#OR maybe it’s because he likes seeing the smudged lipstick marks on their mouths

[darkmarkmarauder]

666 ways I love you - M.R.

!warning!minorsdni, sexual content

word count: 2.8k

Pairing: Mattheo Riddle x you

“I do very bad things and I do them very well.”

There were 666 ways Mattheo Riddle loved you.

And every single one of them was fucking wrong.

It was in the way he spat your name, the syllables curled in venom, fingers digging bruises into your arms when he pressed you against the cold stone of the castle walls. The way he laughed—low, dark, mocking—when you told him you hated him.

Liar, his smirk said. You wouldn’t know what to do without me.

He wasn’t wrong.

Like father, like son. It was fucking obvious. He was his father’s creation, molded from the same arrogance, the same cruel intelligence, the same insatiable hunger to win. But Mattheo? He was worse.

Tom Riddle destroyed people with words, with calculated charm, with power.

Mattheo destroyed people with his hands. With his teeth. With his fucking cock.

And you were his favorite thing to ruin.

It had been like this all year—an endless cycle of fucking, fighting, breaking, destroying. The whole school knew it. They saw the way you tore into each other, how your fights dragged in everyone around you, how he’d storm off after every brutal argument and find some innocent little bitch to fuck.

And you retaliated.

Not just against him, but against her.

Did she deserve it? Maybe not. But who the fuck did she think she was, touching your Mattheo? Kissing your Mattheo? Letting his filthy hands wander over her skin when they were meant to be buried in you?

So, of course, you hexed her.

And when the tables turned, when you were the one tired of Mattheo’s bullshit, when you finally snapped—well, nothing fucked with his head more than you spreading your legs for his best friend.

Lorenzo Berkshire.

The first time had been an act of war.

You hadn’t planned it, hadn’t thought past the blinding, seething rage crawling under your skin, past the bruises Mattheo had left on your throat from your last fight, past the way he had looked at you like he didn’t fucking care.

So you made him care.

Lorenzo was easy. Handsome, cocky, eager to please—eager to get under Mattheo’s skin just as much as you were.

And Merlin, did you make sure Mattheo knew.

You let him see the marks Lorenzo left on your neck, the lipstick smudged on his collar. Let him hear the way Lorenzo talked about you—loud enough for Mattheo to catch in the echoing halls of the castle. How fucking filthy you were. How you moaned for him. How he had you on your knees in the Astronomy Tower, hands braced against the stone, crying out as he—

That had been a mistake.

Because Mattheo Riddle did not take humiliation lightly.

And he sure as fuck didn’t like losing.

So when he dragged you out of the Great Hall that night, fingers curled like iron around your wrist, shoving you into the first empty classroom he could find, you knew you were in trouble.

The door slammed behind you, shaking the walls.

Mattheo stood there, chest heaving, a storm unraveling in his dark eyes.

You smirked. Gotcha, baby.

"What's wrong, Mattheo?" you purred, voice dripping in mock sweetness. "Jealous?"

He laughed. Sharp, humorless. "Jealous?" he echoed, stepping forward, closing the distance until your back hit the desk behind you. "No, princesa. That would imply he had something I wanted."

You rolled your eyes, pushing past him. "Right. Because you don’t want me. You’ve made that very clear." His fingers caught your wrist, spinning you back around so fast you barely had time to gasp before he had you pinned—one hand wrapped around your throat, the other curling around his wand, pressing it into the fabric of your skirt.

His voice dropped, quiet, venomous."You think that pretty little whore mouth can run away from me?"

Your breath hitched. "Mattheo—"

"You don't get to fuck me over and walk away."

Your breath came out in short, uneven gasps. But you didn’t back down. "You do it all the time," you hissed. "Why does it bother you now?"

"Because, mi amor." He drawled as his wand dragged upward, tracing the curve of your thigh, pushing your skirt higher until cool air kissed the damp heat between your legs. "You’re mine," he murmured, tone filled with the same cruel amusement.

You refused to give in.

You exhaled sharply, nails curling into the edge of the desk, legs trembling under the weight of his touch. "Funny," you spat, forcing your voice to stay steady, forcing your body not to react to him, not like this. "You didn’t seem to care when you had your hands all over that fucking Ravenclaw." The words dripped with venom, with something unspoken and ugly. You shouldn’t have said them. You knew that the second the flicker of amusement in his dark eyes vanished, replaced by something far worse.

Before you could react, his fingers wrapped around your throat, pushing you back against the desk—his wand digging into your skin, pressing just below your jaw.

"You think I give a fuck about her?" His voice was low, furious. "You think any of them fucking matter?"

His grip tightened, just enough to make your head spin, to make your pulse pound against his palm.

"You’re the only one who fucking matters, and you know it," he growled, breath fanning across your lips. "That’s why you let him touch you, isn’t it? Why you let him fuck you—my best fucking friend."

You gritted your teeth, glaring up at him. "Why should it matter?" you hissed. "Since you clearly don’t love me."

Mattheo’s lips curled, and for a second, you thought he might actually snap.

"Don't love you?" he repeated, voice mocking, venom-laced. His laugh was sharp, humorless. "Baby, I hate you."

Your stomach twisted.

"And yet—" His grip tightened, forcing your head back, making you look at him, meet the fury, the obsession, the pure fucking insanity unraveling behind those dark eyes. "Yet, no matter how much I fucking hate you, I can't stop."

Your breath stuttered, nails digging into his wrist.

"I can't stop thinking about you," he murmured, voice low, rough, a dangerous whisper against your lips. "Can't stop wanting you. Can’t fucking breathe without you."

You hated the way your body responded. The way your pulse pounded under his touch, the way your thighs clenched at his words. The way you wanted to push him away and pull him closer at the same time.

"And it fucking kills me—" He pressed closer, crowding into your space, feeling his sinful fingers running over your sensitive cunt . "Fucking ruins me—knowing you let him touch you. That you let him hear the sounds that belong to me."

You moaned softly when he inserted his fingers, right against the thin lace of your panties, playing with how wet you were.

He tilted his head, eyes gleaming with something wicked. "You’re soaking ," he uttered, almost mocking. "That for me? Or for Lorenzo?"

You rolled your eyes, but your hips betrayed you as your back arched up close to him.

"Say his name," he demanded, dragging his fingers in and out of you with agonizing slowness.

You clenched your jaw, refusing. Then—his fingers disappeared.

You gasped, thighs clenching around nothing, frustration coiling in your stomach as you tried to buck your hips against him.

But Mattheo just stood there, watching you with an amused glint in his eyes, like he had all the time in the world. Like he knew you would break first.

You glared at him, chest heaving, legs still spread for him, exposed and desperate and angry.

"Fucking bastard—"

"Say. his. name," he repeated, calm, composed, deadly.

You clenched your fists, swallowing hard.

"Lorenzo." It was barely a whisper

He wrenched your skirt up, pushing his hips against yours, letting you feel just how hard he was, just how much this had gotten to him.

"You want to fuck my best friend?" he growled against your lips, sliding his belt free, unbuttoning his trousers. "You wanna be a little whore?" he hummed, head tilting, watching the way your chest heaved, the way your thighs trembled. "You wanna spread your legs for anyone with a cock just to get back at me?"

Your nails dug into the desk behind you. "Fuck you."

His lips curled. "That’s the plan, princesa."

You barely had time to gasp before he slammed inside you.

You gasped, arching against the wall, the stretch forcing a strangled moan from your lips.

"You want to be fucked like a whore?" His voice was low, thick with something dangerous. "I’ll fuck you like a whore."

Your nails scraped against the wood, fingers curling desperately over the edge of the desk as Mattheo slammed into you, the force knocking the breath from your lungs.

"Fuck—"

"Yeah?" he mocked, voice laced with cruel amusement. His grip on your hips was bruising, nails digging into your flesh as he pulled you back against him, forcing you to take every inch, stretching you to the point of pain. "That what you wanted, baby?"

You refused to answer. So he didn’t slow.

Didn’t ease up, didn’t give you a second to adjust—just fucked into you, brutal, punishing, sharp thrusts that left you clawing at the desk, eyes squeezing shut as you tried to keep yourself from making the noises he wanted.

His hand tangled in your hair, yanking your head back until your neck arched, until his mouth was right at your ear. His breath was hot, ragged, fucking furious.

"You think he could ever fuck you like I do?" he sneered. You didn’t answer. You couldn’t.

His grip tightened. "Answer me, princesa."

"No," you gasped, choking on a whimper as he thrust deeper, slamming your hips against the desk.

"That’s right." Another slap—this time over your already-sensitive clit, making you jolt, making your walls clench around him. "That’s fucking right."

He wanted to ruin you. To make sure no part of you belonged to anyone but him.

And he was doing a bloody good job of it. You hated that he could turn your own body against you.

Before you could catch your breath, he was moving. Lifting you off the desk, his hands firm under your thighs as he carried you across the room. Your hands flew to his shoulders as he adjusted, seating himself on the chair and pulling you onto his lap. His back pressed against the desk now as he gripped your hips, positioning you exactly how he wanted. You moaned loudly, nails sinking into his skin as you sank down, filling you completely, pushing up onto your toes, rolling your hips against him, taking him deeper.

"Atta girl," he growled, slamming into you, meeting you halfway,

Your legs completely spent, thighs burning, but you kept going, desperate, fucking needy—because fuck, he was right. No one else ever could touch you like he did.

His head tipped back, a low groan slipping from his lips, voice rough, his fingers bruising into your thighs as you rode him, as you fucked yourself onto him. "Fuck. Just like that." his other hand trailing down your spine, gripping your ass roughly before delivering a sharp slap that had you arching against him, crying out. His hand wrapped around your throat again, pulling you close. You gasped, body jerking, legs shaking—so fucking close. "Baby—"

"Cum for me," he growled, lips brushing your ear, breath hot and commanding. "Cum on my cock like the desperate little slut you are."

And fuck, you did.

“God, Matty—”

His hand wrapped tighter around your throat, cutting off your words. “What was that, sweetheart?” His lips brushed your ear, voice dark, teasing. “You praying?”

You choked out a moan, your head spinning, your body helpless beneath his as you rode out your orgasm. Body trembling as waves of pleasure crashed over you, a broken moan slipping from your lips as you came around his cock, pulsing, clenching, milking him. His fingers dug into your thighs, pulling you down hard, making sure you felt every inch of him as you shattered. “That’s it, baby,” he rasped, voice thick with satisfaction, with power. “Make a mess on my cock.” His pace turned erratic, thrusts growing uneven, his fingers pressing against your throat just enough to make your vision blur. His curls stuck to his forehead with sweat, his brows furrowed, his jaw clenched as he chased his high. His groan muffled against your skin as he came, his hips still driving into you as he spilled inside. You felt it—hot and thick, filling you up as he buried himself deep, his fingers bruising your hips.

His hand remained wrapped around your throat, loose now but still firm, a reminder of his control. He didn’t move, didn’t pull out, didn’t let you breathe just yet. Instead, he pressed his lips to your jaw, dragging them down the column of your throat, inhaling the scent of sweat and sin. “Such a good girl when you’re taking my cock,” he mused, his thumb dragging over your bottom lip. “Shame you’re such a fucking problem when you’re not.”

“Let me make something very fucking clear,” he rasped, leaning in, his nose brushing yours, his lips just barely touching yours as he spoke, “You don’t look at him. You don’t talk to him. And you sure as fuck don’t go near him again.”

Your breath hitched, but you didn’t give him the satisfaction of looking away. Instead, you smirked, the smallest, defiant tilt of your lips, knowing it would send him over the edge. You fucking lived for this.

"Or what?" you taunted, voice hoarse from screaming his name minutes before.

"Or I’ll bend you over this desk again and make sure you can’t walk back to your dorm," his voice dripping with mock sweetness. "Wouldn’t want that now, would we, sweetheart?"

Your stomach clenched at his words, and you hated the way your body still responded to him, even now, when your legs felt like they were made of jelly. But Mattheo saw everything—felt every tiny shiver that ran through you.

"Yeah," he laughed, pulling back to look at you, cocky as ever. "That’s what I thought."

With infuriating slowness, he reached for your discarded clothes, shaking his head as he picked up your underwear. "Torn lace, tsk, tsk," he mused, stretching the ruined fabric between his fingers. "At this rate, love, I’m gonna have to start buying you replacements."

You rolled your eyes. "Oh, how tragic for you."

Grinning, he crouched slightly, sliding your underwear up your legs with a teasing brush of his knuckles. He didn’t move away immediately, fingers lingering at your thighs as he let out a pleased hum. "Still shaking for me, angel?"

You huffed, but your sharp retort died when he grabbed your skirt and smoothed it back into place, making a show of adjusting it on your hips like he hadn’t just been the one hiking it up around your waist minutes ago.

Once your blouse was slipped over your arms, Mattheo took his time buttoning it up for you, fingers brushing over your collarbone, your throat, your stomach—places he had just worshipped with his mouth. His eyes flicked up to yours, dark and unreadable.

"You really are a mess," he mused, running a hand through your tangled hair, fixing it with an almost ridiculous amount of patience.

"You’re the reason I’m a mess," you muttered, still catching your breath.

His lips curled into a smug smirk. "Exactly."

Once you were dressed, Mattheo took a step back, looking you over with a satisfied expression before fixing his own tie, adjusting his sleeves like nothing had happened. Like he hadn’t just destroyed you against a classroom desk.

His fingers brushed over your skin, soothing, grounding. "Come on, love," he murmured, pressing a final kiss against your forehead. "Let's go."

He stood, taking his jacket and draping it over your shoulders before wrapping an arm around your waist. You were still shaky, still warm and dazed, but you leaned into him as he led you out of the room, down the dark corridors, back to his dorm—the place you always ended up after your fights, after your desperation boiled over into something carnal and consuming.

The door shut behind you, sealing you into the dim warmth of his space. He pulled you to the bed, guiding you down before settling in beside you, arms wrapping around you as he pulled you close. His lips found your forehead, a rare, quiet moment of peace settling over you both.

