#WEAR AN UNDERSHIRT OR SOMETHING AT LEAST

[penofwildfire]

I swear to god they make these design choices just to piss me off

[spilledkaleidoscope]

Sorry I only sort of mean this in a horny way but I loooove the attention you pay to Harriet's cleavage. They look like real boobs! They've got weight and heft and just <3 <3 <3 not enough artists in the world have that level of commitment to realistic breasts and I appreciate it so much

Full on horny way would be fine too! I do pay a lot of attention to weight in my drawings and I'd be lying if I didn't say I can be a bit lesbian about it.

And sidenote in this particular case? I wanted to make it evident that she is not wearing a bra (I feel like that one might have been on the fan in the whirling until after the tribunal clean) soooo

[miss-floral-thief]

kinda bs that weight gain might make your chest grow but if you lose weight it wouldn't necessarily shrink your chest

[mercuriallily]

One of the things that bothers me the most about the Until Dawn remake is the lighting at the beginning

The game takes place in Canada in February. The sun goes down at about 5PM during that time. Sam arrives around 9PM. It looks like it's 4:30PM

Are the devs unaware of how Canadian winters work

[hxney-lemcn]

I Got Reincarnated as an NPC From my Favorite Video Game and the Protag Won't Leave me be! — Hyrule Warriors! Link x gn! reader

summary: hit by a car, you find yourself transported into a video game, and it's just your luck the protagonist falls for you.

tw: death, drunk kiss/confession (that gets rectified)

a/n: I MADE IT! I did so much research about medieval times for this fic I feel like a scholar.

wc: 4.6k

Master List

It happened in a split second. One moment you’re crossing the road, the green walk signal lulling you into a false sense of peace, then you’re tripping on a crack in the road causing you to drop one of your bags. You quickly scramble to pick it up, only for a loud horn to blare, a screech, and something hitting you full force, knocking you unconscious. 

You woke up in a daze. Your mind felt completely blank at first, eyes squinting as you woke up to scratchy sheets and pillow that did not support your head that well. Then it seemed to all come to you at once. You were on your way home from a small grocery run, then something hit you. Adrenaline filled you as you tossed the blanket to the side, inspecting your body for any damages. Odd, not a single blemish on your skin besides some calluses that lined your palms. Strange becomes stranger. It was then that you looked around the room, expecting to find yourself at the hospital, but instead you felt your stomach drop. It looked like you were in some medieval historical museum.

What the actual fuck was going on. 

You stood up, legs shaky. The room was small, it held a bed, a wardrobe, and a small fireplace. You felt all out of sorts, looking down at the long white nightgown that you donned. You weren’t sure what you would find when you descended the stairs that led out of the room, so you decided to check the wardrobe for a change. Perhaps that will help you feel a bit more stable doing a routine you were familiar with. Wrong. The wardrobe was filled with…tunics? There were a variety of colors, some with long sleeves, others with no sleeves, some beige, others vibrant colors. You felt way too out of your depth at the moment. Taking a deep breath, you tried to calm yourself, your mind was in overdrive and you needed to take things one step at a time. 

With shaky hands, you grab a long sleeved beige tunic. It seemed like that was the first step, it looked like an undershirt. Placing it on the bed you went back to look over the more vibrant tunics, some with short baggy sleeves, others with no sleeves at all. It would make sense the tunic that is more flashy would go on top. Picking out a color you liked, you placed it next to the first tunic. Next you went to search for pants, most were brown or beige, picking the one that matched your chosen tunics the most you finally were ready to change. 

You wished you had a mirror to see how you looked, but you suppose they weren’t as common in this time period. What the hell were you saying? Time period? Had you really gone back in time? No, don’t think about it. You took in another deep breath. At least the clothes were really comfy. Why the hell had people stopped wearing these? 

With a long sigh, you decided it was finally time to tackle the question of what was beyond this room. Slowly, you walked down the wooden steps, peeking down and seeing that it was what seemed to be a living room/kitchen. An old stove was against the wall, the brick opened at the bottom that held a small fire that was slowly dying. So that’s how they cooked foods back in the day…in this day…? Whatever. A small wooden table rested on the opposite side with two chairs, a small bookshelf rested next to it. It seemed kinda cozy if you were being honest. Another set of stairs led down into another unknown area. Your stomach grumbled, echoing in the silent room. With all your panicking and shock you hadn’t realized how hungry you were. 

It seemed that whoever you had become…were you still you? In a sense…yes and no. You don’t want to think too hard about it. Whatever. It seemed no matter what you were a bit lazy in any time period, as a kettle was on the stove with some boiling stew. Picking up a piece of wood from the pile that sat in the corner, you added it under the stove, causing the fire to rise once more. Ladle in hand, you stirred to see all that was in the soup. Bones, meat, carrots, peas, and corn. Grabbing a bread bowl, you scooped yourself up a portion and took a seat at the small wooden table. 

As you ate your meal, you reassessed your situation. You were hit, most likely by a suv, bus, truck, or other large vehicle. Then you woke up in some medieval seeming house with medieval clothing. Wasn’t this the plot to some trashy isekai novel? Weren’t you supposed to be the villainess or heroine or something? Why were you some seemingly random peasant? A harsh sigh escaped from your nose. Sure, you didn’t mind reading one of those stories, but to live one? Was this some cruel joke? You needed to know where and when you were, and also who the hell you were. What was your name? Was it the same? With a shake of your head you grabbed one of the books on the shelf that sat next to you. Perhaps a story will help you find some crucial information. 

Taking a bite from the bread bowl, you opened the book, only for another wave of horror to wash over you. The text was completely different. You couldn’t read the alphabet-

You clutched your head as a sudden intense, blinding white hot pain overcame you. Your eyes were squeezed shut as a ton of information washed over you. No, not information. Memories. This body’s memories. Memories of when you were a child and your parents walked you through the market, memories of being a teenager and already working in the bakery that sat below you. Memories of your parents dying when you were only eighteen, memories of navigating life in the city on your own, making friends, greeting customers, baking goods. You let out a loud gasp as the pain finally dulled into a throbbing annoyance, white dots littering your sight when you finally opened your eyes once more. 

It felt like you were two people in one body, two different sets of memories held in your brain. You need to hurry and start baking so you can open shop. Do you even know how to bake? Of course you do, you’ve done it all your life. You quickly finished the bread that made up your makeshift bowl, rushing down the stairs and looking in awe at the brickstone oven that took up the center of your quaint shop. You started working like it was muscle memory. Taking out the ingredients you needed to make dough, cookie batter, pie crust, and pastries. Then you would put the dough in the oven after the fire died down and you brushed the ashes out. Once the dough rose, the pies cooked, and the cookies settled, you took it all out, bringing them to a table that sat right outside your home, where you would stand all day till your stock sold out or the day was over. 

Perhaps you weren’t in such a bad situation after all. 

…

It didn’t take long for you to get used to your new/old life. You learned to accept that you had died, that things would never be the same. One part of you itched for a phone or longed for your tv, but another felt refreshed. You learned to live in the moment, and you felt like you were in a community. You’d greet your usual customers with a beaming smile, joke with the man you’d usually get your meat from, listen to the gossip that everyone and anyone would spread about. 

Everything finally felt like it was falling into place.

Until you met him.

It seemed like any other day. Waking before the crack of dawn to start your chores, setting up shop and waiting for your first customer. New and old faces popped up alike, until one face was all too familiar. You had accepted this was just some random world separate from your own, your body’s memories not bringing up any history lesson you recalled. But he changed everything. Blonde hair that swept to the left, blue eyes that matched the scarf that wrapped around his shoulders, green tunic and hat that made you want to melt and run away at the same time. 

YOU WERE IN A LEGEND OF ZELDA GAME?!

How the hell had you not realized for so long? You were flabbergasted, your merged memories causing you another headache. Oh gosh, this wasn’t even just any Legend of Zelda game. You recognized that scarf and pretty face anywhere. This was Hyrule Warriors. That explains the war, your body recalled. This was just about the worst Legend of Zelda game to be isekai’d into. You willed the Goddesses to take pity on you, but they seemed to be in a joking mood as Link walked straight to your stall. Great.

“I was wondering what smelled so good,” The hero smiled, eyes drifting across the various breads and desserts you were offering. “Heard that your stuff is the best in town.”

“It’s not,” You stated blankly. You were still fighting the urge to run, your fear coming out as indifference. With arms crossed, you squeezed your elbow tightly to get some of your anxious energy out. 

Link blinked at your tone, his stance faltering slightly before he straightened up, “Don’t sell yourself short, I’m sure someone as sweet as you wouldn’t have any trouble cooking up something just as sweet.”

‘Wow that was bad,’ you thought. Okay, maybe you were exaggerating, it could’ve been worse…much worse, but you didn’t want him flirting with you in the first place. 

“Did you want to buy something?” You asked, tilting your head and getting straight to the point.

“Uh, yeah,” Link fumbled, cheeks tinting a light pink. “Just a pumpkin tart, please.”

“That’ll be five rupees,” You told him, picking up the pumpkin tart. You took his blue rupee with ease, handing him the pastry. “Thank you, come again.”

Link was confused to say the least. Typically people would scramble to gain his business, swoon at his kind words, or even try to flirt themselves. You…you looked disinterested…scared even. Have you done something wrong? Why did you seem to avoid his gaze, shoot down his niceties without a second thought? You were strange, but he could take a hint, leaving your stall with a small nod of his head. 

You let out a sigh of relief at that, eying the two girls that were giggling to each other before rushing towards you.

“He talked to you!” Ame squealed, bouncing on the balls of her feet. Her curly brown hair bouncing with her every movement. 

“He bought your food!” Fisia exclaimed with a dreamy sigh, blue tunic swaying with her as she shifted side to side. “He’ll see how good of a baker you are and be quick to marry you!”

Your face contorted into a look of disgust, shaking your head vehemently, “Why would I accept? I don’t even know him.” A half lie. You were more worried about the drama that would ensue if Link knew of your origins. 

“Because he’s the captain and a hero!” Fisia cried out like you had cursed all her kin. 

“Not to mention he’s a total dream of a man,” Ame added. “You would be a fool to deny him.” You merely rolled your eyes at their claims. They had a point but you wouldn’t admit that. 

“You act like one meeting has set our future in stone,” You grumbled with a shake of your head. “Are you going to buy something or continue blocking my potential customers?” 

“You’re no fun,” Ame huffed.

“A man who has the potential of changing your entire life comes by and you throw it away,” Fisia glared. “If I were you I would’ve jumped at the opportunity.” 

“You’re still young,” You waved off their complaints. 

“I’m fourteen!” Sniped Fisia. “I’ve already crossed into my womanhood.” You cringed at the thought. Sometimes your blurred memories were a curse as you were forced to watch children married off to adults for social status improvements. 

“Whatever you say,” You let out a resigned sigh.

…

Once again you found your days pass you by. It had been nearly a month since your run in with the fabled hero. You nearly forgot about it, more focused on the smaller aspects of your life. Cleaning clothes, buying groceries, cleaning your house. Life seemed to be a lot simpler here, something you tried not to take for granted. You owned your three story home, something you inherited from your parents. You had a profitable business, you quickly learned bread was life here. No plates, no bowls, bread was used for all that. One thing you will always yearn for is modern plumbing. It felt humiliating going in the nearby river or digging a hole, but everyone did it! Not even an outhouse! You felt like crying at the thought of being able to flush a toilet or wash your hands. 

