#NOTHING BUT SWEET SYRUPY GOODNESS THAT I LOVE!!!!!!

[pinkkittysaw]

Fearless

Based on this request. Clive Rosfield x fem reader Established relationship, fluff 1,220 words

You’ve always been good at putting on a facade, holding your nerve in life or death situations – part of everyday life, really, since joining the Cursebreakers – but as you grow closer to your destination, it’s getting harder to make your legs comply. “Are you sure, Clive?” You slow in your walk, your voice soft, but he still hears.

Clive stops in his stride then, steps in front of you and places one hand on your shoulder and his other warm palm cups your face with a sympathetic smile. “I promise it’ll be fine. Have I ever led you astray before, my darling?”

“No, you haven’t… but I must confess I’m still nervous.”

He presses a kiss to your forehead in his reassuring way – he’s all about soft, sweet touches. “I’ll be with you the whole time, all right?”

You nod, though you know it’s not coming across as a confident one. He smiles, encouragingly, and moves his hand down from your cheek to tilt your chin upwards so he can kiss you chastely on the lips. It’s all too brief, a distraction perhaps, as he then wraps his arm around your shoulders, pulling you tight to his side and continues to lead you down the path into the clearing he’d scouted out for this particular excursion – free of fiends and blight. It would be a nice spot for a romantic picnic, you think… or literally anything else than what Clive has planned.

Once you’ve reached the centre, he slips his arm away and takes a step back, facing you with a look on his face that reminds you of how excited Torgal gets for one of his treats. “Ready, my lady?”

“As I’ll ever be.”

He holds his fingers up to his lips and lets out a long whistle. It’s almost like magic, really, with how quickly the silver white chocobo appears out of nowhere. She charges into the clearing with impressive speed and you quickly sidestep to stand behind Clive’s stature. The chocobo’s head is bowed down low, squawking, until she comes to an abrupt stop a few metres away from you both.

“Hello, Ambrosia.” Clive greets, rubbing her head softly as she bows it to him, now letting out soft, sweet kwehs. “How have you been, girl?”

For the majority of your life, you’ve been terrified of chocobos. It’s an understandable fear – as Clive had repeatedly reassured you upon discovery – considering your past.

You’d made it to your seventh Name Day before being discovered as a Bearer, quickly Branded and sold off to a noble in the countryside who made his gil through agriculture. The days were spent toiling in the fields - turning over the soil, planting seeds, harvesting - and the nights were spent sleeping in the chocobo stables. Unfortunately, your former master treated both his Branded and chocobos with the same amount of affection – forced to share the same dirty water trough and the same buckets full of food scraps.

There was some sort of unspoken bond between you and your fellow Bearers to share everything equally – favours repaid to one another in the field, throwing a couple more vegetables in their basket at the tally count to avoid a lashing. But chocobos have awful sharp claws to go along with their hungry stomachs.

You’re torn from your daydreaming by Clive saying your name, catching the tail-end of him introducing you. There was always a certain glint in his eye when he told you tales of growing up in Rosaria, especially involving Ambrosia. The young Rosfield had raised her from a chick, for Founder’s sake. She’d saved his life at Phoenix Gate, lost her eye in the process… so if there’s a chocobo to like, she’s definitely the one to like.

She draws up to her full height then, flapping her wings and your heart pounds – a flashback to a night where you very nearly lost your fingers to a sharp beak.

“Can you lie down for me?” Clive asks the bird, softly. Ambrosia folds her wings back to her sides, immediately lying down, tilting her head quizzically at her master. “Good girl.”

You remain standing behind the Fire Dominant, using him as a shield, but you know it won’t last much longer as he turns to you.

“Will you say hello?”

You take a breath – you’ve faced far scarier things, you know you have – a morbal, a couerl… Tarja’s wrath when you returned to the Hideaway exhausted and wounded.

“H-hello, Ambrosia.”

The chocobo kwehs loudly, thankfully staying settled on the ground. Clive slips an arm around your waist, squeezing your side.

“She likes you already, you know? I’ve told her a lot about you. She’s a very good listener.”

“Mm.”

“Would you like to touch her?”

“I…” Your hands are trembling at the thought.

“I would never force you, you know that, but you’re doing so well.” Clive grabs your hand, squeezing it. “We could do it together.”

“All right.” You’ve come this far after all, but there is a definite waiver in your voice.

“Ambrosia won’t peck you,” he laces his fingers through yours then. “But we’ll do it like this, so she’d only get me if she did. But you have my solemn vow that she won’t.”

You trust Clive with your very life after all, so you swallow – your throat incredibly dry – and nod. Clive grins, stepping behind you then, wrapping one arm around your stomach to pull you back into his chest. He begins to guide your intertwined hands up to the bird’s side, his thumb rubbing the back of your hand in reassurance the whole time as your fingers brush against her feathers.

She’s incredibly soft, is the first thing you notice. Different from the sharpness you’ve always associated with chocobos. Ambrosia swivels her head to watch, softly kwehing away.

“She’s beautiful, Clive.” Your fingers relax a little into a gentle stroke.

“As are you, my darling.” He murmurs in your ear, pressing a kiss against your temple as he does.

The two of you stand there a little while longer, continuing to stroke Clive’s loyal steed. Ambrosia tucks her head against her chest, seeming to nestle down for a nap. It’s incredibly sweet.

You don’t even notice when Clive moves his hand away, slyly – only realising when you feel his other arm wrap around your waist.

“I’m so proud. You truly continue to astonish me every day with how remarkable you are, and how lucky I am to bear witness to it.”

“No,” you pull your hand away cautiously, but continue to look at Ambrosia. “I’m not-“

He spins you round in his arms then – Ambrosia doesn’t even move, content in her slumber – and puts on a pout. “Beautiful and brave and I will not hear otherwise.”

You can’t refuse that particular face, even when he’s not being entirely serious, and caress his cheek, and stare into his stormy blue eyes. “I wouldn’t be able to do it without you - truly. I love you so much, Clive.”

He sinks into your touch. “I love you too, my darling.” He pulls you even closer, if it was possible, and embraces your lips passionately – your reward – teasing your bottom lip with his teeth. His kisses still leave you almost dizzy and he knows it.

“Now, how about a ride?”

--

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[screampied]

𝜗𝜚 CHECKED THE RACK ?!

☆ sum. bóob obsessed jjk men who just can keep their hands off of you, their sweet sweet wife. toji, choso, gojo, geto, nanami.

warnings 𝜗𝜚 . fem! reader, wife reader, feral handsy men, bóob fondling, unprotected, cowgirl, dry humping, praise, dirty talk, lactátion fantasizes, brief face-fucking, bréeding mentions, implied multiple rounds, overstim, petnames.

☆ SATORU GOJO.

“god, really missed my girls,” satoru huffs, sucking in a single sharp breath as he buries his face right between your breasts.

you gasp, feeling him lick a single long stripe down the sloping valley of your chest before he roves his tongue to teasingly lap near your perked nipple. he takes a single whiff, and he’s enticed. satoru was always a clingy man. you had his cock stilled inside of your cunt the entire time you laid back against the cushioned mattress. despite it being so early in the morning, he couldn’t help but want more, want you.

pristine white tresses of hair rub up against your chest as he nuzzles further into you. “mhm, seems like they missed me too, mwah,” he kisses your left breast, feeling you cutely writhe. satoru’s still reclined back against the king-sized bed before he shoots you a sleazy grin. “tell me somethin’,” he whispers, and his hands suddenly grab onto your unsteady hips. you moan—feeling him start to leisurely rock you quicker into him. the bulbous curve of his shaft makes your legs merely collapse inward. “you touched yourself today, sweets? while i was work, hm?”

“n- no,” a soft whisper sprints out of your lips as you watch his hands tenderly guide your hips back and forth. you’re drenching his cock with your sweet syrupy sap, clamping down mercilessly within each sloppy thrust. so good, you bit down at the bottom of your lip before your tits start to bounce again. satoru glances straight toward them and he almost moans himself. the way they slap back against your chest. pap pap pap, he feels himself get harder the more he stares at your loud tits hitting against you, his cock sporadically and shamelessly twitching inside of you.

“no?” he repeats, and he noticed how your eyes dart away for a split second as you speak in a hushed voice. as his fat shaft continues to deeply barrel inside of your puffed cunt, he hums, cupping one of your springy soft breasts. “ ‘course ya did, you sent me those soapy pics of you in the bath on my break,” shit. you completely forgot, and you now start to whine as you’re just bouncing on his cock. your head fills up with nothing but clouded empty thoughts—not a single thought in your mind but the longing anticipation of satoru pumping you full of yet another thick load.

ruthlessly, the skin of your own starts to smack back onto your chest over and over as you thoroughly dig the centers of your knees into his thighs. “silly girl,” the white haired man playfully taps against your forehead, giving it a soft dumbing knock. ‘m making that my wallpaper by the way. fuckin’ sexy.”

as you’re whimpering the same repeated cacophonies of his name, you gasp, feeling his palm softly swat against your tits. “fuck, satoru!” you clench down on your jaw and your hips continue to sway. it was a tender delicate spank against your breasts, but he grunts once he feels your pussy squeeze against him the second he does it. you liked it. your body, he knew it—he knew every part of it, and he found it cute how you always responded to his lewd antics. “hngh, ‘m not gonna last, ‘s still sensitive, ‘toru.”

“you’re a kinky ‘lil thing, huh,” he lips curve into sly simper once he hears your cute hiss. you’re growing dumber and dumber the more your ass pounds against him and the brief sting makes him groan. his fat thick base sits right underneath you and you feel how full it is, so swollen. your mouth starts to salivate at the realization of just how deep he’s inside—merrily massaging your gummy clingy walls. satoru loved more than anything to give you a good filling after a long day of work. it was his treat to you, and he couldn’t resist when you were just so sweet. “ooh. like that?” he purrs, and you moan once he then gives your nipples a squeeze with two stubby fingers. fuck, your legs were shaking and he felt it—your body was a ticking time bomb. “yeah, yeah you do. pussy’s a sloppy dead giveaway, angel.”

“sato—ugh,” you moan, and he goes back to sucking on your tits. even whilst buried between your chest, he’s so pretty. satoru’s got the biggest cheekiest grin plastered on his lips as he’s got nothing but your boobs in his mouth. you’re still riding him but once his tongue slurps against your sensitive nipple - it’s over. your brain short circuits and your hands grab onto his hair hard. he’s drooling all down your chest and yet he doesn’t care about being messy. his tongue traces everywhere down your skin until he’s just tenderly sucking at any spot his lips can reach. “fuck, fuck, m- more please.”

“my wife’s got such a pretty body,” he groans, his lips ‘popping’ loudly once he removes your boob from his lips. glossy strands tear away from the slim cracks of his mouth before he rubs a thumb over your throbbing nipple. “y’know what though,” and his voice lowers. you gulp, still having his dick idle inside of your sopping cunt before he leans up close to your ear, pressing a hand down on your tummy. “you’d be an even prettier mommy. think ‘m ready ‘ta see that tummy round ‘n plump again, sweets.”

☆ TOJI FUSHIGURUO

“ah, ah babygirl. hold still, need ‘ta give the twins some extra lovin’ too,” a raspy voice whispers against the back of your ear.

you moan, slumping back against your husband’s chest. he still had his work clothes on and he’s just came back from home. it’s late evening, dusk preparing to set and yet—the first thing he made sure to do was to touch his pretty wife everywhere.

his bare scarred hands softly grab against both of your breasts, making them playfully bounce in his palms. “no bra too? such a good girl.”

“t- toji,” you whimper, almost forgetting that his cock was still buried deep inside of you. hes not even moving, you’re not even moving and yet you feel his thick heavy cock plummet through your goopy insides. he’s always been a clingy man, you knew that, and if it wasn’t your ass toji fushiguro was utterly obsessed with, it was your tits.

you were wearing nothing but a silky ivory colored nightgown. he peeped at how your perky nipples would rub and poke out against the showy soft fabric and he hums in sly amusement.

your hips were slow, painfully slow.

you were barely moving, but his cock was very much keeping your gummy insides occupied. his touch was fiery hot and you collapse back against his chest before feeling his lips kiss down your neck. “fuck, i still have to m- make dinner.”

“no need, hon,” he huskily snickers, and you let off another moan once he gives both of your breasts a firm squeeze. he’s obsessed, the rotund prints of his thumbs couldn’t resist to swipe and swerve all across your sensitive nipples just to feel you squirm and writhe on his cock.

oh, you could never stay still and it was his favorite thing about you. you cutely shiver from his touch, leaning into his grasp before hearing your own cunt squelch.

it’s screaming out a pretty sloshing ‘pop’ sound that echoes through the thin peeling dry walls and a wry smile compresses against toji’s lips. “already got my dinner right fuckin’ here,” and you moan once one of his hands creep down toward the curvature of your ass, giving it a soft spank. “ah, never said you could stop ridin’ me, pretty mama. work those hips more f’me. chop chop.”

“ngh, toji i’m gonna cu— oh!” you shriek, and as your jerking hips start to pick up again, slamming meaner and quicker against his lap, you gush right out. you end up cumming far earlier than you anticipated, all thanks to his rude blushing tip repeatedly kissing and mashing up against your most sweetest spots. you’ve never felt more dumb. you’re at a lost for words, stupidly dumbfounded. you’re moaning out inaudible whimpers as you hear your slick mess slosh down right between your pried open thighs. toji grunts, feeling your honeyed mess spray and cream all down his twitching lengthy shaft. his cock’s still plugged into your greedy pussy as your legs now grow limp. toji’s got his hands glued back on your tits and he playfully gives them a few bounces. “f- fuck.”

“did ya just cum from me playin’ with yer tits, baby?” he coos, a wolffish grin spreading against his lips.

so hot, your legs continue to spasm before squeezing shut, keeping his dick inside. you could barely even swallow without moaning out little whimpers of his name as your tongue’s just casually lolled out of your mouth.

“aw,” he tsks, giving your nipples that poke through your blouse a kittenish pinch. you’re weakly grinding against his lap whilst he’s whispering sweet nothings to you from behind. you’ve never felt more sensitive—and ripples surge all through your body as you ride out your orgasm, hearing toji’s breath get more rasp against the shell of your ear. “there there babygirl, ‘s okay. relax,” he whispers in a gruff tone as one of his hands slide down your body. you twitch from his callused fingers slithering down your chest. “such a messy cutie, should play with y’er tits more often if ya get like this, heh.”

☆ NANAMI KENTO.

“thought about you today at work,” nanami purrs, a husky baritone smoothing underneath his tone. your drooling wet pussy was so so closed to milking him yet again, and he’s just in awe at how you ride him good—bouncing on his fat cock with droopy half-open eyes. he’s exhausted, he’s been up and about his feet all day everyday, same old same old nine to five job but he was missing you. and now that he had you, he was clingy. nanami kento was clingy, so clingy to the point where you had to pry his hands off. he’s got you riding him in his creaking wooden rocking chair whilst he’s got a flustered grin curling against his slick glossed lips. “thought about you ‘n these pretty girls too.”

right as he said that though, he’s got two big hands squeezing against your tits, cupping them each in such a delicate manner. you gasp, continuing to rock back and forth against his halfway pulled down silk slacks before you moan. “fuck, ‘ken,” and his touch was so tender. his fingertips trace everywhere—every crevice and corner of your body. you still had your bra clasped on and he can’t help but openly gawk.

your wobbly hips continue to swivel all around him as your ass rigorously throws itself on his lap, smack smack smacking away. it feels sharp, your unpredictable movements that were once in sync with his grew more and more unsteady and it makes the aging rocking chair behave more and more rickety. it’s pathetically crying from the pounds of hefty weight crushing against it. “mhm,” you mewl through gritted teeth and your hands softly grab onto his wide wrists. a thumb of yours ghosts against the band of his rolex and he shoots you a needy grin. “kento, you never answered my question.”

“hm? oh,” there’s a playful glint in his eye, and you moan again once his head goes right between your springy tits. he’s showering every exposed area with a multitude of wet chaste kisses, making sure your skin knows who’s making it feel good - him. “oh, my day was fine sweetheart,” and a drawing hot breath gets stuck in the back of your throat, feeling his sly tongue slowly and playfully lap down the valley of your breasts. “mhm, so fine,” and his voice drops lower and lower. your hips start to slow down with seconds and he’s just toying with you. nanami’s hands now slither further down to toward your quavery hips. “my day’s even better now that i’m spendin’ it with my pretty wifey.”

and you let off a sweetened three second moan once he starts to latch his glistening lips against your swollen neglected nipples. shaggy blond strands of hair tickle against the upper part of your chest as he starts to suck, closing his eyes and allowing his mind to roam. “ah, i remember when milk used to come from here, my love,” he grunts, shifting between each tit — he’s tender, making sure to take his time whilst his hardened cock’s still hidden inside of your puffy cunt. nanami’s cupping each hand over your breasts before his gentle fawn eyes meet yours. the tip of his tongue swirls around your achy nipple before he groans right into your chest. “thinkin’ about that makes me wanna put another baby in you, sweetheart. f- fuck, all swollen ‘n plump. you’d like that?”

“y- yes,” you moan, and your hips start to frantically pick up again. the angered plump crownhead of nanami’s cock extends through each pivotal thrust and you feel it. the curving hook of his cock repeatedly thrashes up inside of you and you’ve never felt more full. he’s just so deep, you bite back a moan or two before your breathing starts to catch up with you. he’s tapping against a spongy texture and it makes your thighs squeeze together in sudden rapture. “want another baby, please. give me another..another baby,” your words start to chop as your hips become sloppy. your pussy’s got his entire cock slobbering down from the veiny sides with your sap and he grunts at the sloshing slickness.

“give you?” nanami softly rasps, and he raises a blond eyebrow at your needy demand. “oh, baby. that’s not how we ask. c’mon, be a big girl ‘n ask me the right way, sweet thing,” and he grazes a thumb over your pouting lip, kissing it gingerly. “talk to me nice, my love.”

as his cock roughly punctuates inside of you within each exaggerated thrust, you toss your arms over him, whimpering loudly. “please, please can i have another baby, ‘ken. breed me, make me full. want it so bad, want you.” and he leans in to kiss you. it’s passionate, his lips dance against yours whilst his tongue slides into your mouth, demanding access. you moan, feeling his solid weight continue to anchor into yours. slamming, he’s got your hips working to the bone and it makes him groan. nanami’s hand go back toward your tits and he gives them a nice good feel, smiling against your lips once he feels the full doughy mounds bounce and jolt in his hand.