Because for all the ways Mattheo Riddle could destroy you, there were 666 ways he loved you.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

a/n: maybe..therapy…isn’t such a bad idea

ᴅɪᴠɪᴅᴇʀ ᴄʀᴇᴅ: @ꜱᴛʀᴀɴɢᴇʀɢʀᴀᴘʜɪᴄꜱ

MASTERLIST

[toapoet]

jask puts on yen’s lipstick and then kisses her with it

[missdynamighttt]

using your boyfriend! katsuki bakugo's face to test out if your lipsticks are kiss-proof.

katsuki leaned back against the couch, a mix of annoyance and amusement flickering in his eyes as you're perched on his lap, armed with an array of lipsticks on the coffee table.

the array of tubes came in various shades of red, pink, beige and even orange gleamed under the light, and your grin was way too mischievous for his liking.

��this is stupid,” he grumbled, though he didn’t make any effort to push you away.

“no, this is science,” you teased with a grin, twisting open a tube of lipstick. “i need to test if these are actually kissproof, and who better to test on than my loving boyfriend?”

“remind me again why i agreed to this?” he asked dryly, though the faintest smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.

“because you love me. now sit still, and don’t wipe your face, no matter what.”

katsuki instinctively tensed, but before he could say anything, your lips pressed against his, leaving a bold red kiss mark.

you pulled back to inspect your work, tapping your chin thoughtfully. "hmm, not bad, but let’s see if it smudges.”

you lightly rubbed his lips off the kiss mark with your thumb, then grinned triumphantly when it smudged slightly.

“guess this one isn’t kissproof. let’s try another.”

“you’re just usin' this as an excuse to kiss me.”

“maybe,” you admitted, a sly smile tugging at your lips as you reached for another lipstick. “but you’re not complaining, are you?”

he opened his mouth to retort, but you cut him off with another kiss, this time on his forehead. katsuki grumbled under his breath, but the way his lips twitched betrayed his amusement.

one by one, you tested out each and every one of your lipsticks. you made sure to leave vibrant marks across his cheeks, his forehead, his jawline, and even the tip of his nose. each kiss mark was a different shade, creating a chaotic warm hue of affection on his face.

its only half way, and katsuki’s face was plastered in smudged kiss marks, and his patience was starting to run out.

“are you done yet?” he grumbled, watching you in the corner of his eye as you leaned in close, his tone exasperated but not entirely serious.

“shush,” you grinned, leaning forward to press a kiss against his cheek. you pulled back, studying the growing collection of kiss marks.

“okay, definitely not kissproof,” you said with a satisfied nod before reapplying another shade. he didn’t move as you kissed his jaw this time, leaving another bold lip mark. you pulled back, inspecting your work. “nope, not this one either. next!”

katsuki sighed, his patience wearing thin, but he stayed put, his hands resting on his thighs. “sweets... how many of these fuckin' things do you actually have?”

you ignored him, happily swiping on a soft pink shade next. you leaned in again, pressing your lips to the other side of his face. you pulled back, feigning disappointment. “ooh, not kissproof either. guess we keep going!”

“what a shame,” katsuki deadpanned, his voice dripping with sarcasm with the squeez of your hips, looking at you so affectionately.

but you weren't done yet.

you were intentionally avoided the tubes you knew were kissproof, prolonging the excuse to pepper his face with kisses. each time you left a print, you grinned, giggling as his face slowly became a canvas of lip marks in every imaginable shade—reds, pinks, beiges, and even a daring orange.

by the time you finally went through them all, katsuki’s face was an absolute mess of lipstick smudges. you dabbed on your first long-lasting formula lipstick, making sure it was a bright, bold red.

“this one’s supposed to be smudge-proof,” you said, leaning in close and planting a firm kiss above his neck. you pulled back, studying his skin. not a single smudge. there was nothing there—just the clean outline of his breath-takingly sharp jaw.

“huh. guess this one’s actually it."

but before you could grab a makeup wipe to start cleaning up, katsuki’s patience finally snapped. he grabbed your wrist, pulling you closer into his lap.

“oh, it’s kissproof, huh?” he muttered, his eyes narrowing with playful intensity.

you blinked, your cheeks heating up. “y-yeah, it is.”

“good. because you’re about to find out how kissproof it really is.”

but before you could protest, katsuki leaned in and kissed you deeply, his hands firm on your waist as he poured all his pent-up energy into the kiss.

he didn’t stop at one, either—he kissed your lips, your cheeks, your forehead, and down your jawline, his lips brushing against every inch of your skin he could reach.

you squeaked in surprise, trying and failing to squirm away as you dissolved into laughter. “k-katsuki, stop it!"

“you've been attackin' me all day,” he teased, nipping at your jaw lightly. “now it’s my turn.”

“katsuki, wait—” you started, but your words were cut off again as he kissed you firmly, his lips moving against yours with an intensity that made your head spin.

when he finally decided to pull back, your lips were slightly swollen, and your cheeks were flushed. your lipstick was still perfectly intact—proving it really was kissproof—but your face was flushed, and your laughter had turned into soft giggles.

“looks like it’s kissproof, alright,” he said, kissing down your cheek, then your jaw, then to your neck. again.

“katsuki!” you squealed, laughing as he peppered your face with kisses.

“fair’s fair. you got to mark me up, i'm just returnin' the favor.”

"uh-huh. you’re just looking for excuses to keep kissing me.”

“am not.” he argued, though his grin gave him away. “like you said. this is serious science, sweets.”

“fine. you win,” you said breathlessly, wrapping your arms around his neck. “but admit it—you secretly loved being my test dummy.”

katsuki smirked, brushing his nose against yours. “maybe. but only because it’s you.”

you smiled, leaning in to kiss him one last time. “you’re the best canvas ever.”

“and you’re the most annoyin' artist,” he shot back, pulling you close again. "but i love you anyway."

‎‧₊˚✧[ it's me, kia ! ]✧˚₊‧ ｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ ‎‧₊˚✧[ more of katsuki ! ]✧˚₊‧

⋆˚࿔ kia's note ˚⋆ saw this on twt and KNEW i needed to act on it.

[fairlyang]

thinking about reader leaving lipstick marks on needy!miguel. inspo

after the sloppiest make out session miguel has had in his life, it was to no surprise he was hard as a rock and his boxers were leaking with his precum. you stripped him of all his clothes and you were only left in your undergarments. you had applied red lipstick and didn’t hesitate to leave kisses on every crevice you wanted.

you had just kissed a circle around his pelvic area, leaving behind bright red lip stains while his cock twitched in anticipation. he didn’t even know if you were going to do something just watched as you teased him with no remorse.

your eyes locked deeply into his as you kissed down his thigh and went to the other one. he bit his lip, fighting back the urge to beg for you to do something. he had to change to a new leaf. maybe to prove to himself that your effect on him isn’t that strong.

you took notice of it and couldn’t have that. you needed to hear his sweet pleads, you had grown fond of them. always music to your ears.

you grabbed the red lipstick and applied yet another layer, quickly closing it then putting it aside. still somewhat looking at him you went lower, leaving a small kiss above his balls. he twitched yet again, biting his lip a little harder.

you slowly kissed up along his length, gentle kisses so the lipstick would stay on longer. you got right to the middle and moved your head to the right and kissed down the side as his thighs began to shake. you did the same to the left side then went back to the middle and kissing up. his cheeks were growing warmer by the second and sweat was forming on his forehead.

you looked so good down there. treating him oh so nicely but also being a tease. only because you knew him so well.

so much so that when you made it closer to the tip you knew he was close to breaking. with a quick movement you grab his shaft, leaving a big kiss right on his tip and just like magic, he let out a loud moan.

you smiled up at him and licked off his precum, before slapping the tip onto your tongue. he gasped and felt goosebumps surge through his body. you pulled away and got your face closer to his cock, pressing it against your cheek then pulling away to look at your masterpiece.

“look so pretty like this baby.” you murmur, admiring how the bright red looks on his tanned skin. like a true piece of art.

he let out a small moan and you looked up at him, “don’t ya think so?”

he quickly nods and you slowly start to stroke him, eyes on him to see his reaction. his lips parted, letting out deep breaths while you worked your hand on him, careful to not smudge the lip stains too much.

you went a little faster and he let out more moans, his hips thrusting forward making you chuckle, “mmm you like this huh baby?”

he gulped and nodded once again, letting out a sigh as you jerked him off. you increased the pace to hear him moan again, once he did, you slowed down again, “i want to hear you.”

he whined and was going to be stubborn but knew you’d be capable of completely stopping so he spoke up, “y-yes- yes i like it-“

“thatta boy..” you mumble and go even faster than before without any warning.

he groaned and watched you with fluttering eyes, barely able to let out a coherent sentence, “f-fuck- feels- god… feels s-so good-“

“i know baby, i know. gonna cum for me? give me another load?” you murmur and he eagerly nods, letting out strings of pretty moans.

an idea popped into your head, quite a cruel one but you knew he’d be able to handle it. you continued stroking him fast, whispering dirty things that had him twitching in your hand and had him getting closer to his release.

“oh fuck! baby i’m gonna-“ he moans out and you watch how his body contorts and shakes above you.

you let go of him at the very last millisecond and open your mouth wide as he whimpers and his cum spurts out. some landed on your mouth making you grin while he pouted as the last of his load landed on your chest.

“c’mon baby, don’t be mad. you did so good for me.” you cooed and stood up, bringing a hand up to cup his cheek making him look at you.

he looked at you, mad at himself for not standing his ground and folding like a chair so easily. but that look in your eyes made him smile, maybe it’s not so bad after all.

[masonmontz]

hello hello 🫶🏻

REMEMBER: english is not my first language

+18 smut - bj, the two of them tying each other up, dirty talk, pet name, a little bit of sub!mase word count: 3,7k

NOTES: this is not about their romance, there’s no romance in fact, i tried to write something different and i hope you like it 🤗(maybe I SAID MAYBE will be the part 2 or more bc it's an open ending) - don't wait for fluffy

✦‎۟ ࣭ ⊹

Mason tried but he couldn't take his eyes off you since you walked into that club.

The tight white dress really caught his attention, as did the high heels with the red soles. The red lipstick made Mason want to smudge it all over your mouth with a kiss.

And you noticed him too ‘cause Mason saw you look at him and smiled, taking a sip of your drink as you stared at him. It wasn't a normal club, the girls dancing on stage all night had only one goal, as did the men who danced shirtless and in suspenders.

Mason wasn't interested in any strippers, in fact he didn't come with that objective, he just decided to accompany the guys for a fun night. He just didn't expect to find something so interesting in a white dress and red lipstick.

And the best part is that you noticed him too.

You looked over your shoulder and walked to the bar, taking one last look at Mason before turning away. He didn't think twice before following you, ignoring his friends calling out to him.

You had your back to him and a dancer tried to stop Mason, but he just ignored her and kept walking towards you. Mason stood right behind you and you smiled because you knew he was going to follow you, and you turned in the seat to face him.

“Well, I thought it would take longer” you said and Mason smiled, shivering with your voice. He was mesmerized, Mason had never seen someone so beautiful. “Did you like what you saw?”

“I'm just thinking how much I like that red lipstick on your lips” he murmured and not even the loud music stopped you from understanding. “I’m Mason, nice to meet you.”

“I’m Y/n” you said and turned to order a drink, but Mason offered his glass to you. “What are you drinking?”

“Whiskey” he shrugged and you took a sip. Mason found the lipstick mark on the cup incredibly sexy.

“So Mason, what do you want?” you asked and Mason almost widened his eyes at you being so direct, but it was better this way than pretending you weren't interested.

“I- what?” he asked confused. “Well, it doesn’t matter if you don’t tell me what you want.”

“I wanna have sex with you and never see you again.”

Mason felt used, but maybe that's just what he does to some women. Mason prayed it was bad and he wouldn't have to see you anymore, because it would be a shame not to see such a pretty face again.

“Fine by me” he said even though it wasn't what he wanted to say to you. Mason would die to feel those lips just once.

Mason would be embarrassed to admit he was horny in the middle of a nightclub over a woman he hadn't even touched yet, but those eyes felt like they were fucking Mason every time you looked at his body. It had been a long time since he felt such a strong desire to have sex with a woman.

“Do you want to go to your house?” he asked, but you quickly shook your head and pointed at him. “Mine then.”

Mason didn't even bother to say goodbye to the guys before grabbing your hand and pulling you out of the club, not before paying your bill and his. You didn't say anything on the way, you just sent a message to the girls letting them know you had left.

Mason was even sexier driving and you wanted to give him a blowjob right there, but it was better to wait until you got to a safe place.

You took his hand that was resting on the backrest and brought it to your leg, Mason smiled mischievously as he squeezed the soft skin.

“You can touch me if you want” you murmured and brought your hand to his thigh, caressing it lightly and looking at him, who alternated his gaze between the road and you. “Don’t be afraid.”

“You’re the devil trying to kill me” you smiled and brought your hand to his crotch, caressing it over the fabric of his beige pants. Mason was hard and you noticed it as soon as you left the club, and you really wanted to touch him since you saw him for the first time that night.

Mason brought his hands to the hem of your dress and looked at you, who just nodded and allowed him to bring his hand to your pussy.

You sighed as he pressed a finger against your clit, and you tried to massage his cock through the fabric, but his finger inside you felt so much better and you couldn't concentrate. You spread your legs and prayed that no cars would pass by, because anyone would see Mason with his fingers stuck in your wet pussy.

You moaned and bit your lips, you took your hand off Mason's dick and held his hand that was on your clit, you pulled your white dress up and Mason could see your red panties that covered nothing.

Mason hated himself ‘cause he still had to pay attention to the road when all he wanted to do was stop the car and cum in your hot pussy. He pulled the small fabric of your panties to the side and you brought his finger to your entrance, making Mason feel how much you were dripping for him. He moaned when he felt the wetness and heat there.

“I’m gonna stop the car” he murmured but you nodded.

“No, someone can see us” You reached your hand down to Mason's pants again and unzipped him, putting your hand inside his pants and feeling his damp underwear. “You’re so big.”

He smiled and shrugged, and your right hand was on his cock and with your left hand you took Mason's fingers inside you, spreading your legs even wider as he penetrated you with two fingers.

