back down to reality. You felt floaty, head full of air. “S-Soobin— Soob… too much, t-too muchhh—“

Soobin groaned, pressing your thighs up until your knees were right beside your head, shaking legs from repeated orgasm after orgasm. Every single climax ripped from your body in pure ecstasy. Filling your mind with only mumbles of words and the need for more, more, more. Even when your body was so tired, aching for less, begging for a relief, all you needed was more of him. Soobin then planted his hand right beside your head, bigger body contorting and meshing into yours, keeping you under his weight from moving at all. Any squirming you did was ignored, his hips only increasing in speed with wet, nasty slaps of skin.

“No, no, no… fuck, baby,” Soobin’s breath caught in his throat as he spoke, a choked out whine escaping as his fluffy, black hair fell in front of his eyes, then back as he tilted his head backward. His eyebrows were scrunched together, touching as his pouty lips parted, “Need you to take it… y-you gotta take it—“ He was panting like a dog, hovering over you with shaky arms. If anything, he was just as much a wreck as you were at this point. His big hand scooped up the side of your face, cooing at you as wet sounds emitted from your bodies, lips a breath away, “For me, baby, do it f-for me.”

His thumb ran over your skin, sending heat up your cheeks and a stray tear to slip out of your eye, graciously dewing his skin.

“Love your lil’ pussy, honey,” Soobin scrunched his face for the umpteenth time, “Know you can take it… s’tight.”

You mewled, though nodding. You take everything he gives you, even if it was overwhelming. If anything, that’s the best part, isn’t it? That big cock of his felt so fucking good, nearly intoxicating. You both went through this ordeal practically every night and it was pure heaven.

His thumb caressed your cheek, using that same tear you’d so graciously gifted him as a form of lube as his thumb crawled down to your swollen, fat clit. You jerked as he thumbed the lil love bud, a sputtering moan falling from your lips. Soobin’s thrusts were sloppy, each little sound he made reminding you of how good he was feeling, how not only you were feeling pleasure. Not that it wasn’t obvious with the way he spoke to you and handled you. So delicate, gentle, yet at the same time dominate and strong.

“My baby, my cute fucking girl��” Soobin moaned again, you can tell by the breathlessness of his voice that he was close again. Your pussy ached from being so full, his tip drilling endlessly against your womb, deeply pressing into that soft lil gummy spot. It had your eyes rolling into the back of your head, biting your lip to hide the stupidly loud sounds you wanted to let out, “Love you on my big cock, baby, look so p-pretty,” Confession spilled from open lips, slack jaw only widening as he tipped closer to a finish, “My baby loves when I breed her cunt, hm? One more, I promise…”

[orangeblossomsintheair]

CARLOS SAINZ

carlos sainz jr LOVES pussy guys

carlos only ever wants what’s best for his pretty girl.

he lives for the way your eyes light up when you smile, for the way you soften and melt into his arms like you were made to fit there.

that’s why he’s here now, kneeling at the edge of your bed, his hands moving tenderly as he works to remove your heels after a long night.

the soft glow from the bedside lamp catches in his dark hair, casting shadows across his face as he carefully peels off each heel, one by one.

he looks up, eyes flicking to your face as he gently lifts your ankle, his lips pressing a soft, lingering kiss to the delicate skin. he studies your expression, searching for any sign of discomfort, eyes wide in that puppy-like way only he can pull off.

when he finds none, only sees the slow rise and fall of your breath and the way your eyes flutter closed, he smiles to himself, content.

his lips move higher, kissing up your leg, every touch sending a ripple of warmth through you. he stops just shy of your thigh, his cheek resting against your skin as he exhales softly, the heat of his breath making you shiver.

his fingers find the hem of your skirt, toying with it lazily, the rough pads of his fingertips brushing against your thigh like he has all the time in the world.

his dark eyes lift to meet yours, heavy-lidded and full of something you can’t quite name but feel deep in your core. he tilts his head, his voice a low, teasing rasp. “can i pull this off, cariño?”

the question lingers in the air, soft but charged.

he’s not just asking, it’s an offering, a promise that he’ll only go as far as you let him. and yet, there’s something in the way he looks at you, a quiet confidence that says he already knows your answer.

he just wants to hear it from your lips.

you nod quickly, hoping it’s enough, but carlos only shakes his head, his smirk growing “use your words, my love,” he says, his voice low and smooth, each word deliberate. “need you to say it out loud for me. can you do that for me, cariño?”

your hips shift instinctively, your breath catching in your throat as you try to keep your composure. “c-carlos,” you stammer, your voice barely a whisper, the heat of his gaze making it impossible to think straight.

he raises an eyebrow, tilting his head slightly as if he doesn’t control your axis. “what was that, hm?” his tone is as light as it is maddening. “i didn’t quite catch that, pretty girl.”

you swallow hard, biting back the whine threatening to escape, and force the words out before he makes you wait any longer. “yes,” you breathe, louder this time. “yes, please, carlos.”

his smirk softens, replaced by something warmer, deeper. “there’s my good girl,” he murmurs, the praise sinking into your skin like sunlight. his hands move deliberately now, his fingers curling into the waistband of your skirt as he tugs it down, inch by agonizing inch.

he doesn’t take his eyes off you, watching every twitch of your lips, every flutter of your lashes, like he’s committing the moment to memory. “so pretty,” he mutters under his breath, almost like he doesn’t mean to say it out loud.

when the skirt finally pools around your feet, he lets out a soft hum of approval, his hands smoothing over your thighs. “see? all you had to do was ask, cariño,” he teases, his lips brushing against your skin as he speaks. “wasn’t so hard, was it?”

you barely manage a shake of your head, your breath hitching as he presses a kiss just above your knee, then another, working his way up slowly.

you whine, the soft sound slipping from your lips before you can catch it. “carlos, please... stop teasing.”

a slow, amused smile tugs at the corners of his lips as he lowers his head, his breath hot against your skin.

“teasing?” he murmurs, looking up at you. “i’m not teasing, cariño. i’m savoring.”

you try to pull yourself together, but his hands, his proximity, it’s all too much. “savoring?” you repeat, voice trembling, desperate for him to do something.

“si,” he hums, dragging his fingers lightly along your skin, just enough to make you shiver. “you’re too beautiful to rush, mi amor.” his voice drops, almost teasing, but there’s a rawness behind it that makes your heart skip. “besides, i’m not some boy who doesn’t know how to take his time.”

you try to shift, but his hands are on you in an instant, gently but firmly, keeping you exactly where he wants you. “carlos…” you breathlessly protest, but there’s no real heat behind it.

carlos presses a soft kiss to the inside of your thigh, the scratch of his stubble making you breath hitch. “relax, baby,” he murmurs. “i’m not going anywhere. not yet.” he glances up at you. “you’re gonna have to be patient with me.”

his words send a shiver down your spine, and even though you’re desperate, you find yourself unable to move, caught in the slow, inevitable pull of him. “you’re cruel,” you whisper, but even that sounds like a plea.

“only because i love you.”

his hands glide up your thighs, gently spreading your legs, the heat of his touch making you squeeze around nothing. he settles between your thighs, his body close enough that you can feel the weight of his presence.

the corner of his mouth curls up into a lazy smile as his gaze drifts lower, drinking in the sight of you. his eyes flick back to yours, grin deepening as he notices the delicate bow on your underwear.

“look at that,” he breathes, filled with admiration. “you’re teasing me now, aren’t you?”

the words send a jolt through you, his eyes lingering on the subtle detail. he watches the way you react, the soft tremor in your breath, the way your chest rises and falls as you try to hold it together.

“such a pretty thing..” he whispers, his fingers grazing the edges of your skin, just enough to make you ache.

he seems to take pity on you when he picks up on the small whimpers that escape your lips, the soft, desperate sounds that you can’t hold back no matter how hard you try.

the sight makes his cock twitch in his pants, already straining against the zipper.

you yelp as his nose grazes your clothed sex, inhaling the scent of you and letting it overcome every one of his senses.

“joder... you smell so fucking good, cariño," carlos groans against your core, his hot breath seeping through the thin material. he nuzzles into your heat, relishing in the way your body responds to his touch.

he grips your thighs, pulling you closer to the edge of the bed as he begins to mouth at the damp fabric covering your cunt.

"that's it," he murmurs against your covered sex, hot breath ghosting over you. "let me taste you."

he starts slow at first, not wanting to overwhelm you, dragging his tongue along your slit through the material in long, teasing licks. you’re so wet that he can taste you even through the thin barrier.

he drags his tongue along your slit again, the lace thin enough that it lets him find your clit through memory as he swirls his tongue around the sensitive nub.

"could eat this sweet pussy for hours.” he grins, punctuating his words with open-mouthed kisses before he slowly tugs your panties off.

carlos lets out an approving groan at the sight of your soaked little cunt, his thumbs parting your glistening folds to reveal your slick entrance.

"you're absolutely dripping, cariño," he breathed out, his eyes dark with lust as they rake over you. "and all for me?"

he doesn’t (can’t, really) wait for an answer, immediately leaning in and dragging his tongue along your slit, groaning at the taste. he works his way up to your throbbing clit, swirling the tip of his tongue around the sensitive bundle of nerves before drawing it between his lips to suckle gently.

"mmhmm, fuck, you taste divine, cariño," he praises, voice muffled. "I could drown myself in your perfect little pussy."

he continues to work diligently with his tongue, alternating between quick flicks over your swollen bud and slow, languid licks up your slit. every now and then, he thrusts his tongue inside you, fucking you shallowly as he laps up every drop you give him.

carlos can feel your walls fluttering and clenching around his invading tongue, your arousal growing by the second as he eats you out like a man starved. the obscene sounds of your wetness fills the room, mixing with your high-pitched moans and gasps.

"that's it, baby," he encourages between licks, his stubble scratching deliciously against your inner thighs. "ride my face just like that. use me for your pleasure."

he seals his lips around your bud again, sucking hard as he thrusts two thick fingers inside your tight channel.

carlos pumps them slowly at first, giving your walls a chance to stretch around the intrusion, but quickly setting a fast pace once he thinks you can handle it, curling them just so.

a strangled cry tears from your throat as you feel carlos' fingers curl inside you, finding that spot that made your vision blur and your toes curl.