Point is, as used to this world as you were getting, it still seemed like something would flash back about your old life and remind you of advanced technologies you were missing out on. You shook your head, you needed to focus on the task at hand, picking up groceries for your bakery. Paying for the wheat, honey, and fruits, you hefted the heavy bag onto your shoulder, carrying the other goods in a basket. You made your way back through the crowds, weaving around running children and chattery adults. You nodded towards people you recognized, glaring at those who bumped into you. The sun shone down on you, causing sweat to bead at your hairline. All in a day's work.

“Hey, do you need some help?”

At first you thought you overheard someone’s conversation, it was midday and the market was lively, but then that stupidly handsome face popped into your peripheral and those damned crystal blue eyes were aimed right at you.  “I got it,” You replied easily, shifting the bag to sit a bit more comfortably. You almost thought you caught him pouting…

It doesn’t matter, you could see the door to your bakery just a few feet from you, he would just be hindering you more at this point. Besides, wasn’t he not only a knight, but a captain? Shouldn’t he be busy doing…whatever the hell a captain does? Why did you keep managing to catch him when he was free?

Then you ran into your next predicament. Opening your door. Sure, you could set your bundle of wheat down, open the door, then pick it back up, but that would strain your back terribly. You didn’t have long to come up with a plan as the hero picked up on your predicament.

“I knew I could help somehow,” He grinned smugly with a wink. Frustrated. That’s what you felt when your heart flipped at the gesture. Bad heart. Bad feelings. You were supposed to be avoiding this man not falling for him. You pursed your lips, squeezing the handle of your basket as you pass by Link.

“Thank you,” You acknowledged his gesture with a nod, missing his shocked expression. 

“Any time,” He replied, smile softening just the slightest. 

Your plight had only grown worse from there. 

“He’s coming by more often,” Ame giggled, poking at your shoulder.

“Momma says that the hero’s taken a fancy to ya,” Fisia joined, pushing back a dark strand of hair that fell from her braid, sly grin painting her lips. 

“Shouldn’t you girls be working?” You huffed, cheeks heating up at their implications. “Or are you trying to get a free sweet from me?” 

“Is it working?” Ame asked, Fisia cackling and pushing against her shoulder. 

“You two are going to be the death of me,” You shook your head with a sigh, something you found yourself doing more often than not these days. 

“You know, my papa said food is a way to a man's heart,” Ame pondered after calming down from her laughter. 

“Is that why you’ve been learnin’ more recipes?” You asked, trying to deflect from yourself ever so slightly.

“Mhm,” Ame nodded. “Gotta impress a noble to marry me and I’ll never have to work another day in my life!”

A small chuckle left you at that, “Good luck, it's a noble goal indeed.”

“That’s all the more reason why you should marry Sir Link!” Fisia groans. 

They had been feeding too many ideas into your head. You watched with careful eyes as Link interacted with you, the way he leaned towards you, large smile and soft eyes. It was dangerous to roll the idea of dating Link, the legendary hero, around in your mind. It had become more and more tempting as of late. He had managed to make you laugh more than you’d like to admit and you had to give it to him, he was charming when he wanted to be. But you liked him even more when he was being a total dork, it felt a little more real, like he was finally opening up to you. 

“Seems like I got lucky,” The familiar voice of the one who cursed your thoughts spoke up. 

“One loaf of bread left,” You agreed. “Unless you were craving something sweet.”

“Hmmm,” He hummed while tapping his fingers on the table which currently held your last good before you could close up. An…almost sheepish smile tugged at his lips as his eyes looked everywhere but at you. “Perhaps I could get both?” You raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to clarify exactly what he meant. 

The sun continued to fall, its golden rays lighting up his blonde hair in almost an angelic way. It was getting harder to deny your ever growing attraction towards the knight. The streets weren’t that crowded as people started to call it a day, some heading home, others towards the pubs. You yourself we're looking forward to grabbing a book and reading till it was time to call it a night. 

“I’ll buy your last loaf…” Link started strongly, his confidence wavering a bit as he continued. “And take you out for a drink?”

…

Loud. That was the best way to describe your surroundings. A band was playing lively music as people cheered, sang music, and talked over the noise. The scent of alcohol permeated the space as nearly everyone had a pint of mead. A dish of King’s Chicken sat in front of you, the smells of meaty dishes making your stomach growl. You listened intently as Link told you a funny story from his training days, taking small bites to savor the more expensive end of food he had offered to pay for. As out of depth as you felt, you couldn’t help but feel a bit warm. No, not from the people dancing or the heat from the clay oven. It was a warmth that only the man in front of you could make you feel. Lips split in a smile, a laugh escaping every now and then as he gestured erratically to get his point across. 

You took small sips of your mead, watching Link down his third glass. He seemed a bit nervous, it seemed like he was drinking to take the edge off. You weren’t sure why he kept seeming more and more nervous around you. Sure, you had been a bit standoffish the first few times you met, but you had gradually warmed up to him. How could you not? 

You easily found yourself telling your own story, you had a lot, from bad customers to your own idiocy. You tried to ignore the shy smile that tugged on your lips at the way he leaned towards you, like he was waiting on your every word with bated breath. Your heart fluttered at the sound of his laughter when you said something funny, or how he would scowl when you recalled an irritated customer. You found yourself leaning closer to him as well, excusing it by thinking it was just so you could hear him better. 

This was dangerous. You could tell the alcohol was starting to get to him, dilated eyes never straying from you, cheeks turning a rosy pink, words becoming just the tiniest bit more slurred. It was getting late, you may not be opening up shop tomorrow but you still had household chores to do. You felt a bit fuzzy yourself, barely, but after one pint you had called it enough. 

“I think I should call it a night,” You yawned, covering your mouth with the back of your hand. 

“I’ll walk you home,” Link offered, stumbling to stand up.

“I think I should be walking you home,” You chuckled, standing up as well. The blonde vehemently shook his head, offering you his elbow. You took it and began to walk out of the pub.

“I wouldn’t be a proper knight if I let that happen,” Link explained. 

“Alright,” You agreed easily with a cheeky smile. 

Stars littered the night sky, many oil lamps snuffed out for the night. The cobblestone streets were dark as you two made your way towards your house. Quiet laughter and teasing remarks filled the air, the odd passer by glaring or piss drunk. As you got closer and closer to your door, you found yourself wishing to hang out with the knight again. 

“Thank you, oh valiant hero, for walking me home,” You grinned.

“Anything for you,” He replied without missing a beat, his words a bit too sincere for your poor heart. You stared at each other, seconds feeling like hours, minutes feeling like days. It was like someone put a spell on you, your eyes tracing his features. His eyebrows were relaxed, a small beauty mark rested under his right eye, his pink lips looked oh so enticing. It seemed the same thought was running through his mind as his hand lifted to hold your cheek, calloused palms brushing against smooth skin.  

“I think I’m in love with you,” Link whispered, the sounds of crickets and frogs the only background noise. You felt your mind short circuit as his face inched closer, the scent of mead invading your nostrils. “Can I?”

You knew you should say no. You both were intoxicated to an extent, you should wait till you were sober…but he was so close to you. His body heat made your mind turn even fuzzier than before, all rational thought slowly leaving as his lips brushed against your own. You gave in, pressing your lips together in a desperate, needy kiss. Link reciprocated with fervor, pushing you against the door of your house gently in contrast to how his teeth bite at your lower lip. 

You suck in a deep breath when you pull away, heart beating erratically as his lips start to trail from your jaw to your neck. You blink rapidly, trying to come back to reality.

“W-wait,” Your breath hitches as he kisses a spot that makes your knees weak. He stops instantly, pulling away just enough to meet your eyes. Dear goddesses are you down bad for him. If you thought his eyes were dilated earlier they’re practically a black hole now. “You’re drunk.” You state, gently pushing against his chest to create some space, to try and regain your sanity. 

“It doesn’t make my feelings any less real,” Link murmured, nose brushing against your own sweetly.

“Then tell me tomorrow when our heads are clearer,” You mumble back, caressing his cheek before opening the door and entering your house. “Get home safely.”

…

It had been days. Your stomach felt like it was twisting in knots. Have you done something wrong? Was he sent away on a mission? Was it the kiss? Was it only a drunk induced mistake? You wanted to puke at the thought. You tried to keep busy. Make your goods, buy groceries, wash your clothes, clean your house. Do anything but let the thought of your feelings not being reciprocated rot and fester. 

“We made you somethin’!” Fisia grins as she and Ame run up to your stall. Your desolate expression melts, warming ever so slightly at the girls who you would call friends. 

“And what might that be?” You ask with a small grin.

“A friendship bracelet!” Ame exclaims, holding out a bracelet made of linen string. You felt your heart melt at the gesture, taking the gift and holding it reverently.

“Thank you,” You thanked them genuinely. “This means a lot.”

“We all have matching ones now,” Fisia explains, the two of them showing off their matching bracelets. Ame helped you put it on, the two of them happily comparing their hard work. This was the closest you got to a true moment of respite. 

Of course the goddesses couldn’t let you have the moment for too long. Ame let out a gasp, tugging at Fisia’s tunic and pointing towards your right. Turning your gaze to what could’ve possibly caught their attention you felt your stomach drop. There stood Link who was slowly walking towards you. He kept his head down, hands fiddling with his iconic scarf. 

“You think you can just come back after breaking their heart!” Fisia snarled as she pointed towards the hero. Eyes fell onto the four of you, causing you to shrink at the negative attention. Your cheeks felt like they were on fire, was it that obvious you had fallen for him hook line and sinker? Link’s mouth gaped open before shutting tight, he worried his jaw. He looked absolutely racked with guilt.

“I came to apologize,” Link explained, but it felt like your world stopped. You couldn’t hear what he said next, your heart pounding in your ears. This was it. He was going to tell you it was all a mistake and that he didn’t mean any of it. Your breaths felt short, you wanted to run, you didn’t want to face the problem.

It wasn’t till he was standing in front of you, gently shaking your shoulders and calling your name that you snapped out of your panic. You watched him with wide eyes as he looked at you with concern mixed with regret.

“I’m sorry it took so long,” Link sighed, forehead resting against your own. “I…I was going to come the next day, but then there was an emergency that I had to attend to and I didn’t have any time to write you a letter…” He let out a frustrated sigh. “I love you. I love you so much it scares me. I, I’d be honored if you’d allow me to court you.”

“I was waiting for you to ask you idiot,” You huffed, biting back any more scathing remarks in favor of pulling the hero into another, this time sober, kiss. So absorbed in your own little world, full of relief of happiness that your feelings truly were reciprocated that you didn’t hear the squeals of Ame and Fisia, or the whispers of the other towns folk who watched on. Link didn’t seem to mind either, pulling you flush against him as he savored the taste of your lips on his own. 

Perhaps you should thank whoever hit you, as you wouldn’t be in this situation without them.