You could barely masturbate Mason because you wanted him to thrust his fingers even faster inside you, but he still had to drive.

“Yeah this is so good” you moaned and tried to move up and down his cock, feeling Mason hard as cement. You're almost drooling as you imagine his cock dripping wet to fuck you, hard and veiny.

“You’re so wet” he mumbled and Mason stopped at a traffic light, and when he saw there were no cars around he leaned in and kissed you, finally smudging the lipstick like he wanted.

You moaned as Mason sped up the movements of his fingers, and if he was already good with his fingers, you couldn't wait to see the rest.

A horn took you out of the bubble and Mason sped up the car, wanting to get home as quickly as possible. Mason had moved away from you to drive and you decided to tease him.

You stuck your own fingers in your pussy and pulled them out, bringing them to his lips. Mason didn't think twice before sucking both fingers, licking and tasting the moisture there.

“Good boy” you whispered, and then you lowered the neckline of your dress so Mason could see your breasts, and he moaned when he saw your hard nipples waiting for his mouth. “This is all for you tonight.”

“Please, just masturbate me all the way home” he begged, but you laughed and nodded. You took his hand again and ran his finger over your nipple, and Mason spread you open with his fingertips. “I need to fuck you so bad.”

“How long to your house?” you asked.

“We’re arriving.”

You let go of Mason's hand and pulled on your dress, adjusting your clothes and reaching down to Mason's pants to button them up again.

Of course you rubbed his dick on purpose.

It didn't take long for Mason to stop in front of a large house, and you admired the building because it really is very beautiful.

Mason parked the car and you grabbed your bag and got out, and he quickly showed you the entrance to the house while purposefully rubbing his erection against your ass.

If he pinned you against the wall and fucked you there you wouldn't mind. Or maybe you'd ask him to fuck you on top of that Lamborghini.

You want to control him.

Mason took you to his room and you rolled your eyes when you saw how luxurious the room was, you knew he was a football player and earned millions, but they like to show off.

“All this luxury makes me horny” you mumbled and laughed, Mason smiled and you pulled him against you, kissing him once more.

You knew that the first time he kissed you in the car your lipstick had smudged, and when you walked into the house and Mason turned on the lights you saw his lips smudged with lipstick too. It was so sexy you could cum just imagining him with his lipstick smeared on your pussy.

“That's not very nice, I wanted to make you horny” Mason said and pushed you against the bed, making you fall on your back as he climbed up without letting his weight fall on you.

Mason took off his shirt before leaning down and kissing your lips hard, and you sighed at his tongue against yours.

“Do you have a tie?” you asked as he pulled away to pull up your dress and place his mouth on your nipple, and Mason raised his eyebrow at the request.

“Why? Do you want to be tied up?” you smiled mischievously and scratched his chest with your long nails, and Mason dodged because he shivered at the same time his skin burned.

“No, I want to tie you up” You took advantage of Mason being distracted and turned over in bed, placing him underneath you.

“You can choose the color of the tie” Mason murmured and he felt his cock throb at the thought of being tied up. He had never experienced that before and, well, it would be interesting.

Mason walked to the closet and you followed him, he opened a drawer with a tie and you took a black one. Luckily, he also had a chair in the closet and you grabbed it before leaving. Mason followed you.

You placed the chair in the middle of the room and took off your dress, leaving only your panties and hills for Mason. Mason took off his shirt and when he reached for the button on his pants you went over to him and stopped him.

“You won't take it off now” it was an order and Mason knew it. He obeyed. “Sit there.”

Mason sat in the chair and held out his hands for you to tie, but you smiled and followed him, pulling his arms behind your back.

“You’re not gonna touch me”

“Not fair.”

“It's fair, yeah” you tightened the knot and Mason's hands were trapped behind his back. You turned around and sat on his lap, pulling him in for a kiss. You were sitting on his dick and you could feel how hard he was. “Be a good boy for me.”

Mason closed his eyes and moaned, enjoying being dominated. Mason had never tried anything like it and he noticed that he liked it.

You stood up and Mason opened his eyes, watching you stop in front of him and pull your panties down, leaving you with only your Louboutin heels.

Mason licked his eyes as he saw the pussy in front of him. You lifted one of your legs and rested it on Mason's thigh, and he could clearly see the shine from the wetness there.

“You liked the view?” you asked and Mason agreed, so you smiled and sat in his lap. You grabbed his hair, making Mason look at you. You brought your hand to his chest and scratched, pulling your nail hard from his chest to his pecs, leaving marks.

You got off Mason's lap and knelt in front of him, watching Mason bite his lip as you looked up like the devil. You smiled and Mason knew that smile was capable of killing someone. A man.

You brought your hands to the waistband of his pants, lightly running your hand over the bulge appearing there. Mason sighed. You smiled. You opened the button and zipper, and Mason lifted his hips so you could pull his pants down, leaving him in just his underwear. You brought your lips to the fabric, leaving a light kiss on top that made Mason shiver. He tried to pull his arm away but it was in vain, because he was tied up.

A smile crossed your lips as Mason threw his head back, and you pulled down his underwear to watch his cock spring out of the fabric and rest hard against his abdomen. Mason shivered as you stared at his cock like it was a lollipop, you looked up only to find Mason's eyes desperate to feel your mouth around the length of his cock.

“What do you want?” you asked quietly, holding his cock with one hand and making light movements up and down, feeling it throb between your fingers. “How do you like it? Hard?”

Mason whimpered as you placed your palm on top of his cock, making circular motions as he squirmed in his chair, unable to get out.

“Please, put it in your mouth” he said in a whisper, throwing his head back as he felt the movements of her hand making strong movements around his cock. “Harder, please.”

As you made strong movements with your hand up and down you brought your lips to Mason's balls, he was so hard it looked like Mason was going to explode. You looked up once more and slid your tongue along his entire length as Mason stared at you, you brought a hand to his chest and scratched, seeing the marks you had already left there.

“Please, please…” he moaned when you finally put it all in your mouth, sucking Mason hard while what didn't fit in your mouth you masturbated with your hand. Mason was big and thick, and you couldn't wait to have that whole cock inside you. “I wanna touch you.”

“No” you held Mason sitting with one hand on his abdomen, licking his cock again afterwards. He was so beautiful that you could spend hours licking and sucking, without worrying about anything else. “You want to fuck my mouth?”

“Hell, yeah…” a hoarse moan left his throat and you felt your entire body tremble. Mason didn't seem to be thinking clearly with you making quick movements with your soft lips around his cock.

“Do it” you rested your hands on his thigh as Mason tried to lift his hips to fuck your mouth, and even tied up he had speed and you just looked up as Mason fucked your mouth like you wanted. “Oh my god I’m gonna cum.”

And that's when you stopped, taking his dick out of your mouth and getting up from the floor, hearing Mason complain. You walked and stopped behind him, bringing your lips to his neck and running your hands down his abdomen, reaching his hard cock and making calm movements, making Mason writhe in agony because all he wanted was to release himself.

“I wish you would suck me but I'd rather you fuck me” you whispered in his ear and Mason felt his whole body shiver with your voice, so you released the knot of his tie and Mason stood up quickly, pulling you into a hot kiss.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and moaned when you felt your nipples brush against his warm chest, and Mason walked over to pull you to the bed, but you stopped and held out the tie to him, lifting your arms. Mason's eyes lit up when he understood what you wanted.

“Tie me up” you said, and you almost smiled when you saw Mason’s smile. He tied you up quickly, but Mason glanced at the bed before you laid down.

“I'm going to tie your arms to the headboard” you agreed, and then you climbed onto the bed and crawled over there in your heels, sticking your ass out for Mason to look at.

“Oh Lord” he groaned as you turned over in bed and spread your legs with your arms up. He walked over to your side and tied your arms to the wooden headboard, and Mason quickly took off the underwear he was still wearing.

Mason opened a drawer next to you and took out a condom, and you bit your lip as you watched him put it on and climb into bed next. He held your legs around his hips and you wiggled, wanting him to penetrate you right away, but Mason smiled.

“Maybe it's my time to tease you” he murmured and rubbed the tip of his cock at your entrance, making you moan as he pulled out and did it again, teasing you without penetrating.

“Don’t you dare” you said angrily, but before you could say anything again Mason penetrated you all at once, making you moan loudly as he filled you completely. “Oh- this is so good.”

“Can I move?” you almost melted at the question, because even though Mason was so sexy, he was still concerned and kind.

“Yeah” Mason barely waited for you to respond before he started moving fast, and you rolled your eyes, unable to keep them open for long as Mason fucked you hard. “Yes… yes.”

“You’re so hot, this is so good” he groaned and you regretted the idea of ​​tying you up because all you wanted to do was scratch his back until you left marks that would last for a week.

“Don’t stop” you begged, you had been horny for hours and it wouldn't be long before you came, just like Mason.

It was only a few minutes of Mason fucking you until you felt your body tingle, and you tried to pull your hands from your tie to grab something, but Mason laughed at your desperation and lowered his head to bite your nipple, making you scream as you came around his cock, feeling your pussy throb against him.

Mason pulled his tie and released you, and you quickly brought your hand to your tits, seeking another release as your orgasm exploded inside you.

You moaned his name a few times and Mason held your legs, fucking you wildly and all you could hear was the sound of his skin slapping against yours, and it didn't take long for Mason to cum and throw his head back as he spurted inside you.

Mason's cock was throbbing inside you, and you were so sensitive you could cry, but you pulled Mason's hand from your thigh to your clit, and Mason raised his eyebrows in confusion, because you came ten seconds ago.

“Trust me” you said, and then made circular motions with Mason's fingers on your sensitive clit, and you moaned loudly once more as you came for the second time in less than ten seconds. Mason moaned softly as your pussy squeezed his cock again, and you closed your eyes and relaxed against the soft pillows of his bed.

Mason pulled out of you and now you felt only emptiness as you tried to control your rapid breathing. A few seconds later Mason threw himself down next to you, and when you opened your eyes you saw him staring at the ceiling.

“I didn't know that was possible”

“What?”

“Making a woman cum twice in a row.”

“Then you have a lot to learn about women, my dear.”

Mason let out a low laugh and looked at you, and you just smiled at him but closed your eyes.

“Will you sleep here with me?”

“Not even in your dreams” you murmured. “I need to go home, my fiancé is waiting for me.”

Mason would have laughed at the joke if he hadn't noticed the serious tone in his voice.

“Your what?” he asked with his heart racing. What the fuck?

“My fiancé” you shrugged and Mason really thought you were psychopathic or sadistic at that moment.

“You’re kidding” he said, sitting on the bed.

“If he thinks he can cheat on me, I can cheat on him too. I'm not cheating, I'm taking revenge.”

Oh my God. Mason is dizzy.

“So you used me? Just like that?” he asked indignantly.

“No, I really wanted to have sex with you and it was great.”

“Y/n you’re crazy” he said and threw himself on the bed again, trying to relax and hoping that no man would show up at his house tomorrow to punch him.

“Sorry but I need to go” you said and pulled Mason, and he accepted and gave you one last kiss before you got out of bed to look for your clothes. God, you hadn't even taken off your heels.

“I'll take you home, you can't go alone at this time.”

“I don't want you to take me home, I don't mind going alone.”

“You sure?”

“Just sex and we won't see each other again, remember?”

“Yes, sure.”

Mason didn't know if he was more frustrated that you used him to get back at your fiancé or that he never wanted to see him again because he really wouldn't mind having sex with you again.

He was naked in bed as he watched the most beautiful woman he had ever seen put her clothes back on and act like she had never seen him. It seems the tables have turned for him, and not in a good way.

“Thank you for this night and I’m sorry about this” you said and walked closer, giving Mason one last kiss and not accepting when he offered to go down with you to wait for a taxi. “Don't tie other women up, it's not cool.”

“Yeah right, I can't do this anymore because I'll remember you” Mason rolled his eyes but smiled at you.

“At least I know I'm unforgettable. Bye Mason.”

[captain-huggy-bear]

Marks on Your Skin

Pairing: Clayton Keller x Fem!Reader

Warnings: MDNI 18+, Smut/NSFW

Summary: Clayton is a big fan of that particular lipstick you always wear, the one that leaves red marks all over his skin. He particularly likes kissing it off of you

Notes: This wasn't supposed to be NSFW but it just led that way, still not confident in my smut writing so fingers crossed its not shit.

Totally happy to take requests/ideas/prompts at the moment in my ask box :)

Writing Masterlist

From the first moment that Clayton Keller met you, you'd always worn red lipstick. It was such a constant part of your everyday attire that he grew concerned when you didn't wear it. The days you didn't choose to put the red lipstick on were always the days that he knew you were feeling self-conscious, maybe body dysmorphic, not wanting the attention that a bright red lip would draw. On those days he always knew he needed to give you more tenderness, more compliments, more affection and love.

He was fond of the red lip look you always sported. Fond of the fact he could use it to tell your mood, that a dark red lip often meant you were feeling a little more angsty and 'vampy' as you'd put, a bright red lip showed you were more confident that day and no red lip a bad sign entirely. He was fond of the way the red looked against your skin, how it seemed to make your eyes pop and he was fond of the way you smiled more when wearing it.

Most of the time you wore a red lip that was almost impossible to budge, the sort of red lip that never left much of a mark behind when you kissed his cheek. But, sometimes...sometimes you wore his favourite lipstick on you. A true red that wasn't too bright or too dark, a red lipstick that wasn't immovable, a red lipstick that left marks behind whenever and wherever you kissed him.

Call it some sort of silly infatuation, a quirk of his or call it some sort of prideful desire to have your affection visible and littered across his skin, but whenever you wear that lipstick he can't help but goad you into kissing him, into pressing marks into his skin. It's like a switch flips in his head so that the only thing he can really focus on is that you're wearing that lipstick and how fucking good it looks on his skin.

The truth is it's not just Clayton who enjoys the perfect crimson lip shaped marks left on him. You only keep that lipstick for him, for the express purpose of leaving red lip prints across his skin. You'd have thrown it out ages ago otherwise. It was impractical, always rubbing off, leaving smudge marks around your mouth whenever you ate anything. You kept it for him. knowing that he'd coax you into kissing him the moment he saw you wearing it...not that he needed to know that. He'd be far too smug about it if he knew.