"yes, yes, yes!" you chant mindlessly, grinding yourself down onto his face shamelessly as he finger-fucked you with the precision of a man who’s memorized your body. your juices gush out around his digits, coating his chin and dripping down his neck.

carlos simply groans in approval, lapping up your overflowing juices, his other hand moving to rub firm circles over your clit in tandem with his fingers.

"come for me, cariño, cmon," he begs against your weeping sex. he shifts to settle more comfortably between your splayed thighs, hands gripping your hips to hold you steady as he doubles his efforts. fingers pump faster, curling.

"come on, baby, I can feel you teetering on the edge," carlos coaxes. "let go and soak my face, show me how good you are.."

he seals his lips around your clit and sucks hard, grazing the sensitive bundle with his teeth as he flicks it with the tip of his tongue.

just as he feels you starting to tense, carlos curves his fingers sharply.

with a sharp cry of ecstasy, your back arches off the bed as your climax crashes over you, waves of bliss radiating outward from your core. your hands scrabble for purchase, fingers grasping at the sheets as your body jerks and shudders.

carlos groans in satisfaction as your release floods his mouth, lapping and suckling at your pulsing sex to catch every drop.

even as your aftershocks begin to subside, he continues his attentions, peppering your quivering thighs with soft kisses and gentle nips. his hands caress your sides and hips soothingly, grounding you as you float in the aftermath of your orgasm.

finally, he crawls up your body to hover over you, dark brown eyes dark with tender adoration. "you took me so well, mi amor," he praises, brushing damp tendrils of hair from your face. "so perfect, coming apart so beautifully for me."

he captures her lips in a deep, filthy kiss, before pulling away and folding your knees to your chest. “i think you’re wet enough to take my cock now. what do you think, hm?”

[aniesvision]

𝑭𝒂𝒄𝒆𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒆- 𝑴𝒂𝒕𝒕 𝑺𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐

𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: 𝒔𝒖𝒈𝒈𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒗𝒆, 𝒅𝒊𝒓𝒕𝒚 𝒋𝒐𝒌𝒆𝒔, 𝒊𝒎𝒑𝒍𝒊𝒄𝒊𝒕 𝒔𝒎𝒖𝒕

𝚊/𝚗: 𝒎𝒊𝒔𝒔 𝒎𝒆? 𝒉𝒆𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒐𝒓𝒓𝒚 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒅𝒊𝒔𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒂 𝒎𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒉 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒊𝒎 𝒃𝒂𝒄𝒌𝒌𝒌 𝒂𝒍𝒔𝒐 𝒊𝒎 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒈𝒐𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒐 𝒎𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝒂 𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕 2 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒃𝒄 𝒊 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒕𝒐𝒐 𝒎𝒖𝒄𝒉 𝒕𝒐 𝒘𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆 𝒂𝒍𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒚 𝒔𝒐𝒓𝒓𝒚 ☹︎ 𝒆𝒏𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒉 𝒊𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒎𝒚 𝒇𝒊𝒓𝒔𝒕 𝒍𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒖𝒂𝒈𝒆!!

𝚜𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: 𝒂𝒏𝒔𝒘𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒃𝒆𝒔𝒕 𝒇𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅'𝒔 𝒇𝒂𝒄𝒆𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒆 𝒄𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒘𝒉𝒊𝒍𝒆 𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒘𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒈𝒊𝒗𝒆𝒔 𝒉𝒊𝒎 𝒔𝒐𝒎𝒆 𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒂𝒔...

-Hey, what's up? -You ask, answering your best friend's facetime call.

He starts speaking without even looking at the screen when his words stop.

-Wait, are you in the shower? -He asks, confused.

You giggle, tilting your head back to wet your hair. The camera was only showing your shoulders up, so there was nothing for him to see, but it was an obvious sight that you were showering at the moment.

-Yep, what did you call for?

You turn to grab the shampoo bottle and start washing your hair, as Matt shakes his head in disbelief and gives a small smirk as he processes that you just answered his Facetime call while showering.

-Just asking if you wanna come over tonight, Nick and Chris are going to a party that I definitely don't wanna go and I could use some company.

You smile, nodding your head and closing your eyes to cleanse the shampoo out of your head.

-Sure, I'll just get out of the shower, put some clothes on and go.

-I mean, you can skip the clothes part. -He jokes, making me look at the camera.

-Oh, yeah, want Nick and Chris to see me naked as well? -I tease back, knowing it wasn't uncommon for us to flirt as a joke sometimes.

-You know what? Clothes are fine, you can put clothes on.

You laugh, shaking your hand to get rid of the excess of water and take your phone in hand, making sure to keep the camera at a safe height.

-You're weird. I'll be there in a few, love ya, bye. -You wave at the screen, fake kissing the camera before ending the call.

You set your phone down at the counter and focus on your shower, doing what you need to do and stepping out. After choosing some comfy clothes and doing some natural makeup you get your keys, phone and wallet and get in your car, driving to Matt's.

You knock on their door, being greeted by Nick and hugging him. He and Chris were just about to leave so you talked to them a bit until they left before walking to Matt's room.

-Hey. -You say, walking in without even knocking.

He jumped a bit, taking one side of his headphones out of the ear and looking at you.

-Hi, didn't know you were here already. -He puts his headphones down, standing up to hug you.

-I was talking to your brothers, they just left by the way.

You separate and sit on his bed, chatting about your week and asking about the party his brothers went to.

-Did you bring stuff to stay the night? -He asks, turning on his tv.

-Was I supposed to? -You ask back.

He raises an eyebrow at you, making you laugh.

-Of course I did.

He rolls his eyes, handing you the remote so you can choose something for you both to watch.

-Good, you're not going home late at night alone anyway.

-I might go, I'm crazy. -You tease, pressing play on a random movie that seemed nice.

-Yeah, you are, answering your friend's facetime while in the shower is crazy. -He drags the word, raising his eyebrows.

-It's just you, though, it's not a big deal. -You roll your eyes at him with a smirk.

Matt turns sideways, holding his weight in one arm, looking at you with a mix of curiosity and disbelief.

-What do you mean it's "just me"? -He asks, making air quotes with his free hand.

You chuckle, looking back at him.

-Just that you're my best friend, so I don't mind. -You try to explain, his face lighting up in response.

-You don't care if I see you naked? -He tilts his head to the side, teasingly.

-Not really. -You shrug, not taking this as seriously as it was until he places his free hand on your waist.

-Why? Think I wouldn't want to fuck you just because we're best friends? -His voice is full of teasing and amusement, almost making you nervous.

Almost. But the chances of him doing this just to mess with you are higher than him meaning it, so you decide to believe he's just playing with your mind.

-I think that's the last thing you want. -You reply, being sincere.

He stays silent for a few seconds, a smirk on his face only growing as he licks his lips, trying not to laugh at how perfect the situation is working for him.

-You're wrong, though.

It's barely above a whisper, but it's there, a confirmation that this wasn't just a simple tease. Your eyes widen as you hear the words, a wave of nervousness finally hitting you for good, your chest rising and falling rapidly as you try to think of what to say now.

-What? -You ask, voice a little shaky, needing a better confirmation, not convinced enough.

Matt moves closer to you, hovering your body, thumb drawing circles on your waist over your shirt. He carefully takes in your reactions, eyes flicking between yours and your lips.

-You had me thinking about how you look like. -He confesses, not breaking eye contact.

-How your body looks like without any clothes on, how it would be like to be there with you, watching you, touching you.

Your heart is beating fast, breathing hitching with every word he says.

-Matt, stop being weird, I might actually believe you. -You try to laugh the nervousness away, still unconvinced that you're best friend is saying stuff like that and meaning it.

He's probably just wanting to make you blush or whatever and then laugh about it.

-Why is it so hard to believe? -He asks, amused by your reactions, leaning even closer to you.

He has a smirk on his face that does nothing to hide how much he's enjoying this moment, your chest moving faster showing him he's making you nervous and for some reason he loves to see you like this, your cheeks turning pink as the seconds pass by.

-Why would you want to see your best friend naked? -You ask, like it was a rhetorical question, not expecting an answer, just an acknowledgment of how crazy it sounds.

-Why wouldn't I? -He asks back.

He had an answer for everything and wasn't letting the subject down, if he was lying there was no reason to prolong the joke so much. You take a deep breath, almost a gasp, when he gets even closer, whispering in your ear.

-All the flirting wasn't enough for you to realize I want you?

His voice is low and calm, but with a hint of teasing that makes your heart skip a few beats.

-I thought we were just joking around. -Your voice is equally low, but different than his yours is full of reluctance.

-I wasn't.

He lifts his head to look at you, your faces so close you could feel his breathing against your skin. His eyes searched yours, seeing your confusion, but you weren't pushing him away, which was enough for him to take his shot.

Matt's lips find yours in a soft kiss, barely putting any pressure, giving you the chance to stop if you wanted to, but you got so surprised that your only option was to kiss him back. Not that you hated it, you always thought Matt was amazing, you just never saw him as more than a friend until now.

Slowly he deepens the kiss, asking for permission to slide his tongue in by licking your bottom lips and you grant it to him immediately. He is a good kisser, and although you're best friends there was always something about him that attracted you, so you wouldn't complain about it at all.

He pulled away to catch his breath, scanning your face, searching for any kind of bad reactions.

-Was that okay? -He asks, wanting to make sure he wasn't making you uncomfortable.

You nod, smiling at him and letting yourself enjoy it without thinking too much about the consequences of your actions.

-Yeah, definitely okay.

He smiles at your words before capturing your lips with another kiss again, this time with an urgency that comes with his hand exploring your body and the little shyness left on him disappearing as soon as your arms wrap around his neck.

Matt rolls to be on top of you completely, slowly grinding on you, showing you how hard he is. The sensation of kissing him, with him on top of you, feeling how hard he was, is definitely something that you'd never thought would happen, but just to know he was hard because of you made you feel slightly bolder, sliding your hands under his shirt and lightly scratching his stomach.

-If you want to stop please tell me now because if we start this I won't be able to stop. -He looks at me intently, both arms on each side of my body, keeping him up.