[angelbarelywritesslashers]

♡ leather and lace | thomas hewitt x reader

♡ fandoms; Texas Chainsaw Massacre (2003 + 2006)

♡ characters; Thomas Brown Hewitt

♡ reader; second person pov + gender neutral language- you wear a dress but this is absolutely still for my masc and fellow nb slasher fans too

♡cw; stockholm syndrome ass relationship, very suggestive content, horny reader?? lol

♡ notes; we are so back. maybe sort of, i feel like this might actually suck.

the title is silly and very straightforward but i like stevie nicks and thought it was cute <3

also the vibe of the dress, thin ass sundresses are such a good plot device 😩

also also i wasn’t sure where to end this so it’s kind of a cliffhanger for a potential smutty sequel?? lmk if you even want more tommy ig

okay mwah love you goodbye

•┈••✦ ❤ ✦••┈•

“It’s kind of big on me,” You told Luda Mae softly, swishing the skirt slightly. The dress hung past your knees and the straps wanted to slip off your shoulders “Ionno if it looks good.”

You felt vulnerable. Naked, in such a thin, loose white gown. You didn’t like that Monty and Hoyt would see you in it. Or…the other one. Thomas. The one that made your cheeks feel hot and your stomach twist in knots. He looked at you like you were food when you’d first encountered him…but now you’d been there a few days, he avoided you, like you made him nervous in one way or another.

“Oh, nonsense, you look lovely. I’m sure Tommy will love it. Besides, I can take it in at the waist if you really need, maybe find you a nice ribbon to go ‘round it.” She pinched the fabric to make it hug your form tighter and you went red.

“I think it’s good like this. But. Um, it’s kind of cool in here. Maybe I can wear a shawl...”

“Don’t you worry about that- you’re going to go outside and get some sun. Tommy has chores to do but I’ve got work. Can’t have you by yourself all day.” She affectionately pinched your cheek.

You gave a soft noise but knew complaint was futile. At least it wasn’t the Sheriff- even Luda wanted you kept far from his leering gaze. You followed her, barefoot in the soft grass until you got to a small clearing. There was a shed, and a barn, and lumber waiting to be chopped.

You thought you’d get out of it as she sat you down, maybe Tommy was busy. Maybe he was looking for coeds to kill somewhere else, and Luda would let you stay in your quiet little room where you could pretend you weren’t a hostage. Heavy footsteps told you were wrong after a long moment.

You twisted a blade of grass in your hands as Luda whispered sternly to him. Something about “stay” and “take” and “sooner rather than later”. You tried not to think about it. The man huffed exasperatedly and his mother swatted him softly before she marched off - his back still to you as she disappeared over the hill. You were grateful he ignored you and yet unnerved by the fact.

Thomas kept his head down, face obstructed by his hair even more than usual as he grabbed a few large branches from the lumber pile and brought them to a sturdy oak stump. Still eyeing him warily you leaned back, naturally on guard but also curious. He was so strong it seemed impossible. He was bulky-obviously- but in the real way lumberjacks and construction workers were with thick arms and a soft stomach. His hair was nice. Dark and thick, and not greasy like you’d expect. You’d been close enough when he’d slung you over his shoulder to tell it was soft. And his hands were huge and calloused - you knew that from way he’d held onto you then, massive palm on your thigh to keep you steady. You had been wearing shorts and…

You gave a soft sigh, not realizing you were still staring at him until his head whipped around at the sound. You felt your ears burn and coughed, looking away. He was down to just an undershirt as he’d started chopping the lumber - ironically using an axe instead of that chainsaw he’d been swinging around a few nights back. “Sorry- I- don’t stop on account of….”

Your voice died in your throat as he walked towards you, stopping barely a foot away. He looked concerned- more so as he knelt and you flinched. God you still couldn’t tell if you wanted him on top of you or a thousand miles away. He brushed your hair back and— you giggled quietly. He was checking your forehead, thinking you were sick.

Thomas scowled a bit at you, sitting back as you looked up at him “I shouldn’t laugh. But that was sweet. I’m not sick- don’t think so, at least.”

He tilted his head at you. He really didn’t talk. That’d make things difficult…at least at first.

“It’s just kind of hot out…plus- um- oh—“ You blinked as his hand brushed the hem of the dress, where you’d just been rubbing your fingers against the lace “…it’s not my usual style. But it’s a pretty dress.”

He grunted and nodded, looking over your body quite shamelessly. In the sunlight you were sure he was able to see much more than considered appropriate. Fuck it, you thought. He was hot, his mama wanted him to like you, and most importantly he could protect you from the Sheriff and whatever weird bullshit was yet to come.

You hummed and shifted to sit back a bit more, taking his hand before he could pull away fully “…you have big hands…I can tell you work with them…but you made your mask right?”

He hesitated, staring at what almost seemed like disbelief at you before slowly nodding. You hummed and touched his cheek, rubbing a thumb on the leather. It was surprisingly soft, and so was his gaze. Whatever he was covering didn’t matter or even really interest you- you just cared you that you could see his chapped lips beneath it.

“…Tommy?” You cooed. He startled but met your eye. “Can I kiss you?”

He gave a swift and silent answer, pressing his lips to yours with a fervor that stole your breath. He was clumsy and rough, but so desperate that you couldn’t help but draw him closer, to give him what he needed. If you were touch starved he was a thousand times so, holding on to you so tight you were afraid your hips might bruise. Afraid was a strong word- you’d proudly wear any mark from that man.

As soon as you’d thought you had some control there he had you, dazed and unkempt straddling his lap. He ran a thumb over your lower lip, admiring your addled state with a contented grunt.

“…we…we should go inside. Your mom might be home soon.”

He shook his head and suddenly pulled you down- not to pin you, but to be held, his face buried your neck and his mask rubbing against your skin. As he toyed with the hem of the dress again you hummed a tune and played with his hair.

“Tommy?”

He looked up.

“…do you think they want us to go steady?”

He hesitated then tapped his left ring finger. You went red as you suddenly realized what he meant- they wanted you to get married.

“Ah…well— how about steady first?”

He nodded quickly and nuzzled your neck again.

“Good. Cuz I think steady would still cover slippin’ into the shed to have more fun before your mama gets home.”

[abby-howard]

I love everyone's outfits in Scarlett Hollow (especially Kaneeka's) so I wanted to ask how do you go about designing multiple outfits for each character that are different yet still fit that characters general aesthetic. Also do you have a favorite/least favorite outfit.

Aw thank you!!

Designing outfits is definitely not something that came very naturally to me at the start of Scarlet Hollow, but I've been gettin' the hang of it as I go-- I'd say a lot of it is about the vibe. I sketch a new outfit, and if it feels like they're in a costume, I scrap it. Color in particular gets tricky... one color can throw off a whole look and make them feel like their aura is off. Picking a palette in advance is a good idea!

I think it's mostly about understanding your character and the kinds of choices they make; Kaneeka cares a lot about how others view her, so she presents as very put-together, thus her outfits are always a little complicated and carefully constructed. Whereas Stella is laid back and probably hates having to think about what she's wearing, so she goes with roughly the same combination of jeans and a t shirt every day.

More of my rules for each main character under the cut! Minor spoilers for Scarlet Hollow:

I answered a similar question during an AMA, so I'm paraphrasing from those answers~

Stella: her shirt must match the theme of the episode while also being a believable cryptid/folklore t shirt design. She has a red/neutral theme, plus jeans. Butch sense of fashion with casual sensibilities.

Kaneeka: is a nu-goth, so no corsets or elaborate frills, and no techno-goth or scene/emo accoutrements. Her emo days are far behind her... so now she wears all black, no color besides her red braids, with interesting clothing shapes and the occasional lace or metallic accent. This is pretty close to how I dress so I just think about if it's something I would wear.

Oscar: he's a professional! So suits and button-ups, except his undershirt episode. He has a tan/yellow theme with unsaturated red accents, which he shares with his daughter Rosalina. His outfits are the toughest to mix up, because he dresses nice for work and only owns one suit. But I try to get creative where I can!

Avery: a plant theme, which includes mostly greens, with some purples, oranges, and earthy yellow allowed. Definitely has the widest palette, since they have to have interesting patterned button-ups. Can have a coat if needed, always tan, and nice dress pants that have a little bit of a bellbottom.

Reese: Wears whatever. A vague blue theme. Nothing looks like it fits him right. I have given him a cool jacket for Episode 5, but I can't post that sprite... too spoiler.......

[chososdiscordkitten]

Can I Suck Them?

Synopsis: Asking jjk men if u can suck on their boobies, ranked from most sensitive nipples to least w/ GN!Reader

Includes: 𝐍𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐢, 𝐍𝐚𝐨𝐲𝐚, 𝐆𝐨𝐣𝐨, 𝐓𝐨𝐣𝐢, 𝐂𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐨, 𝐆𝐞𝐭𝐨, 𝐇𝐢𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐢

(a.n)the only one that has like 'real' smut it gojos, the first time I write for Naoya...... scary.

MDNI

Kento Nanami

Nanami had caught you staring at his chest a handful of times, often thinking why you were looking- or why you had that depraved look in your eye. But when you finally had the gall to ask- “Can I suck your tits?” in a playful tone- eyeing the little bumps beneath his white sleep shirt that accentuated his large pecs. 

“I don't have tits, sweetheart.” he smiled with a sigh as he looked down to his coffee cup. You hummed, looking at the curve of his chest, 

With a smile you crooned, “Is that a no?” watching his expression fall- in all honesty Nanami thought you were kidding, the question not too strange from the usual things you'd say to him. Knowing you'd say little unfiltered comments with no meaning behind them. 

He furrowed his eyebrows, cocking his head to the side waiting for you to laugh and say you were kidding. 

Only you didn't. 

Finding you standing before him, thumbing the protruding bud hidden by the white fabric as you stared at his waning expression. 

Nanami tried keeping a stoic face- he tried pretending that it didn't feel like anything. But the more he tried to keep the little sighs in the sound of whimpers to himself- the more they wanted to come out. 

All that from just a few swipes of your thumb on his nipple. Nanami knew he was sensitive- often having to wear an undershirt beneath his button downs to avoid the light grazes from the coarse fabric. But he didn't know they were sensitive in this way. 

In the way that had his cock jumping in his pajama bottoms, had his heart pounding beneath his plentiful pecs, and most embarrassing of all- had his eyebrows pinching up in a light crease, with soft puffs coming from his lungs in the shape of small whimpers. 

And though you looked at him with an astonished expression- he still felt a sprinkle of vulnerability as you pressed your thumb onto the pebble beneath the fabric. 

Here you were- thinking if he’s squirming now, even with the millimeter of his shirt separating your thumb from his nipple- what face would he make once you sucked them?

Nanami placed his mug onto the kitchen counter, fearing if you continued he might drop it. 

You pulled your thumb from the white cotton, mouth watering, scoffing lightly at how you could almost see the halo of pink beneath the white fabric. 

Your hands fell to the hem of his shirt- looking into his eyes and asking, “Can I?” with an expression that could only be described as wondrous. 

Nanami hesitated, he furrowed his eyebrows and thought about it for a solid few seconds- unsure if he wanted to tread through these waters so early in the morning. 

Bordering on perverted how fast your hands maneuvered his shirt off the second he nodded ‘yes’. 

You stared at his plump chest for a second- admiring the light peach fuzz on them, Nanami was used to your deranged antics, sure. Times when you'd bring up something new to try in bed. Or when you'd spout insinuating compliments to him when he got home from work. Almost all those times, you were on the receiving end. 

But this- this was easing into a new dynamic that was unexplored between you two. You flashed your eyes to him, parting your lips and leaning in closer to his chest. 

The sound that left his throat when you licked a stripe onto the little stiff mound- was intoxicating. 