It was nicer instead to enjoy his reaction whenever he saw you wearing it. Like right now. Clayton had assumed when you said you were going to touch up your lipstick after dinner that you'd meant with the same lipstick, the bright red one that never seemed to budge except when you ate something particularly greasy. He hadn't expected the lipstick to replace it.

You could track the moment he clocked it as you sat back down at the restaurant table you had been having dinner at, how his eyes seemed to narrow on your mouth before blowing wide, pupils dilating like he'd seen his favourite dessert. Part of you wonders, as you try to hide your smirk, if you had managed to create some sort of Pavlovian response in him, trained him to expect kisses and marks whenever he saw that lipstick.

"Everything alright, Clay?" You're smirking as you see his reaction, unable to help it. It's hard not to feel a little prideful when someone like Clayton, your boyfriend, is staring at your lips so intently, looking at you with blown pupils all because you're wearing a silly lipstick.

"You didn't want dessert, right?" He doesn't even really wait for you to answer before his hand is in the air calling for the bill and you know he's got one thing on his mind: kisses. Silly red smudges across his skin that he'll refuse to wipe off until the morning when the red will have transferred onto his pillow and he'll have to get it dry cleaned to remove the marks.

"Maybe I wanted dessert? There was a very tasty look cheesecake on the menu." He's got his card out already, barely looking at the price of the meal before paying, perks of being an NHL star. It amuses you, how focused he suddenly is on getting you both out of the restaurant and home.

"I'll door dash you a cheesecake later, baby." It's an absent sort of comment, offhanded, as Clayton shrugs on his jacket before making his way behind your chair to help you into your own.

"What's the rush?" You put your arms through your jacket as he helps it onto your shoulders, not having a chance to reach for your bag before he's picking it up and handing it to you.

"You know exactly what the rush is, baby." His large hand is already pressing into your lower back to urge you forward and towards the door. Clayton leaning down as you walk to whisper into your ear, trying to keep a modicum of respect in a public place.

"Maybe I don't?" Your coy answer has his hand sliding from your back, over your hip and around your waist until he can pull you tight against his side as the two of you keep walking, "The rush is that lipstick." His breath is warm against your ear, the sort of temperature change that has goose bumps rising on your skin, a little shiver falling down your spine as a strand of Clay's hair tickles the skin of your neck.

"This old thing?"

"Don't play fucking coy, baby. Ass out the door, in the car, now." Clay's voice is low and gruff and while it sends a thrill through you, a wave of goose bumps across your skin, you can't help but laugh at him, a laugh that earns you a sharp swat to the arse the moment you're out of the restaurant and onto the quiet street.

"Clay!" You hiss at him even though no one is around at this time of night and all it does it earn you a second, harder swat that has you practically trotting to the car.

You learnt years ago not to even bother reaching for the door handle, waiting patiently by the car door even as you glare at your boyfriend for manhandling you.

"In, baby." Clay has the door open wide, tilting his head towards the car seat, gesturing you in. He's not smiling, too fixed on his goal, the sort of look you often see when watching him play out on the ice. All he's missing is that godforsaken mouthguard to chew.

"You're so bossy, Clayton." You say it as if it bothers you, as if you don't love the dynamic the two of you have where he's the decision maker, the one in control and you get to sit back and reap the rewards. You say it as if it's a chore and not one of your favourite things about him, that he's so natural at taking charge of any situation, so good at leading you.

"I thought you liked me telling you what to do, sweet girl?" The smirk he directs your way makes you freeze, warmth flooding your face because fuck, he's hot and you really, always manage to underestimate his ability to fluster you.

"Shut up." Your response only widens his smirk, a confirmation that he has in fact won this little tete-a-tete as you sink into the passenger side seat.

You practically hold your breath when he dips inside the door to buckle your seat belt for you. Clayton's so close as he does so that his hair grazes your chest, warm breath falling across your skin. His blue eyes have practically between swallowed by his pupils, damn near black to the naked eye.

The moment Clay is in the driver's seat his large hand finds the bare skin of your thigh, long fingers dipping under the skirt of your dress to feel your warm skin. His ring is cold against your skin, bracelets pressing in just as his fingers do, squeezing like he's contemplating leaving a mark there. There's something delicious about watching the way fingers flex, the tendons on the back of his palm shifting as he grips you.

There's a heavy sort of tension in the air, anticipation swirling around you and making you breathless or maybe that's because Clay's fingers wander at every set of traffic lights, fingers dancing higher up your thigh before easing back down. The sort of light, teasing motion that has goose bumps covering your skin and a shiver running down your spine.

It doesn't help that he's smirking the whole time, dimple on one side of his mouth prominent, eyes dark and lidded. He doesn't even have to look at you because even from his side profile it's enough to send a flash of heat through you, a sort of restlessness that fills you causing you to shift in your seat.

That doesn't help, if anything it makes things worse as the fabric of your panties catches and rubs against you, slick pooling between your thighs and he hasn't even done a single thing. The arrogance you know is going to fill him shouldn't be attractive, but fuck, you love Clay when he's a little less humble and little bit cocky. When he actually recognises how good he is. Because he is good, he's really fucking good at so many things and in so many ways, one being how he takes care of you.

"You alright there, baby?" It's the smirk in his tone that makes you squirm more, the overconfidence that tells you he knows how wet you are when all he's done is touch your thigh and drag you from a restaurant.

"Mmhmm..." You hum, not trusting your voice not to shake as his grip tightens on your leg, fingers dancing just a tad higher again as they slip under the skirt of your dress.

You're clamping your legs together before he can go any further, a laugh bursting from Clay because he doesn't need to feel you to know you're soaked for him. It's all there in the way you breathe shallower, the way you stop him from advancing, how you wriggle in the car seat like there's ants in your pants.

He doesn't try to wriggle his hand any higher the rest of the ride home, he doesn't need to, you're squirming enough without him touching you and he's more interested in getting you in, on the couch and kissing that lipstick off you.

There's a controlled sense of urgency to each of his movements as he pulls the car into the garage, turns the engine off and reaches for the door handle. His steps are quick and sharp as he makes his way to your side of the car, hands unbuckling you with efficiency before pulling you out and ushering you in front of him towards the house.

"Ass in the house, baby." Another swat to the ass has you gasping for third time, a glare sent over your shoulder even as it makes your centre tingle with want. Part of you wonders if his aim is to leave a hand print on one of your cheeks.

You're evidently not moving fast enough through the house for him because Clay's gripping you by the waist and all but tossing you onto your back on the couch as soon as a lamp has been turned on to provide a modicum of light.

"Clay!" You can help but laugh when he practically dives onto you, forearms resting besides you to keep most of his weight from body slamming you into the couch cushions. Still, your laughter is short lived, one of his hands curling around your calf to pull your leg over his hip as he settles himself between your legs and against you until you can feel him pressing into your centre.

"Clay..." You always get like this, whatever bravado you started the night with drifting away to be replaced by a shy sort of coyness, looking up at him underneath your lashes, cheeks filling with warmth, body squirming from nervousness. It's the intensity of him that does it, the way he stares at you so intently, blue eyes fixed on yours as he crowds you against the pillows so your world narrows to Clayton and Clayton alone.

"I want my kisses, baby," He's smirking at you, lips a hairsbreadth away from your own, his breath warm against your lips, nose brushing against yours. It's not like you didn't expect things to go this way when you put that lipstick on, but there's something about how direct Clay always is that makes you bashful every single time. The direct intensity when you were always so used to talking around the subject instead.

"Clay..."

"Need you to mark me up, baby," He pulls at the collar of his shirt to expose his neck more, chains on full display against his collarbone and you know there's no getting out of this. He's determined to have you cover him in kisses, to mark him in red lip prints until it's obvious who he belongs with. Not that you really want to get out of this, you can't help but love covering him in kisses, seeing your mark on him, knowing he's so proud to display the fact he's taken.

You're hesitant at first, amusing to him really, how you reach up to press a kiss to his cheek like it's the most scandalous thing happening right now, like he's not practically grinding his hard on into you or had his hand up your skirt tonight. Like you're not soaked. Still he closes his eyes and revels in it, in the feeling of your confidence growing as you press lipstick marks down his jaw, across his chin before hitting his neck.

Clay's always loved marking you up, but he can't help but shiver into the sensation of you doing the same to him, lowering himself till he's resting his weight against you. Groaning when you decide kiss marks aren't enough, confidence filling you at his reaction as you suck on the skin by his adam's apple until a deep purple hickey is left behind.

It's really like a switch flicks in your head when he groans like that, low in his throat, amorous. The feel of him hard and throbbing at your centre has your legs locking behind him to pull him closer, rocking against him, your hands finding their way to his hair, tugging probably a little roughly as you attack his neck with bites and kisses, sucking on each free patch of skin, laving over it with your tongue.

He practically has to tear you away from him, and when he does his skin is a patchwork quilt of purples and reds, his face littered with lipstick marks. Your lipstick is thoroughly smudge and worn away, red marks around your mouth, your eyes are hazy and blown and the way you pull him against you in an attempt to relieve the ache between your legs is enough to have him taking your mouth roughly with his own.

Clay bites hard on your bottom lip, hard enough you gasp, mouth opening on instinct and like he can't help himself his tongue slips in. He kisses like he plays hockey; hard, rough, passionate, biting and chewing on your lip like you're his mouth guard and you really can't complain, not when it has the warm feeling in your gut tightening like a knot.

He can't help it really, you've made him a Jackson Pollock painting and it's only natural that he wants the same for you, that he wants everyone to see you and know you're his, irrevocably and completely. It's only natural that once your lips are swollen and kiss bitten and you're squirming under him, that he turns his attention to the smooth and fresh expanse of your neck.

The whine you let out the moment he bites down on your neck, tongue laving at a spot until it comes up purple and bruised? That whine has Clayton grinning into your skin, rock hard in his pants as he grinds harder into you until you're moaning under him, because fuck...fuck, you're it, you're everything and it's nigh on impossible for him not to practically maul your skin, hickeys on every section until you match him. You can't stop moaning under him, whining at the way his mouth sucks marks into your skin, breaking blood vessels until he's written his status as your boyfriend on you in hickeys rather than ink.

"Clay, need you, please...fuck," You're soaking, slick between your thighs and you know your panties are sopping from the kisses that have littered your skin, from the grinding of his hips into your own. You feel hazy and dreamlike, moving on instinct against him at any moment.

The way one of his hands, the one with that goddamn ring slides down your chest, between your breasts and over your navel, makes you tug at his hair harder, his mouth still sucking hisses into your throat. Clay hitches your dress up around your waist without hesitation, fingers dipping beneath the waistband of your panties, to find you absolutely dripping.

"Fuck, sweet girl, this all for me?" He sounds wrecked, voice deep and gravelly as his fingers slide through the wetness at your centre, thumb just barely grazing your clit, fingertips circling your slit until all you can do is moan and there's a thought there that he could cum in his pants like this, like a fucking teenager because Jesus are you hot.

You can't find the words to respond, broken moans and whines as he slips one of his thick fingers inside you, thumb circling more purposefully around your clit and the feeling in your tummy, that coil of need winding tighter and tighter.

Clay pulls back from where he'd been practically nibbling on your neck to watch your face because shit, it might just be the most beautiful thing he's ever seen. Your eyes rolling into the back of your head, your mouth open, slack, moans and whines falling out like you can't help it, your neck littered in marks, a Monet of his affections...Shit, he wishes he had a camera on him.

One finger turns to two, twisting deliciously into your centre, thumb moving just slightly to the left in the way he knows makes your moans breathy and shallow as you struggle to catch your breath.

"Fuck, baby, gripping me so tight..." There's no way for you to respond, not when he's building you up higher and higher, closer to your release.

You practically arch of the bed, keening when he finds that spongy spot within you, then again, determined to hit it on each thrust of his fingers. When you manage to open your eyes, just slightly, he's smirking down at you, free hand reaching to grip your throat, not tight, just holding, thumb caressing just underneath your jaw.

"Cum for me, baby, you can do that right? You can be a good girl and let go for me, can't you?"

That's really all it takes for your vision to go white, your body to tense before completely relaxing, going boneless as you orgasm. Just his voice, gravely and over confident in your ear, the way he takes your ear into his mouth before nipping behind it. Your nails digging into his shoulders so hard he's sure he's going to have half moon circles imprinted there.

"There's my good girl...did so good, baby..." Clay presses kisses to your temple, your forehead, over your cheeks as you come down from your high, trying to catch your breath.

You wince a little, oversensitive, as Clay removes his hand from your centre and he's quick to press more kisses to your cheeks, "I know, baby, too sensitive, huh?" It's one of those nights where he can see that that's enough, your body not currently comfortable for more. One orgasm more than enough for now.

"But..." You start to protest but he knows it's not because you want more, it's because you feel guilty that he's still throbbing in pants, not having cum.

"I'm fine, baby, don't worry about it."

"But, you haven't cum, yet..." He's still hard against your thigh and you go to reach for him but his hands are gently grabbing your wrists pinning them by your head with a soft smile.

"You can make me feel good later, baby, if you feel up to it." It's his compromise because he knows you're oversensitive right now, can see it in the way you wince when your hips shift. He knows if he tries to get inside you right now you won't enjoy it and there's one thing Clayton cares most about when it comes to sex and that is your enjoyment. He'd rather die than have you uncomfortable in an effort to please him.

"You're sure?"

"Yeah, I'm sure, baby" He laughs, smiling down at you, "Just want to get you comfy and cuddle, yeah? I'm good." The smirk from earlier, the cocky overconfidence is replaced by softness, the sort of smile that makes you feel warm and fuzzy, his dimples on full display. His chain and a few strands of his hair dangling between the two you, making him look perfectly dishevelled, like it was planned.

"Okay..." It's the soft smile you give him that reminds him how easy it is to make those choices, to put you first because God, you're so grateful every time like it's not the least he can do. Like prioritising your comfort and wellbeing isn't the standard.