Part of you screamed this was a bad idea, it could ruin all you built with him, but your mouth worked faster than your brain and you caught yourself giving him an answer you knew you could regret later.

-I don't.

➪ @riowritesitall @sturniolosarethebest @hyacinthst @deers4luv @sturncakez @watercolorskyy @delooshunalhoe @sarosfilms @blahbel668 @sturniyolo69 @sturniolosl0t @colbsposts00 @fallingforfalll2 @stvrnmc @faithlia @katie-tibo @monroesturnns @mattnchrisworld @shaquilles-0atmeal @fratbrochrisgf @dayzeandhaze @phimstarz @h3arts4harry @star-yawnznn @asherrisrandom @pip4444chris @sturniolo-fann @beansprout713 @conspiracy-ash @sturnsxbitvh @ivysturnss @mattsbitchh @larallott

[jollyhunter]

24 Kinky Days with Dean x reader - Day 16.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!reader

Warnings: NSFW - MDNI! - includes explicit sexual content (somno, intense fingering, edging, overstimulation), soft!dom Dean, also some fluff sprinkled on top of it ♡ (Also! English is not my native language)

Summary: Dean loves to pleasure you when you’re still in your half-sleep, still dozy and all his to play with and to take care of… and this time he coaxes you into taking a little more than usual.

Words: 2,520

Feedback and reblogs are highly appreciated! And let me know whether you enjoy it so far! <3 A/N: I skipped the 15th Dec. prompt, since I felt like writing this one first. I'll post the 15th later some time! On another note; I've got a new theme! Made my own lil' banner and such. Hope you like it 😳 ANYWAY

♡ ENJOY THE torturous EDGING MY LITTLE VIXENS ♡

16th Dec. - Roll Over Rule

The sound of Dean’s serene breaths make you tiptoe your way around the bed, careful not to wake him from his deep sleep. It was late, 3AM by now. You’d done some late night research in the War room with Sam, losing track of time as you often did. And you’d basically forced Dean to go to bed a few hours ago since he had stayed up the past nights.

You slowly slip under the covers and still in your movement for a moment – listening for the slow rhythm of his breath. Good, he is still asleep. And he has occupied 3/4rd of the bed as always. Your face softens as your eyes take in his peaceful state; his face pressed into the pillow, his ruffled dark blond hair still a bit damp from the midnight shower. He’s on his stomach, his body twisted in a way that almost makes you wince inwardly. And his left arm stretched out to your bedside. Waiting for you to latch onto it, as it had become a silent habit of yours.

You gently grab his arm and snuggle up to him. Your arms wrap tightly around his muscled upper arm and his forearm gets tucked nicely between your thighs. Dean stirs briefly, mumbling something before he angles his head to rest it against the top of yours. You let out a soft, content sigh, relieved that you didn’t wake him from his dreamless sleep. Soon enough you fall asleep with your limbs entangled with his arm, feeling his comforting warmth and listening to his calming breaths of a slow steady rhythm.

You don’t know how much time has passed, maybe an hour or so, when you feel Dean’s arm slightly twist in your grip. Suddenly his hand slips between your legs to cradle you there with palms up. Your mind’s still too sleepy to fully register what’s going on when a little shiver goes straight to your core. A small, almost imperceptible one. But your body acts on instinct and doesn’t need your mind for what it subconsciously craves. You suddenly let go of his arm and roll over onto your stomach – a sleeping position you usually never take. Unless, it’s meant as a green light for Dean to go on.

Yeah, you had been pretty needy lately. ‘Damn, you’re like a bitch in heat, babe.’ As Dean had commented on it shamelessly. Which not only made you sputter, but had Sam choke on his beer and Cas raise his eyebrows in confusion, secretly wondering why Dean would compare you with a female dog.

Your mind quickly slips back into that cozy sleep – whereas Dean seems to have woken up beside you. He places soft kisses along your neck, his hand gently running up and down your body, occasionally slipping beneath your pyjamas.

Next moment you remember, you feel hot and aroused. Your inner thighs are wet, your clit swollen and you’re panting slightly. And then you feel his two fingers slip inside you, effortlessly parting your slick folds. A meek moan escapes your lips, your mind still somewhere caught between sleep and excited arousal.

“You good, sweetheart..?” you hear his gravel voice next to your ear. You nod, not wanting the pleasure to stop but too sleepy to form any words.

He picks up a tantalizing pace. His small and middle finger pumping inside your dripping wet cunt while his index and middle finger slide along your folds, pinching your clit between them with every thrust. Your moans grow louder and soon turn into needy whimpers, begging him for release.

“Mh? Tell me baby…” your answer once again is a weak, short whimper. A thick haze clouding your sleep-addled mind and ridding you of any capability to form a thought, let alone words. It’s like you’ve been turned into a whimpering, mewling mess – powerless in every form. At this moment you were his entirely. Completely at his mercy. And knowing Dean, you are left with no other option but to take the overwhelming pleasure and to teeter on that torturous edge. Over. And over. And over.

Dean is truly a master in the art of edging. His calloused fingers playing you like it’s child’s play, hitting every spot at the right moment and – to your frustration – changing rhythm and withdrawing them every single time right before you get to fall over the edge. Leaving you mewling desperately, close to tears from the overwhelming built up tension in your core. You cry and pant into the pillow breathless while he starts over with the procedure, denying you the final relief with a cheeky grin of his.

Soon a third finger is jammed into your throbbing cunt. Dean and you groan in harmony when your walls clamp his fingers, pulling them in like they were made for you. He bites back another deep moan before grazing his bottom lip with his teeth. "Damn... sweetheart, you're killin' me here..."

Once he rode you through another round of edging by switching between the numbers of fingers every now and then, you quickly adjust to the new size.

When Dean notices how his fingers slide in and out so effortlessly, an idea forms in his head. He suddenly presses his lips against the shell of your ear. His voice a husky whisper, gentle and yet demanding, “Show me how deep you want it.”

You don’t even think, your body acting on its own. It’s like he’s got you under some magic spell, the relentless working of his fingers keeping you spellbound. His hand stills while you buck your hips against his hand. Further and further up, angling it while you press your chest into the mattress – the increasing tightness making you whimper and bite down on the pillow.

But to Dean’s amazement, you keep pushing against him, taking it all the way. Even when he slowly slips a fourth finger inside. He bites back another guttural groan. The feeling of you clamping his fingers and now even slowly, tentatively rocking your hips against him is almost too much for him.

“That’s it…” he murmurs, a hint of pride in his voice which doesn’t go unnoticed by you, despite your mindless state. You roll your hips up against him and a loud groan erupts from your throat at the intense sensation of him splitting you apart.

Dean leans a bit back to relish the view with parted lips: He’s knuckles-deep inside you. His four thick fingers stretching you to the point you feel like you might explode. He’s completely filling you, his fingertips hitting your most sensitive spot at the very end.

He lets you set the pace, only occasionally curling his fingers as he draws sounds from you which can only be describe as borderline pornographic. Every whine and mewl are rewarded with a stronger flick of his thumb over your swollen clit. Your legs are shaking and you buckle from the increased friction, the pleasure doubled with a simple continues rub against your bud.

It doesn’t take long until your legs not only tremble but start to give in and fight the mattress for some form of control. Short erratic puffs of breath burst out of your mouth and a little dribble of saliva escapes the corner of your lips. The sight alone would’ve almost sent Dean, but the sounds you made – my God your sounds of pleasure where like heaven to him.

Desperate and overwhelmed, your body starts to act on its own again; your legs kick and squirm and writhe. Your hips suddenly jerk away and your fingers dig into the sheets enough to strangle a grown man.

Dean’s eyes widen briefly, leaning down with his weight to keep you still. “Shhh-Shhh,” he coos reassuringly, but with an almost mock-innocent undertone. As if that sly bastard didn’t know that you are on the brink of breaking.

He slings his leg around one of your kicking legs, effectively holding it in a deadlock as he presses it back into the mattress. “Ah-ah-ah,” he playfully warns you with a cocky smirk, “Stay here, sweetheart… ain’t done with ya yet…” He moves his free hand up to the back of your head where he carefully threads his fingers through your hair, taking a fist full to gently tug your head back and hold you in place.

A pleading whimper leaves your lips. Begging for relief, for him to finally allow you to fall over that damn edge. You try to voice your plea for mercy but any word that’s meant to leave your lips is smushed into another pathetic, strangled noise on its way out.

“Damn… can’t even talk any more can ya, gorgeous…” Dean chuckles deeply, his rumbling chest vibrating against your back as he keeps you pinned down under his weight. You can feel the muscles of his hard calf, tense and unyielding against your trapped leg. Your thigh straining against him in vain, twitching and trembling. Your toes claw at the sheets in a desperate attempt to break free from his grip, whimpering something which he recognises as a scrambled, frustrated “please”. But he doesn’t budge, his strength effortlessly keeping you at his mercy and leaving you no chance of escaping his onslaught.

He leans down to your ear, his voice dropping an octave when he asks teasingly, “You wanna come? That it, baby? You want me to make ya come?”

Yes, yes, yes yes yes – you keep repeating the word in your head until you realize that you’re only whining more. Dean chuckles, “That a yes? Hm? What was that?”

Oh Jesus Christ he’s enjoying this way too much. This time you nod – frantically. Not taking the risk of your answer getting lost again. Your sounds are hoarse by now, your body contorting from his four fingers slowly moving inside your cunt and his thumb working your clit every now and then – not enough to let the knot in your stomach burst, but enough to keep you on the brink of it. He falls into a tantalizing pace, sometimes shallow, sometimes so deep that it makes your half-lidded eyes roll back with a pained groan.

Dean meanwhile drinks in the sight of you squirming from the pleasure he can give you, all at his mercy, making sure to not give you a single moment of catching your breath.

“Oh yeah..?” Dean lets out a low hum. He pulls your ear lobe between his teeth and gives you a little tug at your hair. You’re shaking, even your whimpering sounds are clipped, breathless and trembling, your mind numb by now. Your body overstimulated and exhausted from chasing that sweet relief for what feels like hours.