“better be a g-good girl ‘n take it then,” he huffs, stammering over his own words. nanami leans in, going back to sucking against your tits. they slap and move move all against his face due to your rocky hips and a faint grin tugs on both sides of his lips. your hips grind further into him at full speed—full throttle and you moan once one of his hands gives your ass a squeeze which turns into a quick spank. “mhm, that’s it. ride me, honey. milk me, got so much ‘ta give you,” and your skin melts into him the faster you move. skin against skin and it smacks rough, ricocheting against both pounds of flesh and you whimper at the brief twinges of pleasure. each smack against flesh makes your ears ring and it’s only seconds before he’s cumming.

it’s a lot, a thick load of velvety ropes that deeply pours into your aching cunt. it’s so much to where it’s unapologetically dribbling down your thighs in creamy stringy clumps. it can’t fit inside of your cunt—he groans at the realization, cupping your right tit before going back to sucking against it whilst staring you straight in the eyes. “fuck, i- i need a minute,” and he’s gradually feeling his body succumb to defeat as his burly muscles tense underneath his business attire. with your tit still popped in his mouth, nanami shoots you a wry pussy drunk smile before lathering his tongue around your tender nipple. after a few seconds, he takes it out of his mouth before falling back. his and clench underneath his business shirt and he playfully smacks your ass, another hand dramatically fanning himself. “whew.”

☆ CHOSO KAMO.

“a- are you sure?” choso mumbles with a pout, and he’s panting heavily at the sight that’s right before him. you’re on your knees for him whilst your two hands cup under both of your tits. doing so—you show off your pretty nails he paid for about a week ago. you make direct eye contact with his leaking cock. his tip was a pearly pink, swollen with tears of pre-cum spewing from the sides. he’s got a hand wrapped around his length before he exhales. “i just—put it in between..?”

“mhm,” you softly coo, occasionally glancing at the black curly specks of hair that glue near his base. his happy trail, you stare at it for a while, watching his chiseled abs achingly flex before you puff out your bottom lip. “c’mon, baby. nice ‘n slow. ‘s okay. just pretend you’re fuckin’ me.”

an elongated breath gets caught in his throat at your lewd words. just pretend he’s fucking you. choso’s sable dark pupils dilate as he gives his throbbing cock a few single pumps. he’s slow, a thumb of his swipes against a pulsating vein that’s prodding on his skin before he slowly positions his dick between your plump tits. “f- fuck,” he murmurs, watching as two of your hands squeeze your breasts together. so soft, he watches you with cute widened eyes as his achy cock rests in between both of your mounds. choso’s so hard too, it’s almost painful at how much he’s throbbing but it feels too good to shy away. “baby, can you use your mouth too?”

“yeah, ‘cho,” you hum sweetly, and he hears the tease in your tone. it was probably a dumb question and he already felt a hot wave of embarrassment spray over his body. his breath continues to hitch as he sees you—gradually starting to bounce your breasts up and down with his twitching shaft caught between the slick valley. your dewy glossed eyes never leave his, and every few seconds you’d grab his shaft, using a hand to pull it up to your lips for a quick suck. choso whimpers, desperately craving for more. he’s never did such an activity like this before. a boob job, apparently humans call it that. he’s not a stranger when it comes to intimacy but this, he could get used to having his cock between your pretty tender tits. “mhm,” you purse your lips, briefly wrapping them around his sweltering hot tip. he’s close, you could tell he wasn’t gonna last long and the bouncing of his thigh gave it away.

“ugh, w- when you use your tongue, i—” he cuts off, a keen gasp ripping out from his vocal chords. you drag his leaky pulsating tip to smear around your nipples before popping it right back into your mouth. choso takes a mental image of this entire scenario, storing it in the back of his mind. but he just couldn’t take it anymore. “fuck it.”

you let off a sheepish giggle before it’s your turn to gasp once choso’s hand suddenly grabs the back of your head. you look up at him and he moans, pushing your head all the way down until his tip greets against the roof of your mouth. the edges of your nails pierce into his thighs as you’re now being face fucked, ruthlessly.

your head bobbles up and down continuously as your tits bounce in sync and you’re slobbering all down his cock. lustrous cobwebs of saliva start to string away from your lips and it’s so pretty. he’s trying to luxuriate in the feeling of your warm mouth keeping his cock warm.

so so good, he’s rolling his eyes in pleasure but that’s when you then feel his dick twitch inside your mouth and on your flat tongue once he spots you starting to drool. oh, and that was all it took for him to grow weak. glimmering sheeny strands of saliva cascade past your lips and further down the crack of your chest. it brings a brighter shine to your breasts and he’s never felt more turned on. “fuck, y- you’re so fuckin’ hot, baby,” he babbles, black arched brows contorting together in awe. choso’s tugging at your roots - pulling hard. you’re getting his entire dick wet with the help of your mouth—slurping inch after inch until his mushroom tip’s continuously kissing against the back of your throat. “ohfuckohfuckohfuck.”

as he’s blabbering out the same repeated cries, your eyes briefly widen once he’s shooting gooey ribbons of cum right into your mouth. the bittersweet taste never fails to make you squeeze your eyes shut for a moment. choso’s dick resumes to weakly pump down your throat as his milky hot cum sprays on the center of your pink tongue. twirling your tongue around his tip whilst your hands still play with your pretty breasts, you meet his gaze once he’s shaking—releasing his rough grip against the back of your head. “shit, was i too mean? ‘m sorry, ‘m sorry baby-”

and his voice slowly trails off once you pull his cock out of your mouth, hearing the loud ‘pop’ sound from your lips before you lick the side of your mouth. “i’m okay, ‘cho,” you coo, feeling yourself throb a bit at choso being rough for a change—it was just the image of him shoving you down his cock, watching you play with your tits, gripping hard on your strands all while whining. “you liked that, baby?”

“a lot, actually,” he grows sheepish. but even after the fact, choso can’t help but smear his achy tip against your swollen lips, before softly smacking it against it against your rolled out tongue. you looked a mess - his mess. strands of saliva land on his tip once he brings it toward your lips, watching you give it s quick kiss. but as he glances at your twitching cum-glossed lips, he desperately to kiss you and snatch a taste for himself but he knew he had to wait. choso starts to pant, wrapping all five fingers around his veiny length before stuffing it back between your tits. “one more,” and he lets off a soft moan once you spit on his cock, slimy transclucent drool glissading down the valley of your chest and onto his rosy tip. “you’re so n- nasty, heh. do that again, princess.”

☆ SUGURU GETO

“stay still,” he whispers, and you glance down at geto who’s resting his chin right between your breasts.

they’re all bare and exposed, his favorite view. he’s missed you all day and he couldn’t wait to pounce on his pretty wife. “my, look at these. jus’ waiting for me,” and he cups both of them, giving them bother tender kisses. fat silky covers go over the both of you and just seconds ago, geto was pounding into you raw until your pussy was literally overflowing with velvety ropes of cum. “untouched, i presume?”

“y- yes, sugu,” you breathe, feeling a bit tender from his delicate touch. he grunts, shifting a bit under the plump covers. his cock rests flat against the dull grey sheets before he starts to rut against your leg. a hand of yours finds its way to run through his strands, digging near his tender scalp. “didn’t touch myself all day. waited for you.”

a small hum leaves from him before he brings his crooked lips up toward your right breast. groaning, geto leand in to suck against it—he’s feral, sloppy rutting hips slowly grind against your thigh that’s propped up underneath him as his tongue flicks up and around your nipple. “ah, sugu,” your eyes squeeze shut for a moment as your fingers intertwine with his thin raven locks. his eyes were closed and he was so into it, his tongue circles around your nipple before he slurps—popping sounds shrieking out from his slim reddened lips. “fuck, don’t stop. . please,” and your words only made him grunt more. he didn’t even realize he was humping all up against your leg but he didn’t care.

this place—buried right between your tits, absolute heaven to him. .

he’s so sloppy too, he’s got strands of slippery saliva dripping past his perfect parted lips as he’s snaking his head down the crack of your chest. “oops,” he whispers, dark hooded eyes observing the mess he’s creating. your breasts were all swollen, the centers of your mounds were so shiny all because of his saliva. your nipples were poorly tender and glistening with drool. “sorry, sweetie. couldn’t help myself. had ‘ta get a taste of my favorite girls,” and his words get a bit muffled once he stuffs his face back in between your tits. you giggle but it quickly turns into a sultry long moan once he starts to greedily suck against the other neglected breast. “mhm,” and he groans loudly, the tip of his cock brushing up against your thigh. geto’s wearing sweats but even still, you could feel it. his dick rubbing off against the grey fabric, ticking all against your leg. he’s brick hard and with your tits stuffed in his mouth, it only made him ten times worse.

“fuh— fuck,” he snarls, and his half on boxers continue to snag against your skin. geto’s brows come together before he ends up cumming - it’s so abrupt, his eyes roll back and you can almost hear a whimper leave from his throat. “goddamn,” he huffs, and as his chest heaves in and out, he stares up at you with the most feral expression. his mouth’s open and no words come out anymore for a while—just breathy hot pants and faint whimpers. geto couldn’t have felt anymore embarrassed. damp grey splotches soak and create a patch near the center of his boxers as his hips grow substantially weak. geto’s shuddering, and you pull him close as his head’s buried between your tits. “you drive me c- crazy, y’know,” he moans, and he’s still feeling the sharp after effects. his cock was now soft and flaccid, bulging inside of his cerulean blue boxers that hide underneath his sweats before he pouts on your chest. “got me h- humpin’ your leg ‘n moaning for you, fuck.”

“it’s okay, suguru,” you whisper, silvery fingers still kneading through his hair. his face softens at your reassurance. his eyes meet toward your lips before you give his forehead a kiss. “good boy.”

“s- shut up,” he scoffs, both sides of his cheeks angrily flushing the second those two horrid words slither out of your lips. the audacity, geto’s still laid on top of you as if he’s practically glued against your body. he’s so hot against your skin that both pounds of flesh practically melt against each other. but, geto can’t help but pout more against your chest as he looks up at you, his pride’s nowhere to be found as he’s now happily nuzzling his face into your tits. “say it again, sweetheart,” and he sounds annoyed but he’s actually pleading for more—not only did you make him insanely sensitive but you also made suguru geto whimper. “tch. call me that again. see what happens. f- fuck.”

[drgnflyteabox]

can't get much better

pairing: ghost / simon riley x fem reader summary: simon is forced to take some time off - he makes the most of it. tags/warnings: very soft, pregnant sex, size difference, softdom!simon- he's a masculine man who doesn't let his lady lift a finger :'), oral (f), one (1) butthole kiss, dacryphilia, daddy kink (sigh), minor minor foot stuff, allusions to injuries and chronic pain, title from an adrianne lenker song w.c: 2.5k

You try very hard not to think about it, but it's hard not to notice how massive he is.

Even shirtless, he somehow looks bigger, muscles flush with heat and exertion under the sun. He toils and breathes hard like an ox, working while you sit on the porch wrapped in his big flannel. Wearing his clothes is like being swaddled in a blanket straight out of the dryer, warm and nostalgic and syrupy with love. It leaves you feeling some type of tender. You're afraid of that feeling sometimes, of how soft it is and how soft it makes you. He could ask anything of you, and you'd yield like he was pressing his thumb into a bruised peach.

You have.

"How are you two?" Simon is so quiet when he wants to be. One would think he'd clomp like a horse with how big he is, but he can float like dust. It used to startle you, but you've been sinking deeper into the memory foam mattress of this life with him and it doesn't anymore.

"Tired, even though I'm not doing anything," you squint at him through the late afternoon sun. It haloes him like an angel.

"You're growing my baby in there, love. That's not nothing," his voice is rough, it always will be. But it's rough now like earth and soil rather than rough with pain and smoke the way he'd sounded when you met him.

You're feeling especially nostalgic, it seems, not like it's hard here. His hand is warm on your belly.

"I guess so," you let him pet you for a moment. Your stomach is swollen but not as big as it'll get, just enough to veto pants. A few months to go still. "How's your back?"

"Argh," Simon says, taking a heavy seat next to you. Dismissive and yet he groans a little when his muscles unclench. Classic.

You slowly reach up and nudge him until he's facing the field opposite to you, face toward the golden afternoon sun and his back to you. He's never asked you to do this, to take care of him, but it's your favourite thing in the world.

His back is always rock-hard no matter how many times you take your knuckles and fingers to it. Just a condition of a hard life lived for him, countless falls and impacts and pushing through injuries. There's a slight slant to his spine now that isn't there in the pictures he's shown you of his youth, but the stiffness is the same. You might've said he was born to be a soldier, had you not known him as a father. He could do both, but - you'd never say this out loud - you were privately grateful for this injury. It wouldn't take him out forever, but the recovery would be long. Long enough to get the homestead started, to get you pregnant.

Simon would never be completely still. This was compromise. Sweet compromise, a life started and time with him you could think back on the next time he shipped out. Making the most of things, he would always say. Making the time count.

"That feels good, love" he groans. Bending forward slowly, relaxing, he's like an aloof stallion finally accepting an apple from your hand. Acquiescing. Showing you his back. It's trust, and you savour it.

"I bet it does," you tease back, just a little. Your fingers are nimble and attuned to his specific aches and pains. "Are you hungry for dinner?"

"I'm hungry for something," he turns, slowly, hands reaching for your thickened waist. Huge, work-roughened hands. War-roughened hands, holding you like a delicate egg. Sometimes it feels like he's the only thing that holds you together; all your pieces, everywhere, until he's holding you.

Kissing him is a contact sport. It's his hands moving, cupping your breast and then your pussy through your panties, your own hands wrapping around his broad shoulders like he's the only thing keeping you from drowning. It's open-mouthed, breathing into each other. Impossibly, you get softer, melting like ice on a hot day. 

Before you can lean back on the bench, he stands and lifts you with him. He's still hot from the day, damp with sweat, pushing you into the house while kissing you still.

"Simon-" you start, with no goal in mind. "Please."

"I've got you, love," he murmurs. He always does. Before you know it, you're laid back onto the plush armchair in your living room. Simon knows this is the most comfortable place for your newly-aching body. Affection swells in your chest uncontrollably and comes out through your eyes leaking down your face. Sure, pregnancy makes people emotional - but you're still embarrassed, touched by how considerate he is.

"It's alright, shh," he thumbs the tears at the corner of your eyes. His cock tents his work pants, aroused by them. "Let me take care of you."

The next words he murmurs are into your cunt, right over your panties, tongue laving over the already-wet fabric. "Just need your daddy, don't you?" You clench in tandem with his words, hot all over, skin prickling. He pushes your dress up, bunching it right under your tits.

It's reminiscent of how you spent the first night with him, on the very first day you'd met. Hurried, his big head between your thighs and clothes hanging off you still while he made you fall apart.

He's fucking good at it, too. Pulls your panties to the side and builds up the pressure with which he sucks on your clit, softly and then harsher until you shake. You've been extra horny lately, always wet around him and always so swollen. The scrape of his five-o-clock shadow against the sensitive skin of your inner thigh is what tips you over, clamping his head tightly and shouting your orgasm into the heady summer air.

"That all it takes?" Simon grins, chin wet, fingers moving from your hips to your pussy to gently rub along your slit.

"Give me a second, please," it's humbling how quickly you come nowadays. Quick and intense. Fireworks.

You set your foot on his shoulder and he turns towards it, kissing your ankle. Patience is rare with him, something come about only since you confirmed your pregnancy. You miss being overwhelmed by him, miss the nights where he'd guide you over the edge one, two, three times in succession.

He pushes now, just a little, not waiting for your go-ahead but watching you intently. His fingers spread your cunt in a V and he puffs a breath on your sensitive clit. You jump. He grins again, leaning down to lick you, using one hand to hold both your legs under your knees and push them until they meet the soft bump of your belly.

"Hold them there," he says. It's spoken not to you, but to your hole, which he spears his tongue into. You obey as you're helpless to do, holding your legs up and giving him an unimpeded view. It's more than vulnerable, it's not only baring yourself to him completely but giving him the authority to do what he wants. What you need.

Simon eats you out like it's a kiss, slurping you down and letting you leak until the evidence of your weakness to him is all over you. Your legs are wet, and it drips down onto your other hole. He pushes a thumb into your cunt, dipping it in and out.

"Needed me, did'ya? Watched me all day," he's so smug, sometimes. His lips find your bare foot, kissing your sole. "Been wet like this all day?" His other hand finds the meat of your asscheek, spreading you open further, letting the split of you open to him. He leans down, kissing your inner thigh, then your other hole. You whine and clench your pussy around his thumb. 

"So needy," he murmurs, finally finally moving back to your clit. Flicks his tongue over it, something that might've been teasing before but is intense now. Your hands tighten against your legs, head thrown back.

"Oh please- Simon!" You shout again, abs drawing up, stars in your eyes. "Ahh- I'm-"

"I know, honey," his lips suction again around the hard little pebble of your clit, eating like a man starved. 

This is how he likes you. Losing control, coming apart, helplessly vocal against the onslaught of his tongue. No matter how many times you've done this, it never gets old. The release almost always makes you cry, especially intense like this. You're wet all over, face and cunt and legs. He is, too.

"You still with me, love?" He pets your flank like you're a horse.

"Yes," but that's not what he wants.

"Yes what?"

"Yes, daddy."

"Good girl," and fuck if that doesn't always fill you with warm fuzzy energy. Wipes your brain, keeps you soft and floaty.

He guides you up and out of the armchair, lifts you into his arms when your legs shake too much. That electric feeling is still coursing through you, tingles in your extremities as they come back to life.

The hand he strokes over you is half affectionate, half proprietary. You've been his since the first time he laid eyes on you.