Your hand went to his other, rolling it in your fingers as you pressed your lips onto his chest. Nanami’s shoulders shivered from the warmth of your mouth, small huffs falling from his lips without censorship. 

The feeling of succession you felt when you finally swirled your tongue around it, how it felt to feel his cock harden against your tummy- it was like finally cracking a level of a game you've spent countless hours trying to beat.

The satisfaction of hearing the little gasps from his throat when you grazed your teeth against the little bud was something you didn't know you needed to hear till now. Even more when you'd let it go with a quiet ‘pop’, blowing light air onto the damp peak on his chest. 

The shivering breaths he exhaled were exhilarating to hear.

It wasn't long till you granted him the favor of pulling his weeping cock from his bottoms, stroking him slowly as he braced his hands onto the kitchen counter, knuckles turning white from how hard he was gripping onto it. 

It wasn't an act that needed any dirty talk, nor any teasing from you. All you wanted was to please him. And maybe, soothe the itch you've felt in your brain since you noticed how suckable his chest really was. 

You were sure that this little discovery would make its way into some intimate moments with Nanami, judging how fucked out he looked from a few soft strokes and having his nipples sucked on. You were positive he could cum from that alone, but that was a trial for another day. 

Naoya Zenin

I honestly don't think he'd be open to it- but if he was he'd need a lot, a lot of convincing. But, I think if you were to be kissing him- sloppy and his tongue practically shoved down your throat. His back flush against the wall as your hands gripped onto his bare torso. He’d pull away, huffing with a light blush on his cheeks-

Naoya would place his hand atop your head, aiming your head down his bare torso. He would always do this, guide you to suck his cock before any kind of intercourse. 

Only you weren't some anti-romantic monster like he was. In an attempt to make this more caring- more sensual. You placed light kisses onto his collar bones, undoing the buckle of his pants as he huffed in annoyance. 

Naoya gruffed, “Hurry up.” he spit through clenched teeth, not knowing why you’d always have to take your time when it came to these things. Even when you explained ‘it feels better when it's slow’ he didn't believe you. 

But as you licked a small stripe past his nipple- just trying to convince him that a little build up was fun. Naoya unwillingly let out a sound neither of you had heard before. 

A mix of a hic and whimper- You froze with your lips parted, almost as though time stopped. Naoya’s shoulders tensed up, waiting for you to make a snide comment or make fun of him. 

Only you didn't, instead you darted your tongue past your lips, pressing it back gently onto his nipple as he huffed a quiet, ‘Sto-’ with a quivered lip, melting into the feeling of your tongue on his sensitive bud. Swirling the tip of your tongue around the erogenous zone as he sighed with a gulp.

That was till the realization of what was actually happening set in. He grasped your shoulders- pushing you back lightly. The look on his face was littered with confusion, a deep blush, a hint of thrill and most of all: he looked mortified. 

You looked at him with wide eyes, inhaling as you parted your lips- only for Naoya to interrupt. “Don’t.” he gritted through his teeth, “Don't say anything.” he avoided your gaze as he tried catching his breath. 

“It’s okay Naoya-” you exhaled in a whisper, leaning in to kiss his cheek only for him to pull away with an exhale. “Shut up.” he gruffed, pushing away your hand that tried to caress his cheek.

Seeing as he refused to look at you or accept your assurances, instead you leaned down to the center of his chest. Right below his collar bones and pressed a kiss to his flushed skin. Being able to feel his heart pounding against your lips as he sighed. A mix of distress and satisfaction at feeling your lips press against his skin.

With your lips brushing against the little curve of his chest, “I just wanna make you feel good.” you murmured against his skin, only hearing a small exhale from Naoya’s bowed head, trying to hide the embarrassing expression he was making. 

“It's repulsive-” he whispered with a hidden grimace as you pressed soft pecks around his sensitive nipple, the blush on his cheeks tingling the tip of his nose. 

You tried hiding the smile that tickled his skin, “No, Naoya,” your words vibrated against his chest as you pulled from it, “It's hot.” you smiled before darting your tongue back out of your mouth. Assuring him that this wasn't some anomaly or out of the ordinary. You were ready to show him just how alluring his sensitivity was with your tongue. 

Again, he would let you do it. But only after a lot, a lot of convincing. But once you start, he's a puddle in your hands. 

Satoru Gojo

I see him applying lotion after a shower, carelessly swiping his hands to massage the lotion onto his chest. If he was being honest, Satoru had noticed your little staring problem whenever his chest would be glazed with something, clenching your jaw as you eyed the curve of his chest. 

A shit eating grin splayed onto his lips as he felt you gawk at his bare chest. “Hungry?” he spoke up with a cocky giggle. You sighed heavily, almost agreeing with what he asked. 

“It's so unfair.” you muttered, keeping a light tone as you watched his eyebrows furrow.

“Unfair?”

You took a few steps closer to him, a feigned mournful look on your face as you reached out to his still damp chest, holding his tits gently in your hands as though they were a prized possession, earning for Gojo to let out a breathy giggle, “Yes, deeply unfair.” you scoffed, running your thumb over his pale nipple. Earning a small huff from him in response.

Gojo felt an itch crawl up his back as you lightly grazed his nipple with your thumb, your other hand indenting into the swell seeing how pliant his skin was.

Early in your relationship you were aware his nipples were on the more sensitive side, seeing how blushed they'd get after he straightened his back, the friction from being chest to chest in missionary the cause. But you had yet to suck on them, even if most times your mouth would water seeing the light sheen of sweat on his chest after intercourse. 

You sucked your teeth, “They're sooo pretty ‘toru.” you exasperated, causing him to scoff at your words that sounded more sarcastic than you meant them to. 

Trying to play along- “You wanna suck ‘em?” he smiled, expecting you to laugh it off and continue your little charade. Only your eyes glimmered with a smile on your lips, and you didn't laugh it off. 

“Would you let me?” venturous and mouth watering at the thought. 

True, Satoru would let you if you really wanted to. Knowing you sucking his nipples wouldn't be the oddest thing done in your sex life- but it was an unmapped area that neither of you had brought up till this point. Though there were small grazes in passing- kissing down his torso before you went down on him, sure. But never did you latch onto it. 

And as Satoru looked at your expression, filled with yearning and want- it made one thing clear to him, that he was gonna be on the receiving end of nipple stimulation this time. 

You wanted to find a better place to do this than in the humid bathroom- so with a few sloppy kisses as your fingers lightly tugged and pulled on his pinkening nipples. You were surprised with the little whimpers he breathed into your mouth, knowing he was sensitive generally but he was extra sensitive as you tempted the rosy peaks of his chest to harden. 

Finding yourself kissing down his neck, your hands rolling his pink buds in your fingers as Gojo laid his head into the pillows. Softly whimpering as his cock started to harden against his pj’s. 

You pulled your lips from his collar bone, amazed with the roaming blush that only accentuated his pretty tits. You sighed as you watched him wriggle from your hands pinching his nipples, “Does it feel that good?” you asked, awestricken from how loud he was starting to whimper. 

Gojo huffed with a small smirk, “You have no idea how good it feels.” he whimpered with a light whine. You placed your lips onto the glistening swell of one his pecs, removing your stimulating fingers and tracing it down his carved torso. 

Your hand found its way to the elastic of his bottoms, softly palming his bulge as you placed wet kisses to the blushed swell of his pec. His large hand was on the back of your head- almost cradling it as he felt a ghost-like stripe of your spit dampen his nipple. Pulling back ever so slightly and blowing gently onto where you previously lapped. Causing a shivering whimper to rumble from his chest.

Breathlessly, Satoru huffed, “You keep doing that and I might cu-” he tried warning, only to be interrupted by your hand dipping into his pants, softly grasping his shaft as you attached your lips back to his nipple. A whiny ‘nngh’ from his throat as your reward. 

Swirling your tongue against the sensitivity- his hand on your head bordering on fisting your hair from how worked up he was getting. 

You were amazed at how pretty he sounded- how his cock was crying into your hand. Gojo sounded so fucking desperate- so needy. Like he was close to orgasm, but he couldn't focus enough on cumming. Your hand was too slow, stark comparison to your tongue that was flicking and slathering over his tender nipple. 

Satoru inhaled- filling his lungs with as much air he could as he reached his hand up to his opposite nipple, gently rolling it like you did before- you flashed your eyes to his hand, watching him play with his nipple causing a low groan to vibrate onto his nipple from your tongue.

This caused Satoru to grunt from the sudden tingle- “Faster baby- m’so close-” he managed, the words littered with whimpers as his hips bucked into your hand. 

You quickened your hand- fisting his cock as quick as you could. Hearing chopped throaty moans fall from his lips at the action- various breathless’- ‘Dont stop’ and warnings, ‘m’cummi-’ between every whimper and moan. 

Even if he meant it as a joke- you were happy to suck his tits till he was shuddering with ragged breaths. And Gojo was more than happy to let you.

Toji Zenin

Oh god, this man. I think you'd make a comment on it once. Just once, and now anytime he'd catch you staring he'd remind you he can feel your gaze.

“You're staring.” he'd say, knowing he wore a compression shirt that was not only- a smidge too tight (a lot tight), but it was also white- put those together and you can practically see the pink ring of his nipples through the fabric. 

It was almost like he was doing it on purpose. Like he was trying to tempt you to ask him. “Hard not to when you wear those tiny shirts.” You scoffed, earning Toji to look down and pretending to think if it was too small. Being able to see the stretch of the fabric across his chest. 

“They shrink in the wash.” he retorted, almost offended by your complaint. You gave a sarcastic ‘uh huh’ before returning your gaze back onto his chest. “I mean I can see your nipples from here-” you complained, hearing a sigh fall from his lips.

It was early, having breakfast after getting dressed. Which brought on this whole ‘tiny shirt’ debacle.

“You don't like it, don't look.”

“That's exactly why I'm looking.” you huffed mindlessly. Earning for him to scrunch his eyebrows together and pout his lip in a light grimace. You inhaled, chin in your hand as he played with the food on his plate, “I mean- you don't feel the air brush-” 

Toji called your name, almost too stern and in a borderline irritable tone. “-If you wanna ask me somethin’- ask.” he huffed, looking at you with a stoic expression. 

“Can. I… ssssuck them.” You droned out- not even bothering to make it sound like a question. Toji perked a brow in astonishment- he knew you wanted to do something to his chest- but the way you said it shocked him from how forward you were, knowing you usually danced around what you wanted leaving him to guess. 

“You want to suck my-” Toji tried speaking trying to get a clearer answer from you. 

“Your tits. Yes.” he scoffed at your crudeness. Toji thought it over, leaning back into the chair as he looked at your expression that got more and more flushed by the seconf. 

He sighed, tilting his head almost in pity at how nervous you had gotten, “I don't see why not.”

And with that you practically teleported onto his lap, straddling him as he sat on the dining chair. The over excited look on your face told him this had been a thought in your mind for a while-

His hands reached for the hem of the tight shirt- only for your own to halt it. “Don’t.” you smiled- almost maniacally. 

Toji shrugged it off, assumed you'd take it off for him and watched your hands trail onto his chest, placing your extended fingers onto each pec and squeezing lightly. “Are they sensitive?” you whispered feeling his hands rest on your hips with a sigh. 

“Dunno- no ones ever been weird enough to ask if they could suck ‘em.” he spewed almost in exasperation. Keeping a straight face as you huffed in amusement.