“Jesus, you’re so vocal babe… you know how hard this gets me?” He groans against the side of your face and he grinds his rock hard erection against your hip to prove his statement. After a moment, he releases the grip on your hair and moves his hand down your neck, angling his shoulders to push his arm down between your shoulder blades to keep you from wiggling away. “You’re such a good girl for me…” he says while shifting his position on top of you, “And good girls get a reward…”

Fucking finally. A long shaky exhale escapes you when his weight presses down on you, his body covering you like a heavy blanket. He supports himself by leaning up on his right elbow, always making sure not to put too much pressure on you, but enough to let you feel his strength and the power over you.

His hot, ragged breath hits your ear once more. Whispering in that gravelly and authoritative tone of his, every word punctured by a deep thrust of his fingers, “’M gonna count down from ten… and when I hit zero... I want you to come for me baby, understand?”

Lord have mercy. You nod again, although most of his words went past you and at this point you would have probably agreed to anything for that relief. With your brain melted into a useless puddle, you feel like your only driven by need and primal instincts by now.

And then, the next ten seconds feel like the most intense you have ever experienced. With every number you feel your knot tighten more, your core burning up as if it was to explode any second – but not yet, not yet —

“…seven…”

He moves his arm along your back to grab your left hand, holding it down. “…six...” His fingers intertwine with yours, while his other hand picks up its pace. “…five…” You’re suddenly arching your back, involuntarily trying to squirm away from him. But his firm chest keeps you safe beneath him, while his lips form the next number against your ear, “…four…”

Almost there. Your free knee slides along the mattress aimlessly and your other hand rips at the pillow, feeling like your body is about to snap into two. “…three…”

Determined to get you there, his calloused thumb flicks your overstimulated bud without mercy, earning himself another guttural whimper of yours, “-that’s it, let me hear ya …two…”

The sound of his low rumbling voice cuts right through your haze and a shudder shoots through your body. The anticipation’s almost killing you at this point, feeling coiled up like a spring.

“…one…” You can feel it, the wave building up and ready to crash down on you. Dean can sense you’re on the very edge too and he intends to send you over it this time. He gently bites down on your neck, muttering his final order against your skin, “…zero… come for me, sunshine.” You go tense like a bowstring and your head snaps forward to bury your face in his elbow. When, at last, the wave hits your body and the knot in your stomach finally explodes with a strangled scream of relief. Several shudders of pleasure ripple through you, leaving you twist and turn, sandwiched between the mattress and Dean’s heavy body. He lets you ride out your high, his strong muscles working to hold you close to his chest.

You pant heavily, shakily. Your mind finally clearing. Your bleary eyes fully opening for the first time, like this was all just a dream too good to be true. His voice draws your attention to his face, when he gasps. “Jesus sweetheart… it’s like a swimmin’ pool down here.”

That comment takes you so much off guard, that you break out into a surprised laughter. He grins at you before he joins with his own hearty bark of amusement, a cocky grin on his face. “I ain’t kiddin’ – I’m growin’ fins!” He holds up his drenched hand, wrinkled skin, wiggling his cum-covered fingers in front of your eyes, “Look!”

He chuckles and his widened eyes take in the mess with something like fascination and an eager lick of his lips. The corners of his smile pull up into a lazy grin when his emerald eyes meet your satisfied and dozy, half-lidded ones again. “Y’know… I think ’m gonna need to clean up that mess down there.”

Masterlist of opened windows:

1st Dec. - Sunshine 2nd Dec. - Spell Book 3rd Dec. - Lights Out 4th Dec. - Tickle 5th Dec. - Dirty UNO 6th Dec. - (TBA) 7th Dec. - Candlelight 8th Dec. - Hex Play 9th Dec. - Whip Stroke 10th Dec. - Barbie World 11th Dec. - Temptation ... (check the masterlist for more!)

Tags:

@ariasong11 @deansjacket @literallylexa @lmpala1967 @foxyjwls007 @impala67rollingthroughtown

[candycandy00]

Welcome to Christmas Island! - A Sanji x Reader Fanfic

You work on Christmas Island, where every day is Christmas! All guests get to make a wish to Santa and have it granted. When the Straw Hat pirates show up, you decide to grant the wish of their handsome blonde cook. 

Smut. 18+. Sanji x Fem Reader. Implied that Sanji is a virgin. Oral sex. Cream pie. I haven’t written Sanji in 20 years so I hope I got him right!

Dividers by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more!

Part of CandyCandy’s Kinkmas 2024!

You’ve lived and worked on Christmas Island for the past few years, but you still get excited each time new guests arrive, especially when they’re famous. 

It was only a matter of time before the Straw Hat pirates landed on this little island, and all your coworkers were equally hyped up to meet them. You’ve all followed their exploits in the newspapers for months, becoming fans along the way. Even the owner of the island, “Santa”, admires them! 

You’ve looked at all their wanted posters countless times, but one of them stood out to you: a silly looking blonde man named Sanji. While your friends were more interested in the more “cool looking” pirates, you found Sanji charming. You know it’s a silly picture, so you’re interested in finding out what he actually looks like. 

Your chance comes when the Straw Hats arrive and check into the enormous resort that takes up the entire island. They walk in, most of them gawking at the huge lobby full of Christmas trees and twinkling lights. They’re chatting and laughing amongst themselves, and their reputation for being fun-loving seems to be accurate.

Taming your excitement, you hurry over to greet them in your candy cane striped dress. 

“Welcome to Christmas Island!” you say in your cheeriest voice. “Please come in and sit down. I’ll explain how things work here.”

They begin taking seats in the plush red sofas positioned in the middle of the room. You do a mental headcount as you watch them, trying not to seem like an overly eager fan. 

Sanji spots you before you spot him. He steps up beside you, gently taking your hand in his. “Such a lovely lady here to welcome us!” he says, placing a quick kiss on the top of your hand. “This island is a dream already!”

When he raises his face to look at you, a breath catches in your throat. He’s way more handsome than you expected! His wanted poster barely resembles him, but the blonde hair and curly eyebrow are unmistakable. 

He smiles at you and takes his seat. You give the group a moment to settle down and get quiet before you begin. 

“On Christmas Island, every day is Christmas! At this resort, you’ll each write a letter to “Santa” asking for a Christmas present. You’ll receive that gift during your stay. Keep in mind we can only grant wishes for material goods or services. We can’t give you impossible things. For example, you can’t ask us to withdraw bounties or give you skills that can’t be learned while you’re here.”

They seem to understand, a few of them nodding. You pass out fancy notecards for them to write their Christmas wishes on, along with red envelopes for them to seal the “letters to Santa” in. 

A woman you recognize as Nami looks a bit skeptical as she eyes the notecard. “How much does this cost?”

Some of the others look at you, curious about the answer. 

You smile and shake your head. “No cost at all! There’s normally a fee, but since we’re all fans of the Straw Hat pirates, even Santa said to give you all the VIP treatment at no charge!”

The group seems happy to hear that, a couple of them actually cheering. Then they all begin writing on their notecards. Once they’re finished, you retrieve them and another employee shows the guests to their rooms. They’re all given private rooms, each one beautifully decorated with festive trees and lights. 

Later, you and two coworkers are reading the notecards to begin processing the wishes. 

“Look,” your friend says, giggling as she holds one out. “The captain just wrote one word: Meat!”

You laugh as you glance at a card in your own hand that says, “A year’s supply of cola”. 

Most of the requests are fairly reasonable and fit the crew members’ reputations. But at the bottom of the stack is one that stands out to you. 

“A sweet lady who wants to spend time with me.”

Your heart nearly skips a beat. You expected something perverted from the famously horny cook of the Straw Hat pirates, but Sanji’s request is surprisingly cute. 

“Can I take this one?” you ask, a little worried that one of your coworkers might have their eye on him. 

The two women look at each other and shrug. “It’s yours if you want it,” one of them says. The other nods in agreement. 

Thank goodness! You didn’t want there to be any awkwardness with your friends, but you were prepared to argue for this. Thankfully you don’t have to. 

One of them leans toward you conspiratorially. “What if he just wrote that as a nice way of saying he wants someone to fuck him?”

You grin at her. “Actually, I’m kind of hoping that’s the case!”

The others squeal in delight and cheer you on. “You get it, girl!”

You return to your own quarters to freshen up and change into your cutest red dress, then you head down the guest hall to find Sanji’s room. You only have to knock once before he opens it. Was he waiting by the door for his “present”?

He blinks as he looks at you, then smiles. “Oh, you’re the one who welcomed us!”

You return his smile. “I’m surprised you recognized me.” There are lots of women working here who wear the same dress you had on earlier. It’s basically the uniform. 

He steps aside, opening the door wider and gesturing for you to come in. “I never forget a beautiful lady’s face,” he tells you as you walk into his room. 

The comment makes you blush, but you giggle nervously and change the subject. “Are you settled in okay? Do you need anything?”

Looking around the room, you can see the closet door slightly open, and a few dress shirts neatly hanging inside. The bed doesn’t appear to be messed up at all, and everything is in its place. On a small table with two chairs, there’s a glass ash tray that’s nearly full. 

“I don’t need anything at all,” he says as he pulls out one of the chairs for you. “But can I offer you something to drink? I’m sure you know what the options are.”

You do. There’s a small variety of alcoholic drinks in the mini fridge, plus a hot water machine with various teas and coffees. 

As you sit in the offered chair, you accept his offer, taking a cup of tea. In all honesty, you just want to watch him prepare something. His skills are quite well known.  

You watch him fix your tea, his hands moving expertly to prepare it in the perfect manner. Then he sits the steaming cup in front of you and takes the seat on the other side of the table. 

The tea is delicious of course, leaving you wondering what you’ve been doing when you make it for yourself. He seems to like watching you enjoy it, a smile practically glued to his face. 

“It’s wonderful! I can’t believe it’s from the same tea we use!” 

After a few minutes of friendly chatting, you sit down your empty cup and get down to business. “Regarding your wish…”

His smile falters, a blush creeps over his face. “It’s okay if it can’t be granted!” he says quickly. “I’ll just take some new utensils, or maybe some rare spices if you have them here.”