He reminds you of it as he sets you down gently on the bed, your hair a halo around your head and hands reaching to his face where you pull him down for a kiss. Hands find his shirt, pulling it off you, and then the dress. Fingertips touch the headboard, your arms stretching up, making room for him. Slips your panties down your legs.

It's a lingering, indulgent kiss. Breathing each others air, gasping into his mouth, he puts his elbows by your head and lays as much weight down as he can without cramping your full belly. He's as vocal as you, groaning and rutting like a dog.

"Ready for me, sweet girl?" He leans out of the kiss, sitting back on his heels. You nod, desperate and pulsing between the legs again like you didn't just come twice.

"Daddy's gonna take care of you, don't you worry," he rearranges you like a doll, turning you to your side and getting between your legs. A pillow is tucked under your belly, and he tests your flexibility by holding your leg tight to the length of his body. Your hamstring burns a little with it.

A hand holds your knee, another to your waist. His jeans scrape against your sensitive skin.

You focus on little details. His scar, touching his eyebrow and splitting through his nose, ending down by his jaw. The knuckles on his fingers holding your knee, and how rough the pads of his fingers feel on your waist. This man has never had soft hands in his life. Those same hands capable of so much force, so much violence, the very same that hold you and guide you. A shepherd, you his lamb.

The weeping head of his cock kisses your hole, catching there and traveling up. He taps it against your clit until you're tensing, whining, needy again. Tears down your cheeks.

He steadies you, pets your waist, guides his cock inside and it feels like you can breathe again. His mouth laves hot kisses over your ankle, the sole of your foot again, reverent and controlling all at once. The stretch burns - it always does, and maybe always will. Simon is just so big, thick all around and the mushroom head of him could always bump your cervix if he's not careful.

He's careful now, but only just. You can sense his control fraying, his hips driving forward steadily but his thighs tensing and his grip getting meaner. This is your favourite part. Watching him sweat, breathe hard, taking his pleasure in you.

"Yeah-" he cuts himself off with a long, drawn out groan. Deep, from the bottom of his belly and out. "Already so full of me, aren't ya? Can't get full enough."

You plead with your sounds, words out of your grasp. Your hands clutch at the sheets but it isn't enough. He's solid, he's your anchor, but he's losing himself in your cunt and you're free falling.

"Play with your tits for me," he commands, pumping faster. You're reflexively tightening around him, clit jumping for attention, squeaking each time he lets himself in as deep as possible and touches the mouth of your cervix.

Sunlight slowly fades on the bed, the last golden rays escaping out the window as you're bathed in dusk. 

There's nothing to do but obey, hands finding your swollen breasts and squeezing. They've been sore and huge, like that week before you get your period only it's been a couple months. None of your bras fit anymore.

Simon appreciates it, he loves it. Has you cooking for him with your tits out, nipples peaked and pussy leaking. They bounce, now, stopped only by your hands pinching and twisting. It's insane - no one in the world could replicate the feeling. No artist, no musician. Electricity zips from your breasts down to your clit and shit - you might come just like this, untouched, just full of your man and fondling yourself.

"Fuck, I can feel you squeezing me. Fucking," he pants, leaning over you, bending your leg. "Pinching my dick, sweetheart. Your pussy's so fucking good."

The orgasm begins in your toes, tingling. Your muscles tighten, drawing up, up, towards your cunt, which is making obscene sounds around him.

Simon sees the signs, sees your eyes rolling and your body going taut. He abandons your leg in favour of rubbing your clit with two big fingers quickly, up and down.

"That's it, sweetheart, come all over my cock. Go on," his voice is a snarl, barely distinguishable as human, beastly. "Be good for daddy.”

It's like the crescendo of an orchestra, like a summer afternoon in august, like waking up without a clogged nose after being sick, it's - really fucking good. You're near sobbing, crying out his name, abandoning your tits to reach for him desperately. He meets you halfway, shuddering his own orgasm into you. The press of his hips against yours is better than buttered toast, the delicate press of his chest against yours as he lets your leg go is bliss.

"Si-imon," you slur, hands on his cheeks. He laughs and kisses your forehead.

"What's that, sweet girl?"

"I love you," you cry a little more then, feeling him pull out and lay next to you. You're boneless.

"I love you too," his arm reaches across you, pulling you into him. "Both of you." Hand on your belly again.

"That was insane," you pant. He barks a laugh against your hair. "I'm serious."

"I know you are, love," he kisses your forehead, petting your stomach. You can tell it's meaning, can feel the gratefulness behind the kiss. He's saying thank you, for staying with him, for making him a father. Your hand finds his, squeezing back a wordless reply. Of course, it says.

<3

[moonstruckme]

Hi Mae! I hope your day has been as lovely as you are—which is to say, the loveliest! Could you please write a drabble with tasm!Peter and a reader who is generally not shy but flusters easily when Peter is affectionate and soft? The curse of not being used to it! No worries if not! 💞

Hope your day was as lovely as you are, sweetheart--which is to say, even lovelier <33

tasm!Peter Parker x fem!reader ♡ 412 words

“Baby,” Peter laughs, “I know how to dress for the cold.” 

“Right, but this isn’t the subway.” You’re wrapping a scarf around his neck, mouth pulled into a frown. “It’s a long walk to your work, and it’s freezing out. They say it could even snow tonight. This early in the year! Isn’t that crazy?” 

“You’re crazy,” he says warmly. “And cute.” Your eyes dip from his face, lips pressing together to keep a smile at bay. Peter watches it happen amusedly. “If I’m late because you’re putting a dozen layers on me, I’ll just have to web to work.” 

You snap out of your bashfulness. “Peter, that’s even worse. That suit is like wearing nothing!” 

“That’s my point, sweetheart.” Peter takes your face in his hands to press a kiss to your lips, stopping you from reaching for a pair of gloves. You’re outfitted in a coat, scarf, and a hat, appropriate garb for what really is a frigid day. But no matter how many times Peter has told you he runs hot because of his mutation, he doesn’t think you really believe him. 

“I’m gonna go,” he says, “but I’ll come by your work during lunch so you can see none of my fingers have frozen off. I’ll bring you a hot chocolate, okay?” 

You wet your lips, expression softened by the kiss. “You don’t have to do that.” 

“And what if I want to?” He lets his voice drop into a lower register, syrupy sweet. Kisses you again between your brows. “Maybe I wanna thank you for taking such good care of me, did you think of that?” 

He can practically feel the warmth emanating from your skin now. Your face pinches as if in agony. “Stop,” you chide him, but there’s little bite when you can hardly speak above a murmur. “You’re doing this to me on purpose.” 

Peter smiles. “What is it that I’m doing to you, pretty girl?” 

“Peter.” 

“Now I bet you want me gone, huh?” 

He thinks you’re trying to glare at him, but you’re too shy at the moment to pull it off. “Just stay warm.”

“You too.” Peter pulls your hat down over your ears, dropping a kiss on your nose. It’s burning hot under his lips. He suppresses a laugh. 

“You’re so mean.” 

“One of us has to be; you’re too sweet.” He does laugh when you cover your face with your hands, stealing out the door. “See you at lunch!”

[alessabriel]

Female Characters Arcane

Summary: 

Character: Vi (Violet), Sevika, Jinx (Powder), Caitlyn Kiramman, Mel Medarda, Grayson, Ambessa Medarda, Renata Glasc, Cassandra Kiramman. 

Cw. ninguna. 

➤  Vi (Violet).

In retrospect Vi had always been the strong one in everything, there was so much she carried inside her that sometimes she felt nothing short of exploding so hard and imploding until she disappeared. She didn't know if she felt like a supernova in moments, maybe she was exploding and never knew it or so she thought until she felt herself melting against soft hands, long fingers, slightly calloused fingertips, manicured nails and such a delicious feeling that shook her from bone to muscle. She felt boneless, naked, exposed, vulnerable and muscles exposed to the open air, naked nerves, nerves that you caressed so sweetly letting everything inside her melt and stir in an amalgam of comfort, warmth and coziness. It was cozy, it felt good to be comforted, cared for. It felt good, cared for, loved, adored even and it was embarrassing how she pushed her face into your chest; rubbing her cheek against the softness, bewitching herself in your scent, clinging to your body and wrapping her arms around your hips, squeezing in the hope that you wouldn't disappear.

"Because you love me so much pretty girl?"

He doesn't know why he asks, he just does, because he doesn't think he deserves so much love (if he does, he deserves it so much that you consider it almost a crime that he doesn't believe it).

"Because it's you, I love you from head to toe, the satisfying or unsatisfying feelings included, when you come home from a boxing league fight in Zaun with bloody knuckles, when I see you come home from work in that uniform I know you still hate, when you wake up with your hair a mess and in a bad mood, when you sleep, when you think you're not presentable, as a teenager and right now, I can't imagine myself anywhere else but next to you Vi" you recite with such ease, syrupy words rolling off your tongue with such sweetness and ease that they seem like honey, as you gently cradle her cheeks between your palms adoring her features; slightly bushy eyebrows, bright powder blue eyes, deceptively long eyelashes, nose just a little crooked from his countless fights, the small scar that gently parts his left eyebrow, the nose piercing, slightly plump lips and the scar on his upper lip, the tattoo on his cheek of a Roman six, the freckles that so subtly dot his skin"....I love everything about you Violet, I always will, until you let me."

Vi didn't pretend that this answer didn't completely disarm her; bone by bone, nerve by nerve until she felt almost dissected by every word and how your love seeped like water through her fingers, your loving gaze was only the last nail that cemented her love for you. Your love was intense when self-sabotage was at her fingertips and nightmares made her believe she was unloved, it was soft and gentle when she felt discouraged and decided, overwhelming when she felt needy and could not express it, violent when she refused to hear that she was loved. If you loved her you filled every nook and cranny, and helped her to get through, to move on and go on. You simply knew how to meticulously dissect her, skin layer by skin layer, muscles, bones, joints and veins to sneak your love in. You disassembled her to an almost molecular degree or could be compared to it. So, she just hid her face in her partner's shoulder, feeling her cheeks flushed beyond redness even her ears felt hot, her heart racing, her hands sweating and even her body's response to your caresses and words.

"...never leave me love"

"I will never rosita" you reply in a soft voice caressing the back of her neck, playing with the soft strands of her pink hair.

"...don't call me that" Vi whispered, even though she loved that cheesy nickname.

And you always understood her, as Vi understood you.

➤ Sevika 

For Sevika the notion of a quiet night was a lot, but occasionally this was; arriving at her apartment in Zaun (the only good thing about being Silco's second in command) where you usually arrived earlier since you worked in the weapons factories, hence you arrived before her. So arriving was a daily process, arriving at the place they shared where it always smelled like a meal cooked a little at a time, sometimes it smelled like a familiar food or a random dessert.

She craved something sweet.

She never knew how her partner was always aware of when she was craving something sweet, but she had an uncanny accuracy to it and today after dealing with Jinx's problems, having to fix them and not being able to complain because Jinx's self-proclaimed father would tell her to shut up, as if her job included babysitting a girl over 18. Fuck.

"From here I can see smoke coming out of that head of yours Vika."

Before she could even articulate a word a plate with a generous piece of chocolate cake was placed in front of her with a cutlery, she justly occupied something sweet to get over the bad drink.

"...again another mess I had to clean up" she grumbled annoyed, not in the mood to elaborate.

"Jinx, right?"

Sevika just affirmed, before taking the first bite, the chocolate exploded in his mouth and relaxed him a little, it was the little treats you usually always gave him, along with intimacy, and a life together that softened his heart.

"I don't want to bore you with the details sweetie" he replies before taking another bite of cake.

"you never bore me what happened Vika?"

The best nights are those where he eats something sweet prepared by the hands of the woman he loved and just talk, sometimes about nothing, sometimes about everything, about the future they dreamed together as children (although it was not the same it was close to what they imagined although with the difference that she herself could never give you everything she dreamed of giving you), about how they were so fucked up that nothing could get them out of that hole but together it was worth it or about the day of both of them. Sometimes she allowed herself to daydream, to dream of a better life to be able to give her partner, a place where they both didn't have to be so meddled with everything they knew would cost them in the long run.

"I love you Vika" you whispered in a syrupy voice, before stealing a kiss from Sevika that tasted like chocolate and expensive cigars.

Sometimes Sevika felt good like this.

➤ Jinx (Powder)

Mylo's voice sometimes upset her more than she could bear, more than she was willing to tolerate and she felt like scratching her scalp until she reached her skull, to go even further to her brain and to be able to shut up that irritating voice. Now she was not the Powder who felt bad about everything, who felt her spirit die with every veiled insult, with every "whenever something goes wrong, you bring bad luck" or with every memory that she tried hard to forget because she would not have them anymore, because she would never have access to more of it. So she became engrossed in improving her pumps, making the closed circuit more precise and making sure no one could see inside them.

"Silco says you haven't eaten in a few blue days."

Jinx hears you, clearly he does as your voice is the only one capable of getting through all the voices swirling in his ears; Mylo scoffing and Claggor pointing out a few things on his pump, thanks a thousand times your voice.

"...Silco says a lot of things" he grumbles before pressing the pump in the perfect closed loop to throw it towards the vacuum under the huge turbine where his workshop was located listening to the explosion "but he's right this time, I haven't eaten and I don't plan to...Did you cook me? Gimme, gimme, gimme!"

Sometimes she regrets everything that was going on, but the only thing that made her feel good and maybe somewhat lucky (contrary to what Mylo was always saying in her ear) to have a girl who was in love with her and who cared for her in her own way, sometimes she thought that your love kept her halfway sane, but er a secret that she would take to her grave forever.

Powder, in the past knew what filial love, support and warmth felt like.

Until blue came along to change everything.

Jinx, knows what fear is in the eyes of others, what affection for identification is since Silco saw himself in her but never knew to what degree which led him to treat her as a daughter which he sincerely appreciated, and knew what pure love meant, love without adultery.

You, blessed and cursed be you loved her for every positive and negative trait, you held her in her crises, you embraced her when nightmares destroyed her bone by bone, and when pink detonated her. You had seen the worst of her being, that lurid, dirty, stained and ground to a bloody pulp and yet you could love her, encourage her, tell her the truth and be her pillar. You seemed to be forged in heaven with a resilience that only the devil could create, or so she formulated.

"Have you cracked the Hextech theory yet?" you question interested, looking over her shoulder at her work leaving her to eat in peace and her space.

Jinx takes a while to pass the huge mouthful of food she had taken, but it was a sandwich with everything she liked and she finally had something in her stomach, she didn't know how but every food you touched tasted a thousand times better.

"something like that" she replies as she passes the bite with a gulp of apple juice, and her mind betrays her with remembering that you had a huge gallon of apple juice in your home just for when she visited did that feel like being loved? maybe yes "they are equations, calculations, instruction and so on, sequences of steps but I have a little trouble deciphering them, I have to recreate the, understand them so I can replicate them, and runes I think? I think they are runes and I don't know what they mean, but an easy job would be boring."

"wow that sounds complicated"

She only nods at your words, before she feels the gentle weight of your bandaged hand against her slender shoulder, and immediately identifies the weight of your hand on her. A welcome weight, loved, adored even and she melts all over, mouth full; your lips softly against her hundred, with warm, abiding love.

"Blue luck" you say in a soft voice, just for her.

Jinx stays alone in her workshop, a plate of food on her desk with another sandwich which she must finish because it is a crime not to finish the food you make her with so much love next to the big glass of apple juice, a glass which you yourself had made for her filled with soft drawings of the sky clouds over a gradient in blue of different shades until bordering on black. Her old glass had broken and you, bless you, had made her a new one, a new meaning that didn't make her retch from time to time.

How much did you love her? She thinks, maybe, you loved her very much and that comforts her.

➤ Caitlyn Kiramman. 

For Caitlyn to really feel her mother's rejection for her career was like a little thorn embedded in her skin and to be reduced to only having patrols in the Piltover shopping area was a bruise on the flesh, blood grinding and reminiscent of the annoyance from time to time, she hates it. She hates that it left her on patrols in expensive stores, the commercial sector and plaza of Piltover where nothing was going on.

It took her away from the countryside where she wanted to be to see the world outside of golden Piltover.

But, as always, she found the good part of it, she could sneak away and escape at times to that elegant, beautiful and minimalist store full of beautiful flowers exported from murky waters, Bandle City, Demacia, the Freljord, Ixtal, Ionia, Noxus, Targon and Zaun, that's a lot of flowers that are on display for all who can and want to buy, a beautiful and elegant flower shop. Whenever you went in there it was a delight to your nose since it smelled like a combination of flowers, a sweet, clean and you perfume. Although it was an irony since you always smelled of flowers, and perfume.

You were her safe place.

Caitlyn makes her way pretending to check until she reaches the flower shop and enters, opening the thick ornate glass doors that only allowed a partial view of the flower shop and when she steps inside, the amalgamation of scents so pleasant hits her nose in a friendly way and then she sees you, you're in the back room she sees you coming and going with flowers in your hands, so he takes the trouble to put up the sign "I'll be back in a flower arrangement" which always gave him grace and advanced through the store seeing the elegant furniture in pleasant tones to the back room where you are humming creating very elegant flower arrangements with a crystal flower in the middle of other more extravagant and beautiful ones. She leans against the door frame, watching you create those beautiful floral arrangements before rapping her knuckles on the door.

"Did I tell you that you look like a fairy?" she questions with amusement, it's a sweet nickname she's always had for you

"This fairy witnesses an enforcer skipping her patrols? The audacity" you reply with a chuckle, amused "Mistress Cassandra put you on a leash again pretty girl?"

She snorts when she hears you, stepping fully into the back room closing the door seeing that in the back there are even more flowers on huge furniture acclimating for them "You know, she's got the short leash for me and daddy couldn't dissuade her, so I'll be here for a few weeks."

"Then we can have lunch together. What do you think?" you offer, looking for something good in between everything.

"it would be a crime not to take advantage, sure do you fancy going for lunch? I've already put up your "I'll be back in a flower arrangement" sign" she says with amusement at the text you created when you got your own place

"Oh come on, it's original miss enforcer."

Yeah, maybe there was something good about patrolling the shopping area.