Excited to be the first to ever find out if he’d be responsive to you sucking them, you grinned. And that only proved his point in you being peculiar. 

You trailed your right hand down, now that you were up close you could see his nipple clearly through the strained fabric. Placing your index and middle finger on either side of the peaking color, pressing them closed and feeling the little bud between your fingers. “You said suck ‘em, not play with them.” he practically scolded, his cheeks starting to flush in the slightest. 

You sighed, leaning down and slipping your tongue past your lips- so ready to lick a stripe against the cotton. Only Toji watched what you were doing with furrowed eyebrows, a little unsettled that you were so eager to lick at them through fabric. But Toji knew he was in no place to judge, there have been stranger things done between you two, at his request. 

You fluttered your eyes shut as your tongue wet the white cotton. Almost instantly making the fabric clear against his nipple. Toji tried to keep an unbothered expression, but the small little laps against his nipple. The wet fabric caused his nipple to harden beneath the translucent spot you had licked.

Little by little, one gentle lick after the other, Toji started squirming beneath you. His cock rising not knowing if it was from your tongue, or from watching you. 

Feeling the sensitivity build up with every roll of your fingers over his opposite one. Till the feeling started making him regret allowing you this, and when he finally removed his damp shirt. 

Toji was able to feel the difference of how the air felt against his chest, being able to feel every light breath you exhaled from your nose. A shiver settled in his lower spine as you lightly brushed the tip of your tongue against the little bud of his nipple. 

Though the feeling was new- it wasn't unwelcomed. I think Toji would just see it as a new form of foreplay to be explored. 

Choso Kamo

Ahh my favorite boy. I'm discarding my favoritism for once. After a deep detailed conversation with my brother and a lot of analyzing, i've come to terms with choso being in the lower middle when it comes to how sensitive they are *sigh* as much as i'd like to say he's the most sensitive, i have to write this unbiased (￣ε￣〃)

I feel like the first time you ask him- out of all of them he would have the most ?? reaction. Let's pretend this takes place well after the many firsts of a relationship, okay? 

Sitting criss cross in front of each other on your shared bed. An expression that can only be described as mortified on his face, “You want to what?” he murmured with an irked head, thinking he misheard you. You sighed, all the confidence it took to say it the first time only to repeat it. 

You inhaled, “Choso can I-” you huffed seeing the look of mortification stay on his face, realizing he didn't mishear you the first time. “Would you let me- suck your… chest?” 

Choso knew of nipple stimulation, of how it can provide some pleasure. Though he himself hadn't explored it, he was skeptical of it feeling like anything to him. At first he’d only say yes to not embarrass you. 

“I don't see why you'd want to.” he mumbled to himself as he took his t-shirt off, you scooched closer to him, reaching out your hand and running your fingers atop the swell of one of his pec’s. 

“I found out the other day that some men have really sensitive nipples.” you smiled, running your thumb over the little peak. Flashing your eyes up and watching his expression go unchanged.

“And if mine aren't?” he looked down to your exploratory hand, raising a brow as you lightly swiped across it. 

You grinned, “There's no harm in checkin’.” with a hum, pressing your index finger and middle finger on either side of his budding nipple. Lightly pinching it between the sides of your fingers as he shifted softly.

“What does it feel like?” you whispered, flashing your eyes to his expression that seemed slightly perplexed. Choso felt his cheeks tingle, not from the action itself but watching that little glimmer in your eye form, how amazed you were at it getting firm between your fingers. 

Choso shifted slightly, feeling your fingers pinch softly. A small smile formed on his face as he felt the little pinch send a tingle down his spine. Choso furrowed his eyebrows, “Dunno.. weird?” he mumbled, causing you to flash a giddy smile. 

You pulled your fingers from his chest, and placed them into your mouth. Only the action confused Choso, since you asked to suck them, and didn't really get what this build up was about. 

“Like-” you scoffed, placing your damp fingers onto his nipple. “A good weird or a bad weird?” you smiled, seeing his lips part as you rolled his firm nipple between your fingers.

Answering your question without words, he let out a little exhale that took the shape of a moan as you pinched it lightly. “Is t-this what it feels like for you?” he huffed, his cheeks starting to blush as his cock jumped in his sweats. 

You grinned, seeing your efforts pay off in the meek way he asked that question. “Sometimes-” you hummed sweetly, watching his shoulders shudder. “Can I put my mouth on it now?” you grinned, Choso bowed his head- not wanting you to see the expression forming on his face. 

“If you want to.” he mumbled, straightening his back and planting his hands behind him- pushing his chest out to you as he looked to the side. You almost let out a lecherous giggle at how shy he looked, but you held it in. Not wanting to embarrass him any more than what was needed. 

You rested yourself on the backs of your calves, placing your hands on the sides of his ribs as he inhaled. Aware of what was coming but not knowing what it would feel like.

With a smile you leaned in and pressed a kiss to his temple, “You want me to jack you off too?” you whispered into his ear as you trailed your hand to his neglected nipple. Being able to see his cock rising to life beneath his sweats as you grazed your fingers against the other.

The way Choso called your name made it seem like you had just said the most filthy thing he had ever heard, brushing lightly onto his unstimulated bud, making note that though at first he may not feel much, the more you play with them the more sensitive they became. 

“I just wanna help,“ you smiled, looking down at the prominent bulge in his pants, “-but if you don't want it~” you teased, rolling the hardening bud between your fingers. 

“Just-” he huffed, feeling you roll the bud between your thumb and pointer finger, “Just don't say things like that-” he managed, feeling a small kiss pressed onto his cartilage before you trailed them down his neck.  

You left light trails of your saliva on the curve of his pec, looking up at him as you fiddled with his other nipple, “Is that a noo..? Or?” you smiled against his skin, being able to feel his heartbeat pound against your lips. 

Choso took a minute to think on it, your mouth avoidant of his nipple and your fingers stimulating the other making it very hard to think right now. You huffed a smile against the little trail of spit that glistened on his chest, “You think I can make you cum from just sucking them?” there you went again saying things that made Choso let out a sigh.

“No, probably not,” he muttered through clenched teeth, “probably’ll be frustrating to try.” he finished, feeling you hum against the curve of his tit. You took that declaration and started trailing your hand down his torso, keeping the other planted on the bed as you plunged your hand into his pants, grasping onto his member and assisting it out of his bottoms. 

You locked eyes with him, mouth watering at the thought of how tender and malleable his nipple would feel on your tongue. In tandem with the first stroke on his cock, you traced the tip of your tongue around his slightly swollen nipple. Choso’s lips unwillingly letting out a muffled grunt mixed with a whine. 

Though it takes more time to get him to that whimpering point, it's worth it.

(if u want more my ‘prettier in pink’ fic has soooo much nipple play with choso ʘ‿ʘ)

Suguru Geto

He'd look at you with a quirked brow, all but asking- ‘Are you serious?’ as you looked at him with dazzled eyes, your hands planted on his sternum as you straddled his hips. 

The question came from your lips without permission- middle of foreplay when your eyes caught onto his nipples. You traced the pads of your fingers onto one of them, hearing a low groan rumble from his tongue. Not from the feeling, but from the act of it. 

Suguru has always been open to trying anything once, and the way your eyes glimmered as you thumbed the little bud on his chest. “Can I suck them?” you muttered, feeling his hands trail up your hips, he perked his eyebrow, a light blush on his cheeks as you ground your heat onto him. 

Though he was confused at your request, he nodded his head ‘yes’. Causing you to hunch your back and lean your head down. Kissing on his bare collarbones, trailing them between his chest, leaving a trail of your spit between them as his clothed cock shifted beneath you. 

Usually Suguru was the one who took on the responsibility of pleasuring you over his own needs, even if you offered- he’d just tell you it's fine. So the dynamic was a little different as you kissed onto the swell of his pec’s. 

Suguru was watching you with furrowed eyebrows, convinced that this was hardly foreplay. Besides, what's gonna come from a little nipple sucking?

But as you circled the ring of his bud, the exhale that came from your nose tickling his damp nipple- a chill ran down his spine settling in his lower abdomen as you swirled your tongue around the ring of color. Again, not from the action itself, but how you mimicked the way he would swirl  his tongue around your own.

You flattened your tongue and did a full swipe of his velvet nipple.

Keeping up the light licks and small grazes of your teeth as he did with you, earning little to no reactions. 

And even as you were riding him- trying your best to give him some kind of pleasure through his nipples. But not only did you manage to get them sore, you managed to get him frustrated enough to groan in dissatisfaction. Even if he was fucking into you- your attempts at stimulation were mildly irritable.

“They've just never been sensitive.” he huffed guiding your head to pull from his chest and looking at you, only you muttered something like ‘lemme keep going’ 

That's when he just gave a little laugh, “No- its starting to hurt.” he joked, gripping onto your hips and fucking up into you- hoping you’d forget this little urge to suck his chest. 

Overall, he would let you. But realistically he wouldn't feel much, would let you try and try till they were sore just because he liked you so very much. 

Hiromi Higuruma

Unfortunately I think Hiromi probably has the least sensitive nipples:( 

When you asked he kinda grimaced? Not seeing attraction or a point in it since he's not reactive to those kinds of touches. But he would let you try after you looked at him with a pout. 

And try you did. You did all you could, rolling them between your fingers, pinching them, lapping at them softly, then harsher. Didn't really achieve much, but Hiromi did get hard watching you try. Finding it endearing that you were so eager to make him feel good from just his nipples. 

But once you gave up, Hiromi was eager to show you how sensitive his cock was instead. 100% believe all the sensitivity he would’ve had in his nipples, doubled onto his cockhead. 

Hiromi was very excited to show you where he was most sensitive, “You can suck and lap at that as much as you want- I'll be responsive.” He assured with a smug smile.

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆

[evieelyzabethh]

Warmer than a Comforter

pairing(s): Spike x fem!reader

summary: it wasn't unusual for Spike to 'break' into your apartment, but it was unusual for him to want to spend the night.

warnings: very long (4.4k words), spike being a simp, one bed trope, dry humping, thigh fucking, masturbation, some fingering, slight praise, Spike being Spike, a smidge of possessiveness, and thats about it

It was no secret to anyone your favorite time of day was long after the sun went down. A full-time college student who worked a part time job on top of that was no easy feat. Your time during the day was never your time, it was your shitty professors time who assigned reading after reading that needed to be read for the never-ending stream of papers and theses, it belonged to your shitty boss who piled on tons of paperwork and demanded you be at his beck and call even after you clocked out. As much as you loved them, your time off belonged to your friends; patrolling, looking through dusty-old books, trying not to die every time you stepped out of your apartment.

When you got home (if there was no patrolling to be done), it was your time and while you were tired, you made time for your nightly routine. You'd slip off your shoes and walk in the dark to make it to your room to turn on your lamp, because you'd be damned if you were turning on one of the big lights this late.

You would usually strip down and dig a pair of pajamas out of your drawers before taking a scalding shower. You'd brush your teeth and wash your face, maybe if you had the energy, you'd do a face mask and paint your nails. You'd turn on your stereo or switch on your TV to fall asleep to the fuzzy sound and soft light. This, of course, is what you'd be doing right now had you not walked into your house with company.

You could see him lounging on your bed, the darkness of his attire somehow darker than your unlit room. His duster slung on the back of your desk chair, only clothed in some tight navy shirt and jeans.