Does he not realize you’re his present? He seems to have the wrong idea about your visit. Just how many times has this poor guy been rejected? 

You reach across the table and put one hand on his arm. “We can easily grant your wish,” you say. “In fact, that’s what I’m here for.”

He freezes, staring at you. His stunned eyes shift down to your hand, then back to your face. “You… want to spend time with me?”

“I’d love to!”

He still seems to be in shock. “Are you sure?”

You reach into the pocket if your dress and pull out a folded paper. You smooth it out on the table and slide it over to him. It’s his wanted poster. 

He blanches when he sees it, but before he can say anything, you blurt out, “I’m a fan of yours!”

“Huh?”

Now it’s your turn to blush again. “I mentioned before that all of us here are fans of the Straw Hat pirates, but we each have our favorites. You happen to be mine.”

He’s rapidly turning red. “Really?”

You nod. “I even keep your wanted poster in my pocket at all times.”

He glances at the poster. “But it’s such an unflattering picture of me…”

“You look fun! You look like someone I’d like to hang out with. And yes, you’re way more handsome in person.”

If this were a cartoon, steam would be shooting out of his ears. He almost seems to melt into his chair. “You think I’m handsome?!”

“Of course! I was so excited to meet you, so I happily volunteered to grant your wish!”

He has tears in his eyes as he takes both your hands in his across the table. “This place really is like a dream!”

And so the two of you laugh and talk and enjoy more tea for the next hour. He tells you funny stories about their travels and you tell him about some of the craziest wishes you’ve received. 

At some point, perhaps growing bold from the friendly atmosphere, you say, “To be honest, I wondered if maybe ‘spend time with you’ was code for something else.”

He seems genuinely confused, which is adorable. “Something else?”

You lean forward, subtly showing off your cleavage. “Something more… intimate.”

It seems like a shiver runs through his body, but then he composes himself and says, “I didn’t want anyone to feel obligated to do that.”

“Oh, that’s a shame,” you say, looking as disappointed as you can, “because I was hoping it was code.”

His mouth falls open, the cigarette slipping from his lips. You can almost see hearts in his eyes. He seems to be trying to form words for a reply, but failing. 

You stand up and walk around the table to be closer to him. “I’m your present tonight, so you can do whatever you want with me.”

He swallows, looking up at you as if you’re a goddess that has come down to him from heaven. “Whatever I want?”

“Anything.”

His eyes dart about the room, as if he’s worried this might be some prank and someone else is waiting to rush out and tell him so. After a moment, he looks back at you. “Can I k-kiss you?”

You nod. “I’d like that.”

He stands up from the chair and steps right up to you. He slowly places his hands on your shoulders. So gentle! He’s treating you like a delicate little creature that will flee if he’s not careful. 

As he leans down, his eyes flutter closed, and you can see the blush across his cheeks. You feel the tips of his golden hair first, then his lips softly press against yours. It’s a chaste kiss, his hands lightly trembling on your shoulders. 

You’ve heard so many conflicting rumors about him. Some say he’s a totally lecherous horndog who fucks anything that moves. Others say he’s a sophisticated gentleman who respects women. Still others say he’s a pathetic virgin who can’t get laid to save his life. You’re beginning to suspect the truth is some strange mix of all three. 

You reach up and put your arms around his neck, pulling him into a deeper kiss. His tongue finally slips into your mouth, and he tastes like cigarettes and the tea you’ve both been drinking. 

When the kiss breaks, he looks positively lovestruck. But his arms are around your waist, holding you closer to him. You can feel the bulge in his pants, and you lightly grind yourself against it. “What else would you like to do?” you ask playfully. 

“Lady’s choice,” he says, the smooth gentleman peeking out again. “I’d love to know what youwant to do.”

You grin mischievously at him and say, “Sit down and I’ll show you.”

He moves back to sit in the chair so fast, your eyes could barely follow him. You giggle at his eagerness as he stares at you. You take a moment to pull up the edge of your red dress on one side, up to your hip. It’s enough to show him you’re not wearing panties without revealing the whole present. 

His eyes bulge, and you’re guessing something else is bulging even more now. You prance over and then lower yourself to your knees before reaching out and unbuckling his belt. You hear him breathe in through his teeth, and you look up to see his chest rising and falling rapidly with his breaths. You smile as you open his pants and slide one hand in, using it to pull out the prize you’ve been seeking. 

He’s bigger than you expected, and elegantly shaped. It’s such a nice cock, such a waste that it’s been neglected for so long. You can fix that. 

Your hand wraps around it and you slide it up and down the shaft. You can hear him breathing heavily as he watches, stunned. When you lean forward and give the tip a little lick, his hands suddenly grip the arm rests of the chair. You can hear the wood creaking under the force. 

Smiling to yourself over the fact that you can reduce a powerful, famous pirate to this state with one lick, you wrap your lips around him and take his twitching cock into your mouth. 

He groans, his head falling back and his eyes closing again as you begin bobbing your head back and forth, your lips gliding along his length. Your tongue swirls his tip, your throat tightens around him when he’s deep enough, and his panting above you makes such sweet music in your ears. 

Finally he places his hand on your shoulder and says in a strained voice, “I’m… I’m about to…”

You pull back and grin. “Please cum in my mouth.” Then your lips are around him again, sucking lightly and lapping at his tip. 

He looks torn between desire and being a gentleman, but desire wins out. With a moan he releases his load onto your tongue, and you drink it down eagerly. 

After a moment, you stand up, licking your lips. You stand nearby while his breathing slows to a normal pace. Then he looks at you. “That was incredible… you’re an angel!”

You laugh and take one of his hands, placing it atop your head as you lean toward him. “You’re supposed to pat my head and call me a good girl.”

His face turns scarlet, but he does as you wish, lightly patting your head and saying, “Such a good girl!”

You giggle at that, then look down between his legs. He’s beginning to get hard again, which is exactly what you’re waiting for. 

“So? What would you like me to do next?” you ask. 

He looks a little shy and awkward as he says, “Can we… have sex?”

You reach down and pull your dress up, all the way to your waist this time, giving him an eye full. His cock instantly becomes fully hard, his eyes seeming to turn to hearts again. “I thought you’d never ask,” you tell him as you step closer and straddle his lap, letting his lovely cock rest against your slickened pussy. That alone makes his entire body quiver. 

When you rise up and position his tip at your entrance, then sink down onto him, a gasp escapes him. His arms wrap around your body, holding you firmly but gently. You have to wiggle a bit to get free enough to begin riding him, your hips swiveling. 

Sanji groans as his own hips buck from the chair, pushing deeper inside you. Then he pauses, a worried expression on his face, and says, “I’m sorry! Did I hurt you?”

You smile, pushing your own body down to take him even deeper. “It feels good when you go deep,” you say, and his breath hitches, his eyes widening before he starts fucking up into you, slowly and deeply. One of his hands is on your waist now, the other buried in your hair. 

As you grind down onto him, his taut skin rubs against your clit, making your own breaths shallow and quick. His tip hits your cervix, and a shudder ripples through you. When you moan out his name, his cock throbs inside you, making you arch your back in pleasure. When you do, he buries his face in your chest, his tongue peeking out to lap at one pert nipple. 

He raises his face to look you in the eyes. “I’m in love with you!” he exclaims, his hands tightening their grip on you slightly. 

You smile, but don’t reply. Men always say that while they’re inside a woman, but you have no expectations. In a few days Sanji will sail away from here and you’ll never hear from him again. But you’ll treasure these memories of being with him for the rest of your life. 

He feels so good inside you, your clit is practically pulsing. He kisses you again, so sweetly. It’s a romantic kiss, the kind shared by people in love, and his hand slides down from your hair to rest softly on your neck. 

It’s all enough to push you over the edge, and you cum while still riding him, your body trembling in his arms. 

Watching you cum seems to push him to climax as well, and he suddenly pulls you tightly against him as he shoots his load into your core. 

The two of you remain intertwined for a while, both of you breathing hard, then his arms loosen around you and you slide off him, your legs partially numb. 

“I’m all yours while you’re on Christmas Island,” you say as you pull your dress back down. “Just call for me whenever you want.”

He looks at you for a long moment, then says, “Why don’t you come with us?”

You freeze. “What?”

He stands up and buttons his pants, then pulls out a fresh cigarette. “I can talk to Luffy. He’s pretty easy going about these things. You could join our crew and sail around with us. We get into a lot of dangerous situations, but we always pull through, and I can protect you.”’

You, joining the Straw Hat pirates? You’ve never even considered something like that before. But it sounds like a dream. You smile broadly at him. “I’d love that!”

He smiles back. “It really is Christmas every day here. I got more than I could even hope for!”

[daisymbin]

cookies & sprinklers - joshua hong

check out my masterlist! // shua's m.list

joshua punched in the passcode to seungkwan and jeonghan’s shared apartment, the beep echoing in the quiet hallway. he pushed the door open and stepped aside to let you in, a small smile tugging at his lips.

“it’s so like them to be late to their own plans,” he remarked as the lock clicked behind him.

you laughed, toeing off your shoes. “i feel like they secretly do it on purpose. but doesn’t it feel kind of wrong to just… be here without them?”

“they told us to come in,” joshua replied, calm as ever. “besides, if we waited outside, seungkwan would just call us irresponsible for standing around like we don’t know how to open a door.”

you tilted your head, smirking. “true. but it’s so quiet. what are we supposed to do?”

“we could just sit and wait like normal people,” he suggested, raising an eyebrow. “or maybe put on a movie?”

you snapped your fingers, a sudden idea sparking. “what if i baked something? as a surprise for them. seungkwan would love it.”

joshua looked skeptical, leaning against the counter with his arms crossed. “in their kitchen? are you sure that’s a good idea? jeonghan’s super particular about his stuff.”

“it’ll be fine,” you waved him off, already heading to the kitchen. “i’ll make cookies. simple, sweet, and impossible to mess up.”

joshua followed reluctantly. “just don’t tell jeonghan i let you do this.”

you threw yourself into baking with enthusiasm, pulling out ingredients and chatting away. everything was fine—until it wasn’t. halfway through, a puff of flour exploded from the mixer, enveloping you and joshua in a cloud of white dust.