➤ Mel Medarda. 

"Don't move so much dear" Mel says, without the need to see you as she hears the soft sound of the silk sliding across your skin and is concentrating on the canvas finishing finding the exact tone of your skin, as if she has it memorized already "I don't want to lose the pose I indicated".

"It's just that my thigh itches" you grumble with a disgruntled pout because of the itch and when Mel allows you to move, you scratch just a little and return to the pose that is not so uncomfortable, leaning back against an elegant armchair that Mel had acquired just for you when they started living together with only a silk covering your skin in the areas where they should be covered "Aren't you bored? I am, talk about something, I don't know."

"A troubled muse, from what I see" adds with a chuckle Mel, smiling combining the tones in the palette watching you with deep gaze analyzing your anatomy, how your thighs joined your wide hips with a softness as if you were molded by the gods themselves and maybe, it was true "I'm almost done and I'll take you to dinner at your favorite restaurant"

"I want desserts" you jump with excitement, not realizing how the silk falls from your chest revealing your breasts and you remember your possess returning to her with blushing cheeks "Sorry love"

Mel just smiles, and finds even more charming the pose you came to be in, a gentle evolution of the original pose, demure and sensual, almost an innocent combination, as your gaze falls to the side as a soft embarrassment, but notice your sidelong glance at herself, a gaze full of love and glow. It is one of the many canvases she has created, in a long list of paintings that are in her living room and there will be one more.

"You should order food first, if you eat only desserts your stomach will hurt" she points out, adding more shadows.

"Mel" you complain in a whiny and annoyed tone, holding the pose.

"Food before, dessert after and rosé wine" tries to convince Mel already knowing your eternal love for sweet, and well sweet comes back to sweet

"...okay"

"Good girl"

Silence fills the room, and Mel continues with the painting on the canvas, trying to portray your sweet self until your voice again is heard, she loves that you are that sweet and somewhat whiny woman, because it is only in moments like these where you show how spoiled she has you, and it must be so, something she learned in Noxus (maybe the only good thing) that couples will always be priority and keeps you pampered, spoiled and happy, like you have her happy always.

"Almost there?"

Yes, she loves those moments where your gaze meets hers and you look like a spoiled little princess but there is a sweet fun in your eyes that she loves and finds herself adoring.

"I think I'll paint other canvases."

"Mel!"

He just laughs, continuing, he loves when you are his muse, because in retrospect you are always his muse even when you wake up disheveled and when you are dazzlingly beautiful decked out in the best dresses. He simply loves you.

➤ Grayson. 

he stress of work weighs heavy on his body, he almost feels twice his age and when he gets home, the aroma of a meal cooking wafts from the kitchen delighting his nose and being, you are his home and he adores you, you are the perfect wife. He distracts himself by taking off his boots in the entryway, stepping onto the cold living room floor passing through the spacious living room before he gets the soft smack of you impacting against his body and he can only smile, you always do that even when they were young and he loves those effusive hugs.

"You know I come home dirty from work honey" he speaks in a soft, gravelly voice close to your ear, squeezing his arm around your shoulders and kisses your hundred, savoring that expensive cream you love so much and keeps your skin smooth, from which he steals from time to time

"You know I don't mind, I must give you your hug every time you arrive" you grumble against his suit, he smells a bit humorous and a bit sour, he sure did patrol in Zaun with the recent peace treaty between the two cities and you cling to his chest, before looking up seeing him with loving eyes, Grayson is so beautiful beyond belief and as the years go by she only gets more attractive and handsome, you love that rugged and gentle air which combine masterfully in her and you stand on tiptoe kissing her "Welcome home, I'm making your favorite but I'll leave it on low heat and I can give you a bath."

"Do I look so old that you already ueires to give me a bath yourself?" she questions, with light humor frying her nose against your cheek holding you against her body, hugging you lovingly and loving the sweetish scent on your skin.

"It's not that" you say, with a pout before kissing his jaw and biting it gently "But I want to spoil you, you're the man of the house" you add, with dark humor that only your wife understands.

Grayson can only smile, the black humor between the two was a way to deal with turbulent issues with their respective families, in your own case your father disowned you for marrying a woman (a beautiful and special woman, it should be clarified) which was something that hurt you at the time but now is a topic they make jokes like that about, and in your case your parents hated you from the beginning for not being male and well, black humor is being able to make fun of everything that can hurt them and well, in your marriage humor is never lacking.

"Well, well I can't deny my sweet wife anything."

The trip to the bathroom in the master bedroom where you both have slept for years, the uniform is left in the laundry basket and you step into the shower, getting all the dirt off listening to you humming as she watches you through the glass door that blurs everything and when she steps out, her own nakedness doesn't bother her and you less, you've seen each other naked before in all the marriage os, there's nothing sexual and when she touches the hot water with soothing salts, she almost melts against the marble, even more so when she feels your hands in her hair smearing the conditioner which keeps her frizzy hair in place and your fingers against her scalp almost makes her purr, melt against you.

"Don't you get tired of pampering me honey?" she questions in a deep voice, relaxed against the tub.

"Don't you get tired of loving me? Of waking me up with kisses? Of taking me on dates to places I tell you about and always remember? Of being the love of my life?" you question, voice soft and flowing, stroking her scalp taking care of her hair.

"Never."

"We're on the same page."

Grayson knows what it's like to feel loved, he knows what it's like to love, and he wouldn't change a thing about his life, he wants to love you for millennia if possible, in this life and beyond.

➤ Ambessa Medarda. 

"You know it's going to be hard" you say, to the air listening to her heavy, steady footsteps against the white marble floor of your personal library in the palace, your wife in all her warrior and emotionally constipated glory wandering around pacing, and you just leave her drawing the memory of the meal you had with your daughter and son-in-law; Mel and Jayce, they make such a cute couple it's inevitable not to portray them, you'll give it to your daughter.

"I know, things are never easy and even less so with Mel."

"Well, if you were banished you'd be upset too and remember, I almost divorced you, so do better."

Ambessa bites her lip, remembering that turbulent moment, as cruel as it is, that she embodies the fox and the wolf at the same time she loves her family with all her being, with everything and she could destroy a thousand regions in order to protect them, strip herself of her humanity in order not to lose them, which is a paradox since she herself banished her daughter, the daughter she loved so much and who exasperated her so much because Mel was like her before she touched death, before accepting that she could become that warlord that her clan needed because she would not throw her wife to that place although, in a global vision of everything she knows that her wife is a fox in the skin of a rabbit, she is the most lethal strategist of Noxus that even the other four warlords respect and rightly so, she does not need strength or a cannon to subdue the rest, to prove her worth and Mel also inherited that. Her daughter was, in retrospect the culmination of their love for each other in her.

"I know" she replied, annoyed but not addressing her properly dropping into the long nest you must always have in your personal library and when she sees how you put down your notebook, she comes over dropping her head in your lap "but...I really want to sort it all out."

"Have you tried talking to her yet, telling her the truth?" you question, running your fingers through her hair between wavy and curly, unruly letting her cling to your legs, her hand large and calloused against your bare leg due to the Noxus dress you wore, her fingers though they carried death and carried blood to no end on your skin, on your flesh they were gentle "...that time was hard, and you proved your point, I wasn't ready to go through that ordeal like Kino did, Mel is diplomatic and doesn't value war, death and blood like you were raised and what you held on to, but what you hold high for your clan, for your family and well Kino is just like you but with a little diplomacy in the recipe."

She just sighs, feeling your caresses and lets her guard down, feeling naked and vulnerable, nerves in the air and in your sight "I know, it was selfish of me to push her away, save her from what would end up like us"

"acknowledging it is the first step, Kino has already spoken to you and her sister, all that remains is to give that head of yours time my love."

Ambessa never knows how you can love her, weapons, blood and death, trouble recognizing her own feelings, and a fierce strength to keep her family alive, her clan but, well she wants to bathe in your love, receive your caresses and delicacy. Only you have seen this vulnerable side and yet you love it. You have seen her crying after her first war, when she came back with blood on her hands and partially broken psyche, but you were there holding her tight despite the size difference, you held her all night long letting her cry until, she became the warlord she is now.

"...Will you be with me there when I talk to Mel?"

"I'll never leave you Bess, you married me and you'll never get rid of me in hell."

And if Ambessa was true to herself, heaven, hell and earth, she always wants to be with you. With loving softness which she professes only to you, she holds your wrist kissing your pulse sliding the kisses down to your finger where a red gold ring in the shape of a vine with a crystalline diamond adorns your ring finger above the black band, she made those rings herself and you never take them off your hands.

"Then I'm in luck, because I never want to leave you."

➤ Renata Glasc. 

He knows the feeling of climbing from the depths of mud, garbage and waste to position himself at the top of the city of iron and glass, installing a house in Piltover that became the central in medicine, cost horrors but here he was today controlling Zaun from the clouds and among the light air which does not make the lungs tremble. She grew at the expense of the misfortune of others, but, in Zaun is common and controls everything, leaving a certain slack to the rest of the barons and baronesses giving them the false sensation of power and freedom, to destroy them if she believes that they will put themselves in the same step where she is.

She is privileged to be at the top of the food chain in Zaun and Piltover, even if those pilties don't know it.

Many describe her as a cruel and cold woman, she is that and more. But, if his wife asked her to freeze hell she would do it. The only truth was, your wife was the one who possessed your purest and most sincere love which she has extracted from her cold chest just for you, leaving her heart in your flimsy hands. Therefore, he finds it fascinating to look at you, to admire your body, your silhouette and various expressions, your soft hands and how your skin no longer shows that sickly tone from lack of sun.

"Stop staring at me like that Ren" you say, in a soft whisper, shy like the first time he saw you.

"Darling it's impossible to stop looking at you, you are my wife and I love to admire you" Renata replies in a deep voice, approaching with fluid steps to you, where you gently place every little piece of mirror on the wall of her office, you were her little artist "...you are a natural artist and I love to see when you create all of this"

"You have always seen me, even when I graffitied the alleys of Zaun, one would think you would be bored by now" you say, gently taking each piece of mirror sticking it on the wall creating a scene and you feel Renata's mechanical hand on your hip which makes you sigh, you try hard not to think about what happened this morning at home, when she held you with that same mechanical arm so sleek and stylish yet strong pinning you against the bed and Renata devouring you

"I never tire of your creative process."

Renata rests her chin on your head, seeing every little piece of glass on the wall simulating like a fissure where you see a beautiful city, a Zaun you dreamed of and just kisses your hundred "one day I will make that Zaun come true."

I love you and I would give you hell, heaven, earth, the firmament just to make you smile, that's what he wants to say but he's silent when he sees your smile, your eyes full of love.

Renata can't imagine anyone else by her side but you.

➤ Cassandra Kiramman. 

If someone had told you in the past that you would end up married to the girl you came to hate (I didn't really, it was a gay panic actually) who brought you gray hairs with that joy and optimism, with her sweet, pleasant and kind smiles, with her concern, naked emotions, how you weren't afraid of feelings and showing them, that girl you hate in the past is currently your wife.

She is married to the love of your life and has a daughter with you.

He sighs softly, savoring the flower tea that he likes to drink and that you brought from your travels outside Piltover, a beautiful small flower enclosed in a bud, opaque and dry until it comes in contact with hot water blooming leaving the most beautiful flowers, and creating a sweet, delicious tea with a unique flavor. A box of tea that you always brought for her, without fail along with flowers, and books from other regions that she spends her nights reading. To tell the truth, the girl she hated in the past now made her happy, her cheeks hurt from smiling so much when you came on a trip and wrapped her in a tight hug, but every time she saw that scene it made her heart flip, it was as if you carved your name on her heart and soul.

"It's not fair mommy!" you hear a little childish voice squeal with indignation, it's in the middle of the huge garden with some dartboards a considerable distance away and the little girl stomps her little foot on the ground showing her anger "You let me win and I'll tell mommy!".

Cassandra feels her heart melt, as Caitlyn is held in her wife's arms and hears her laugh, it's impossible for Caitlyn to get so angry at her wife when you always get the giggles out of her to no end.

"I didn't let you win Caitlyn, you really won there" you point out in a soft voice once you leave her leaning on your hip looking at the targets and the rifle on the ground, an exact copy of yours because that's what your daughter wanted "You'll really be a good shot you know that?"

"Do you think so mom?" questions Caitlyn, small and bright-eyed to the max, expression cheerful and hopeful

"Of course I do honey, and when you grow up I'll make a rifle just for you" you promise with a smile, watching your daughter prance in your arms and you kiss her cheeks lovingly "A rifle just for you, just like you wanted."

Cassandra just smiles, watching the cute scene and how Caitlyn sees you with bright eyes, huge and hopeful, she loved her family even that woman who made her angry, who made her laugh until she cried and break her cold facade, make her heart beat wildly, but she is the woman she loves to see sleeping next to her, she simply loves her and she wouldn't change any of that.

His life is happy.

[br0kenangel]

𝐈 𝐇𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔: 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘢 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘈𝘦𝘨𝘰𝘯 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘳𝘦 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘪𝘮.

You enter slowly, the sound of your footsteps echoing in the silence. Aegon is there, kneeling, his figure hunched and broken, the chains around his neck rattling faintly as he stirs at the sound of your approach. He knows what's coming.

His eyes, bloodshot and hollow, flicker up to meet yours, and you can see the terror that fills him-terror of you, of what you might say or do next. The moment your gaze meets his, he flinches, instinctively shrinking back as far as the chains will allow, his body trembling. He's crying softly, those pitiful whimpers that have become so familiar to you, the ones that used to give you a thrill but now only deepen the madness swirling inside your head.

You kneel in front of him, a bowl of food in your hand, and for a moment, the room is silent, save for his ragged breaths. Slowly, you take a spoonful of the warm gruel and hold it to his lips. He stares at it, trembling, reluctant, and you sigh softly, like a mother disappointed in her child.

"Eat," you whisper, your voice eerily soft, almost tender. "You need your strength."

He hesitates, but when your eyes narrow, he obediently opens his mouth, letting you feed him like a helpless babe. His lips tremble around the spoon, and you watch with a cold kind of satisfaction as he swallows, his throat working painfully to get the food down. When a bit of it dribbles from the corner of his mouth, you're quick to wipe it away, your touch soft and delicate, like a caress.

"Good boy,' you coo, your voice syrupy sweet. "There we go. That wasn't so hard, was it?"

But he doesn't respond. He only flinches again when you raise another spoonful to his mouth. His tears are falling freely now, silent and pathetic, rolling down his pale, gaunt cheeks. You feed him slowly, each bite a drawn-out torture for him, as his body shakes and his eyes dart around in fear. He is nothing now. And that pleases you, but it also disgusts you.

"Do you know" you begin, your voice low, almost conversational, as though you're speaking to an old friend, "I wanted to kill you, even when you were just a boy."

He freezes at that, his eyes widening, the spoon halfway to his lips. The fear that ripples through him is palpable, and it thrills you in a way that makes your heart pound, but also fills you with a deep, aching hatred.

"Yes," you continue, slowly wiping a tear from his cheek, your fingers lingering on his skin. "You were always in the way, always there, like a shadow that tainted everything I loved. Even as a child, you were nothing but a stain on this world."

His breath hitches, and you can see the agony in his eyes. He wants to speak, wants to beg, but he's too scared. Good. You lean in closer, your lips brushing against his ear as you whisper, "When my daughter was born dead, I blamed you. Because of you, my sweet little girl never drew breath. Because of you, she never had a chance."

You feel him tremble, feel the shudder that runs through his frail body as the tears come harder now. He's sobbing quietly, brokenly, his head bowed as if he could somehow escape the weight of your words. But you don't stop.

"And Luke..." you hiss, your voice turning sharper, colder. "My sweet, precious Luke. He's dead because of you. His body was torn apart, his blood spilled, because you couldn't stay in your place. Because you had to take what wasn't yours."

Aegon lets out a strangled sob, his whole body shaking now, but you grip his chin, forcing him to look at you. Your eyes wild, crazed, as you hold him there, making sure he sees the hate burning in your gaze.

"Jace died because of you too," you spit, your voice trembling with rage. "Every time I think of his broken body, every time I see his face in my dreams, I know it's your fault. You killed him, Aegon."

He tries to look away, tries to shrink back, but you don't let him. You grab his face harder, your nails digging into his skin as you force him to face the truth, to face your hatred.

"And Daemon... my beloved Daemon. The love of my life. He's dead because of you!" Your voice rises, a scream of agony, of rage, as the memories of your losses crush you. Tears well in your own eyes now, but they're not like his. They're not born of fear or weakness. They're tears of fury, of a madness so deep you can't even distinguish it from your sanity anymore.

"I should gouge your eyes out,' you snarl, your grip tightening on his face. "I should cut out your tongue, break your bones, skin you alive, and make you suffer for everything you've taken from me."

Aegon sobs harder, his tears mixing with yours now as the room is filled with the sounds of his misery. His body shakes under your grip, and for a moment, you revel in it一the power, the control, the satisfaction of knowing you could destroy him completely, that you could end him with a single flick of your wrist.

But you don't. You can't. Not yet.

"No..." you murmur, your tone shifting, softening. Your hands release his face, and you gently stroke his hair, wiping away his tears with a tenderness that feels wrong, sickening. "No, I can't hurt you, Aegon. I want to, gods know I want to, but l can't."

He looks up at you, confused, desperate, as though hoping for some mercy in your twisted words. You smile at him, a broken, hollow smile, and run your fingers through his hair.

"You're all l have left," you whisper, your voice cracking with something too raw to name. "You're the only one who's still here. Everyone else is dead. Everyone I loved... everyone I hated.. they're all gone."

Aegon whimpers beneath you, and you stroke his cheek, shushing him softly, like a mother comforting a crying child.

"You keep me sane," you murmur, your voice distant, hollow. "You keep me from falling apart completely. Without you, I'd have no one. And as much as I despise you... as much as I hate you for everything you've done, I can't lose you too."

His sobs quiet, his tears still flowing, but there's a strange, twisted peace in your words. He knows now that there's no escape, no end to this nightmare. He is yours, and you are his, bound together by the madness that has consumed you both.