It reminds him that not every man you've been with has treated you the way you deserve and it's what makes his touch oh so gentle when he guides you up off the bed and helps you get changed for bed. Every move he makes is tender from the way he slides your dress off to the way he helps you step into your favourite pair of sweatpants. Even the care he takes him helping you wipe your make up off is slow, gentle to the extreme.

He helps you brush your hair, you insisting you look in the mirror at the same time, complaining that you look like he's mauled you to which Clayton laughs and simply gestures to his own neck, just as littered in hickeys. He doesn't even try to wipe red lipstick marks you've left on his skin off, smirking happily when he notices them.

You whack his arm when you notice the smirk and all he has to say in response is, "I like everyone knowing I'm yours, baby." The sort of response that has you unable to respond, too flustered as he pulls you into bed and against his chest.

As wriggle back against him, cocooned in his arms, he can't help but think he needs to have you mark his skin every day, so there's never a moment he goes without a mottled collection of hickeys across his skin. So that he's always got your mark on his skin.

[lil-elle]

Hello how are you??

I just read devoured your Riize reaction to reader giving them a hickey and I wanted to ask if you could do the same but instead they wake up with lipstick stains on their face?? Like on the cheeks, forehead, nose, the lips or corner of the lips even maybe the neck

I loved your writings so have a good day!! And don't forget to stay hydrated<3

HEHEH THANKS FOR ANOTHER ONE OF THESE (and for loving my writing, ily 🥹)

When you leave Lipstick Stains on RIIZE

pairs: bf!riize x fem!reader

genre: established relationship, fluff, slight suggestive

word count: 1.2k

content: kissing, making out

a/n: can shotaro be mine already- i mean what

Shotaro:

Wouldn't even notice at first, too busy rubbing the sleepiness from his eyes to see the lipstick smeared across his lips, jawline, and neck

He'd finally notice after pulling his hair back to wash his face, his face wash covered hands stopping right before they hit his cheeks and his mouth falling open with shock seeing red smudged from his lips to his cheek

Suddenly he's blushing like crazy zoning out while staring at the stains. You'd walk in on him just staring while calling his name with no response because of how mesmerised he is.

You'd tap his shoulder before realising why he's so zoned out, quickly blushing. He'd snap out of his trance and smile, turning to you and pulling you towards him

You'd look up at him in shock, still blushing hard from how reckless you must've been the night before. He'd quickly catch your lips with his, smearing the lipstick back on your lips and giggling when you bury your head in his chest

-

Eunseok:

“Huh.” He'd say, rubbing a finger over the stain and looking down at the red on his fingertip

A small pink tint would cover his face and ears, the thought of how your lips felt last night forcing its way back into his head as he presses his fingers to the stains over and over, smearing them even more

Would quickly take a few mirror selfies before washing the stains off, saving them for when he wants to tease you and randomly sending them to you when you're working

Would go on with his day after washing them off, every-so-often looking back at the pics he took and smiling to himself. If one of the guys came over to him and asked what he was smiling about, he'd quickly throw his phone down with a blush on his face. “Nothing!”

Now whenever you wear lipstick, he'd be unable to tear his eyes from your lips, his eyebrows furrowed while his mind runs through scenarios like crazy

-

Sungchan:

Would just stare for a moment, ignoring the slight pick up in his heart rate, maybe poking at it a few times as his ears go red without him noticing 

Quickly washes it off without too much thought, but soon finds himself staring at your lips whenever you speak to him or even if you're just sitting down on your phone or watching TV

Would start buying you different shades of lipstick as gifts, you'd just think he's being sweet but hjs ulterior motives are him wanting to see how well each shade transfers from your lips to his

Might see it as some kind of challenge to get as much of your lipstick from your lips onto his

He'd also want to see lipstick stains in many different places. Stains he doesn't find until he's in the shower and suddenly he has to rub a maroon lip shaped mark from abs

-

Wonbin:

He wouldn't be the one to notice it, it'd be a slight smear on his neck that he accidentally leaves there and goes out to see the guys. Maximum embarrassment when Seunghan points it out to him and starts teasing hum

He'd quickly rub it off in the heat of embarrassment, but he wouldn't be able to stop thinking about it for the rest of the day, his mind wandering and not paying attention to the members at all

When he's finally home, he'd see that you'd just got home from hanging out with friends too, lipstick pretty and red. Suddenly he'd be pouting at you while pointing at his cheek, wanting a kiss

You'd tell him that your lipstick would stain his cheek, but he'd insist, smiling softly at you when you finally do it and pulling out his phone camera to look at it, a pink tint creeping onto his face

His cuteness would make you pull him down to cover his whole face in kiss marks, making him flustered from your sudden actions, but happy once he sees the stains all over his face in the mirror

-

Seunghan:

Would smile upon seeing it, running a finger over his red lips and smudging it even more, the sight of how it spreads over his skin turning him on more than he'd like to admit

Another one that'd take picture of himself with the stains, except he'd absolutely be the type to post them on his private story and make you super embarrassed, berating him while red in the face as he chuckles at you being so flustered

Would tease you for being the one that stained him in the first place, jokingly calling you things like “a barbarian” or “an animal” for “being so rough with him”, faking hurt while holding back his chuckles

Would eventually hold your cheeks, telling you he actually love when you don't hold back with him. He loves when you show you want him to the point of kissing him so hard that your lipstick ends up all around his mouth. He'd keep saying things like that until you literally beg him to stop from being too flustered

He'd love taking you out on fancy dates from then on, knowing you'll get dressed up and wear super nice make-up with lipstick that he could then rub onto his lips at the end of the night

-

Sohee:

Would just be really dramatically flustered, rubbing at the stain with his fingers and accidentally smearing it everywhere. You'd catch him in the bathroom and you'd have to teach him that make-up doesn't come off that easy and he needs to use a wipe 😭

He'd blush as you wipe at his lips, silent for a moment before muttering gibberish about liking the stains and thinking your pretty and wanting to kiss you. Just random things that make you giggle

The type to be mesmerised whenever you've done your make-up really nicely with pretty red lipstick, not being able to take his eyes away from your lips and the way they look so glossy under the lights

His mind would be racing, almost desperate to get you alone so he can kiss that lipstick into an absolute mess

Whenever you'd be making out without make up on, he'd ask softly for you to go and put some lipstick or lip gloss on, loving the way it feels when he's kissing it off you

-

Anton:

He'd freeze for a moment, going red before quickly looking for make-up wipes to get the stains off, accidentally making loud clattering sounds and making you come over to him concerned

You'd giggle seeing him so flustered over some lipstick stains, calling him cute as he blushes and insists he just got caught off guard

I just feel like he'd love your lipstick and lips in general, would love having kiss marks on him or when you write him little romantic letters and put a kiss mark on the envelope. He's romantic like that

Would offer to put your lipstick on you when you're doing your make-up, and although you don't need him to, you'd let him, loving how excited and happy he gets when you say yes

He'd lowkey be afraid to kiss you when you've got your make-up done so nice, he wouldn't want to ruin it. That being said, he'd immediately get swept away if you kissed him, loving the way your lipstick makes kissing you feel so different and messier

-

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

TAGLIST:

@hyunromi @chocoeon @hyunukitty @minjaezed @ihyeokzu @cake1box @chiiyuuvv

[eccentricallygothic]

Can you write a dark!alpha Steve Rogers where his men start to speak vulgarly about his omega!assistant. You know just being very sexual and gross and Steve is just like absolutely not she’s my wife and decides to put his men into place.

Instead of punishing them he brings his omega in and has her suck him off for a good while. By the end her eyes are all watery and her lips are swollen (and maybe she was wearing lipstick that’s all smudged now) driving the men mad. As a final warning that omega is his, Alpha Steve takes his cock and cums all over her face. He makes her leave it on as she goes back to serving his men coffee and refreshments during the meeting.

Man, I hate how I love Steve. So sorry that this is thousands of years late. Hope you see it and like it still. Feedback is much appreciated. Unedited 🩷

Warning(s): Exhibitionism, dacryphilia, abo verse, m!dom, f!sub, blow job, deep throating, lowkey dark!Steve.

The rims of Omega's mouth felt puffy and numb, the corners of her jaw in pain that was ever-growing; courtesy of her Alpha's inhuman girth. 

Another thick, hot tear trickled down the corner of her flushed face and hung clinging to her skin for a few moments before dropping against the fabric of her pencil skirt with a loud pat. 

Such a sound is rarely ever loud enough to be heard in such a manner. But the dead silence in Steve Rogers' office provided that and the sound of her gagging the perfect atmosphere the ability to almost bounce off the walls. 

Her eyes were bloodshot, nose red and flared as she tried her best to breathe through it and move her mouth along his frankly monstrous length from her spot on the ground between Steve's legs. 

Steve; her husband, her Alpha, her owner. 

Omega did her best to fight against her tight little gag reflex that even after all this time of being together got easily triggered by his fat knot. 

At least, in the beginning. 

Because his wife was all about adjusting to him and his tastes. 

That had been her designated spot in their dynamic from the beginning.

Submit to Steve's authority and obey him without question no matter how depraved his demand or order may be. 

It didn't matter if his potential business partners sat across the table with their breaths heavy and eyes wide at the sight of her fucking her throat on her boss and husband's cock, nimble fingers gently playing with his heavy ballsack.

Omega's task at this moment was to suck Steve's cock and nothing else.

It didn't matter if her mouth felt coarse, or if her throat was trying to force itself shut due to the shame she felt in this humiliating position, the boss didn't care if his precum and your drool was dripping down his assistant's chin and making a mess on the expensive blouse he had bought her.

What mattered to Steve was that he was making a point. 

This girl, looking so pretty with her dark lipstick smudged all over her face and his cock along with her own fingers, lowering her face on his cock obediently until its imprint appeared against the delicate skin of her throat, a bubble of his precum that she would occasionally inhale on accident popping out of her nose as her claim mark nearly glistened next to the fancy pearl neckpiece that she wore, was his.

Body, mind, soul.

And none of these rich pricks would be allowed to entertain any fantasies about her.

As Steve pulled her face off him by her hair and grunted while pumping himself faster and faster to aid his thick, hot release, he knew his territory was marked when the shiny white blobs shot out of his tip and landed against her pretty face.

Omega was gasping for air as her eyes fluttered close, pussy thumping and clenching around air for more. 

Him. 

Steve hummed when he was done emptying his load on his beloved's messy red face until his cum coated it like a literal cosmetic mask.

She rose to her feet without protest or question about her own need when ordered, having been trained to always put her husband and Alpha first.

For good things came when he was pleased.

The slick between her legs was noticeable as Steve tasked her with going about her part in the meeting, slapping her ass for good measure as she walked by.

The sound reverberated off the walls in a manner that was nothing less of a warning. 

A threat. 

The men felt embarrassed under Steve's eyes when Omega bent to fetch the refreshments and as though it wasn't already noticeable enough, unknowingly made show of the huge damp spot that had appeared on her ass, extending downwards in thick streaks.

It was honestly commendable how she was managing with carrying out her orders as well as she was irrespective of how hot her insides were as they bubbled over and created an actual puddle in her panties that grew heavier by the passing minute. 

All of that was for Steve.

And no one else. 

Certainly not these pathetic men who could only enjoy an Omega out of force or payment. 

And never how Steve had while simply lounging in his chair. 

No.

They could never even hope for something similar. 

Steve made sure that they didn't.

For after they had left and he praised his Omega before taking her home to reward her for being such a good girl for him in more ways than one, he had made a phonecall. 

And the men were never seen again. 

They were made to vanish into thin air.

As though they had never even existed to begin with. 

[coryothesub]

To continue with the idea of Coryo wearing girly things, maybe Coryo will be caught wearing the reader's makeup.

Not me thinking about Coryo in makeup all day, because he would look stunning!

nsfw / mdni / sub!coryo / softdom!reader

Coryo had disappeared inside your bedroom a while ago and you started to get curious about what he’d been up to.

You opened the door and found him holding the mirror and looking at himself, wearing your makeup. Your beauty bag was laying beside him, all of its contents scattered on your bed.

You couldn't say it was the best makeup look, no, not at all, you could see that he’d been trying to apply your blue eyeshadow combining it with your orange lipstick. The colors were terribly mismatched and you could see he didn't have quite enough training in applying makeup too.

Coryo's eyes widened and he threw the mirror away as soon as he noticed your presence. He thought he'd get punished for taking your things without permission, but something about his clownish look made you feel soft inside.

“Oh Coryo,” you said, crawling into the bed and straddling his thighs. “Not so good at this…”

You spoke in a soft voice, not wanting to offend him. You just wanted to bring out his true potential of looking stunning in make up.

The blonde man pouted, but his face lit up again when you caressed his cheek and reached for the makeup removal tissues.

“It's okay, baby. Do you want mommy to make you beautiful?”

Coryo nodded and you started wiping the makeup off his face gently. He was looking up at you, so sweet and compliant, you loved it when he trusted you like that.

You finished cleaning him off and gathered your makeup items, trying to figure out the best possible combo. Then you brushed some curls off Coryo's forehead and gave him a little kiss.

“You look perfect just the way you are babyboy,” at that moment you were truly speaking from your heart.

“But if we want to spice it up a bit, I think a black eyeliner would fit you well. Should we try it?”

Coryo gave you another nod and you found the eyeliner in the bag.

“Now close your eyes!” You whispered.

Coryo obliged and you started applying the liner along his lashline, you had forgotten how tricky it was to put makeup on another person and the liner slipped a few times making you both giggle.

“Looks like we're going for some smokey eye,” you chuckled and blurred the lines along his lashline, making him look like a gothic angel.

Your heart skipped a beat when Coryo opened his eyes. He looked so hot, the dark liner bringing out his icy blue eye color perfectly. You couldn't believe that putting on a little makeup on your twink boyfriend would make your pussy tingle, but here you were.

“Do I look good mommy?” Coryo asked curiously.

“Hotter than ever,” you purred, eating him up with a lustful gaze and pressing your lips against his in a hot kiss.

Coryo grinned, running his hands up your thighs, he was catching up on how his makeup look made you feel and he certainly enjoyed it.