“okay,” he said, coughing. “not a great start, but we’re fine.”

“it’s under control!” you insisted, though your voice wavered.

then, in a moment of carelessness, the dish towel left too close to the stovetop caught fire.

“joshua!” you shrieked, pointing at the growing flames.

he didn’t miss a beat, grabbing a pitcher of water and dousing the flames in one swift motion. but before relief could set in, the apartment’s sprinklers activated, drenching you, joshua, and the entire kitchen.

“oh no,” you whispered, water dripping from your hair. “they’re going to kill us. we need to clean this all up now.” panic overtaking you.

the sound of the front door unlocking made you freeze.

“we’re here!” jeonghan’s voice called, cheerful as ever. his footsteps faltered as he entered. “what... happened?”

seungkwan followed, his expression turning from confusion to outrage in record time. “WHAT DID YOU DO TO MY KITCHEN?”

joshua quickly stepped forward, shielding you from their wrath. “it was me,” he said calmly, raising his hands. “i tried baking.”

jeonghan’s jaw dropped, his eyes narrowing dangerously. “you? you thought baking in my kitchen was a good idea?”

“you don’t even bake!” seungkwan screeched, waving his arms at the chaos. “my oven! my beautiful, perfect oven! she was pristine until you destroyed her!”

“i’ll clean it up,” joshua said, unflappable. “and i’ll replace anything that’s damaged. just... don’t be too mad.”

jeonghan crossed his arms, glaring. “oh, we’re mad. you’re never hearing the end of this.”

“i’m putting it in the group chat,” seungkwan added with a vindictive grin. “everyone’s going to know.”

“even jihoon?” joshua asked, his voice betraying a hint of concern.

jeonghan smirked. “especially jihoon.”

as they continued their tirade, jeonghan suddenly squinted at you. “wait. why are you so quiet?”

“yeah,” seungkwan agreed, his eyes narrowing. “you look guilty.”

you froze. “me? i —”

jeonghan pointed dramatically. “you're hiding something.”

“totally guilty,” seungkwan agreed. “spit it out.”

joshua stepped between you and their accusatory stares. “leave her out of this. it was all me.”

jeonghan blinked, momentarily thrown by the firmness in his voice. seungkwan hesitated, then huffed. “fine. but you owe us. big time.”

as they stomped off to inspect the damage in their closets, joshua turned to you with a soft smile. “don’t worry. they’ll forget about it in a week. maybe.”

you looked at him, water still dripping from his hair. “you really didn’t have to take the blame.”

“of course i did,” he said easily, his tone warm. “it’s my job to protect you.”

despite the chaos, a grin tugged at your lips. “thank you.”

he shrugged, the corner of his mouth lifting in that signature, gentle smile. “just don’t try to bake in anyone else’s kitchen, okay? especially not mingyu's or seungcheol's.”

[itwdoris]

tw; dry humping, piss.

★

"megumi–" you moaned against his mouth, your eyebrows arched in pleasure as you pulled away just a little, licking your lips to break up the line of saliva that bound the two of you. even so, the black-haired man's hands continued to hold you tightly on his lap, pinning you against him, throwing his head back and pushing his hips higher.

you should have gone to his bed a while ago, but is just that his house was empty and you were very horny on that sofa. so many empty bottles near there.

with feverish bodies rubbing against each other, hands grabbing the clothes you were wearing to relieve the tension, chests moving up and down so fast, you two were a red panting mess. your panties dripping, now almost completely wet with your juices, leaving a big wet spot in the middle of his pants, he could just slip inside, you throb, crying for more and more attention, your clit in need of more of that delicious friction.

megumi isn't that far away from you, with his cock painfully hard and needy inside his pants being pressed and rubbed against you, spurting pre-cum incessantly, also staining his and your pants, balls full and ready to fill you all up, he needs it so bad. everything so hot, he keeps pushing against your covered pussy, grabbing your waist, looking at you with his eyes almost closed of pleasure.

you hold his hair, whimpering against his lips, your full bladder warning you again. "gumi... need to pee." and all you can do is moan when he pushes against you harder, kissing you, taking his hand down a path to your pussy, fingers caressing your folds. "just a little longer..." he says, with a slurred voice. "hold it for me, love..."

you swallow, nodding and continuing to rub your pussy against his cock, squeezing to try and hold on, so hard. his hand comes up again, moving to your face and holding it to caress your face, pulling you to a kiss again. he sighs against your mouth, feeling so close, taking his hands to your hard nipples, squeezing them just for pleasure, listening and watching you squirm, he pulls away just to suck them, even over your clothes.

you look so pretty, squeezing his hair while humping his cock faster and faster, harder, he could almost feel your hole clenching, needy, as much as him. his eyes simply can't stop staring at you, the veins in his cock can't stop pulsating, his eyebrows are furrowed, so close!

but you can't do it anymore, whimpering loudly as you feel your legs shaking and your whole body vibrating, piss finally gushing out of your pussy, messing everything, him, the clothes, the sofa, but it's so good that your brain can't think, feeling his cock rubbing against you so sensitive now. but the sight and all is enough to make megumi cum, shooting thick white strands of cum into his own pants, moaning so painfully and pleasurably, he squeezes and pulls you close again, feeling you wetting him.

and you just bite your lip to keep from moaning so loudly when he starts pissing too, faces so close you can feel him all red, his smirk against your mouth. all so wet, so hot, so good, damn, toji is going to kill you two when he gets home.

but focus on now, megumi is pissing so much with you, soaking everything, and you keep rubbing each other.

tsc, look at that messy.

i worked hard on this one okay, think megumi had his justice. btw i'll post the ask later and put all the works linked to it! thanks to tigeri anon <3 hope you guys like this one too! <3

[planetpedri]

Rubberband 𖦹 Pau Cubarsí

summary. he was supposed to be there for you until the end, but he wasn’t. and now, all you had left was a flimsy rubber band that you couldn’t let go of.

word count. 965+

disclaimers. angst.. soz

bea speaks! back on my tate mcrae grind and remembered how impactful this song was so i felt like torturing everyone!! also! new layout in case u guys didn’t recognize me or wtv..

It wasn’t supposed to be this hard to let him go. You’d promised yourself it wouldn’t be. You promised it every time your fingers hovered over his every time your heart ached for a voice you have memorized—burned into your skull.

It’s been weeks since Pau left. Since he walked away. Since you agreed to end it before it turned toxic. “It’s for the best,” he’d said, his voice steady, the resolve in his eyes like a wall of bricks you couldn’t climb. And you’d nodded, swallowing the lump growing in your throat, pretending you were okay, that you didn’t care.

But you did, you do.

Even now, you still wear the bracelet he’d given you—the one he tied around your wrist before his first match of the season, telling you, “it’s for good luck.” A small, toothy grin adorning his face.

It was a rubber band, plain and unimpressive, but a piece of him nonetheless. You’d tried to take it off on many occasions, telling yourself it was just an elastic, but the second you felt the exposed skin and the emptiness it left, you couldn’t bear it.

You’ve become stuck in this in-between. Snapping the band against your wrist every time you think of him, as if the sting could replace the ache caused by the gaping hole in your chest.

Every memory of his laughter, his hands brushing yours, the way he looked at you when he thought you weren’t watching.. it all comes back to you, relentless like an endless cycle of torture.

You see him everywhere. On your TV screen, on social media, on posters spread around Barcelona. In the smiles of strangers that reminded you of his. You can’t escape him, but you cannot reach out to him. What would you even say? “I miss you” “I think we made a mistake”? That just simply wouldn’t do. That would unravel everything you’d tried so desperately to keep in tact.

And yet, every time the band snaps, you wonder if he feels it too. If somewhere between the matches and the press conferences, he’s thinking about you. About the way your laugh sounded, of your loving gaze. How one of the reporters eyes crinkled the way yours did when you smiled at him.

You wonder if you’d ever be ready to let go. Probably not, but you could hope. But for now, the rubber band stays on your wrist—a fragile connection to the boy you were trying to forget, to find out how to stop loving him.

Staring into the soft glow of your TV screen, the show you were watching long since forgotten. Your mind reels. Snapping the band against the flesh of your wrist, the memory starts before you can stop it.

“Why a rubber band?” You asked, laughing as you hold up your wrist to examine it.

Pau grins widely, shrugging as he tugged his jersey over his head. “Because it’s simple. And they don’t break easily.” He wriggled his eyebrows as he looked down at you, “kind of like us.”

You’d rolled your eyes, but your heart felt impossibly fuller. He was always so effortless with his words that seemed to come from a deeper part of himself he rarely shared.

Now, as the silence stretches out around you—the TV droned out of your thoughts, the warmth of that moment felt so far away.

You begin rubbing at your wrists absentmindedly, the band rubbing against your skin that pushed another memory forward.

“Do you think you’ll ever get tired of this?” You’d asked one night while lying on his couch, your head on his chest, soothed by the sound of his even heartbeat.

His hand paused in your hair, his voice soft but certain. “Of what? Football?”

“No.” You tilted your head up, chin resting against his chest, meeting his gaze. “Me.”

He’d blinked at you, as if the thought of that was preposterous. “Never.” He said, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead. “I love you, you know that, right?”

The sharp sting against your wrist pulled you back from the memory. You could laugh. The word—Love—feels like some sort of cruel joke now. If he loved you, why did he leave you like it was easy?

The last words you two had spoken to each other, replays in your mind. Vivid, as if it’s only happened yesterday.

“You deserve someone who is there for you, always. Not just when their schedule allows it.” His voice was low, head turned to the side as he avoided your eyes.

You’d reached for him anyways, your fingers brushing his. “I don’t care about that, Pau. I love you.” You pleaded, desperate and breaking.

But he’d stepped back, shaking his head. “It’s not fair to you or us. I can’t give you what you need right now.” You’d nodded, pretending like you understood as if it didn’t feel like someone had physically reached into her chest and cut her heart with dull scissors.

Now you sat here, reliving memories that felt more like ghosts of your former self. Eyes fluttering down to the band, you tug it off your wrist and flip it over in your plam—examining it with a dozen heavy emotions flooding you.