"You're mine, Aegon," you whisper, your lips brushing against his ear. "And l'm yours. We're all that's left. All we'll ever have."

He closes his eyes, his body limp in your hands, broken and resigned. You hold him close, your arms wrapping around him like a lover, like a mother, as you cradle him in your embrace.

And as the room falls silent once more, you know that this is all that remains- this dark, twisted bond that ties you together, a bitter reminder of all that was lost. But it's enough. For now, it's enough.

Part 1

@ 𝒃𝒓𝒐𝒌𝒆𝒏𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒍 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒. 𝒅𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒄𝒐𝒑𝒚, 𝒓𝒆𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒔𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒚 𝒐𝒇 𝒎𝒚 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒌𝒔 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒐𝒓 𝒂𝒏𝒚 𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒘𝒆𝒃𝒔𝒊𝒕𝒆𝒔.

[5iyoomi]

In Your Arms

warnings: lots of kissing/making out, size kink, possessive kags, fingering, fluff that'll make your teeth fall out, not proofread wc: 1.9k A/N: THIS CAME OUT SO LIKE.... TENDER??? And way longer than I imagined. I don't know man don't look at me okay. I'm just the messenger at this point

It’s not often that Kageyama gets to have you like this, underneath him with a knee between your thighs and the knowledge that he had you entirely to himself. Volleyball was something that kept him busy, even back in high school, but now?

Having gone professional with the sport barely left him any time for you. He knows you don’t really mind, that the both of you spend every free minute you have together right by each other’s side anyway, and yet he can’t help but wonder if you’d be happier with someone that could be there more often sometimes.

The fact that you were his never ceased to amaze him. He doesn’t know what sort of good deeds he must’ve done in a past life to be able to date someone as amazing as you. You were always so sweet to him, kind and understanding in ways that he still thinks he doesn’t deserve. 

But he’s the one you call out to, the one whose hand you reach out for when you want to feel close to him. He can’t possibly be any closer to you right now, your lips messily slotted together and body pressed flush against his, but he’d never deny you.

And it’s that thought that has him lifting both of your arms above your head, using one hand to gently hold your wrists as he interlocks your fingers. It makes you whine, your lashes fluttering and breath hitching whenever he grinds his leg against your clothed cunt.

The movie you’d put on earlier was nothing more than background noise now, quiet and muffled in comparison to the sounds of you making out. 

He softly nips at your bottom lip, and the moan you let out when he slides his tongue inside your mouth goes straight to his dick. 

It’s not like this is the first time he’s kissed you, but there’s something about the way you squirm that has him sucking on your tongue with more fervor.

He’d gotten taller over the years, stronger, and he'd never noticed how big the difference was until his fingers touched when they wrapped around your waist. 

Or how small you looked in his arms when he hugged you, your limbs tangled with his and the feeling of your heartbeat reverberating in his ears. 

It shouldn’t affect him as much as it does, but god it does. You’re so delicate, fitting perfectly with him the same way the final piece of a puzzle might. His, his, his.

He tightens the hand around you, determined to get you to make more of those pretty sounds for him. He kisses you slowly, lips syrupy like soft caramel as drool dribbles down the corner of your mouth, but he puts all the love and appreciation he has for you into it. 

You can hardly keep your eyes open, but you try to catch glimpses of him when you can. The dim light bounces off his blue eyes, and you almost forget how to breathe.

He’s calm. Focused. Sporting the same look on his face that he makes when he’s in the zone while he’s in the middle of a match. When formalities are thrown out the window and there’s nothing that can stand between him and whatever it is that he wants. You swallow.

“Tobio-” you whisper his name like it’s a prayer when he pulls away for a moment to catch his breath, the string of saliva connecting you just barely snapping with the small distance he puts between you. But he doesn’t move, watching your chest rise and fall in quick succession. 

Your lips are plump and red from him kissing you so much, minutes turned into hours of him picking you apart bit by bit. Unhurried squeezes and silent confessions of love replaying in your mind, even now.

You used to feel exposed beneath his gaze, stuck wondering what sort of things were running through that mind of his. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t still feel that way, but it’s different, because you know exactly what he means to say even if it’s something that’s left unspoken.

Kageyama blinks, leaning back down to kiss your cheek before making his way to the area between your neck and your jawline, taking in the unmistakable smell of you. 

His tongue darts out to catch the beads of sweat that fall down your skin, a cool hand snaking under the hem of your (his) old t-shirt and splaying itself flat on your stomach.

You jolt, but he distracts you from it by sucking a mark onto your neck, the tiny stab of pain from his teeth overshadowed by the pleasure. 

You whimper, lifting your head up to give him more room to work with and trying to close your legs to alleviate the warmth radiating from your core. 

But he keeps you open, amused that you’d try to hide from him. He wants to see you, all of you, and he’ll make sure he’s able to.

He shifts back to admire his handiwork, letting go of you to lightly press his thumb on the bruise he left. You rest your hands on his broad shoulders, and he watches as light pink gradually blooms into a bright red, your pupils dilated when his eyes drift up to meet yours. You take a deep breath and part your lips to say something, but he beats you to it.

“You’re so pretty, you know that?” He tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear, the hand that’s on your stomach moving to toy with the button of your shorts. His short head of dark hair is mussed and out of place, some pieces awkwardly sticking out, and you have the sudden urge to fix it for him. “What did I ever do to deserve you?”

You shake your head, cupping his face in both of your hands and smiling. “I should be the one asking you that. You’re too good to me, Tobio.”

“Mm-mm, that’s all you.” He mutters, and you can tell he means it. He’s always been relatively blunt, struggling with what to say and how to say it, but you know he tries. His fingers dip just past the waistband of your shorts, except he doesn’t go any further. Not yet. “Can I?-” He trails off, looking at you for confirmation.

You nod, feeling that warmth spread to your cheeks. It didn’t matter how many times he made love to you, he never failed to ask you before he did anything. 

It was a small thing, really, but it meant everything to you. Just like he meant the entire world to you, so there’s nothing but pure want laced in your tone when you say, “Yeah.”

He hums in response, idly running a hand up and down your side. Deft fingers undo the button to your shorts with the zipper quickly following. He keeps his eyes trained on you, searching your own for a reaction and tracing lazy shapes into your skin.

You lift your hips up to make it easier for him to drag the fabric down your plush thighs, letting them fall somewhere on the living room floor. 

He hooks his thumb under your panties next, and you think the anticipation might burn you from the inside out, heat coming off you in waves and your nails unconsciously digging into the shirt covering his back once they’re finally off.

He inhales when he sees the amount of slick that clings to them, experimentally parting your folds and running a thick finger up your slit. A feather light touch, unintentionally teasing and not nearly enough.

“Tobi-” You writhe, throwing your head back on the pillow that’s propped up on the arm of the couch.

“I know-” He gulps, adam’s apple visibly bobbing with the effort. He chews on the inside of his cheek, ignoring the way his pants are starting to strain uncomfortably. “I know, I got you.”

He starts with one, gradually working it into your waiting hole, staring at how your mouth drops open the deeper he goes. He curls it, seeking out that spongy spot inside you that he knows will make you cry for him, your wetness only serving to help his movements.

He’s transfixed by the sight of his finger disappearing inside of your pussy, the digit glistening in the dark with every languid thrust, and he’s looking at you like you hung all the stars in the night sky just for him, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. 

Shaky moans roll off your tongue like clockwork, so he slides another one in beside the first, careful not to take it too fast. You shiver, curling your toes with the stretch.

Kageyama knows he’s found it when he presses more insistently and your hips buck up, chasing that friction he’s giving you while one of your hands comes to grab at his wrist. 

You’re making a mess, slick dripping down his fingers and making loud, squelching noises that you should be embarrassed about, but he doesn’t seem to care.

He wants you to feel good, to not think you have to hold back in his presence. It’s why he finds that his own pleasure doesn’t matter, not while he hasn’t taken care of you yet. 

He’d rather make you cum 20 times over before he even thinks about himself, buried between your thighs with your fingers in his hair until you can’t think of anything and anyone else but him.

He pumps in and out of you a little faster, rubbing your g-spot while his palm brushes your sensitive clit, and in the back of your mind you realize that you aren’t gonna last long like this. 

He groans when you clench around his fingers, sucking him in even deeper than he already is. He kisses away the tears that threaten to fall down your cheeks, murmuring your name and telling you how good you were taking him in time with the third finger that elicits a high-pitched gasp from you.

You wrap an arm around his neck to keep him right where you want him, your faces mere inches apart, and you somehow manage to get the words out despite the cloud of lust making it difficult to talk.

“Mmn… K-kiss me, please, Tob-”

He cuts you off before you can finish, tilting your chin up so that he can press his mouth against yours again. It’s a bit more sloppy than the first, but still calculated, and he feels more than sees you shudder when he takes your bottom lip between his teeth.

That familiar knot in your stomach keeps building up, and you don’t have the chance to warn him that you’re close before you’re trembling in his arms, back arching off the sofa and brows furrowing as you cum around his fingers. 

He slows down, drinking up every cry you let out and letting you ride out your orgasm. It takes you a minute to catch your breath, pouting when he eases his wet fingers out of you and drops one last peck to your lips.

The sudden emptiness leaves you reeling as you bask in the afterglow, desperate for more and fighting the pulling need to fall asleep. 

You don’t register what’s happening outside of the comfortable weight of his frame not being on yours anymore, and after a second you look to see him slinking down until he has his head dangerously close to your core.

“W-wait, what are you-”

He shushes you, calloused hands shifting to throw your legs over his shoulders. His breath fans across your pussy, his thumbs spreading you open, and you jump, clasping a hand over your mouth.

“Just one more, okay?”

[heartfullofleeches]

Sheep readers who eat some random citizen who with me????

Sheep would never eat people- Those are their friends, and besides- Sheep is just an innocent sheep.

-

"Do you ever have cravings, Sheep?"

A fine film of sugar congeals at the bottom of your glass. You count four spoons laid out for you on the table - anxiety settling in the pit of your stomach like the syrupy sweetness sitting unstirred in your tea. For the life of you, you couldnt tell one from the other. Something tells you Rabbit would be more than happy to teach you a third time, but you'd rather not overstay your welcome.

"Cravings...." Concealing the shakes of your hands with a well timed laugh, you lift the cup to your lips - voice shrinking as you take a sip. "What kind of... cravings?"

Rabbit stirs their spoon around the rim of their cup. There's nothing left, but it's best for them to keep their hands distracted. "Cranberries.... They don't grow in our part of the woods. Every year, this nice squirrel and their family comes into town and sells them near the shops. That's my special craving - one of them anyway. What's yours?"

Rabbit gazes up at you, expectingly. Almost like they know. Your eyes drift to the slice of cake on your plate - the cranberry jelly oozing from its fluffy center. Your stomach howls, yet the sweet scent of baked goods twists that hunger into nausea.

"I - I don't have any..."

Rabbit looks.... disappointed. "Oh. I see... You know, if you did, I'd travel to the moon and back to get it for you? I love your smile, Sheep. I'd do anything to see it. You deserve to smile more often."

[vampcubus]

𝐊𝐍𝐘 𝐏𝐄𝐓 𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄 𝐇𝐂𝐒

:ఌ¨ ♱ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒 : kyojuro, tanjiro, and zenitsu.

:ఌ¨ ♱ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 : reader is implied to be fem, the term "wife" is used!

𝐊𝐘𝐎𝐉𝐔𝐑𝐎 𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐆𝐎𝐊𝐔

— As much as pet names make his heart soar, he melts when you call him by his first name. The tender way your lips form around each syllable as if his name was something so dear to you. It makes his stomach flip every time you utter it. Kyojuro. Kyojuro. Kyojuro~ nothing sets his heart ablaze quite like your adoring voice echoing his name back to him.

— He’s Rengoku to most that know him, big brother to Senjuro, but to you he’s just Kyojuro. Your Kyojuro.

— However, there are some pet names that get those butterflies going: my love, honey, baby—something about being called baby makes him soften visibly. He gets that wet smile on his face and big eyes that say, Yes that’s me.

— He really really likes it when you call him “husband” there’s something so domestic and coy about it that makes his heart flutter. 

“Husbanddd, I require your assistance!” You often shout to him from the other room when you need help with something, and whether it’s simply a dish from a high shelf or a piece of furniture that needs to be moved, he pops his head into the room with an enthusiastic “Yes, wife!?”

(He especially likes it if you aren’t married yet, so when you teasingly call him “husband” it sounds like a promise.)

— Kyojuro has a multitude of pet names for you! He thinks your name is beautiful but he only calls you it when he’s feeling serious. Prepare to adopt second names by the day. 

— Names such as: my love, my flame, my heart’s fire, darling flame, my heart.

— And if he’s feeling particularly syrupy? He'll sing out names like sunflower and sunshine. cus you’re the ever-glimmering light of his life 🥺

— Everything that comes out of this man’s mouth sounds like a declaration of love.

— Another one he’s fond of is little flame.

“I’m not so little!“ you’d proclaim, making a face as he pats your head affectionately.

“Compared to me you are!” he’d laugh with his whole chest, teeth showing as he tosses his head back in glee.

— And even if you’re taller than him (which I’m sure he’d find incredibly enchanting, being able to rest his head on your shoulder and standing on his tippy toes to kiss you) you’re still his cute little flame.

𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐉𝐈𝐑𝐎 𝐊𝐀𝐌𝐀𝐃𝐎

— He’s pure as they come when it comes to romance; shy but loyal to a fault! Tanjiro is a little clueless on how to go about the whole relationship business being so sheltered, all of his knowledge of courting rituals and such he observed from his parents (and they weren’t around very long to teach him 💀)

— Tanjiro honestly loves to call you by your name. He thinks it’s pretty and suits you perfectly. It took a great deal of conditioning to convince him it was alright to call you by your first name. To call you by your first name feels like an honor, so naturally, he’d want to utter it as often as you’d allow. 

— You can’t help but love the way he almost whispers it like a precious secret between you. His gentle voice always takes on an adoring quality when he says your name, every syllable honeyed and reverent.

— Tanjiro’s pet names are sickeningly sweet things like: sweetheart, flower, beautiful, and petal.

Nothing better than waking up to his kind gaze already trained on you, a muttered “good morning, beautiful.” against your temple as you’re still stirring from sleep. He gets that lovesick puppy look on his face when you reply with, “good morning to you too, handsome.”

— Tanjiro would let you call him anything you wanted, no matter how silly. You can’t go wrong with a cute shortening of his name like Tanji or a simple “my love” if you’re feeling sappy—and with such a loving partner as Tanjiro, wouldn’t you? He loves you so passionately it’s hard not to let the syrupy pet names fall like rain when he looks at you like that.

— His favorite though? Honey. Something about it just makes his brain turn to mush, he’d do anything for you when you call him that.

“Tanjiro honey, the bathroom door’s stuck shut again!” You’d holler, bouncing a fussing child with one hand and trying to pry the stubborn door open with the other. 

He’s at your side in seconds, wrenching the door open with considerable force. You sigh in relief, smiling when you feel his lips against your cheek, and watch as he shushes your child by simply stroking a thumb over their forehead.

“Thank you, honey,” you sighed, planting your own kiss to your husband’s cheek. He only beams, holding the door open for you and scooping your child into his own arms to let you have some much-needed alone time. 

𝐙𝐄𝐍𝐈𝐓𝐒𝐔 𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐀

— I think it’s pretty obvious that Zenitsu is an avid pet name enjoyer, both giving and receiving! 

— He struggles not to shorten your name or replace it entirely with sugary pet names before you’re even official. And once you are irrevocably his? Prepare to forget your real name because you’ll never hear it from him again. Y/n? Who’s that?

— Your new names include: dearest, my love, sweetie, angel, peach blossom, sugar, honey—the list goes on and on! 

— His pet names only get sillier and sappier, but you’ll never have a dull moment with him that’s for sure. Zenitsu also uses the silly ones to make you laugh and can you blame him? It's his favorite sound <3

— Zenitsu doesn’t expect you to pick up his habit and start calling him your own sweet names.

— The first time you called him sweetheart his head whipped around so fast, eyes sparkling as he looked left and right, pointing to himself to ensure you were speaking to him. And when you nod he nearly bursts into joyous tears, fists clinging onto your kimono. It’s the first time he’d been given a sweet name, he can’t help blubbering his approval into your clothes.

— Zenitsu turns to mush before your eyes for any pet names, but his personal favorites to be called are: sweetheart (he melts every time), my love, my heart, and baby—that name in particular makes him get all misty-eyed and following after you like a puppy (another name I HIGHLY recommend calling him)

— Definitely soft for being called “husband.” it reminds him that he’s found someone that isn’t going to give up on him. No matter how many times he cries or falters; you’ll always be right there by his side. And then of course being married is his ultimate fantasy, so he can’t help but puff up with pride when you refer to him as your husband.

— Call him “pretty boy” and he’ll actually die. local man found dead in the marketplace after being called pretty by his own wife.

— it gets to a point where he grimaces when you use his actual name like who tf is Zenitsu? He’s sweetheart? He’s baby? 🤨

[vixensp1ce]

them as japanese p rn tropes pt. 2

fem!reader / pt. 1 (childe and blade)

aventurine

he inhales through his mouth as if trying to consume your scent, whimpering and whining like a vocal little puppy.

"good boy," you praise, scratching his head lightly. his narrows his eyes in pleasure, leaning into your hand, and you dip your head by his other ear, running your tongue over it, nipping at the sensitive area behind it.

"mmh," he mumbles. "so good..."

his hands knead at your sides, keeping you pressed up against him. you're so soft and gentle with him that sometimes he wonders if he even deserves it.

"penny for your thoughts?"

"i love you," he replies without a second thought, then hesitates and opens his eyes to see your reaction.