"What are you doing here, Spike?" You crossed your arms over your chest, annoyed when you realized he had his dirty ass boots on your bed.

"M' paying my favorite Scooby a visit." You walked over to turn on your lamp, giving you enough light to see how smug he was. His arms sat behind his head, his eyes glittering with amusement. He was doing this to annoy you. He did most things just to annoy you.

"Pay another Scooby a visit." You were dead tired, practically forcing your eyes open. You had just gotten back from work, your bag still in your hand which you used to knock his legs off your bed. He could've been stubborn, but he let you.

You stripped off your hoodie, flashing him your stomach as your undershirt rose with the movement. He whistled, "Scandalous."

"Get out of my apartment." You tossed your hoodie at him while rolling your eyes. He caught it midair, bringing it to his nose to sniff it.

"Smells different. You using a different bodywash?" You hummed as you walked around your room to find something suitable to wear to bed. It was dreadfully hot out, even worse than what you'd expect from a California summer. You had at least 3 fans going anytime you were here, especially since your landlord could never seem to find a permanent solution to the junky A.C unit.

"Midnight Rose. Real fancy stuff." You hadn't even noticed a difference, but of course Spike would. Vampire senses had a way of being intrusive in a way that was only helpful when it came to your cycle and saving you bed sheets.

"I like the other one better: the cocoa butter one. It was fainter. You smelt more like you." You scoffed.

"Duly noted." Your hands roamed over the old t-shirts from high school and camisole tops so old the straps had snapped on a couple of them.

Spike sat up on your bed, untying the laces on his shoes haphazardly before setting them by your bedroom door. He roamed around like you had been, picking up bottles of nail polish and flipping through one of the books on your shelf.

"You could spare me a bit of your attention, love. I mean I did go through the trouble of-"

"Breaking into my apartment?" You interrupted.

"On second thought, it was a bit easy. I pushed it a bit and the window came right out. Are you leaving it open for somebody?" His tone was supposed to sound much more teasing than it did. There was a pang in his chest, probably of jealousy. Much to his chagrin, he was jealous a lot these days and he couldn't quite tell if his frequent visits were enabling that or the very cause of it. Either way, it was hard not to just crawl through your window anytime he pleased.

You acted like you were annoyed and if he had a dollar for every time you threatened to call Buffy on him, he wouldn't need to dumpster dive for furniture. If he had another dollar for every time, you never followed through, he'd be even richer. You said it's because you could handle yourself without her help, but, admittedly, you didn't hate his company that much.

As far as house guests go, it could be worse. It's not like he eats all your food, talks your ears off, or is unfunny. He was just there. A pain in your ass sometimes, like when he insists on being half a step behind you during patrols and never fails to tell you how great your ass looks from behind. Never a malevolent presence, just annoyingly noticeable.

His boots were clunky, and he smelled of faint cigarettes and alcohol. He also hated silence. He was fidgety and anxious, even if his intentions were stealth, he couldn't help but break the tension and open his mouth. At times against his will, he just wanted to be noticed that bad. He just needed to be around you that bad.

"I keep telling the landlord to fix it, but he insists it's just fine. 'Nothin' some glue won't fix'." But you had tried gluing it. Had it not been for the clear shit jammed in the lock, the window would've just come right open with the flick of a finger.

"I could fix it for you." He went ignored while you had made your way to your bathroom, taking your hair down from the claw clip it had been stuck in for the past few hours. A slight moan of relief slipped through your lips as your fingers carded through it to massage your scalp.

"You know how to fix windows?"

"Well...no. But it can't be that hard. I've been around a few hundred years, surely I can figure out how to fix a bloody window." What he meant to say (if he had the balls) was that he would be more than happy to learn how to fix a window for you. It would give him an excuse to hang around, it would keep him in your good graces for a solid month, and he wouldn't have to break an entering anymore. Granted, his preferred place of entry had long been broken and he could always come through the front door, but it was a matter of principle.

You looked him up and down, trying to decipher if this was a set up for a joke or if he was actually serious, but he kept his head down. He hadn't been able to blush since he was a human, but the habit had a way of rearing its head for you.

He was so pretty too. With his high cheekbones and the way the warm light made his complexion look less ghastly. As ironic and cliche as it would be to say, he looked slightly angelic. Like one who fell from Heaven and donned the dark and mysterious charade to make it hurt less. He would burn away under a cross just to make it back to Heaven. Nearly break his spine falling out of windows and bleed out taking stabs if it meant he was closer to your doors. If there was one thing Spike did well, it was devotion.

"You wouldn't even know where to start. I'll just call Xander or something."

"What're you gonna do that for!"

"Because, Spike," you laughed incredulously, confused as to if this was going to become an argument or form a chip on his shoulder. "If I want something fixed, I'm going to call someone who does it for a living."

"But would Xander do it for free?"

"Would you?"

"I wouldn't charge anything of monetary value." You snorted, not surprised at all with his answer.

"You are such a whore, you know that?"

"What can I say, baby?" He leaned against the door frame of your bathroom, where you stood staring at your reflection in the mirror. He was happy that his nonexistent reflection could betray him. He was grateful to be a part of this routine - your routine- in a way that didn't disrupt your peace. It was soft. Almost domestic.

You were so meticulous about the way you scrubbed your face and brushed your teeth. He liked how when you took off your makeup the glitter remained. You sparkled at the right angles, really fucking sparkled. Of course, he was going to sit and stare at you; mascara still not completely wiped away, hair tied back with a fuzzy headband, lips agitated from being bit throughout the day. It was poetic. Second nature to him. He didn't need to breath, but it came to him then, overwhelming and filling his lungs like water until he was full as he stared at you in the mirror with not even his own reflection to judge him.

"I'm gonna hop in the shower."

"How rude, without me?" Damn, he sounded like a bloody idiot. You only looked him up and down, trying to appear deeply disgusted but stopped just shy of mildly annoyed.

"Get out of my apartment before I stake you." You slammed the bathroom door in his face, hiding your blush behind the wood.

"That's not a no." His voice is muffled behind the door, and as much as you'd like to believe he didn't hear it, you did laugh.

***********************************************************

Spike had to have been a cat in a previous life, is what you decided when you found him still on your bed, nose in some magazine he found pretending to care about the newest Natasha Denona palette.

"That crypt must be uncomfortable as hell for you to still be here." You skated around your room to sink beside him. He reaches across his side to pull out a bottle of water and hands it to you.

"Your showers are hot as hell; I'm surprised you didn't pass out in there." He flips through the pages nonchalantly, pretending not to be incredibly fixated at the water dripping from the nape of your neck and disappearing into your shirt.

"You would've loved that, wouldn't you? Getting to play 'knight and shining armor' while I'm conveniently naked." The sound waxy pages being torn was a surprise. So much of you and his banter was contingent on the assumption that neither of you meant anything serious so nothing would become anything.

Spike, who spent most of his mortal adult life swallowing his feelings until his stomach became an endless chasm where his feelings went to fester rather than die, was more than okay with this unspoken arrangement. Sarcasm was a second language to you. You were used to your words not mattering, especially since in your group of friends, your existence seemed to matter far less than everyone else's. You wondered if that was why you and Spike got along so well.

He just got you. Maybe a side effect of him being around you whenever he could. He just got you. In a stupid way. In an annoying way. The kind of way that made you worried that reading minds was also one of his vampiric powers. He wormed his stupid way into your brain, slithering around in his own sort of Spike way til you didn't know where his influence began.

He did sort of have this hypnotic way of speech. Maybe because he was a poet. Poets have to have some sort of hypnotic power, right? Surely, there was some connection between rhythms and brain waves that made the effect of Spike's voice so persuasive. Maybe it's not the rhythm and it's just the honesty. Ironic, since the basis of your "relationship" was built on never assuming that the other meant what they said, but who cares. It gave you guys flavor. Something to keep things interesting.

"I'll have you know; I am a very old-fashioned guy with manners." You snorted as his response. He talked about his "old-fashioned" ways a lot. Maybe to convince you that he was a gentleman. Gentleman your ass, you'd seen what he kept in his crypt.

"My deepest apologies for assuming that a guy that used railroad spikes as a murder weapon of choice wouldn't be above jumping at the opportunity to see me naked."

"Am I that transparent?"

"When it comes to mirrors, yeah." His scoff was lost in the sound of a car horn going off across the street. Damn, you needed a new place. He had complained to you about the noise before. If you didn't leave near a busy street, he would try his luck spending the night far more than he already did. Each blare deepened the scowl on his face as he flinched at the sound, even louder from where he sat in front of it.

"Those death buggies have to be the worst thing to come out of the 20th century. So obnoxious, and for what?"

"I imagine they are more convenient than horse drawn carriages."

"Yeah, more convenient and not even half the charm." He turned his head to gaze out the window. "It's not even a nice car! I'd rather ride around in the fucking Angel Mobile than drive around in that thing."

"You are so dramatic. Usually I just," you swing your leg over his waist, straddling and reaching over to close the window. He swallowed hard at the feeling of your chest pressing against the magazine, the only boundary between him and you, and the nonchalance of the action. "Shut the window." You felt him tense beneath you, his right hand awkwardly meeting your hip, blue eyes staring up at you through dark eyelashes. "Then again, I'm not a pansy who needs complete silence to sleep."

He cleared his throat before he spoke. "I sleep in a cemetery, love, ain't much noise around those parts." His eyes wandered everywhere they could but the worst part about beautiful people is that there is no unsightly place to avert your gaze. He couldn't stare at your gorgeous eyes, or your stunning nose, or your lips to distract himself from the steadily growing boner that you were sitting right on top of. You were no better than he was.

Within the context of the unspoken agreement, this meant absolutely nothing. The boner was just a normal reaction, that didn't have to mean anything. The way he was looking at you was a bit hard to ignore, but that was the way he always looked at you. He was a lot closer right now, sure, but that stupid lovesick look that you have spent years trying to ignore, totally just a joke. Not real at all. A trick of the light, in fact. The hard-on was very real though.

After sitting there for a few seconds too long, you shift your weight to move back to your side of the bed, but his hands keep you in your place. " 'm cold", he mutters, his thumb rubbing circles between where your shorts meet your bare skin.

"Yeah?" You feel him pressing up against your core. "I didn't think you could get cold."

" Me either but-", you lowered yourself completely on his clothed dick and the groan he let out was salacious. "Here we are." The frigid way he moved made his lie believable. Incredibly cautious, hesitant. No idea what to do with himself. He ran his hands along your thighs, up and down your side, one cold hand sliding underneath your shirt, rubbing the hem of it between his pointer finger and his thumb.

You leaned forward, warm breath fanning against his nose. It smelled like mint. You smelled like some sort of cocoa butter. Smooth and soft on top of him and he didn't know if you were going to roll right off or melt into his skin. Your hands come to the sides of his face, and you stare intently at him. He felt like he was under a microscope with the way you looked at him like you were committing each detail of him to memory so that even when you closed his eyes, it was still him burning in the forefront of your mind.

"You gonna kiss me?" You whispered, pressing yourself further into him. He let out a breathy laugh.

"What, a guy's always gotta make the first move?" With that, you leaned down to give him what was meant to be a quick peck. A tester. A tease. But when you give Spike an inch, he takes a mile, and he took the opportunity to devour you. Mouth open, sloppy, wet kisses while his hands worked as eagerly as his tongue did. You were a calming presence, slow and sane as you grabbed fistfuls of his shirt to try and ground the both of you.