You want to scream and cry, to throw it across the room and break something. You don’t, though. You still felt a stupid, childish hope.

Hope that one day, he’ll look back and regret it all. That he’ll remember the tender moments, the inside jokes, the way you made him laugh when nobody else could. That maybe he will find his way back to you.

So, instead, you slowly slide it past your fingers and knuckles, down to your wrist where it sat against purple tinted skin.

likes, comments, and reblog’s are all appreciated. lmk if you’d like to be tagged in future pau posts.

ᝰ.ᐟ tags @halfwayhearted @lechrts @ar4ujos @sakashq @h4vertzz @joaoflms @spidybaby @unx100to @jajajhaahaha @n0vazsq @ilovebarcaaa @f1lover55

[azrielslightintheshadows]

Hi!!! Could you possibly do a fluffy Rhys x reader where reader isn’t really into pda but the second her and Rhys are behind closed doors she becomes physically affectionate with him? She will show affection publicly every now and then but likes to keep it private for the most part.

Touch starved

Rhysand x f!Reader

Masterlist

Warnings; none, maybe a bit suggestive?

Hello I hope you enjoy the way i wrote your request

Rhysand always enjoyed showing off, it didn’t matter where he was, he didn’t care about the occasion meaning that he would steal the spotlight even at someone’s wedding. So, when he found his mate, he wanted to show her off to the entire world. He also wanted to show everyone that she belonged to him. Imagine the shock when he realized that you don’t like to show your affection in public. He was devastated at first but after the first time you spent time in public for more than a few hours he realized how good it felt when you were alone, how more affectionate you became because you were touch starved. Like today… Nesta decided to celebrate her birthday at a tavern which was kind of odd, but everyone agreed since you wanted to make the day about her and only her. You were sitting next to Rhysand as you talked with Cassian and Mor. Your knee touching your mate’s under the table being the only action of love for the time being. Rhysand felt irritated and he could feel your desperation to touch him through the bond but being the stubborn female you were he knew that you wouldn’t budge. It had been more than 15 hours since the last time you two were alone and your body was literally shaking with need, your shy nature though dreaded the idea of touching your dashing mate.

“Y/n are you listening?” Cassian asked with a worried look.

Your eyes focused back on him, and you shook your head trying to put your thoughts in order. “Yeah… no… sorry I’m just tired” you sighed.

“Honey, you don’t look good maybe you should head home” Mor suggested softly and caressed your upper arm.

Rhys immediately turned to you with furrowed eyebrows “Are you okay love?”

“I think we should go home” you replied and glanced at Nesta who was having the time of her life with her sisters. “I think she will be okay”.

Rhys smiled and being the amazing mate that he is he stood up and grabbed your hand leading you outside while also saying quick goodbyes to his friends.

The moment you stepped into your shared house you sighed in delight and ran to your room to get changed.

“So are you really tired or you couldn’t resist me anymore?” Rhys smirked when he walked into the room making you wonder if he somehow planted the need in your head.

You changed into your nightgown and glanced at him. “Just tired” you shrugged and slipped in your bed.

Rhys stopped undressing and looked at you with a cocked eyebrow making you giggle.

“You’re such a bad liar” he gave you his feline smile and crawled on the bed.

“Come here” you opened your arms and legs for him to lie on top of you. When he made himself comfortable between your legs with his head resting on your chest you smiled and started caressing his hair with one hand and his bare back with the other.

He hummed and relaxed on top of you carefully though so he wouldn’t crush you.

After a while you lowered yourself and planted kisses on top of his head making him moan and tighten his arms around your middle. His scent clouded your senses, the scent of smoke and whiskey with just a small hint of something sweet made you inhale sharply while your hand trembled on top of his velvety skin.

“Feels so nice” he murmured, and you smiled.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Morning came and you woke up alone stretching over his side of the bed trying to find some of his familiar warmth. After a few minutes you huffed because it wasn’t enough and left the room in search for your mate. You tiptoed into his office where he was seated on his big chair, legs spread wide as he read a book.

“There you are” you said softly and approached him. He gave you a sweet smile and you took a seat on his lap.

“Hi” you murmured and rubbed your cheek on the base of his neck touching your cold nose on his warm and soft skin earning a chuckle from him.

“Missed me?” He asked and started caressing your hair with one hand while the other held the book.

“You know I can’t stay away from you” you smiled and wrapped your hands around his torso. “Wish I could stay here all day”

You felt his chest moving sharply as he let out a small laugh “then that’s what we’ll do” he replied and got comfortable.

That’s how you spent your day, on his lap prepping small kisses on his neck and chest while he read his book with a sweet smile on his face

@littlest-w01f , @zara-aliza08

[taojjang]

𐙚 a white christmas ᯓ h.sh.ᐟ

⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ advent calendar, day nineteen! pairing: bf!seunghan x reader, genre: fluff! warnings: seunghan is so cute u might sob

synopsis: seunghan was absolutely crushed when you told him you’d never experienced a snowy christmas. though snow wasn’t in the forecast, you woke up in a winter wonderland.

　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　⋆ ˚ ۪ ⋆ ୨୧

"you've gotta be kidding me!" seunghan shouted.

you flinched from seunghan's sudden shift in volume.

"you've never experienced a white christmas?" seunghan repeated, staring at you with wide eyes and raised eyebrows. you nodded and looked out the window. "i mean, i've been around snow of course. i've just never seen it snow on christmas." seunghan's mouth was left wide open. snowy christmases were a core memory of his childhood; it would be impossible to forget waking up to white flurries falling out the window before opening the gifts beneath the tree. to hear that your childhood lacked such an endearing memory tugged at his heart.

"that's so unfair :( white christmases are the best! it makes christmas so much better!" seunghan whined. you laughed and brushed his hair away from his face. "it's fine! i can experience it through movies or something. it's not a big deal," you reassured as seunghan was seemingly about to cry.

though you brushed it off as trivial, seunghan felt like he'd just cracked the code as to why you'd been a bit gloomy these days. how could anyone have a good christmas without snow?

the next few days, seunghan would constantly check the weather forecast in search of even a 1% chance of snowfall. the moment he woke up, he'd pick up his phone and check the weather app, then mumble a defeated "no snow today..."

as christmas neared closer, seunghan began losing all hope of a snowy christmas. but as he was shopping for your christmas gifts, his eyes landed on a can of artificial snow.

his eyes lit up with a thought popping into his mind.

why don't i make a white christmas?

★

the night before christmas, you spent longer than usual in the bathroom getting ready for bed. seunghan had pampered you with a rose-petal bath and a glass of champagne. you winded down for the night feeling refreshed and excited for the next morning. as you tucked yourself into bed thinking about how exciting tomorrow will be, you felt seunghan's arms wrap around your waist. he pulled your body backward until your back pressed against his chest. pressing a kiss against your temple, seunghan asked with his voice dripping in affection, "did you have a good day today, angel?" snuggling yourself further into his hug, you nodded and closed your eyes. "of course i did, love." tightening his grip on you, he pulled the blanket over your bodies. he smiled, "i'm glad you did, are you excited for tomorrow?" his embrace was pushing you further and further into tranquility. you weakly mumbled, "so excited..." seunghan laughed feeling your body grow heavier against him. brushing your hair behind your ear, he kissed the top of your head and closed his eyes. seunghan sleepily cooed, "goodnight, angel. i hope you're ready for tomorrow morning~" not thinking much of this, you returned his kiss and drifted off into sleep not long after.

but after falling asleep to the pure silence between you and seunghan, you woke up to a terrible static noise ringing through the room. wondering what could be making so much noise this early in the morning, you turned around to face the airy noise. to your surprise, seunghan was standing with his back facing you, seemingly doing something in front of the desk. "seunghan..?" you called with a groggy voice, rubbing your eyes. turning to you with a panicked expression, seunghan apologized with sad eyes. "oh, i'm sorry baby, i didn't mean to be so loud." he put a can down onto the desk and walked over to you. he laid you back down on the bed, stroking your hair. "i'm sorry for waking you, angel. go back to sleep, it's too early." you wanted to listen to him, but you couldn't help but notice a tiny snow-covered christmas tree on your desk which wasn't there last night. still delirious, you ask pointing behind him, "baby, what's that?" seunghan stood ahead of you to block your vision and shook his head. "nothing, y/n, go back to sleep." his dismissal only piqued your curiosity, so you sat up and looked around the room. your mouth went agape as your eyes scanned the snowy scape inside of your room.

the floor was covered in white confetti and there was a small christmas tree sitting on your desk. "ah, i told you to go back to sleep! i'm not even done yet!" seunghan whined, looking down at you with a pout. you smiled and cupped his face in your hands before leaving an affectionate kiss on his lips. "no baby, it's already perfect! this was all for me?" seunghan nodded and wiped the pout off of his face. "i made a white christmas just for you!" he cheered, searching for any satisfaction in your eyes. you excitedly stood up and gave seunghan the tightest hug possible, cheering with an overwhelmingly warm heart, "thank you, baby! you're the cutest :(" his spirits recovering from the excitement in your voice, he pulled away from your hug and looked down at you with pure joy glistening in his eyes and urged, "hurry and freshen up! i need to show you the rest of the house!"

as you exited the bedroom, you were shocked to see the rest of your house turned into a snowy forest. laughing in amusement, you shouted "seunghan, this is so cute! you did such a good job!" seunghan couldn't contain his pride hearing your praises. he wouldn't stop giggling as he stood beside you while you brushed your teeth.

once you were finished freshening up, you explored the rest of the house. each room had white confetti everywhere and sparkly white streamers hanging from the ceiling. but the living room was decorated extra prettily.

entering the living room was like entering a fairytale. the floor was covered in pretty white petals, the ceiling had paper snowflakes hanging from it, the walls had shiny star decals sticking onto them, and the christmas tree was covered in fake snow with crystal icicles hanging from each branch. you never imagined your own home could look so breathtaking.

nor could you ever imagine your love for seunghan to feel so overwhelming.

you turned to seunghan with tears in your eyes as you took him into your arms, wrapping yourself around his chest. speaking through giggles, you said, "it's so beautiful! you did an amazing job, hannie!" seunghan laughed and ran his hands over your back. "thank you, angel! don't worry about the mess, i'll clean it all up once the holidays are over." you shook your head and rested it on his shoulder, whining in disapproval, "no! i could keep it like this forever!" seunghan chuckled and kissed the top of your head. "alright then, let's keep it this way." you cheered and hugged seunghan tighter, nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck. "thank you, hannie. i love you so much more than i could ever put into words," you whispered tenderly, running your hand over the soft fabric of his hoodie. seunghan looked down at you with pure affection in his doting eyes.