"you do? i don't believe you." you smile faintly, releasing him from your hold and reclining back onto the bed. "why don't you show me?"

he follows you closely, missing your warmth already, nuzzling into your stomach, leaving kisses as he makes his way down.

aventurine's mouth is on you even before he's tossed aside your underwear, hungry and wanting. he sucks lightly on your clit, earning himself a sweet sound that spills from your lips, before moving lower to the real prize.

your little hole is already clenching and unclenching, weeping syrupy arousal. his dick jumps in his pants, and aventurine leans back briefly to undress, leaving you both bare.

he moans as soon as he tastes you on his tongue, sliding past your inner lips and into your silky wetness. the vibrations have your toes curling, your back arching, and you whine just the same way he had moments ago.

jing yuan

you're curled up on his lap, ass massaging his bulge just right, and still, he pays you no attention.

you lay your head on his shoulder, giving him your best puppy-dog eyes. he chuckles and kisses you on the forehead, but returns to his work without another blink.

"yuan," you complain. he'd just gotten back from a work trip, and he was still working?

your pussy throbs from lack of attention. you miss him, you need him, and you want him to stop playing games and fuck you already.

"hm?" he strokes your hair with his free hand. "what is it?"

his dick twitches as you grind down on it, so there's no way he doesn't know what you want. unless...

you bite back a sigh, your pride rearing its head unhappily.

"yuan, pl-please... fuck me, i missed you..."

his hips jump up, giving you friction in just the right spot. you gasp, feeling your nipples harden immediately.

"just what i wanted to hear, darling." a thumb slides between your legs to stroke along your clothed slit. "but i'm almost done, so be patient, yeah?"

you can't even protest, whimpering as he rubs circles over your clit. you can feel yourself clenching and unclenching around nothing at all, your underwear soaked through with your arousal. he brings a damp finger up to his face, inhaling deeply.

"good girl," he purrs, and suddenly you're hoisted into the air. "you've been so patient for me, you deserve a reward."

[ipegchangbin]

— breed minho.

🏷️ sub!boypussy!minho, dom!male!reader. condom breaking (unprotected sex). creampie. breeding kink & pregnancy threats (as a kink).

playing it safe is always wise. the both of you trust each other with no shadow of a doubt that you’ll have enjoyable and safe sex. the love that you shared would never falter, even in bed.

so, when something goes wrong, it doesn’t turn out horribly for minho.

even putting the condom on your cock seemed to spur your boyfriend on, leaving his cunt soaking wet. perhaps it was the mere sight of your length or the fact that the rubber struggles to fit you every single time. you have to be the one to repeat “i’m fine” every single time you put it on, because shit, the damn thing always looks like it’s suffocating your cock.

it doesn’t take minho much to love you even through the rubber, though. he can still feel every inch of you inside him, feel how your veins pulse against his tight pussy’s walls. you two have always done it this way, safe and secure and deliciously sweet with the lovemaking. minho shies away just thinking about it, but he doesn’t escape your reassuring kisses to ground him back into the action.

thrust. minho’s body moves up with the bed as you push yourself down on his plush walls. thrust. your boyfriend’s eyes roll back as he lets out a pathetic, syrupy whine. thrust. your grunts sound like an angel’s song, a blessing to minho who always craves to listen to your voice since it simultaneously stimulates his ears and his poor little pussy. you thrust and thrust with no intention of stopping.

minho claws at your back, attempting to cage your hips in with his legs. he whines your name like a helpless mantra or a prayer, he isn’t sure and he can’t think. you thrust, you go faster, and minho’s cries escalate in pitch.

snap.

“huh?”

you stop your hips with a sudden pullout, examining the split condom on your swollen cock.

“n-no, put it back—” minho’s protests are cut off by your concerned huff.

“it broke. i’ll get a new one,” you suggest, before your boyfriend’s hands appear on your dick. he aligns it back to his pussy, not caring about the feeling of the ripped rubber on his hands.

“d-don’t care.” he pants and that’s when you notice how watery his eyes are. his pussy is extra wet, hole twitching with an ache to be filled by you again.

his orgasm is as ruined as the broken condom.

in reality, there’s nothing more that he craves than to be bred. he shoots you a knowing gaze with a severely contrasting pout. it’s similar to the look he has when you put the condom on; he’s hungry, yes, but always yearning for what seemed to be more.

and now, he’s pleading to have you raw. you smirk, teasing the boy by ripping the condom fully off your stiff cock.

you craved this moment as much as he did.

“aren’t you a hungry little boy?” your hips seem to move on their own, cock entering minho’s cunt all in one swift push at your last syllable.

“y/n!” minho almost screams. god, he’s so warm, his juicy walls hitting your cock directly. the wetness makes you slide in so easily that you only grow harder, but the velvety soft and tight feeling engulfs you with a warm comfort.

you both moan and pull each other impossibly closer. minho kisses you first, practically forcing his mouth onto you. you can’t help but smile into the kiss before pulling your hips back and slamming back in.

“i-it’s so good,” minho whimpers. “want y/n to…”

“…breed you?”

he whines loudly at that. his hands are firmly cemented on your back, nails leaving catlike scratches on your skin. he wants you, all of you, from your raw cock down to your cum.

“looks like someone’s needy.”

you lift your upper body, straightening your back and holding minho by his thighs. he unfortunately can’t cage you with his arms like this, leaving him cutely helpless. he attempts to hide his face at first before settling on clawing the sheets.

the thrusts that come after the readjusted position are unusually rough and fast. it’s ragged and you could do better but fuck, it feels too good to keep hitting minho’s sweet spots. one of your hands snakes down to his pussy. your thumb finds his clit and presses down, sending a thunderstorm of shocks down minho’s arched back.

it feels like hell for minho’s pussy. you could hear sinful squelches of his insides being corrupted by you over and over. you fill him up and then you don’t, your cock hitting past his sweet spot all up against his limit and it leaves minho wide-eyed in a cute shocked expression you’ve never seen before. it’s hell but it’s heaven, his juices telling you that he wants you and more.

you don’t know what overcomes you the second you open your mouth to speak.

“want me to knock you up so bad?”

he nods. then he whines and drools and whips his head from side to side as he tries to contain himself from an impending orgasm. he wants to make sure that you’ll be true to your word. “wanna get pregnant,” he cries out to you repeatedly.

he’s so fucking into it. he spills a bit of his cream right onto your cock, almost like he’s about to cum. he’s ready to breed. he wants to be bred. he yearns to be bred, especially by you.

it’s not much until a moment passes and you’re riled up yourself, going harder and faster as your thrusts alternate from bullet fast to whole. his cunt seems to cage you in, tightening even more, and the sensations of raw and unbothered touch leaves you both heaving, screaming, and—

“y/n!”

you cum deep inside minho’s pussy. minho creams on your cock.

you both still in place, groaning out your next breaths before pulling each other into a close hug and kiss.

exhausted, you almost collapse on top of minho, but your arms catch you. your boyfriend chuckles lightly but hums after. you look up at him and press a hand down on him abdomen, making him whine and feel the head of your cock pushing against his limit.

“liked that?”

minho smiles. “loved it. we should do that more often.”

he doesn’t mind if you’ll get him knocked up for sure. he trusts you. if he doesn’t, that’s fine too. you both laugh at the sight of the discarded remains of the broken condom in the trash.

at least he’s safe with you.

[strawberrystepmom]

NSFW - MDNI. pro hero deku and f!reader are married. size kink if you squint.

“You like that, don’t you baby?”

Whatever response you may have been able to manage, considering the angle that your thighs are currently pressed against your torso, dies as soon as Izuku shifts inside of you. The response turns into a nod and your big eyes flash up at him, perfect and beautiful and his favorite sight. There’s nothing more perfect than you, than this and his own groans are interspersed with deep chuckles coming from his chest.

“I know you do, you don’t have to say it.”

Leaning his weight forward and onto his palm that is planted on the mattress beside your head and drilling his cock so deeply into you that you are shocked there is any room left for him to rut into. He is deep, even when you consider his impressive size and girth, and each thrust leaves you almost breathless. Your eyebrows knit together and you glance up at him in the way that he likes best, his cock jumping inside of you in response.

He won’t let that one go, though. This is about you and reminding you how good you feel and are. How you are all his and you were made for him and him only.

Sliding the hand he is using to hold your thighs up toward your hand, he lets his body do the work instead and props your feet on his shoulders to keep you bent in half. Grasping your hand in his big one, he pulls your arm toward his mouth as gently as a dream and kisses the back of your hand before placing it over your womb, using his own hand to press down on where he is moving inside of you.

“Press here,” he urges and you manage to add your own pressure even with the syrupy feeling in your limb caused by pleasure, moaning and letting your eyes flutter shut as soon as you feel his girth working beneath your skin. He has to be kissing your cervix, the crown of his cock edging into the space that has only ever been his. “Feel me baby?”

You feel him, you see him, you love him. Your husband, a man as soft as he is strong and big despite how eagerly he is fucking into you.

“I love you, Izuku.”

Your words are a rushed babble and he leans down while angling his hips so that he’s as deep as he possibly can be. He’s absolutely fucking your cervix now and you moan and grunt against his lips, matching his own muses that are spilled into your mouth.

He has given you more love than you imagined possible and somehow there is even more stored inside of his big body, the same one that is holding you in place while he fucks you like a man with a singular purpose. He is. When he’s in this bed his purpose is you, when he’s out of it his purpose is protecting you and making the world a place worthy of your presence.

“Cum for me. I wanna feel you.”

There aren’t many demands he makes but when he makes them, he means them and you oblige him happily. The sweet clench of your perfect fit walls around him is all he needs as he continues to thrust into you wildly, your hand still pressed against exactly where he’s at serving as a reminder of the space he occupies that is more than just your heart.

[seaspringangel]

a place along the flowers — tartaglia

summary: you give your loving boyfriend the greatest birthday gift of all time in a field of flowers.

word count: 1.9k

content warnings: fem!reader ✦ reader wears a dress ✦ childe is called by his birth name ✦ outdoor sex ✦ fingering ✦ biting ✦ creampie ✦ some possessiveness ✦  pet names (love / good girl / baby) ✦ childe is a needy feral freak but that’s why we love him 

notes: belated bday gift for the ginger-haired menace <3

In the summer haze, Ajax laid his head in your lap and breathed you in.

Flowers surrounded the both of you, but to him, you were the meadow's loveliest one, a perfect bloom for his flaming, hungry teeth to tear into.

Because for every berry he ate from your fingers, Ajax was determined to leave behind a small, stinging nip with his teeth, soothing each little nick with nectar-sweetened kisses.

“If you keep on doing that,” you grumbled down at him, his long legs stretched out in the long grass without a care, “I’m shoving these berries down your throat and leaving you here.”

Ajax grinned up at you then, his smile as saccharine as the berry juices staining the corner of his mouth, a celebration of summer blotted much like blood.

“Sorry,” he murmured, but his tone was as light as the summer breeze playing in his hair. “Guess I’m too hungry.”

You squished his face, making his freckles bunch together like a cluster of starry apples. Ajax only peered up at you innocently, his eyes sparkling. He truly was as adorable as he was irritating, and you thought about taking a bite out of him as revenge, but you knew doing that would only thrill him into acting up even more. 

“And annoyingly spoiled. You’re lucky it’s your birthday,” you snapped, but you still dutifully lowered a berry to his lips, waiting. Ajax wasted no time, darting his tongue out and licking the treat from your sticky fingers—no better than a starving dog that wanted nothing more than to shred your flowered dress into pretty ribbons and clutch the ruined tatters as a prize between his salivating teeth. 

But even when your boyfriend acted this greedy, you couldn’t help but feel something unspooling inside you—something syrupy and warm, as if you were laying in a patch of cozy sunlight.

Until you felt his damn teeth nip at you again.

You quickly retreated your fingers from his maw and clamped a hand over his mouth. You glared down at him. “Next birthday, you're getting a muzzle.”

But Ajax knew how to soften you up just as he knew how to agitate you. He pressed a kiss as soft as petals to your palm, and you felt yourself unfurl, warmth spreading sweetly and slowly like honey through your veins. 

Ajax then grabbed your hand and kissed the inside of your wrist, feeling the lively thrum of your pulse against his lips. “And keep me from kissing you everywhere? I didn’t know you could be so cruel.”

You roll your eyes, but that doesn’t stop the blood from rushing to your cheeks; that doesn’t stop him from peppering more kisses on your arm, looking up at you adoringly. “You know, there’s a certain gift you could still give me before it gets dark and we head home…”

Heart fluttering at his suggestion, you watch the sun sink behind the hills, slowly blanketing the world in silky shadow. “And what makes you think you deserve that?” you scoffed.

One second you watched the sky brighten with the glitter of lantern lights; the next second your world was blurring over, and your boyfriend was hovering above you, trapping you beneath him. 

Backlit by the fading golden light, Ajax’s eyes were clouded with devotion and desire for you, bluer than the sky he mounted you under. You felt his hardness against your thigh, felt his cock throb against you, and your stomach became alight with a thousand crystalflies. “I think I can work for it,” he said, smiling down at you and you feel yourself warm instantly.

When Ajax smiled at you, it was like the sun shining beyond the white fleece of clouds. 

Dimpled, warm, and sweet, he had that boyish smile that leaves golden dust over everything like a ray of sunshine, making the day much brighter and your heart so much warmer. 

But he also had a smile that could burn hot enough to start a forest fire—flickering and wild and unrestrained, but still so beautiful that you couldn’t help but lift your palms to feel the scorching heat kiss your flesh. 

When he looked at you with that kind of reverence blacked by the flames of his hunger, you didn’t have the strength to deny him what he wanted; so when he requested to eat berries from the palm of your hand, you indulged him, and when he began to stroke you from your knee up to your thigh with bruising fingers, you let him; and now, when he yanked at the ribbons that tied the bodice of your dress together in his fervent quest to fuck you in the warm, darkening air of the meadow, you had no choice but to grant him his wish.

After all, he was the birthday boy, and who were you to keep the present he yearned for the most away from him?

Ajax's kisses left a fire trail, open-mouthed and searing, from your collarbones to your neck to your lips. You moaned as he roughly palmed your breasts through your dress, and you felt his urgency, his utter hunger, burning beneath his skin like an inferno. 

“I’ve been waiting for this all day,” Ajax groaned against your mouth, a desperate, sultry hymn that made your heart race and heat rush to the aching place between your thighs, already weeping with your desire. “I’ve been wanting you all day.” 

Trapped in the arms of your wild lover, the one who’ll scatter your sweetness among the grass like petals, Ajax tore your dress down, exposing your breasts to his mouth. It was like a feast, with him latching onto one nipple and sucking and biting until it bruised plum purple like the night sky before repeating the same action to the other. Pain and pleasure sparked to life in you like the lantern lights up above, twinkling gemstones encrusting the night sky.

When his fingers slid into you, you gasped into his mouth; his strokes were fast and vicious but electrifying, pushing deep inside of you and hitting that heavenly place that yearned for his brutal caress the most. You felt hot all over as if you had swallowed the sun. But Ajax was the sun, igniting you from within, his touch and kisses spreading like wildfire over your body. You desperately wanted to be consumed; you wanted to be razed down, leaving nothing behind but shifting ash at his feet. 

And you did melt away to nothing beneath him, your vision flashing white and bright when your body shook as you came undone upon his fingers, pearling them with your wetness. You clung to him, trying to catch the breath that he stole. 

“Ajax, please, please,” you whimpered, and Archons above, you wanted him inside you; you wanted him to sink so deeply into you that you didn’t know where he ended and where you began, entwined forever with each other in this hazy summer dream.

Ajax chuckled, nuzzling against the crook of your neck. "Please, what, love? What do you want me to do to you?” 

You were not above begging at this point. “I want you to fuck me, please. I need you.” You ground your hips against him in need, but Ajax just looked down at you, his sunny smile edged with something darker. 

“Wanna clean me up first?” He said, brushing the fingers that were inside of you against your lips, urging your mouth open, your wetness shimmering on them, an opalescent string catching the light from the moon, much like precious dew drops clinging to a flower.

You opened your mouth and took in his fingers, your essence coating your tongue with its husky sweetness. Ajax groaned as he felt your tongue wrap around them, hungrily licking him clean with grazes of your teeth. You were no better than him from moments earlier; you both were wild, wanton things that desired nothing more than to bite the hand that fed you. 

Letting go of him with a lewd pop, Ajax’s fingers were shining bright with your saliva, and he reverently rubbed his lips against them, leaving behind a gleaming shine of your essence on his mouth. 

“Good girl,” Ajax murmured, kissing your forehead softly. “You taste sweeter than berries.” His fingers gently caressed your wet folds, his eyes dark with wonder. “You’re already so wet for me. You want me that badly, huh? Do you know how much I want you?”

He grabbed your hand and pressed it firmly against his crotch, making you feel the hardness of his cock beneath your palm, the precum dampening the fabric of his pants. With his guidance, you unbuckled and pulled down his pants, revealing what you craved most—his cock, red and weeping at the tip, desperate for the sweet relief only you could give him.

Lifting your legs onto his shoulders, Ajax’s grin burned bright, full of ravenous, flaming need. “I want everything to hear how much you want me,” he growled, lining himself up at your entrance. “From the sky to the trees to the flowers, I want everything to hear how much you need me.”

Ajax thrust into you abruptly, roughly, passionately, and you arched your back at the intense pleasure of finally, finally being filled to the point of breaking. His body covered yours, pinning you beneath him like a pressed flower, attempting to envelop you completely.

“You feel so good,” Ajax breathed deliriously against your neck, thrusting as deep as he possibly could into you, bottoming out before pulling back to go even deeper. “You’re so fucking tight.”

His name escaped your lips in strangled gasps as you sank your nails into his shoulder blades, overwhelmed by the warm air licking at your burning flesh, the pleasant friction of the flowers and grass scratching your back beneath you, of Ajax’s cock thrusting ruthlessly into the depths of your slick walls as you rocked against his brutal rhythm. 

The lewd sounds of wet skin against wet skin created a beautiful, sinful harmony with the wind whistling through the trees, filling you with a brightness that outshone the lantern lights sailing through the sky above, a destructive flame roaring to life within as you hurdled toward your climax.

Ajax growled a dark, thundering sound that sent shivers through you, making your walls clench even tighter around him. You could feel he was close, too—his muscles stiffening, his pace becoming more erratic and desperate. 

“Cum, baby, cum,” Ajax breathed in your ear as you babbled incoherently, your stomach tensing and tensing with pleasure, “Let yourself go, I got you, I always got you.”