“Now, let's finish it off with a little lip color,” you brushed your thumb over his lips that were always so deliciously pink by nature so all they needed just was a bit of your rosy lip gloss.

The boy closed his eyes waiting patiently for you to apply it, you just couldn't contain yourself with his lips looking so plump and delicious and judging by the growing bulge in his pants the whole process was a turn on for him too.

A few moments later Coryo was laying on top of you, his big cock buried deep inside your cunt as you were looking into his smokey eyes that looked simply mesmerizing as he watched you with adoration.

Coryo kept leaving little kisses wherever he could reach and soon your face, neck and breasts were covered in sticky lipstick marks, leaving the lipgloss deliciously smudged around his mouth.

“Oh, baby, fucking me so good…” you praised him, feeling your climax approaching.

Your legs wrapped around his hips as you were looking to enhance the feeling of his hard cock hitting against your sweet spot. 

Coryo sped up the pace as you tensed up your muscles making your wet walls clench around him causing him to moan against your lips.

“Oh Coryo!” You screamed his name while cumming all over his dick and drenching it in your juices.

Your pussy convulsing around him brought Coryo over the edge and he filled your cunt with ropes of thick cum while whispering profanities against your lips.

You stayed like this for a while, wrapped in each other's arms panting blissfully, you felt like you could disappear into his baby blue eyes.

“You look fucking gorgeous, Coriolanus!”

“I guess that means only one thing,” he gave you the prettiest smile. “Mommy should make me beautiful more often.”

[kentocidal]

im back for my second request mwahaha

7. "i'm going to ruin that pretty makeup." + kaveh. butbutbut we’re ruining his makeup ): big crybaby with mascara streaks down his face and lipstick everywhere but his lips wahhhhhhhhhh

uploading kaveh12.txt . . . upload complete !

warning ! this file has been corrupted with the following malware: dacryphilia, dom!reader, gn!reader, feminization (if you squint? idk barely), kaveh is called pretty boy

internal messaging system: crybaby!kaveh has seemingly become my brand. also i am him so-

get your own file upload here !

you don’t even remember how you managed to get kaveh to do this for you. you supposed that he agreed because it was you asking him, not anyone else. or maybe it was because alhaitham wasn’t expected home for quite some time. it was most likely some combination of both.

(or perhaps it was because kaveh was so tense, so needy from your continued teasing all day, that he was on the brink of going insane.)

you had convinced your pouty, whining, darling boyfriend to put makeup on. just a little, not a lot. eyeliner in the lash lines, light blush and highlighter on his cheekbones and the tip of his nose, pretty lipstick staining plush lips.

his hands were curled into fists as you stared at him from the doorway of your bedroom. he scoffed at your face, turning away from you to look at himself in the vanity mirror again. “stop staring already, i know i look ridiculous!”

he was in his own head again. you needed to stop that.

you let out a breath as you approached him from behind, reaching over him to grab the little lipstick tube. you wrapped your arms around his neck from behind as you focused on yourself in the mirror, uncapping the lipstick and swiping it over your lips.

kaveh grunted, and you heard his breath hitch as your muscles flexed around his neck. you popped your lips and capped the lipstick again, setting it down and looking at both you and him in the mirror, smiling.

he opened his mouth to say something, but you grabbed his chin instead, forcing him to tilt his head so you could press lipstick-stained kisses to his cheek and along his jaw.

that was all it took, really. kaveh’s breath caught in his throat, hands shaking as you purred against his skin.

“what a pretty boy i have in front of me. don’t you agree, baby?”

“n-no.” kaveh grunted, trying to jerk out of your grip, smudging more of your lipstick along his skin. you laughed at him and nipped at his neck, making him gasp.

“no? what a liar. you know you’re my pretty boy, my sweetness.” you cooed at him as he stared at you in the mirror, eyes locked on yours and your lips. his hands shook in his lap, one reaching up to hold meekly onto your wrist.

you cracked a grin when you saw his eyes start to grow glassy and wet as your other hand trailed down the opening in his shirt, fingertips grazing so softly over his chest. “getting ready to cry already? what a good boy. i’m going to ruin that pretty makeup.”

kaveh whimpered and reached for the hand on his chest, trying to push it down between his thighs. “please, i’ve been good. touch me now, please…”

“let me see that eyeliner run and maybe i will.” you let him pull your hand downward over the tent in his pants as he started to whine and babble. you sucked a dark mark into his neck between lipstick stains, and he hiccuped when his breath got caught in his throat and thin black tear tracks started to drip down his reddened cheeks, staining them and pooling in his lips.

you groaned and palmed him through his pants. “good fucking boy. cry for me.”

kaveh whimpered and bucked up into your hand as tears pooled on his long lashes. he was always so beautiful when he cried.

you let go of him to tug his chair back and move him to the bed, knowing that his messy tears would make you need to change the pillowcases after you pound him into the mattress to make him sob.

[mrkis]

sensitive. (m.l)

PAIRING: mark lee x reader GENRE: fluff, smut WORD COUNT: 1.9k

SYNOPSIS: mark gets a boner from a simple kiss and you decide to help him out

CONTENT WARNINGS: explicit content, oral (giving), blowjob, slight hair tugging, small mention of spit, big cock mark always, exhibitionism maybe?

A.N: this has been requested. i'm not taking requests at the moment so please refrain from sending anything in. i wrote this because i am currently in mark brain and had ideas. also this took me like eight hours because @markiedub accidentally kept deleting it when she was reading lmao

You sigh softly as you check your appearance in the sun visor mirror of your car, fingertips brushing the corner of your lips to get rid of any excess lipstick that might’ve smeared during the journey and that your mascara hasn’t smudge across your eyelids. 

You had rushed your makeup when Mark had asked you out on a last minute date out of the blue and you were desperate to go out and see him, rushing around your bedroom to find the most suitable and clean clothing, and applying your makeup at the uttermost speed. You were so eager to see him that you really didn’t think twice about your appearance, not until you were parked outside the restaurant in the parking lot with only a few minutes left to spare before you had to make it inside for your dinner reservation. 

“What are you doing?”

“Making sure I look okay” You tell him, framing the hairs around your face and your shoulders slump in defeat. “I don’t feel okay”

Mark’s lips curl into a frown, “Why?”

“I rushed getting ready before picking you up, so my makeup is all messy and my outfit looks stupid, and—”

“No it doesn’t” Mark interrupts your rambling, a soft smile creeping onto his face as he admires you from the passenger seat. “I think you look pretty, really pretty” You side eye him and Mark immediately laughs, teeth sinking into his bottom lip as he smiles wider. “Yo, I’m serious… you look gorgeous”

Your head slowly turns to him as your heart swells at his compliment, the adoration and affection pooling in Mark’s eyes is enough to have you throw yourself over the console and grab at his face to plant your lips on his. Mark’s exclamation of surprise is muffled against your lips, not expecting you to kiss him so suddenly before he lets himself melt into your touch, eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks as he closes his eyes, craning his neck to kiss you deeper, with more meaning and love, with urgency. 

Every kiss you share with Mark is like the first, slow and tender. His lips make you feel dizzy, like you’re intoxicated and you yearn for so much more yet it never escalates further than a steamy make-out session with wandering hands that fail to go beneath the clothes. You don’t mind, to be honest, you didn’t want to force or rush into something that might make Mark stray away from you. The relationship between you two is new to you both, only having been official for a few weeks, so there wasn’t really any need to rush into anything… although, there were moments where you wanted him. Badly. 

As always, you’re the first to move away from the kiss and you snicker when Mark follows your lips, his own still puckered and waiting for you to return. You give him one quick peck before announcing you two should probably wait inside, making sure the engine is off and unbuckling your seatbelt to leave.

“Wait!!” The raised tone of Mark’s voice startles you and you jump when he reaches over to latch onto your wrist to prevent you from opening the car door. You freeze your movements, staring over at Mark with concern swimming in your eyes, wondering what’s going on and what was wrong for him to react in such a certain way.

You take note of the way his cheeks are tinted pink and how his neck is flushed, his chest raising and dropping frantically with each heavy breath he takes. His mouth opens and closes like a fish and the sight would’ve been laughable if you wasn’t too worried about his sudden outburst.

You watch as Mark struggles to form a sentence, the grip his fingers has on your wrist tightens as his head ducks down to his lap and your eyes follow slowly, widening as they see the obvious tent in his pants.

Your hand rips out of Mark’s grip as you slap it over your mouth to conceal your laughter which makes Mark grow even more red.

“Wait—I just—It’s like—I can’t control it!! It just happened!!” Mark panics, his hands waving in the air frantically before he grips the hem of his shirt, pulling it down to cover the bulge as he refuses to look you in the eyes. “I swear, I have no control over it, it just—”

“Mark, it’s okay” You reassure him as you remove your hand from your mouth, unable to hide the smile on your lips. Truthfully, you’re a little flattered that a simple kiss can make Mark react in such a certain way. It boosts your ego immensely and the thoughts that run through your mind are wild. 

He continues to act bashful, tugging his shirt down further but the friction of his shirt rubbing against the material of his jeans makes him still, his eyes widening as a stifled grunt seeps from his lips. 

“Mark…” You call his name softly and his head turns to look at you. You feel a little confident, maybe too confident as you say your next words, “Do you want me to help you?”

He blinks at you, “Wh—wait, what? What do you me—wait, no, oh my god, you don’t have to do that!! Just give me a few minutes and I’ll be—jesus christ!”

Mark curses loudly when you decide to bravely place your hand on his thigh, squeezing the flesh beneath your fingers as you lean closer to him. His eyes dart between your hand and you nearing towards him, unsure of where to look until your nose is barely brushing against his own.

“Do you want me to suck your cock?”

Mark swallows thickly and blinks, seeming not to trust his own voice as his head slowly bobs in a short nod, letting go of his shirt and dropping his hands to the side limply, watching as you work at the button of his jeans, popping it open and carefully dipping your hand beneath the waistband, cupping him through his boxers.

He exhales deeply, relaxing into the seat as he watches your ministrations with half-lidded eyes, bottom lip tucked between his teeth with his fists clenched at his side. You’re giddy as you free his hard cock from the restraints of his boxers, the size of him sending a buzz to your core and you meet his eyes with a surprised grin.

“What?” He questions with a quiet voice.

“Nothing. You just got a pretty cock to look at” 

Mark sheepishly smiles, unable to look you in the eyes as his chin tucks into his chest, cheeks dusting a slight pink once again but his mouth pops open with a short gasp as you slowly begin to pump his cock, hovering your lips above his cock and letting a wad of spit sit at the tip, using your thumb to smear it over the slit and head of his cock.

The sound of him whispering curse words through airy gasps is enough to urge you downwards, taking his tip into your mouth for a hesitant taste before pushing your head further down, taking his cock down your throat and swallowing around him as best as you can, wrapping your fist around the base.

“Oh my—fuck, oh my god” Mark whimpers out loud, pressing his fists to his mouth and biting down on his skin. You struggle not to smile at the effect you have on him as you bob your head, exaggeratingly moaning to send vibrations down his cock and his hips jerk upwards, a guttural sound coming from your throat as he accidentally chokes you with his movements.

He babbles out apologies after apologies, his hand coming down to affectionately smooth the back of your head, his fingers getting tangled in your hair and he tugs without realising when you hollow your cheeks around him, the burn on your scalp sending a shiver down your spine.

“Feel good?” You ask him once you let up for a moment to breath, using your hand to jerk him off as you look up at Mark who’s eyes struggle to stay open and he nods, untangling his fingers out of your hair to cup your cheek, his thumb pulling at your bottom lip and you lay a gentle kiss on the pad of his thumb. He smiles at that, head lolling to the side and resting against the foggy window.

You completely forget that you’re currently giving Mark head in a public parking lot and usually, under any different circumstance, you’d stop everything and probably drive away out of pure embarrassment from possibly getting caught. But seeing the euphoric look on Mark’s face and how strangely nice it feels to have him in your throat, you don’t care. You almost wouldn’t mind anyone walking by and catching the two of you in this position. 

“I think I’m gonna cum soon” Mark breathes out shakily. “Shit—no I’m definitely gonna cum soon”

“That’s okay” You coo, sending him a sweet smile before you swallow around him once again, tightening your throat around his cock and he whimpers loudly, his hand coming up to rest on the top of your head again.

“Where—fuck—where do you want me to, like, cum?” He asks you, and you hope he gets the hint when you bob your head faster, his cock fucking your throat raw. Mark calls out your name softly, tugging your hair slightly to pull you off of him but you resist, shoving your head further down, your nose brushing against his stomach and he moans. “Wait, wait, wait… you want me to… you want me to cum down your throat?”

You hum around him for confirmation.

“Fuck… fuck that’s so hot” Mark whines under his breath. He allows you to do as you please as his hand falls from the back of your head to find your free hand that's resting on his knee, his fingers intertwining tightly with yours, his thumb dragging over your knuckles in small circles and the second you squeeze his hand back, to tell him that you’ve got him, he cums in thick spurts down your throat with a moan.

He’s shivering and trembling beneath you but you take no notice when you’re too busy making sure you’ve swallowed every drop he’s giving you, sucking him dry until he physically can’t give you anymore and is begging for you to release him. 

His cock falls from your mouth with a plop and you sit up in your seat, glancing at the sun visor mirror like you did earlier before, stifling a laugh as you realise how badly you’ve definitely ruined your makeup this time, grabbing a few cleansing wipes that you had in your glove compartment, trying to clean yourself up as best as you possibly can even though there was no use.

Mark’s panting heavily beside you, his body jerking as he comes down from his high and he tucks himself back into his boxers. He buttons up his jeans as he turns to look at you and you meet his eyes when you finish wiping your makeup completely off.

“I think we missed our dinner reservation” You chuckle as you check the time. “Sorry”

“That’s a shame” Mark says. “I’m still hungry”

“We can go get takeout—”

“No. Not for that” Mark shakes his head quickly. “For something else. Something better”

“Better?” You repeat, raising your eyebrow suggestively as you lean back into your seat, crossing your arms over your chest. “And what would that be?”