Breathing through your nose, you inhaled him. The faint smell of smoke, the fresh smell of whatever he washed the gel from his hair with, the distinctly Spike musk. Your thighs wrapped him more closely, subtly grinding into his lap, ignoring the slight burn on your knees from the friction between them and your sheets. His large hands covered swathes of skin, cooling you where you grew too hot from his touch. When he had his fill, he broke away from you, still nose to nose, a string of saliva still between the two of you.

"Do you wanna spend the night?" Your voice was somehow meek as if there was any way in hell he would say no to you. He breathed out, turning his head into the crook of your neck, leaving searing kisses on your silky skin, worshipping at his altar, and thanking who or whatever got him here tonight. He kisses you from your neck, along your jawline, to the corner of your lips.

"Yes", he whispers against your skin. He bucks his hips into you, the imprint of his cock and the rough material of his jeans kissing your pussy through the thin layers of material. You nearly choke on his tongue at the feeling. Fuck.

Your eyes are closed, hips moving furiously against his, too blissed out to even care about the steadily growing wet patch in your underwear. You're lost in kisses, kisses that overwhelm and confuse and steal your breath until you wonder how much you need to breathe anyway. Along with not needing to breathe, you learned they must have incredible resolve. He chases you. Not like how a wolf chases a lamb but how the sun chases the moon.

He pulls and you push for breath, some sort of reprieve, some time for your mind to catch up with your body because right now everything but the way the seams of his jeans catch your clit is one of the only things on your mind. He pulls you, still, his hands squeezing at your waist, moving up to cup your breasts, thumbing at your nipples, and flicking the already hard peaks. And you push, still, not in protest but in harmony. Your hips pressing down, his jerking up. Your hands tugging his hair, his squeezing your waist. It was good. It was so good.

"What is the point", he starts breathlessly, "of these damn shorts if they're so thin. You're leaking right through, love." He smiles against you, sharp teeth grazing against your cheek as he smirks.

"Take 'em off me then." For once in his life, he takes his time. The desperation of his prior movements forgotten as he looks at you as he trails a finger from your chest down between the valley of your breasts, to your navel. He draws invisible shapes along your stomach, diamonds, hearts, and letters spelling m-i-n-e. And he stalls there. Looking from beneath you, smug as you ground yourself onto his dick in an attempt to move him along.

He was amused. Fascinated. You in your own world, mewling, moaning, putting on a show just for him. Choosing to ignore how sticky your panties had gotten, how much they stuck to your cunt as you wiggled your hips as if you could get any closer. Your tits moving with you, the way your mouth was slightly agape, the way you keened when you rubbed against him just right. It was no motivation for him to move his hands at all, not when it was much more rewarding to angle his hips up and make you see stars. "You gonna cum like this?" He crooned, full of fake sympathy.

"You're really gonna make me get myself off." You rolled your eyes, maybe out of pleasure, maybe out of faux annoyance. Either way, his hand slithered to the waistband of your shorts and dipped even deeper. He left feather-light touches on your clit which sent jolts of electricity up your spine. Overcome with the tightening feeling in your belly, your hands grabbed at his shoulders as your hips worked and worked you snapped. Impossibly wet and dazed, you rocked into him until the high had passed and the stars had left from behind your eyelids leaving only Spike.

His fingers still, in your panties, he moves to slide them and your shorts off your body. You hover slightly, still too sensitive to rub your bare pussy against him. You fidget with the button of his jeans and zipper, Spike's hands coming to cover yours to ease the shakiness. Maybe to give the appearance that he was much calmer than he was. He was painfully hard, and you felt it when you palmed him through his boxers after getting his pants down enough. Where his tip sat was a wet spot. You smirked.

"Did I get your dick that wet?" A shiver went down his spine. The heat from your palm was felt through his boxers. Your hand was barely big enough to cover it. Before either of you was prepared for it, he flipped you on your back. His hands sat on either side of your head while yours removed him from his boxers. He was so big.

You tore your gaze away from his cock to meet his gaze. He still looked at you the same. Pupils widened from lust, cheeks with a slightly pink tinge, lips puffy, eyes looking down at you with the same look they always had. It's then he leans down to kiss you for the millionth time. No urgency, less messy, a kiss like he was trying to wake you from a thousand-year slumber.

Your hand still on his cock, you pumped it a few times, swiping your thumb against his tip to lubricate his dick. He groaned into your mouth, humming in pleasure. You try to line him up to sink in your hole, but he slaps you on the wrist. "Don't want your cunt tonight," he mumbled in between kisses, "Jus' let me feel you."

He pumped his cock a few times before slotting it in between the meat of your thighs. The veins and ridges of his dick would occasionally slide between your folds, but that wasn't the focus. No matter how much you wiggled for him to plant his cock so far deep it kissed your cervix, you were ignored as he squeezed your thighs together, panting as he fucked them.

The juxtaposition made your head dizzy. The softness with which he kissed you and the fervor of his dick between your thighs, them getting wetter with the accumulation of precum leaking from his dick. It only forced him to press harder, leaving handprints from how hard he gripped. "Such a pretty thing, aren't you." He sighed out, his pace still even but his breaths far from it. "Go ahead and touch that pretty cunt f' me."

As much as your brain wasn't working, it wasn't needed to do what you were told. Bleary-headed, your hand traveled from the outside of your leg to between your folds. Still wet from your previous orgasm, it didn't take much to just slip a couple fingers in, moaning as you did. One hand toyed with your tit as the other toyed with your clit, your hips wanting to buck into your hand had it not been for Spike's palm on your stomach.

Had he had the composure, he would have made some sarcastic comment. Slow down, love, what's the rush, is what he would've said had his thrusts not been as sloppy as they were. He pulled away from your lips to see the mess he was making. White beads pooled on the skin of your stomach, dripping down your thighs like liquid pearls. And you. Low warm light bouncing off your skin, lip tucked in your teeth, staring right up at him. It took all of him not to cum at the sight.

Not before you did, he decided, which by the way your moans pitched up wasn't that far away. Each "accidental" slide into you was met with a jerk of your hips. "Stop it", you squealed, the bucking of your hips screaming otherwise.

"Feels too good, doesn't it." Then he did it again. His large hand drifts around before grabbing your abandoned tit, groping it until you hit your limit again. Your chest heaved unevenly as you tried to catch your breath as Spike's hips sped up, stuttered, then stopped as his cum splashed on your stomach and breasts.

Spent and not knowing what to do, he kisses you again. He smiles into it, and to his surprise, you do too. Like it was the only thing that made sense to do. The fuzz gradually fades from your mind, the noise from the multiple fans running and the faint humming of electricity apparent again. There's a breeze coming in from your window and you giggle.

"Are you still cold?"

[ddejavvu]

anakin being so pussy drunk that he cant sleep bc he didn’t fuck you at least once that day but you’ve already gone to sleep. he can’t help himself seeing you all so pretty and peaceful sound asleep that he doesn’t even bother to wake you up just sinks his cock in without a second thought.

does anyone know where to get a wet floor sign cause i gushed

obvious cw for somnophilia, very quick and fleeting mention of anal (no actual activity), don't like don't read.

this post is 18+, minors dni.

His cock is already hard from the moment he steps through the door- perhaps if he hadn't spent the elevator ride thinking about sinking it into your wet, warm cunt, he wouldn't be so inconvenienced.

But it's hard, and aching, and only getting worse, so he sheds his Jedi garb as quickly as humanly possible. A belt here, a tunic there, boots sloppily discarded by the door. By the time he gets to your bedroom he's wearing only an undershirt and briefs, but he disposes of the thin cotton shirt in the doorway.

You're sleeping. Illuminated gorgeously by the two of four moons that are visible from Coruscant's surface. They spill a pale halo of light around your sleeping form that catches on your sleek satin gown, pools deliciously in the space just beneath your thighs where the chub of your ass takes over and- Anakin's even stiffer.

It's a gift from whatever god Anakin unconsciously believes in. Whether it's a local legend from his days on Tatooine, or the will of the Force, some higher power has shed ethereal light on your body, and Anakin feels called to indulge in its divine gift.

You're laid out on your stomach with one knee tucked up to your side, and an arm thrown beneath your ribs to offset the heft of your breasts. You complain about pain when you lie on your stomach for too long- Anakin's surprised that you're sleeping like this. But he is not complaining, not when it offers him a perfect view of the gentle curve of your mound that rests between your thighs, parted to offer your leg enough room to bend the way that it does.

His cock begs for your pussy, tearing and ripping and struggling against the fabric of his briefs, and when he yanks them down his thighs his cock springs so tightly that it hits his stomach, leaving a sticky smear there.

No matter - things will get messier.

Anakin can't spot a wet stain on the pad of your panties, but it's no matter. He can supplement until your body catches up. He retrieves a bottle of lube from your bedside drawer- almost empty, seriously, do you guys fuck that much? -and pools some on his palm, stroking his dick with it so that it smears over his length.

He has to be careful not to work himself up too much with his own hand- no self-achieved orgasm will ever be as good as what he'll experience in your cunt.

His dick is properly slicked now, but he squirts a generous stream of the stuff onto your cunt once he pulls back your panties, unable to resist the urge to spread it through the split of your ass.

That's not the hole he's going for tonight, but he's never been able to keep his hands to himself.

Hands braced on either side of your body- one slick with lube - he leans his weight on the mattress, and draws his wet hand back to his cock. He needs no help after the initial guidance of the first thrust, and once he's gently pushed his cock through your artificially slickened entrance, he huffs out a sigh that blows hot against your back. The slip you're wearing is low-cut enough that the heat hits your bare skin, and he's not sure if it's the penetration or the sudden gust of air that makes you shiver.

You let out a strangled moan- something between surprised and pleasure, and Anakin is relived to feel his cock sliding smoothly through your cunt. You nag him about wasting lube; he's a very generous pour, but if it means you're feeling pleasure and not discomfort, he'll empty the whole bottle.

He dips down to kiss your cheek, his broad shoulders flexed against his muscled back- not that you're awake to enjoy it.

"Shh, s'okay angel," He groans, drawing in a shaky breath as he drags his hips backwards, pushing in once more to the heat of your cunt, "It's- it's okay, I just- agh, I need this. Just- let me have this, angel, let me- let me take it."

[piroulinewafers]

hello!!!! your caleb works are amazing!! i was wondering if you would be interested in the prompt of caleb comforting the reader when she feels like “too much” and tries to avoid him? i’ve been in fandom spaces for such a long time of my life like you and often even friends have made me feel kinda shit about being authentically myself. whether you want to do smut or fluff is completely up to you!! thank you, have a great rest of your day :)

𝐚/𝐧: i completely understand how you feel anon. i find it very difficult to express my interests and act "authentically" in fandom spaces because there's usually such a preconceived notion about how people are "supposed to act" or respond to things. i do think the only way to truly find comfort in these spaces is to find like-minded people and to curate your own spaces. if someone is a jerk to you for being yourself, and for expressing your interests, then they don't deserve to have you in their life. your happiness and comfort should always come first.