And so you let yourself become undone. 

Vibrant, blinding colors spotted your vision as your orgasm seared through you, your bones melting away with what was left of your senses. Ajax unraveled too, long ropes of his cum coating your walls in its warmth and he bit down on your shoulder, burying the sounds of his release into your skin as his rutting into you slowed down. 

You vaguely felt the pain, but you might as well be weightless, your soul soaring away with the lanterns floating in the sky.

You felt Ajax’s love weep out of you, dribbling languidly down your thigh, wetting the earth beneath you. Ajax’s face swam into view, lovingly flushed. He collected his seed seeping from you with his fingers, spreading it around on your battered folds. “You’re so beautiful like this,” he whispered, entranced. “Beneath me where you belong, all my cum leaking out of you…”

Through the haze of your vision, you could see your blood blotted on Ajax’s mouth like a crimson cloud, and he licked the ichor from his lips as if were berry juices. 

tags: @tetsuskei ✦ @houseofsolisoccasum ✦ likes and reblogs are very much appreciated, i hope you enjoyed <3

[augustinewrites]

“your nose is running again.”

you shoot a glare at alhaitham’s reflection in your vanity, swiping at your nose and clearing your throat a few times before croaking, “it is not.”

“tch.” he has the audacity to look unimpressed with your lie, fiddling with the collar of the nice shirt you’d practically wrestled him into for tonight. “this happens every year, i don’t know why you keep trying to deny it.”

“there’s nothing to deny, because i’m a doctor and we don’t—” you pause, face scrunching when you feel a sneeze trying to fight its way out of your system. “— get sick.” 

so what if your throat was scratchy and your entire face felt hot with sinus pressure? one could claim it was allergies, not sickness. 

taking a seat to pull on his shoes, alhaitham only scoffs disbelievingly at you. he’s acting so smug, and maybe that’s because last week you’d ignored his warning about how cold nighttime in the desert got. or maybe because you refused to take the vitamin c tablets he put beside your coffee each morning because their texture was like that of chalk. 

before he can open his mouth and say these things, the sneeze you’d been fighting takes you by surprise. you immediately turn away and lift your elbow, sneezing into it not once, not twice, but five times in quick succession.

(okay, so maybe you were feeling a little under the weather.)

you turn away from the dresser with a sharp look in your eye, just daring him to let slip the i told you so that always seemed to be sitting on the tip of his tongue.

instead, you feel his fingers tugging at the laces of your dress and his lips pressing softly against your forehead. (too warm, you swear he murmurs.)

“we don’t have to go if you aren’t feeling well. nilou will understand. do you really want to be fighting a cold while you’re surrounded by a group of your friends—”

“our friends,” you correct with a sniffle.

he ignores you. “who are going to make you—”

“make us.” 

“—endure cake and small talk?”

you roll your eyes. for someone so fearsome, your husband really could be quite dramatic, brought to his knees by something as simple as cake and small talk. 

“we missed her performance last month because we were stuck with work, so we’re not missing her birthday.” you turn around to shove lightly at his shoulder. “and don’t think you can use my cold as an excuse to get out of this party.”

alhaitham pulls back to look down at you with an irritating combination of a scoff and a smirk on his lips. “ah, so you finally admit that you have a cold? maybe if you’d taken the vitamin c for your immunity like someone suggested...”

“those supplements taste like shit, haitham,” you cough, expression pinching as you recall the disgusting tablets that you’ve called ‘not as good as the real thing.’ “the only vitamin c i like is in those mondstadt imported sunsettias...”

“you’re like a child,” he scolds. “now get undressed and back in bed before—”

“undressed?” you question, swatting his hands away from your dress. “i’m going to the party.”

“no, you’re not.”

“what if i—”

“no.”

“but darling—”

“sorry, love, but you’re not going anywhere tonight,” he decides, ignoring your quiet grumbles of protest. “i know you don’t get sick often, but when you do it hits you pretty hard.”

he leaves the room briefly at that, returning with something sitting in his palm. 

you shake your head, holding your hands out to keep him back. “no. no! that stuff is worse than the vitamin c.”

“huh, if you’d taken that, then maybe you could have avoided this.” he hums, unscrewing the lid and letting that disgustingly sweet, syrupy scent flood the room. it was so potent that even you clogged sinuses could pick it up. “perhaps, doctor, one of these years you’ll learn to take your own advice. or perhaps listen to your husband’s…”

you lean backwards when he reaches for your chin. “haitham, if you make me drink that i will call the general mahamatra on you.”

“go ahead, he doesn’t scare me.”

he tries again, only for you to side-step his hand. “take your damn medicine!” 

“you’re not supposed to yell at a sick person!” 

“i’m not yelling. i’m simply insisting because you are being childish.”

maybe you were being childish, but that medicine was just so damn gross. “can i at least go down and say hi to everyone?” you try. “it’s been so long since i’ve seen them all.”

“fine, but only for ten minutes. and you have to take your medicine first.”

“but it always makes me sleepy,” you argue. “then you’ll be there enduring cake and small talk all by yourself.”

“it’s a birthday party, not a war. i think i’ll survive.”

you scowl at him, snatching the bottle and taking a gulp of the bitter liquid. “yeah, yeah. just wait until a drunk kaveh gets his hands on you and i’m not there to save you.”

the medicine starts taking effect almost instantly. you make it eleven minutes on your own feet before you’re clinging to alhaitham’s arm and leaning heavily into his side, nose still leaking and throat still tickling.

by then, all it takes is a single, ‘you don’t look too well’ from tighnari to convince alhaitham to drag you up into nilou’s spare room and into bed. 

too disoriented and drowsy to argue anymore, you thank him dazedly and reach out to pat his cheek before letting your eyes drift shut.

__________

you’re not too sure how long it’s been when you wakes, but when you pry your tired eyes open, there’s a tray of steaming food on your bedside table. the room is glowing and warm, the source being the flickering candle that alhaithm is reading his book under

he glances up when you shift in bed, closing his book. “feeling better?” 

“‘m not leaking anymore,” you shrugs, rubbing at the tip of your nose. “how long was i out for?”

“a little over two hours,” he answers, taking a seat at your bedside and pressing a hand to your forehead. “you’re not as warm as before. the medicine must be working.”

“yeah, well i still feel gross,” you mutter, not wanting to give that disgusting concoction too much credit.

“you look it, too.”

“the akademiya scribe,” you mutter, swinging your legs over the edge of the bed. “charming as ever.” 

he scoffs at that, scooping up the tray of food in one hand and offering you his other. “charming enough that the amurta darshan’s sage took my last name.”

“well, don’t let it get to your head,” you huff, taking his hand and letting him pull you to your feet. his thumb strokes your wedding band as he guides you to sit on a fur rug positioned in front of the fire. “pretty hard to say no to a guy that practically begs you to marry him.” 

“it was not begging—”

“haitham, dearest, that’s exactly what it was.”

you burst into a fit of giggles when he tells you to save it, his cheeks turning pink at the memory. your laughter quickly dissolves into a series of coughs, to which alhaitham pounds you on the back a little harder than necessary. 

“alright, you had your fun,” he murmurs, picking up a bowl of soup. “you need to eat something. i made your favourite,” he dips the spoon into the bowl. “i already picked out the cabbage,” he adds when you open your mouth to complain. 

unable to deny the slight rumble of your stomach, you reach for the spoon in his hand, pouting when he pulls it away. “i can feed myself,” you protest, voice hoarse from your coughing fit.

“the last time i let you feed yourself when you were sick, you sneezed and ended up throwing a spoonful of soup in my face,” he reminds you, the grim look on his face making it seem as if you’d stabbed him with the spoon instead. “open up.”

you narrow your eyes at the spoonful of soup. “it’s red,” you state. the original colour of recipe was a warm, almost translucent gold. 

“good to know your eyes are still working.”

“haitham,” you groan. “you know i don’t handle spice as well as you.”

“it’ll help clear up your sinuses,” he reasons, though there’s something teasing twitching at the corner of his lips. 

your body is wracked by another series of sneezes, each one stronger than the last, making him laugh.

“are you sure you’re done?” he teases, handing you a tissue.

“a good husband would just say, bless you,” you pout, blowing your nose and weakly tossing the soiled tissue at him. 

defeated by a clogged nose and a smug husband, you reluctantly open your mouth and let him spoon-feed you the eye-wateringly spicy soup. it slides down your throat like fire, and it…kind of does help with your sinuses and throat. 

you’d never admit that, though. it’s a new low you’ve discovered, a doctor taking medical advice from a semiotics major. 

the universe always finds ways to keep us humble.

when the bowl is half-empty and alhaitham is convinced you’ve eaten enough, he sets the bowl aside and wraps a blanket around your shoulders before he goes. your eyes are drooping again, the result of a warm blanket enveloping you and a satisfied stomach. 

he returns with a glass of water and a cool washcloth, gently pressing it to your forehead before situating himself behind you. “need anything else?”

letting yourself relax against his chest, you shake your head. his arms are warm around you, the steady sound of his heart and the soothing light of the candle slowly lulling you to sleep once more. 

“shouldn’t you get back to the party?” you murmur sleepily. but you’re already snuggling against him, hands curling greedily into the soft material of his shirt to keep him close.

“not particularly. i’ve already greeted nilou and done my share of…small talk,” he explains quietly. his small sigh is heavy, his posture deflating slightly. it wasn’t that he disliked your shared friends or their company, it was just that his social battery ran out faster than others, and without you there to keep him afloat? two hours was more than enough for him. 

“besides, i can’t exactly relax if i know that you’re up here positively suffering.” 

“you’re teasing me, but fine, i’ll let you stay.” 

no medicine or soup could do to you what a warm blanket and your annoying, teasing husband could for you, anyway.

[forever-rogue]

So I have this idea for a peter x reader. basically reader is really quiet and shes friends with Peter. anyway, she develops feeling for him but doubts that he'll ever feel the same and tries to hide it as much as possible. eventually when Peter tells her his feelings she laughs and thinks it's a joke like "how would u like me?" and Peter slows down sadly and is like "why would u think I'm joking?" and ends with just fluffy fluffy confessions and comfort <3

AN | Oh yes, one of my favorite tropes, aka Peter Parker confesses his love but you’re not buying it❤️

Pairing | tasm!Peter Parker x Fem!Reader

Warnings | Language

Word Count | 3k

Masterlist | Main | Peter

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You’d known Peter Parker for the latter part of twenty years. 

You’d known that you were in love with him for the last five years. You were pretty sure you’d been in love with him much longer than that, but realization hadn’t dawned on you just yet. 

The revelation had come to you out of the blue one evening when you were at home in your shared apartment, the two of you watching a movie. He didn’t even really do anything special, it just hit as you listened to him comment on random scenes throughout the movie. You were in love with him. 

But just as quickly as you had your breakthrough, you decided to push it to the side, compartmentalized to the back of your mind to decay there. You might have been helplessly in love with him, enamored and enraptured by him, but you would never tell him. 

There was absolutely no way that Peter would ever return your feelings, not even remotely. No, nope, nah. You were his best friend, and that’s all you would ever be. That was your destiny, and while you hated it, you hated the idea of a life without Peter even more. 

So, like some kind of self professed martyr, you decided to live with your secret. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Are you even paying attention?” you weren’t, not until Peter was waving his hand in front of your face, but he didn’t need to know that. You turned your attention back to him and gave him a tight lipped smile and even weaker nod. He laughed, sugar sweet and syrupy, “you’re lying!”

“Am not,” you huffed petulantly, poking around the food that was on your plate. Admittedly you’d lost your appetite and zoned out when Peter started talking about Kim from work and how she’d asked him out again. He insisted that he’d turned her down, again, but it didn’t cause that nagging feeling in the pit of your stomach to go away, “I couldn’t listen to another word out of your mouth, Parker. The sound alone could put me right to sleep.”

“Oh honey,” he took a sip of his drink, leaning back in his chair as he appraised you. You felt warm under his intent gaze, avoiding his eyes as you practically stared holes into the table, “we both know that’s not true.”

“How?” you snapped your gaze back to him, and found the most satisfied little smirk on his face.

“You wouldn’t have been friends with me for so long if you really thought that,” he leaned forward and shot you a wink, which caused you to almost melt into a puddle, “right?”

“You’re the worst,” there was nothing but an affectionate lilt in your words, “the absolute worst.”

“But you love me,” you knew it was meant as a friendly comment but you felt like your heart had just plummeted into your stomach. Did he know? He couldn’t know. 

“Whatever,” you took the cloth napkin off your lap and tossed onto the table. You were out at a nice restaurant, both of you dressed to the nines; it would have been easy to assume you were a couple on a date. The waiter had made a comment about what a lovely couple you were, “hurry up so we can get out of here and get home.”

Home. As in your singular home. That’s right; not only were you a fool, you were an absolute fool. One that lived with her best friend that she was secretly in love with. It made things…interesting. But, if anything, it was a good exercise in futility. 

“Pajamas and ice cream?” he asked, as if it was really any question. At least one night a week included a lazy night in watching movies in pajamas and lots of ice cream. You loved that you were able to enjoy such simple things, along with the finer things.

“Duh,” you teased, “now come on, before someone mistakes for a couple again.”

“Would that really be such a bad thing?” there was a look of genuine curiosity in his eyes that almost made you spill your deep, dark secret then and there. 

“Yes,” you lied, biting the inside of your cheek, “the worst!”

Peter said nothing but you could feel him watching you. You were afraid that somehow he would learn all your deepest, darkest secrets. 

You hoped he wouldn’t…you weren’t sure how you’d survive that.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

When you woke up the next morning, it was to something that smelled extremely delicious. You groaned as you rolled onto your back, rubbing the last of the sleep from your eyes, stomach gurgling loudly. You slipped out of bed and pulled on a discarded hoodie - it used to be Peter’s but was now yours - and socks as you padded out into the hallway. 

Noise was coming from the kitchen and your brow furrowed as you walked towards the commotion. Peter’s bedroom door was open which meant that it was definitely him that was the source of all the commotion. Odd. He was usually not an early riser. 

“Pete?” a large vase of daffodils, tulips, and daisies sat on the small kitchen table. Your favorites. The boy was in the kitchen, in a t-shirt and gray joggers (damn him), and moved around to make sure everything was ready at the same time, “what’s all this?”

“Hey babe,” the pet name flowed from his lips like it was a no brainer, like this was all so natural between the two of you. You supposed, in a way, it was, “I’m making breakfast.”

“I can see that,” you raised an eyebrow and gestured around, “what’s the occasion?”

“Nothing,” he shrugged lightly, “just wanted to do something nice for you.”

“Peter, that’s…really sweet,” yeah. You weren’t even going to attempt to deny that much, “it looks and smells delicious. And the flowers-”

“Also for you,” this time a sheepish expression crossed his features along with a pretty pink blush, “I just thought you deserved something nice.”

“Is there…it’s not my birthday,” you mused out loud, “it’s not a holiday. So…am I missing something?”

“No,” he considered you for a moment before swallowing thickly, “I just…let me do something nice without the whole interrogation thing!”

“You’re Spider-Man, you should be used to interrogations.”

“Not from you!”

“Well, consider it practice.”

“No, listen, I-” he groaned lightly, swiping a hand over his face, messing up his already roguish hair, “I-I-I-”

“You can’t get all flustered!” you teased, “can’t let the enemy know you’re weak!”

“I’m not-”

“Petey,” you laughed softly, enjoying the little back and forth banter, “I’m just teasing. No need to get so worked up. Look, I’m going to go-”

“I’m in love with you.”

“And shower before breakfast,” the two of you spoke at the same time, but you heard each other loud and clear. You opened and closed your mouth a few times, feeling the heat rise up in your cheeks, flustered and wanting to disappear, “w-why would you say that?”

“What?” he looked confused. Your heart felt like it was about to burst out of your chest, “what do you mean?”

“I was just teasing you, but you don’t have to be cruel,” you felt tears already welling up as your lip trembled with effort to keep from crying, “why would you be so mean?”

“How? I don’t…what?”

“Why would you tease me and say you loved me?” despite your best efforts the tears had welled up and rolled down your face, “I was just messing around, but that’s…hurtful.”

“Wait - what do you mean?” a look of pure panic crossed his features as he shook his head, “why would I just say that? I would never say something like that if I didn’t mean it. Honey-”

“You don’t love me,” you threw up your hands in exasperation, “not like that. You’re my best friend!”

“You’re my best friend too,” he took a step closer and you took one back, “and I do love you as you my best, but you’re so much more than that. I’m in love with you.”

“You’re lying,” you insisted, unable to wrap your head around the fact that he might be telling the truth, “why would you be in love with me? I’m just…me.”

“That’s why I’m in love with you!” he wasn’t sure what your reaction was going to be, but he wasn’t fully expecting this one, “I’ve been in love with you for years! Have you really never noticed?”

“You’re just being a good friend,” were asking him or telling him? You weren’t entirely sure, “you don’t love me! You could never love me. I’m nothing.”

“You’re everything,” but you weren’t listening to him anymore. You were shaking your head, absentmindedly brushing your tears out of your face as you stumbled towards your bedroom. 

“No, please just stop,” you insisted. You ducked into your bedroom and slammed the door shut before locking it. Realistically, if he really wanted to get in it would have been a breeze for him. 

He called your name a few more times before you heard his retreating footsteps go back to the kitchen. All you could think to do was to climb into bed and get under the covers. Dealing with anything - what he had said and what you had said - seemed like the last thing you wanted to think about.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

At some point you woke up from the stress and sadness nap you had taken and found that the sun was shining brightly into the room.  You looked at your phone with a groan when you saw that it was the middle of the afternoon.

Hesitantly you dragged yourself out of bed, again, and slinked towards the door, sticking your ear to it and listening for any signs of life, also known as Peter Benjamin Parker. This would be one of the times it would have been handy to have his enhanced senses, but even with your regular old human abilities, you were sure he wasn’t home. 

With a sigh of relief you opened the door and walked back into the crime scene; the kitchen looked exactly as it had when you’d found Peter in it earlier. He must have left to give you space after your little - okay big - freak out. He’d always been good with boundaries and giving you space when needed.