“You”

©mrkis

[msgexymunson]

I got a transfer proof lipstick today and it kind of sparked something in me when I kissed my partner and it didn’t stain.

Eddie Munson would take “transfer proof” as a challenge. Maybe he was in a heavy make out session and noticed there wasn’t sticky lipstick marks on him when there should have been. He would spend hours trying to get any sort of mark because goddammit if he gets bested by a lipstick of all things.

Ahhh this is so freaking cute! This is only a small drabble, sorry for the wait! ILY 🖤

Masterlist

Breaking away from the kiss, you see a string of spit connecting your lip to his. Giggling, you wipe it away.

Eddie frowns, presses a hard kiss to your mouth, pulls away, and frowns again.

"What's wrong baby?"

"Why isn't your lipstick smudging?" He holds his hand firmly to your hip, tracing circles with his thumb. You're sitting in his lap, sitting side saddle, movie playing in the background, forgotten.

"Oh, its transfer proof! See?" Taking your pointer finger, you rub it across your bottom lip and show him your clean fingertip. Your lips remain cherry red.

"Witchcraft!" Eddie exclaims, eyes wide. You giggle, used to his antics by now. Pulling you forward, he brings you in for a devastating kiss. The ground feels like its dropping out from under you, you start to feel lightheaded as he moves his mouth over yours with as much passion as he can muster. You break away for a second.

"Eddie, what are you doing?" You're panting, eyes searching his.

"C'mere." He pulls you in by the nape of your neck. "For science."

[faces-ofvenus]

only you can paint my skin purple and red.

All this was poorly translated, I'm sorry, and I got carried away, as I said before, I'm not fluent in English, so forgive any mistakes

warnings: contains pornographic content, and minor explicit sex scenes do not read.

She with some other servants were preparing the bath for the young prince, Aegon Targaryen according to his name, he hadn't yet entered the huge space, probably drinking or hitting on some slut out there, she didn't even know why she cared in reality, she shouldn't call, she was just his servant.

— and is distracted you know how the prince gets if we get the temperature of his bath wrong.

Oh she knew all too well, anger never came on her but it was no surprise to anyone, Aegon blew up on everyone, he was known to get angry easily and punish everyone who took that side of him away, she couldn't think about it anymore, think about it. in him, not now, she quickly apologized to the superior maid, she was there to make sure no "accident" happens again, that's when the doors opened with a loud thud, which startled everyone, her eyes and Aegon's looked which it should be, but upon noticing the small smudge of lipstick and the faint smell of alcohol, your anger just bubbled up and you quickly dodged it.

"What are you still doing here, get out soon."

Usually he wouldn't do that, the maids were there to clean a job that the prince shouldn't have, but no one would have the courage to contradict him, she dropped everything that was in her hand and got up, she didn't want to look at him anymore, because she did you feel so betrayed? Before she could walk through the door like all the others, he stopped her by the arm.

— No, no, you are my little lamb, today only you will bathe your prince.

He took off his clothes slowly and y/n had to hold his breath, and sat down in the bathtub resting his hands on the round edges and eyes, waiting for his actions, she quickly followed him sitting on a stool and starting to wash him starting with his hands, and going straight to his chest, he then took her hand.

He looked to the side, and tilted her a little forward, if the tub wasn't high she would surely fall over, he looked to the side making contact with her.

— Why don't you look at me lamb, it's been so long that I don't see your eyes, I don't smell you.

“Maybe because it smells like some whore you and your brother picked up in some brothel.

She didn't want to sound so jealous, but maybe it wasn't as easy to hide as she thought, she couldn't control her breathing, it was so close to Aegon's neck, the one she always filled him with bites and hickeys, and now he it was right there, with one imprint of another. In a sudden movement Aegon pulled her into the tub, making her almost scream in surprise, he left them in one position, her dress turned out to be totally wet, she was sitting on his lap, his arms freely snaked around her waist, he was up to his ear and spoke, in that damn voice.

— What a beautiful mouth of yours, my love.

He leaned up to her face to give her a simple kiss on the lips and then bit down on them with a fervor that made her moan softly. You honestly didn't care anymore, you were so aroused under all the garments, which Aegon made sure to slowly take off until she was completely naked like him, he kissed her collarbone, kissed very close to her breasts, teasingly. , she knew that she couldn't move was a game to him.

— Do you really think I'd fuck any whore when I have you waiting for me like this, in my bathtub!?"

He kept nibbling at her neck, leaving some marks showing, he didn't want to hide it from anyone tonight, he never does, he marks his skin, as if he's marking his territory, a wolf with his rabbit, a dragon with his sheep.

One thing she hates and loves about the platinum prince is perhaps his unpredictability, he could do something she just couldn't have foreseen, even now when he lifted her up without any problem, she wrapped her feet around his waist and held him by the neck, an attempt not to fall, or maybe it's the fear that Aegon trips somewhere, as it is already night, and the darkness in King's Landing is capable of swallowing even the largest of the candles, the two of them wet he laid it down. in bed, without any care, soaking the bed with the water of their bodies, the prince climbed on top of her and attacked her lips and body, every part of her was filled with hickey kisses. He walked all over slowly until he got right in the middle of her pussy, she was aroused he could see it, could feel it, her fingers passed over her clit gently, making her shudder and beg for him in small pleas.

— No, not my sweet lamb, you underestimated the affection I have for you, and apparently I'll have to show you that again.

He stuck three fingers inside her, which made her let the air out of her lungs, he released her hand and she clutched the damp white sheets tightly beneath her, groaning and writhing Aegon, making not very gentle thrusts, while he trained this with a mother, his fur made small circles on her clit, his other hand travels to her neck squeezing it lightly while his mouth starts sucking and mistreating her breasts de y/n's arms clung to her hair white, preventing him from leaving, she was so close, her eyes were half closed, her mouth came out the worst fallacies, may the seven forgive her, but at that moment the only god she worshiped was the one who simply gives her pleasure like no other .

— A…ah me, I'm so fucking close.

He quickly took out the three fingers inside her, which only caused her regrets, she looked at him with a little frown, he gave her a white, playful smile, she knew the rules they set. She could hear his voice in her mind. "You can only come in one place remember?"

— Aegon, don't be so cruel hmm.

Trying to persuade him is a silly attitude coming from her, because she knows that begging him just makes you want not to do it, just to hear more of his pleas. He dropped everything and pulled her closer to him, her pussy almost touching his cock, but honestly their gazes never left each other her free hand went to the left side of his head, he crouched down almost touching her lips. She nodded softly, that was rare, but as the nights passed, Aegon began to worry about the pleasure of the woman lying in his bed, as he never cared about another.

He sank into her at an almost delirious speed now it was his turn to moan softly, his voice was so husky, so pleasurable, he wanted to taste everything she could offer him, and she was willing to give it all to him, just like that time he was also willing to do anything, just for the screen, deeper, of himself, slowly but not wanting to lose contact between them, they turned her between his knees, he pressed his fingers firmly on her waist but marks were his last concern at the moment, as he began the movements that drew moans from both him and her, y/n leaned over and marked him in every possible place, she would let all those women see, who the crown prince really belonged to, she would just stop simple when everything on his chest and neck was marked with red and purple, like a beautiful painting his work of art, which should be seen by everyone, his brothers, his nephews, his parents, his grandfather, everyone.

They were climaxing, she could feel it, from the way they both moved, in sync, their hair was plastered to their faces, their bodies were glued to each other, lewd sounds came out of their mouths without fear of being heard, the noise of their bodies wasn't silent either, they didn't need words to know what they wanted. And that's when she arched her body, seeing in her vision a wonderful starry sky, letting out a loud and uncontrollable moan, Aegon pushed her a little more, letting out throaty, her legs moving involuntarily, not wanting anything that was hers to come out of her. her, after all this was where she belonged.

When tired she lay down or rather, fell beside him on the bed, speechless, only with the sounds of their hearts beating, and their rapid breathing trying their best to get air, he pulled her to his chest, made light caresses on her shoulder, she didn't want to talk maybe wanting to assimilate everything that happened about 2 minutes ago, so he decided to take the reins, giving an explanation of everything earlier.

“Nothing had happened between me and her.

He might be talking about the woman who left a mark before her on his neck, y/n didn't know why he wanted to give her such satisfactions, he was a future king after all, a prince if we're going to be together.

— the only one I would let have this post, the only one who really has my body to mark the colors that I prefer, is you, so I made a point of punishing her by trying to have the audacity to do so.

He lifted her chin, making her eyes glued to his, and kissed her fervently, a kiss that she made a point of returning, clinging tightly to him, just as she did to her, and there they fell asleep, without even turning to sleep. worry, with the weight of explanations in the morning.

Any request for Aegon, Aemond, Jacarys and Lucerys can be easily fulfilled, ok.

[iwaizumis-bitch]

what makes them cum

content warnings: nsfw mdni, all characters are 18+, possessiveness, marking, oral (both receiving), size kink

multiple characters x female reader

the scream of his name as he presses his hips against yours once again, tip kissing your cervix. a ball of possessiveness filled his mind as the thought of you screaming anyone elses name like this, anyone else seeing you like this. his grip on your hips was harsh enough to leave bruises there for you to see for the next day but he didn't give a shit, because nothing else mattered at the moment except for filling you with his cum.

before he even knew it, his hips were stuttering as he spilled his hot cum inside of you, biting down on your shoulderblade and marking you as his.

IWAIZUMI, ukai, hanamaki, KENMA, sakusa

the sight of mascara running down your cheeks, bright lipstick smudged everywhere as your lips stretched around his cock, still sucking after the rough face fucking you just received.

'still sucking after all that, hm?', he teased, not breaking eye contact with you.

you hummed around his cock in response, sending vibrations through his shaft as you pulled off with a pop, sending him an innocent smile before swallowing and lubricating your mouth again, before placing your lips around just his tip, sliding your tongue up and down his sensitive slit as his orgasm washed over him all of a suddden, painting your tongue white.

tsukishima, BOKUTO, daichi, KUROO KUROO KUROO,, oikawa

the way your pussy clenches around him, practically milking him as you let soft little mewls out right next to his ear, telling him how big and strong he is and how you're gonna cum so hard. it's the way you keep telling him how much it hurts and he's not even moving yet, just letting you adjust to his size as you let out a sweet gasp, rocking your hips slightly. his hands find their way to your hips, sending one cheap thrust into your spongy spot, as he came at the same time as you, a deep groan leaving his lips.

USHIJIMA WAKATOSHI, kyoutani, tendou???,, ISSEI<33, miya twins <33, aran

the taste of you. he's on his knees between your spread legs absolutely devouring your sloppy cunt. he relishes in your sweet moans as he humps his cock against the front of the bed, sweat dripping down his forehead. you're close to your maybe 5th orgasm, when he finally reaches down with one hand and starts to tug at his cock, shoving his nose into your pussy as he inhaled your scent,. ribbons were shooting from his cock as you gushed all over his mouth and chin, broken moans barely audible over the ringing in your ears before you passed out.

HINATA, BOKUTO, lev......, GOSHIKI OMG, dare i say NISHINOYA.....??,,, atsumu

taglist: @izulve @ochakoakabane @rinny-babe @poemsrzdy@kageyama-i-want-tobiors @d1lfluvr @chaotic-fangirl-blog

[aerodaltonimperial]

Okay, prompts. [Cracks knuckles]

1) Hook walking out for a match absolutely COVERED in hickeys and black lipstick.

2) baby Hook meets indie Danhausen

3) Hook breaks his "suspension" to come to Danhausen's aid OR Danhausen whoops The Firm's ass for getting Hook "suspended"

4) sleeping beauty AU esque situation; who knew Hook COULD be cursed???

5) Hook secretly has a huge sweet tooth, but chocolate chip cookies clash with his gimmick, so he can only watch longingly as Danhausen is gifted homemade sweets by various colleagues

Okay, Jack is panicking. He's good and panicking, because they are set to go out for their second tag match in less than five minutes and his tag partner isn't here.

Okay. Everything is fine. Everything is fine.

He can do this on his own....somehow. It will all work out, right? Maybe he'll die, but at least he'll go down with dignity. Or something like that. Yeah, that's the panic talking. He wrings his hands in front of his body, wishing he had never risen to this challenge. Wishing he'd never agreed to tag again. Wishing—

"Sorry," Hook says, out of breath as he sprints up to where Jack is standing behind the tunnels, the ones that are half-hidden now, tucked behind the screens.

Jack is about to yell at him, but he stops. Stares. And Hook notices the intensity of the look, rubs a hand along the back of his neck as though the scrutiny embarrasses him. "What?" he asks.

"Uh," Jack says, because how...does one phrase this correctly? At a loss, he raises one finger and just sort of gestures at Hook’s neck. And collarbone. And shoulders. And he is so absolutely not gesturing any lower than that, despite the fact that the smudges of black most definitely continue beneath the waistband of his shorts.

Hook's face blanches. His chin cranes down, looking at the evidence that is, quite frankly, strewn across his skin, a constellation of black paint in long drags. "Fuck," he hisses, rubbing at one of the marks smeared across his chest, as though it traced the border of his pectoral muscle.

"You, uh, need like a towel or something?" Jack asks. He's trying really hard not to laugh, which he thinks he should get credit for, because...come on. Hook is covered.

"Jesus Christ," Hook mumbles, and holy shit, his face is bright red. Jack had never seen anything like it. He's frantically rubbing at all the marks he can see, but he obviously can't see the ones that have been pulled up along his jaw, as though someone drug their mouth straight up to catch his earlobe.

"So I take it you guys got back together," Jack says. He takes pity on the man; Hook looks a half second away from bolting and never, ever coming back. "That tweet really worked, did it?"

"Please don't," Hook pleads. Jack grabs a towel from the stacked bleachers nearby and starts trying to get one of the marks on Hook’s neck off. His ears are positively crimson.

Jack bites back a laugh. "Look, dude, I'm not judging, but, y'know, people are gonna figure this out. Not many people wear black lipstick here."

"I...I don't..." Hook's at a loss for words, doing bid best to smudge off the black heading down, down, down. Ha. Jack's gonna use this against him for years. Hook looks up, helpless, eyes wide. "Please."