"anything for my angel. merry christmas, y/n."

　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　⋆ ˚ ۪ ⋆ ୨୧

⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ tag list! (ask or comment to be added!)

@endtostartbreathin @gacktsa @hanninova @ramyeonzprincess @taroddori

[scribbly-artist]

Gently, Please

Summary: Jayce is at a breaking point now that he’s on the council, he wasn’t expecting all of this responsibility put onto him. He goes to the place (and the person) that puts him most at ease.

Author’s Notes: For some reason I struggled with this one and I wasn’t really sure why. I feel like they’re a bit OOC, but you guys can judge that or let me know if I’m overthinking it. 🤔 I feel like I write a lot of angst/comfort tickles, someone should tell me to write some sass with Jayce and Viktor one day, I feel like it’d be fun.

Thanks to the anon for giving me this prompt! I hope you like it. :)

Words: ~1,300 | AO3 Link

Jayce couldn't take much more. 

He missed being in the lab with his partner. Being in the council was fine, he supposed. It gave him a lot of opportunities to help with their Hextech research outside of the lab. Getting investors and funding really helped. 

But honestly? He'd rather be in the lab. 

That's how he always felt - he wasn't used to telling others what to do, wasn't used to all this responsibility. He needed a break, even for an afternoon. 

And that's what he intended on doing as he made his way to the lab - his second home - pushing the doors open upon entry.

Viktor was working away - as usual, he practically lived here - his back turned to Jayce. As Jayce approached, he could see Viktor was messing with… some sort of new device at the workbench. 

The sound of Jayce’s footsteps alerted Viktor, resulting in him swivelling around in his chair, pushing his goggles up to his forehead. 

“Hello, stranger,” he commented, looking Jayce up and down. “I haven't seen you in a while - mm, how are things with the council?”

Jayce’s expression changed to something troubled. “It's a lot to take in. I'm not used to all of this. If I'm being honest, I'd rather be here.”

“Would you be comfortable talking about it?” Viktor enquired, using his cane to lift himself off his seat, and then lifting himself to sit up on the workbench, waving a hand to offer Jayce his seat. 

Jayce sat down, the chair bouncing a little as he lowered his weight on it. 

“I didn’t ask to be on the council. I know there’s a lot of benefits to it. For our research, for me, for you. This is all new to me, though.” Jayce leaned over, laying his head down on Viktor’s lap, the other placing a loving hand gently on his head. “I’m a symbol - an icon now. I’m the Man of Progress, making Piltover’s future brighter. But it’s a lot of responsibility I didn’t ask for.” Jayce let out a sigh as he finished speaking.

“It’s a lot to take on, that’s why I try to not be in the public eye,” Viktor spoke, carding his fingers through Jayce’s hair. Viktor knew it soothed him in times of heavy stress. “I apologise for that. Perhaps if I did, you wouldn’t be bearing this feeling all alone.”

“No, Vik, it’s fine. I wouldn’t want you to feel uncomfortable having so many eyes on you,” Jayce moved one of his hands to rest on Viktor’s knee. “I just have to bear it. For us, for our work. For our Hextech dream.”

“I’m always in the lab if you need someone to discuss this with, Jayce. All you need to do is ask, and I will always assist you when you need it.”

“I’m grateful you’re on my side, Viktor.” Letting out a relieved sigh, Jayce closed his eyes. “It’s good to get things off my chest. Though, it didn’t make me feel as good as I thought it would.”

“Mm, Is there anything I can do to make it better perhaps?” Asked Viktor, his fingers tangled in Jayce’s hair.

Jayce thought for a moment. Well, he noticed there was always something Viktor would do for Jayce whenever he was stressed out. He always struggled to find the words to ask, though… 

“Can you do… that thing?” Asked Jayce, craning his head so he could look up at Viktor.

Viktor raised a questioning eyebrow. “That ‘thing’?”

“Yeah, you know, that thing you always do whenever I'm stressed out of my mind… or when I’m annoying you too much.”

Viktor tilted his head in confusion at first. He had to flip through his memory for this one. 

Whenever Jayce was being stubborn or particularly irritable, mainly when Jayce was running low on sleep, Viktor had a few tricks up his sleeve to try to make Jayce relax. Sometimes, he had to pull out the big guns… ah, he remembered. 

Jayce wanted Viktor to tickle him. He realised Jayce had the most roundabout way of asking for it, though…

“Ehh, you can use your words, you know.” Viktor had to tease Jayce just a little with a chuckle. 

Jayce moved his hand to cover his eyes with the back of it, his cheeks a little red from the conversation. “It's embarrassing… it makes me feel weak. But I never seem to mind whenever you do it.”

Viktor’s hand trailed from Jayce’s head to the nape of his partner’s neck, scribbling his fingers against the skin. “Well, how could I decline?”

Jayce was already starting to crack up from the small simple touch alone. “Ahaha, can you just– hehehe, be gentle?”

Viktor scoffed at that. “Aren’t I always?”

“Yeheheah, but extra gentle thihihis time.” Was Jayce’s giggly request.

“Whatever you say.” Gently pushing Jayce’s head so Viktor could slide off the bench, he propped his cane off to the side so he could use both hands. He reached forward, gently wiggling his fingers against Jayce’s sides.

Jayce was already giggling, even more so now. He reached out and latched his hands on Viktor’s wrists, but made no attempt to move his hands away. In fact, it was to keep Viktor’s hands in place. Viktor’s hands moved up to gently squeeze at Jayce’s ribs, causing Jayce to throw his head back and laugh.

“You know… mhm, whenever you want this, you can just say the word. You don’t have to bug me while I’m trying to concentrate. And you don’t have to beat around the bush when you’re upset, you understand? Even without saying it directly, I can always tell when you’re in a mood… for this.” Viktor wanted to know Jayce was safe to tell him these things.

Jayce nodded his head in reply, scrunching up his nose when Viktor hit a particularly sensitive rib. Viktor always liked to watch his face change whenever he tickled him. He looked different with a carefree smile stretched across his face.

Viktor started to slow down, figuring that Jayce had had enough. He pulled his hands away, placing them on his hips instead. “How was that? Did it make you feel better?”

Jayce was slowly catching his breath, even gently tickling took his breath away. “Yehehes, thank you, V…” he gazed up at Viktor with a smile, getting up from the chair. 

“It’s definitely a strange thing to ask to make yourself feel better… but it makes sense when it’s you, somehow. Very odd, but endearing.” Viktor gently teased and gave a small smile.

Jayce’s heart nearly leapt out of his chest at Viktor’s comments, his face growing more beet red. “Ahem, anyway… before anyone starts looking for me, why don’t I help you out for a while? Knowing Mel, she’ll start wondering where I am.”

“Of course, I’d be pleased. You haven’t been in the lab for quite a while now. I appreciate the assistance, and the company.”

They both wandered over to the blackboard to discuss some new ideas for Hextech. They could be lab partners for a little while longer.

He really missed this.

[miya-cs]

I'm going to cut my hair - LH44

Fem!Reader with curly hair x Lewis Hamilton

Your hair stresses you out, but thank goodness Lewis knows the right way to calm you down again.

Warnings: none, like, just cute, I wrote this to comfort myself.

“SHIT!” You scream, frustrated.

Your curls fall over your shoulders, at least half of them. The other half is still pinned up on top, and a strand hangs like a dead weight in your hand.

“I hate this, seriously! EVERY TIME!”

You look in the mirror. One side is well defined, perfect curls showing off. It was so easy to leave them like that… but then comes the other side. You run the brush through it once, twice, three times, and the curls are still kind of shapeless, lifeless, colorless.

Curly hair sometimes has different textures. Which makes it difficult to define the curls. Sometimes a brush works, sometimes you even curl it with your fingers. Sometimes, however, it seems like nothing works.

Sometimes you cope well, but sometimes—like today—you’re in a terrible mood, have low self-esteem, and have zero patience to deal with him.

Lewis woke up from his sleep at your distant scream. He was half sitting, half lying on the couch, Roscoe on his lap enjoying the affection he was giving him before falling asleep. Just the pilot’s presence was comforting in itself.

It didn’t take a few minutes for you to emerge from the room, your curls spread out and voluminous, and your eyebrows furrowed.

“Lew, I’m going to get my hair cut.”

Lewis nods calmly as you continue talking.

“Girls on Pinterest make it look so easy, but my hair hates me, seriously! Lew, I untangled one side, and I went to untangle the other, and when I went back to the first one, it was already tangled again!”

Your hands move passionately as you continue to list countless reasons why you want to cut your hair.

“Honey,” he smiled, that smile on his lips, which made his cheeks high and made his eyes shine as if they were crowned with stars. The same smile that won you over so long ago, and that still managed to disarm you. “Come here. Let me finish for you.”

“No, Lew… you’re tired, I don’t want to bother you. It’s a lot of hair, babe.”

“Am I too old to handle defining my wife’s curls?” He arched his eyebrow. You crossed your arms, smiling.

“But you’re old, Lew.”

Your boyfriend rolled his eyes, and you laughed as you headed to the bedroom, returning excitedly to get your things.

For now, you had even forgotten about your stress. Lewis loved your hair. He loved being able to share your pain, your problems, your struggles and conflicts.

Lewis loved you.

Lock by lock, curl by curl, time passed as he combed, his fingers sliding through his hair carefully. The sensation of the cream was strange, but nothing that bothered the pilot too much.

“There you go, Honey,” he said after finishing your hair.

You didn’t even hear him, too excited as you cooed at Roscoe, who was on your lap, happily accepting the affection that was offered to him. Lewis smiled at the sight.

There was nothing better than being home.