Part of you almost wished he was here. The flowers on the table were almost taunting you, and you walked over to them, gently touching over their petals. Of course he knew your favorite flowers, he got them for you…kind of a lot now that you were thinking about it. He knew you inside out, better than anyone else, and sometimes you were convinced that he knew you better than you knew yourself. 

You stepped into the kitchen and started to clean things up, putting dishes in the sink and other stuff away. The thought that Peter had touched each and everyone of these things provided a sense of relief. 

Peter often did these sorts of things. He doted on you, you would absolutely admit this, but you’d always chalked it up to his friendly nature. But then…he wasn’t like this with his other friends. He was openly affectionate, yes, but with you it was different. You thought about the fact that he never went on dates with anyone - he would always turn them down, including Kim from work. The few times you’d gone on a date he always seemed upset, even if he tried to suggest otherwise. Huh.

People often asked if the two of you were dating, but you always gave them the same answer: platonic friends with a capital P. It sucked sometimes, especially when you knew that women, and men, practically threw themselves at Peter.

You thought back on all the things he did for you, all the days, nights, and weekends you’d spent together through the years and oh. Oh. 

“Oh,” you whispered the singular word out loud to yourself, halfway through washing a plate when it hit you. 

Peter hadn’t been lying; he was telling you the truth. The truth had been so obvious and right in front of you the entire time.

You wanted to curl up and vanish. Not only had you accused him of lying and only loving you as a friend, you’d run out on him and refused to talk to him like a stubborn child. All you could do was hope that you hadn’t ruined everything. 

When you were finished cleaning up the mess from earlier, you made a mental plan. Maybe he wouldn’t believe you or forgive you, but it was worth a shot like a sort of romantic hail mary. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Peter spent the better part of the day out of the apartment, opting to go and work in his office. His mind was reeling and the only way he could think to get it to quiet down was to throw himself into his work. He hoped that by the time he got home you would be willing to talk to him, or at the very least you wouldn’t run from him. 

Needless to say, he wasn’t expecting you to be in the kitchen making dinner as you sang along to whatever record you threw on the vintage player. You’d gifted it to him a few years ago on his birthday after you’d seen him eyeing it about a hundred times. It was just one of the many ways you showed him love. He’d fallen even more in love that day. 

“Hello?” he asked timidly as he kicked off his sneakers by the door. On the table next to the flowers he’d gotten for you, was another vase, this one filled with daisies and sunflowers; his favorites…because they reminded him of you. 

At the sound of his voice you slowly turned around, bracing yourself for about a million different possibilities. 

“Hi Pete,” you held up your hands in a meek little wave, feeling your flush furiously, “listen-”

“I’m sorry,” the two of you said at the same time.

“W-wait,” a pretty pout settled on your lips. He wanted to kiss you until it went away and was replaced with a smile, “what are you sorry for?”

“For making you uncomfortable,” he shrugged nervously, “I didn’t think what I said would come across so…like it did. I thought you knew, or at least kind of knew, how I felt. I thought maybe you felt the same and it was finally time to tell you. That didn’t land well obviously.”

“Peter,” whenever you said his name like that it made him want to melt into a puddle. 

There were a million things you wanted to say, but couldn’t think of anything. Nothing seemed quite adequate or strong enough to convey the amount of love you held for the man in front of you.

You walked the few remaining steps over and stopped right in front of him, both of you staring at each other intensely. 

You reached up to touch his face, your hand resting on his cheek. You leaned up and closed the little bit of remaining distance, pressing your lips against his. It only took a moment for his brain to catch up to what was happening, and when he did, his hands settled on your waist, and pulled you ever closer into his body. 

Kissing Peter left so natural, so right, like you’d been doing it forever. There was no learning curve - the two of you already know each other so well - no awkward fumbling or misses. It just…was. 

And kissing him was addicting. Now that you knew what it was like, you never wanted to stop. You wanted him all over you, all the time, forever.

But eventually you needed a breath of air and reluctantly pulled apart. You found him watching you like you were the most wonderful thing he had ever seen (you were). 

“I’ve been in love with you for a very, very long time,” you admitted softly, causing his eyes to lit up, “I just never thought…you’ve always been my best friend and I was convinced you’d never want more. So I never said anything.”

“I’ve always wanted more - I want everything,” he took your face in his hands, cradling it delicately as he studied, “it’s always been you.”

“I thought that I was just me, and I’d never be good enough for you. And then I thought maybe you found out how I felt and you were teasing me,” it seemed really silly saying it out loud. 

“I would never do that,” you knew he wouldn’t. Your own self doubt had you convinced of all the wrong things, “I meant it all. I’ve always meant it.”

“I thought about it while you were gone,” it was a soft confession that had you giving him a shy smile, “and I realized it was always so obvious.”

“It’s been terribly obvious,” he agreed as you exchanged soft laughs.

“Terribly,” you agreed, “will you forgive me for how I acted earlier?”

“There’s nothing to forgive,” he insisted, sweet and saccharine, “can I kiss you more?”

“I would-”

Before you could finish what you were saying, you smelt something burning and turned around to find your pain on fire. You panicked while Peter fell into action, taking the pan off and setting it in the sink before getting the fire out. It was just one of the many ways in which you complimented each other perfectly. 

“Anyway, you were saying?” He had the biggest, silliest smile on his face as the kitchen filled with the smell of burnt food. You couldn’t help but break into a fit of giggles at the absurdity of it all...and then the smoke alarm went off.

“You can kiss me anytime,” you finally got to say what you had wanted to, shouting slightly over the alarm before the two of you dissolved into laughter, “I love you, Peter Parker. Really.”

“I really love you, honey bee.”

[ladykailitha]

Around the World Part 1

Welcome to the sequel, but not the epilogue! It a bit confusing and I'm sorry. Essentially this story takes place before the sobriety celebration in the last chapter of Icarus. Which I would absolutely read first if you haven't yet. It's 25 chapters of Steddie on tour.

The epilogue takes place SIX years AFTER Gareth's celebration. And is only two chapters. It is an unmasking of The Fallen. I wrote when I was trying to flesh out Shane, Spence, and Simon.

Summary: After a grueling tour, Steve wants nothing more than take a vacation with his boyfriend and just be regular people for three months. Only Eddie isn't just anyone, he's the frontman for the world's most popular heavy metal band. So Chrissy and Robin come long to act as beards (provided they keep their hands off of each other long enough). Join the fruity four as they travel the world looking for the spooky, the kooky, and the all together weird.

~

The tour was finally over and Steve was ready to collapse. He couldn’t wait to be himself again.

It would be two weeks with Jim Hopper and the rest of his band to deprogram them from their alter egos then a three month trip with Robin and Eddie.

Everyone else had made plans too. Spence and Nadia were going to see a few of the national parks. They were going to start with the ones in California and then go from there. They were planning on making it a yearly thing, if they lasted that long.

His friends really hoped they did. One of them needed a healthy relationship that wasn’t kept in the shadows.

Steve showed up first and waited for his bandmates to trickle in. Shane arrived first. With coffee for all six of them. Robin and Hopper included. Steve gratefully took his syrupy sweet iced coffee with a grateful smile.

Shane was doing better too. He had started therapy too after talking with Gareth about his. Gareth had told him that it was better to start when the cracks were beginning to show, then after the damn had burst. And Shane had really taken that to heart.

Him and Gareth were taking a vacation together later in the summer. To places where drinking and partying wasn’t the only way to have fun. Both their therapists recommended it, to have a friend with them who was going through a similar journey to help keep them on the path to recovery.

Simon came in next. He gratefully took his black coffee with two sugars from Shane and flopped on the sofa next to Steve. He was the only one of them that didn’t have plans. But privately Steve thought that was a good thing. He needed to learn to be more independent and not rely on other members of the band so much.

Then it was Robin and Hopper together, they were talking about business things that made Steve’s head spin. He knew it was a necessary part of what they did, but he was glad he someone else to do it for him.

They each took their coffees from Shane with grateful mumbles and sat down in each the arm chairs.

Spence arrived last and looking rather harried.

“If I see one more out of state driver thinking that they know how to drive on the instate better than Californians I might actually commit murder.”

Shane held up a white Americano and Spence broke down into tears. “I love you, man!”

Spence gave him a huge hug and Shane just patted his back awkwardly. Once Spence stopped crying he went to go sit on the sofa with Steve and Simon.

“Sorry about that,” he said with a sniff. “It’s just been a horrific morning and the sweet smell of coffee was like balm on my soul.”

Steve was about to ask what was wrong, when Hopper cleared his throat. “All right, everyone. I’ve made everyone videos that I want all you of you to study for the next couple of hours and then we’ll slowly work on deprogramming all of you.”

They buckled down and got to work. Steve kept an eye on Spence though. And when they both got a break he pulled his drummer aside.

“Hey, bud,” Steve asked soothingly, “what’s wrong?”

Spence ran his fingers through his long curls and sighed. “Nadia has to go back to India for a few months because her grandfather is dying. Only she’s not sure how long it will be so most likely the vacation is off.”

Steve blinked at him for a moment. “And you’re not going with her, why?”

Spence raised his head and blinked back at him. “What?”

“You’re a multi-millionaire, dude,” Steve pointed out, “you could go with her to India. Meet her family, enjoy and learn a whole new country and culture.”

Spence’s eyes went wide. “I–I didn’t think of that...” he made a dive for his phone but Hopper was faster.

“It can wait until you’re done for today,” he growled. “You have a lot to do before you can contact people in your life.”

Spence blushed a dark red.

“Holy fucking hell, Spencer Peters,” Hopper snapped. “I told you not go see her. And ya did it anyway.”

“I figured I was okay,” Spence muttered. “After all I don’t talk as Azrael.”

Hopper smacked the back of his head. “Yeah and how did you explain your rough voice?”

“Traveler’s cough?” Spence said with a wince and a shrug.

Hopper squeezed the bridge of his nose with finger and thumb and sighed. “Don’t do that again, yes?”

Spence nodded, wide eyed.

Things progressed naturally from there. Every day, them becoming more like themselves and less like two separate people.

On the last day of “training” Robin came bouncing up to Steve.

“So...” she said nervously, “Vickie wants us to take a fourth on our vacation so it doesn’t look like I’m chaperoning you. Preferably another woman.”

Steve sighed.

He really should have seen that coming. Even though Robin/Celeste are known homosexuals, having another woman there would dispel the rumors that Eddie and Steve were dating.

“It would have to be someone straight,” he said, resigned.

“Would another chaotic bisexual work?” Robin asked chewing nervously on her lower lip.

“Chrissy.”

Robin grinned. “Yeah. It’ll be awesome because like me she was friends with the band before she became their manager so her and Eddie are really close, like you and me and with her with us, you ‘dating’ a manager isn’t as gold digger-esque as dating a international rockstar. Plus, she really likes the spooky and supernatural stuff too, so she wouldn’t be a killjoy about it–”

Steve grabbed her by the shoulders and said firmly, “Breathe.”

Robin took a massive inhale and gulped.

“I don’t mind Chrissy coming along,” he said with a wry smile, “but are you sure you don’t just want her along because you have a crush on her?”

She opened her mouth to refute it, but Steve raised an eyebrow and she slammed her mouth shut.

“That’s what I thought,” he said smugly. “Just know you cannot do anything even remotely couple-y with her otherwise that will completely counter the whole reason she’s there in the first place.”

Robin raised her hands in surrender. “I promise to keep my hands to myself until we get home.”

“Then of course she can come.”

“Yay!” Robin cried jumping up and down.

~

Steve was packing for his trip and was starting to worry that maybe this was a bad idea. He hadn’t thought about how it would look with him spending so much money on clothes and accommodation. Travel and food made sense on a PA’s salary, but staying in the places that Eddie would want to stay in without being labeled a gold digger was starting to weigh on his mind.

Which is of course when Eddie came to his rescue without him even needing to say a word.

The man in question came bounding into his room, him long since having had a key to the place, even well before he knew Steve was Abbadon. It was just now, he also had the biolock to Steve’s studio, too.

“Baby,” Eddie said giddily. “I found these haunted bed and breakfast places we can stay in on trip. With motels on standby in case they really are haunted. What do you think?”

Eddie let out a startled squawk when Steve tackled him onto the bed and completely ravished him.

When they were lying in bed afterward Eddie asked what that was about.

“Like, I loved the welcome,” he hedged. “But damn sweetheart, what did I do to deserve that in particular?”

Steve blushed and tucked his head into Eddie’s shoulder. “I was worried about it looking like I have too munch money for a PA or looking like a gold digger, then you come in with a plan of small bed and breakfasts and motels and I honestly couldn’t love you more in that moment.”

Eddie blinked for a moment as he took that in.

“Sweetheart,” he said softly, “you’ve gone on more lavish vacations with me before, what’s all the worry for now?”

“It’s just after the tour and the press accusing me of riding on your coattails and only being your friend for your money...”

“Oh, baby,” Eddie cooed, pulling Steve in impossibly closer. “I’d forgotten about that bullshit. Of course you’d be worried about that.”

“And then you came barreling into my intrusive thoughts,” Steve huffed in faux annoyance, “and just by being your sweet lovable self, scared off all my doubts and worries. Which is why I absolutely could not keep my hands off of you.”

Eddie tilted his head to the side. “I approve.”

Steve giggled and rolled on top of him to shower him with kisses. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too, baby,” Eddie murmured. “So the B&Bs are a hit?”

Steve sat up, straddling his hips. “Yeah, Eddie, it’s a hit. It’s perfect and low key. Most of those places wouldn’t even recognize you.” He paused for a moment. “Wait... that’s why you picked it isn’t?”

Eddie blushed and shoved a lock of hair in front of his face, nodding shyly.

Steve started kissing him again and again. “I think it’s a perfect idea, honey. I love that you thought of everything. Now we can absolutely go and everyone can have a good time. Thanks to you.”

“I want to take all the credit for be smart,” Eddie said bashfully, “but I was just going for as much fun and as silly as possible.”

Steve kissed him fiercely. “Well, still take credit, babe, because you cinched it for everyone.”

“Mmk,” Eddie said, then he grabbed Steve waist and flipped them over. “For being so sweet, I think it’s time I repaid you.” He slid down Steve’s body, hands roaming over sensitive skin the further down he went.

Steve let out a gasp as Eddie’s mouth enveloped around his dick. It would be sometime before either of them got out of bed.

~

The day of their departure came and all their bandmates came out to see them off. Simon had decided to take a wine tour of Italy and France to brush up on his language skills. An endeavor Robin heartily endorsed.

Steve secretly hoped that he would find a nice European woman to settle down with and get married. He could bring her back to LA so that it didn’t break up the band, but...

Yeah, he knew it was pipe dream. Simon still got too far into his head especially with his anxiety.

They hugged and kissed everyone goodbye and started their journey of all things, spooky, kooky, and the bizarre at Alcatraz Prison.

The long white corridors and echoing chambers was exactly what they wanted in a place they visited.

They all listened with rapt attention as their tour guide went on about the notorious prisoners and the daring escape that to that day was still unsolved. They even talked about how the Mythbusters had proven that they could have survived.

That night in their first haunted bed and breakfast, they pulled up the episode on Chrissy’s laptop and they all huddled around it to watch.

Then the girls went into one room and Eddie and Steve went into the other. They probably could have afforded to have all of them having their own room, but Eddie and Steve wanted the privacy. The one place they could act couple-y.

“Just think!” Eddie said excitedly. “All the mobsters that were interned there. Machine Gun Kelly! Al Capone! Fucking Al Capone! Whitey Bulger!”

Steve nodded. “And that famous escape from the Anglin Brothers and Frank Morris! God, that place was creepy as hell though.”

“Yeah,” Eddie agreed. “If that’s what solitary is like it should be against the law. What the honest fuck.”

“Just don’t commit any murders and I think we should be okay,” Steve assured him, rubbing his arm gently.

Eddie cocked his head to the side and put his finger to his lips thoughtfully. “No promises!”

Steve laughed and tackled his boyfriend to the bed. “God I love you.” He kissed Eddie deeply. “How quiet do you think you can be?”

“Right...” Eddie snorted, “like I’m the loud one, Mr. Screamer.” He casually flipped the two of them over, Steve giving a surprised yelp. “Do you think you can be quiet or do you think we need to gag you?”

Steve’s eyes went wide and his jaw went slack. He never thought he’d like the idea of a gag, but with Eddie, he was learning all sorts of new things about himself.

“Ooh...” Eddie said with a grin. “Someone just bluescreened over that suggestion.” Steve could only nodded. “You stay right there, pumpkin, let me go find something to gag you with.”

Steve nodded again, even more enthusiastically then before. He watched eagerly as Eddie went digging through their luggage, hoping he found something quickly.

“Ah ha!” Eddie cried, holding up his prize. It was a blank bandanna with white skulls on it. “This’ll do!”

He came bounding back up the bed and tied it over Steve’s mouth. “Now you just lie there, princess. I’m going to take good care of you tonight.”

~

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9

I was going to start from scratch (meaning just putting my permanent list down and have ten new people request to be tagged), but there are a couple from my permanent list that aren't on the list for this one, and as I really don't want to have to go line by line (I will fuck up and do it wrong), I'm just keeping the list from Icarus across the trilogy, sorry!

If you are on this list and want to be removed from this and future sequels, let me know!

Tag List: CLOSED

1- @mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog

2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @val-from-lawrence

3- @goodolefashionedloverboi @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog @irregular-child @blondie1006

4- @yikes-a-bee @bookworm0690 @anne-bennett-cosplayer @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten

5- @genderless-spoon @y4r3luv @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt

6- @disrespectedgoatman @eyehartart @dawners @thespaceantwhowrites @tinyplanet95

7- @iamthehybrid @croatoan-like-its-hot @papergrenade @cryptid-system @counting-dollars-counting-stars

8- @ravenfrog @w1ll0wtr33 @child-of-cthulhu @kultiras @dreamercec

9- @machete-inventory-manager @useless-nb-bisexual @stripey82 @dotdot-wierdlife @kal-ology

10- @sadisticaltarts @urkadop @chameleonhair @clockworkballerina @garden-of-gay