"Yeah, I'm trying," Jack says. "But after this, you owe me, you know? You owe me so much."

"I'll do anything," Hook mumbles. His cheeks could rival a traffic light, they're so flushed. "Just please don't tell anyone."

"I won't." Jack pauses, gets one of the marks beneath Hook’s chin off and wipes his fingers on the towel. "Things seem good."

When Hook stares at him, a deer in the headlights, Jack grins. "Good, right?"

"Yeah," Hook mumbles, ducking his head down like he can hide. "Things are good."

"Happy for you, dude. Mostly cause I was afraid for awhile there I was gonna get killed or something."

Hook might huff out half a laugh, or kind of a sob; Jack can't tell. He just smiles, continuing to wipe what he can free, with warmth blossoming through his chest, because, hey. It's rare that people like them get happy endings, right? Nice to see it finally working out.

"Hey," Jack says. They've got most of the evidence off now; small favors.

Hook raises his gaze again, questioning. And Jack shrugs. "Thanks for being my friend anyway."

Something in Hook’s face softens, ever so slightly. Not for the first time, Jack thinks Hook was just as desperate for a friend as he was, lonely in a way the word can never wholly describe.

"Yeah," Hook says, the corners of his mouth curving up a little. "You, too."

"Let's go kick some ass?" Jack offers.

"Yeah," Hook agrees, with more strength. "Let's go."

[soranihimawari]

24-hour smudge proof

A short about something I saw earlier:

Word count:

Pairing: friends->lovers: kuroo x reader

Rating: 17+

Warnings: two 18 year olds have miscommunication & make out

Notes: in my inbox drafts for a while…unedited 😑

𝖴𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝖺𝗅， 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗂𝗍’𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝗅𝗈𝗌𝖾𝗌𝗍 ．𝗀𝗂𝖿 𝖨 𝖿𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗁𝗈𝗐 𝖺 𝗌𝖼𝖾𝗇𝖾 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗋𝗍𝗌

You remember the first time you tried the new Revlon Color Last lipstick. It was advertised as a 12-hour formula for lasting lipwear. Smudge proof. You nearly hugged your television when you turned eighteen. Y’see your school and even your parents were on the side of “no make up unless special occasion (or club activities for festival days)” where as being in the makeup department for theater and arts club were the specialty clubs excused.

You loved to paint, more with eyeshadows and foundations, yet here you were at eighteen, sprucing up your natural makeup with a Sakura-pink hue. It’s the most flattering pink you own outside of Barbie doll fuscha and not as mature as Snow White Red which came out that year. Contrary to popular belief, you had just been asked out on your first date by your classmate since middle school—he played a team sport and on good faith asked if you were free Saturday night. Mentioned he’s been thinking about confessing for a little over a year now, so you agree. Today was just a test date, you remind yourself in the mirror. Liking each other has little to nothing to do with this. Little do either of you knows you’re about to embark on learning a more intimate part of the other.

So, you board the nearly packed train to the aquarium. A few minutes go by and you see him at the entrance. He’s dressed just as casually as you are, and you notice he has a small token in his hands. He hands you the hair pin with a cat on it.

“Flowers were too expensive,” he sheepishly apologizes.

“Thank you,” you smile telling him it’s alright. “I think these are way better Tetsurō.”

You’re calling him by first name? His heart nearly falters at that. Blinking golden irises mask the blush forming on his cheeks. Jesus, you should warn a guy when you’re gonna call them by their name, his inner voice says.

“You look cute,” he gets his bearing right.

You compliment his outfit too. He holds your digital tickets on his phone and a polite, “shall we?” is heard.

You hold his hand as you take the lead in guiding him in where you want to go. Both of you explore the monthly exhibits and the classic shark aquarium. You take photos together with a seaside frame. He keeps the bottom two that print and the top two go to you; you’re securely tugged into his side and the bashfulness in your closeness is masked by a near kiss when your lips almost mark the corner of his mouth. He slyly teases you by smiling a bit wider a little more shocked in his expression on the second picture. maybe it’s your favorite one because for a moment, though brief, you can say with confidence, Kuroo Tetsurō, Nekoma Third Year, the scheming captain, had eyes only for you.

The rest of the date goes on as sweetly planned. It ends around dinner time and you coincidentally knew of a small French restaurant that won’t break the bank. He walks with you, talking about how excited he is for inter-murals to start.

“I’ll be there,” you smile. A small fist is raised moderately high and you hear him chuckle.

“You better be,” he holds your hand and pushes it down.

“Kuroo…,” You don’t fight the comfort his hold brings. Rather, you relax your hand in his.

“YLN.”

“…I, how can I say this?”

You’re nervous, he can tell by how tense your shoulders are becoming.

“I’m not the one you should be here with,” you say after exhaling a deep breath. There is a brief look of embarrassment on his features. Still worried about that? Why? He ponders.

“If you’re implying I should be here without you, then perhaps I wasn’t very clear when I asked you on this date,” Kuroo leans forward to bring a kiss to your knuckles. “I lied about using you to go on this date because I liked someone else.”

You feel your blush only adds to the stunned look you give him.

“Eh?!”

“Shh!” An elderly couple hushes you, unaware of what had transpired. Kuroo shrugs and you lean back uttering how you’re going maim Morisuke for gossiping behind your back.

“Hey, hey,” Kuroo brings your out of your two step plan to ruin Morisuke’s chances overseas as a joke. “Breathe.”

You do exactly that and as you calm down, you hit your head on the table with an a abhorrent thump!

“Should I come back?” The waiter had graciously brought you your meals, but alas, when your non-date-date explains, the server just rolls their eyes saying it’s the fourth time this week. You nervously laugh saying to come back, apologizing for the scene.

Over the course of the meal, Kuroo is an open book to any and all questions concerning his newly formed affection for you.

“About a month ago?” You nearly choke on your chai tea.

“Promise you won’t beat me up too?”

You nod. “It depends.”

And so, Kuroo enlightens you the thing known as ‘the list.’ All captains of the sports team have a yearly list of people they think are highly attractive.

“It’s for the yearbook, that’s how it started,” he explains.

“…okaaay…?”

Then it dawns on you, someone put your name on the list. That someone being the jerk who couldn’t take no for an answer.

“And I told him no one can have you unless I try first.”

“How chivalrous of you,” you muse, yet you have a darker expression set in. Kuroo thought you were angry about being on the list, you were, but that’s not why.

“So you basically asked me out to save me the embarrassment from some other guy?!” You’re whisper yelling now. “That’s even worse than being asked out on a date or a bet! Tetsurō, we’re friends, why didn’t you just tell me?”

“Are you really that mad at me?” his voice is more shocked than anything. “Oh, oh no.”

You’re pretty face looks crestfallen when you abruptly stand, thank him for spending time with you, but you leave. He doesn’t have the heart to stop you, it was a fifty-fifty chance you’d be highly upset. Kuroo didn’t know it would be the worse possible outcome.

You don’t talk to him for three weeks. Avoiding the captain is easier because outside of the shared classes you have third years, you pay him no mind. Kai and Morisuke are mortified when Kuroo tells them what occurred, but one of them enlightens their captain as to why you were so angry (something about it’s your choice who to date and who to decline that privilege and though his heart was in the right place, Kuroo took away that power of choice from you).

Within that time, the silence had become too much. You still talk to the others just fine from the team, but you still ignore your friend. You’re having trouble processing the fact he not only confesses, yet finding out about “the list” as the motivator for Kuroo to finally confess doesn’t sit right with you. Texts and calls slowly diminish until the screen with his name has been made up of dry humor and possibly even drier “how do you do’s.” None of which go answered for days at a time from you.

Kuroo eventually gets sick worried over how cold you’re being. First it starts with him being more introverted than before. It was like he reverted backward to when he was in elementary school: shy and observant. Then came the skipping of meals or barely eating because he would spend lunch breaks with you or vice versa; his bentos usually taste the best when shared, so why would he eat only a little less than half? After the terrestrial downpour which started over the weekend, Kuroo forgets his umbrella and catches the worse cold he’s had since the flu came around the first year hallway two years ago. You don’t find out any of this until you’re pulled out of class by Kenma of all people.

“Kodzuken?” you say flatly. “Kuroo sent you too?”

“No, he didn’t.”

“You’re here about what happened?”

The duo toned kid nods.

“I know about the fabled list. I’m on it, aren’t I? Did you know too and you’re here to beg forgiveness on his behalf?”

“…he’s been dealing with a fever, so he’s not here, I’m here because I told our mutual best friend to tell you the truth and he does care. He’s an idiot you’ve known this.”

“Rewind, he’s sick?”

“Kuroo’s been sort of depressed since he came back to school and he’s been stressed since the upcoming practice match with Karasuno. So,” kenma looks at you. “What are you going to do?”

.

.

.

You never bounced your leg out of habit with anxiety, yet you do so as you sit on the train en route to Kuroo’s. He may be an idiot, but you still care. Sure, you needed a month to process, yet Kenma of all people talked you into seeing the scheming captain on a whim. Your texts and concerned voicemails are delivered, but not replied to, so you take it upon yourself asking for extra worksheets and assignments used for his classes. Kuroo and you were varied, but balanced students, so it was no problem to hand over the coursework to you. The teachers were grateful, even Nekomata-sensei.

“Team and practice needs their captain, yn-chan,” he pats your shoulder.

“I know,” you answer. Small smile drags across your face.

Now outside the door with the inscribed Kuroo plaque, you knock on the door twice. By the third and final “panic” knock, Kuroo swings the door wide open. His gel pack on his forehead slides askew, he’s wearing a Christmas sweater you got him with sailor moon motifs at the bottom, and his nose is a little pink. Kuroo is worse for wear, but boy does his heart leap when he sees a concerned you fussing over his cold. His pajama pants are a day old and he stands aside while you bully yourself into his abode.

“…and these are from physics, college algebra one, and—”

“YN,” he interjects.

You ignore him.

“Modern English and Japanese are here in this folder, history there…”

“YN.”

He is holding every paper you hand him, placing the neat stack on the kitchen coffee table now. Stepping toward you, peeling the gel pack off, Kuroo grips your shoulders, relief written all over his features, and he shakes you gently after explaining you can stay if you like.

“We have time,” Kuroo gives you a soft stare.

You frown with your brows, but his clammy hand cups your face instead. Heeding his request to breathe with him, he sort of wears a lopsided smile. You’re here, for him, worried and upset he didn’t take care of himself like he normally would.

“YN, I’m fine. You’re here to make sure I didn’t die, yes?”

“But you got sick because I stopped talking to you, Kenma said so.”

Kuroo waits for you to stop rambling on about how you heard second hand how he got sick. His palm never stopped rubbing your cheekbone. You ramble when you’re worried, he can hear the unsure breaks in your voice.

“Oi,” His body stands closer to you now.

Quickly, one arm steadies your shoulder, the other snakes around your hips and he abruptly pulls you forward and higher. Your eyes focus on the ground instead of where Kuroo’s seem dead set on. You continue going off about derivatives until Kuroo leans down and kisses your lips shut. It’s a bold move, one he’ll regret later passing on his cold to you, useful and effective. You feel his smile against yours when you instantaneously hold him by his plush sweater. The stronger the grip you have, the more you’re losing your stance on annoyed refined and well placed anger—then it takes you a full fifteen seconds to start kissing him back. He gasps a little when you sneakily slide an arm across his broadening shoulders. Gods you drive him insane, even if you want to part, you can’t because the second you do, Kuroo’s breath dances across you Cupid’s bow.

“Can you be quiet for a second?”

Your noses bump against the other as you nod. Eyes opening back up wide, yet drowsy have a flirtatious gleam reflect back to the other. You inhale briefly tilting your head to one side a little curious in the expanding silence.

“Good because I’m about to kiss you again with your permission, ok?”

You blink, understanding whatever he just said meant and you easily lose the shake ground you formerly stood with him. Hungrier and greedy, that’s what his lips are; tender with promise are how his arms holds you; and when you lead, you feel his heartbeat through the sweater. Your cool hands sneak underneath the fabric and he stutters, almost slipping his tongue into your mouth again.

“Careful,” The word is swallowed by your mouth on his, returning the adoration felt from him.

This goes on for five plus minutes until he pulls away to a disappointed you. He sort of chuckles when you answer if it was something you did. Pulling down your uniform shirt and you his sweater, you stay comfortably close.

“No,” Kuroo slyly smiles. His hands play with your hair trying to smother it down now. “You just…?”

“Mm, so I did,” your middle and forefinger press against his pursed lips. Mirthful laughter behind graham cracker hazel eyes and your stifle giggle has kuroo biting an embarrassed smirk into the crook of your neck. You’re affectionately running both hands through the roosters nest of noir hair and he thanks his stars you forgave him.

“Don’t care about some stupid list,” you say. “And yes, whatever we are now, we’re going to be just fine…”

Kuroo just lets out a sputtered laugh before biting your cheek affectionately.

“Be my girlfriend,” his voice is saccharine brimming with forgiveness. His lips press against your higher cheekbone this time, feeling the muscles twinge with a small smirk. You remain quiet though. “Please, YN?”

“Well, since you asked so nicely, I think my sick boyfriend should go back to bed, hmm?”

You pat his shoulder when you wiggle out of his hold in his family kitchen. Unbeknownst to either of you, the front porch door chime had rang signaling someone’s return home. Thank goodness you two sat at the kitchen counter talking about how math these days are filled with nothing but the minimum calculus equations both of you have come to like; physics can wait.

Both Kuroo and you, for now, talk about finding limits, yet the laws of thermodynamics can wait when he shows up to classes two days later and you? Over the weekend, you text your boyfriend from bed, cursing him out for all those times you and him spent time together (though brief) because now you’re about to find out just how spoiled being Kuroo Tetsurō’s significant other actually is. And believe you me, it’s quite fun having him come over with some rice porridge from his granny, have him help you out of your blanket burrito, just so you could sit side by side and watch a comfort film—typically a musicals—and a majority of the time he comes over after you beat the flu, he helps you test out all twenty four color last lipsticks. His favorite one? The one you continue buying for three years until they discontinue the old formula.