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: caleb x fem! reader 𝐜𝐰: none. 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬: open.

the soft buzz of the refrigerator was the only sound that filled the apartment.

it was the kind of quiet caleb hated— not peaceful nor still— just hollow. the light in the living room cast long shadows across the floor, golden and soft from a single lamp she’d probably turned on out of habit. the kind of thing she always did. always so thoughtful, so careful… even now. 

she was on the couch, curled into herself like she was trying to disappear, a blanket wrapped around her shoulders and her knees pulled to her chest. she looked small, or at least, like she was trying to make herself go unnoticed. just staring. just… somewhere else entirely.

caleb had known her long enough to know that something was weighing greatly on her mind.

he lingered in the doorway for a second longer than necessary, his jaw clenched. the day had been long. brutal, even. a headache throbbed behind his eyes.

he finally stepped into the room still wearing his pilot suit— the tan jacket slung open just enough to show the white undershirt beneath, sleeves pushed up like he’d been elbow-deep in something just moments ago. there was grease smudged near the hem of his sleeve, and the harness across his chest tugged lightly against his shoulders with each element. he looked like he’d walked straight out of the hangar, and admittedly, the day had been so rough from the training module he’d had, caleb hadn’t even bothered to change his clothes.

but none of the mattered. not when she looked like that.

he crossed the room with quiet steps, settling onto the far end of the couch. not touching her. not yet, at least. just sitting close enough that she’d know he was there. 

she didn’t react. his voice, when he finally spoke, was low. careful. 

“why are you avoiding me?”

she tensed immediately. not a flinch, not a gasp— just a subtle stillness that told him she’d been waiting for that question.

“i’m not,” she said quickly, too quickly. she hadn’t even bothered to look at him.

he exhaled through his nose. “don’t lie.”

she didn’t say anything.

caleb leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “you barely talk to me unless i bring it up first. you leave the room when i come in. you pretend to be asleep when i get home late. you think i don’t notice that?”

she turned her face away, just a little. her voice was barely above a whisper. “i didn’t want to bother you.” 

the ache in his chest deepened at that.

“bother me?” he echoed, almost disbelieving. “you think… you could ever bother me?”

she gave a weak, almost breathless laugh. not out of amusement. more like she was trying to play it off, to keep her voice steady while everything inside of her cracked.

“it’s just—“ her shoulders rose, like she was trying to almost physically shrink away. “you’re so busy. you’ve got so much going on. the daa, your other friends, everyone looking up to you, all those job opportunities…” she paused, swallowing thickly. “and i’m just… here. i get overwhelmed. i cry about dumb things. i’m cling and loud and— and i know you say its okay, but…”

caleb turned to her fully now, eyes locked onto hers. she was finally looking at him— and god, she looked wrecked. her cheeks were pink, like she’d been crying earlier and tried to make a poor attempt at hiding it. her clothes disheveled, and she smelt of sleep.

“but what?” he asked gently.

she swallowed hard, voice cracking. “but i feel like i’m dragging you down. like… you’re carrying all this weight and you come home to me, and i’m just— one more thing. you don’t need me getting in your way when you’ve got the whole world on your back, caleb.”

his heart shattered clean in two.

for a second, he said nothing. then he reached out, not abruptly, but with quiet certainty— cupping her cheek and guiding her to look at him properly. 

“don’t say that,” he said, quietly but firmly. “don’t ever say that again.” he forced out, perhaps a little too harshly. 

“you are not one more thing, where did you even get that?” he questioned, every word heavy with conviction. “you’re the only part of my day that makes me feel like myself.”

she blinked, wide-eyed and still hesitant, and he could see just how much she wanted to believe him.

“i’d give it all up,” he blurted out, brushing a thumb under her eye where a tear threatened to fall. “the rank, the career, the image— all of it. none of it matters if i don’t have you. i’d walk away in a heartbeat if you asked me to.”

she blinked at his words, unsure how to respond, tucking her chin lower.

he paused, staring at her intensely as he reached down and took her hand, squeezing it gently. 

“tell me, do you want me to drop it all? ‘cause i will. just give me your word and i’d do it. i’d do anything for you.”

that was the last thing she wanted. she didn’t want caleb to throw everything he’d worked hard for just for her own sake. 

“i don’t want you to give anything up,” she whispered, voice small. “i just… didn’t want to be a burden. i know i can be too much.”

he leaned in, resting his forehead against hers, voice barely about a breath.

“you’re not a burden, ‘nd you surely aren’t ‘too much’.” he said. “you’re my home. you’re the reason i survive those days when i want to give up. i don’t need you to be perfect or always okay. i just need you. however you are, whatever you’re feeling. i just need you by my side.”

her lip trembled. “but i fall apart sometimes. and i overwhelm you.” 

“then i’ll be the one to help pick you back up. that’s what love is, isn’t it? you don’t have to hold it all in just to make space for me. you seep saying you’re too much, but you’re the one thing i just can’t get enough of.”

by now, she was crying, the slow unraveling of pressure she’d held onto alone for far too long. 

caleb kissed the side of her head, pulling her closer into his side. she let them fall as she leaned into his chest, arms curling tightly around his waist like she was afraid he’d vanish if she didn’t hold on.

he held her, just as tightly, burying his face in her hair and breathing her in like she was the only oxygen that mattered.

“i’m sorry i avoided you,” she whispered, muffled into his shirt. “i just didn’t know how to say it. i didn’t want to ruin everything.” 

“you didn’t ruin anything,” caleb responded, voice thick. “you never could.”

they stayed like that, in the soft hum of the lamp-lit quiet, wrapped in each other as the rain outside passed. 

and when she finally pulled back to look at him again, cheeks damp and eyes red, he smiled.

the whole world could fall away and crumble for all he cared, so long as she was in his arms. 

[lovebugism]

Heat wave with Eddie and he's watching you on the other side of the couch and he wants you so bad but it's so hotttt

thanks for your request lovey!! — the one where you and eddie try to make the most of the heatwave (established relationship, implications of smut, 1.3k)

bug's summer fic fest ♡

Metal heads hate summer. It’s an unspoken fact. Wild hair, leather jackets, and denim jeans don’t fare well in the heat.

And while there were many bonuses to the warmer season — the music, the ice cream, and you in a bikini to name a few — it didn’t quell Eddie’s personal vendetta with summer. Or rather, summer’s personal vendetta with him.

The month of August was hardly more than an incessant heatwave. One hundred-degree heat, statewide. Without a cool breeze to fill the seasonal silence, there was nothing but a low sizzling sound — like burgers cooking on a grill. The two of you got into his van for a Slurpee run one simmering afternoon and suffered second-degree burns from the pleather cushions and metal seatbelts in the process.

It was miserable. Eddie was far too pale and he liked the color black far too much to find any enjoyment in the summer months. And just when he thought it couldn’t get any worse, the power goes out. 

And the only thing worse than a power outage during a heatwave is being horny during a power outage during a heatwave.

“The neighbor said there’s outages all over town—” Your voice comes muffled from where you pad around in the kitchen. “—So, we’ll probably be out for a while.”

You return to the living room wearing an old, white-ribbed tank top and a pair of Eddie’s plaid boxers, rolled at the hem to fit you better. You carry two glasses of lemonade in your hands, fogged with the cubes of ice you’d dropped into them before they could melt in the freezer. 

You’re too pretty for your own good. Eddie’s suffocated by the sweltering heat as much as he is by the overwhelming urge to touch you.

“Fuuuck,” he groans in response, sprawled out on the couch across the room. He’s barely moved from that spot all day. He only got up once to tie his hair back and then anxiously pace back and forth for several minutes. A few ornery curls stick to his forehead, damp with sweat. “Should we just, like, get a hotel or something?”

“With what money?” you scoff in place of a laugh.

His scrunched brows go lax. “Oh, yeah…”

“We’ll be okay. It’ll only be out for a couple more hours— at least.”

“Hours?” Eddie whines, all pinched-browed, as you hand him his lemonade.

You scrunch your nose down at the boy with a sympathetic gaze. “Think we can survive that long?”

“I’m withering away as we speak,” he deadpans.

“You’re so dramatic…” you giggle. The unkind words come out coated in a layer of sweet honey. You love him too much for anything else.

You pluck your book from the coffee table and plop down on the other side of the couch. You curl your knees to your chest, not having much room left over from Eddie’s longer legs. 

He’d tried to do the same an hour or more ago. He’d been too bored to read then. All the words melted together because his brain was swimming with heat. He doesn’t know how you’re doing it, honestly. All he knows is he can’t stop looking at you.

You’re a pretty little thing sitting across from him. So much of your skin is on display — arms, collarbones, ankles, and thighs. He wants to kiss every inch of you. He could if it wasn’t so damn hot. Now, all he can do is admire you from a distance and pray the power comes back soon so he can love you all over.

Eddie shifts on the couch for a few moments. He jostles the cushions beneath you as he twists on them, maneuvering so his legs are propped up on the coffee table and he’s slouching against the back of the sofa. 

His underwear rides up his pale thigh. The white undershirt he refuses to take off is damp at the collar with sweat.

You pay little attention to his fidgeting. He’s often restless, but especially when he’s got nothing to do. You feel his sticky fingers curl around your stickier calf a second later. His touch is soft and slow, sweet like syrup, as he smooths his hand up and down the back of your leg. 

You shoot the boy a look from over the top of your book. “You okay, Eds?”

“Other than melting?” he retorts with his head tilted to his shoulder. He shoots you a wide, fatigued grin through his reddened cheeks. “I’m peachy, sweetheart.”

“It’s a little too hot to be touching each other right now, babe,” you advise with your gaze turned back to the book in your lap. He keeps on caressing you, though, and you keep on letting him.

“I know…” he murmurs with a faint pout scrunching his features. His palm squeezes the top of your ankle before rising again. “I just miss you…”

“I’m right here,” you counter with a soft giggle.

“You know what I mean…”

“Yeah,” you concede with a sigh. “I know what you mean.”

If you had it your way, Eddie Munson would be touching you all the time. He usually is, anyway — but every second he’s not, it feels like you’re grieving. You’re made restless because of how underwhelmed you are, all grumpy because you’re so sticky with heat. You want so desperately to curl up in Eddie’s arms and hide there forever, but it’s already getting hard to breathe without the AC on. And the sweat’s making your clothes cling to your skin. The thought of physical affection right now makes you feel a bit sick.

He squeezes your calf again, this time to get your attention. 

Your eyes peek at him from over your book. You find his flushed face curled into a tired, yet still mischievous smirk. 

“And, you know, just for the record or whatever,” he lilts quietly with a twinkle in his chocolate syrup eyes. “If it wasn’t a billion degrees in here, I’d totally plow the shit outta you, sweetheart.”

Your eyes go wide at his words.

You might’ve laughed if you weren’t so immediately turned on.

You squeeze your knees together, clenching your thighs in hopes of soothing the ache that begins to pulsate between them. “Wow. That is… very forward of you, Eds.”

“I think the heat’s making me delirious,” he admits with his head tilted back against the couch. His pale, sticky neck is on display for you. You feel the sudden urge to sink your teeth into the milky white tendon there.

“Well, good thing about power outages in the summer — the cold water in the shower feels like heaven,” you tell him, feigning absentmindedness as you flip a page of your novel.

Eddie’s brows raise beneath his damp, curly bangs. He grins with a newfound light in his eyes. “Ooh,” he singsongs. “Are you implying what I think you’re implying?”

“I have… three more pages left in this chapter,” you tell the boy after flicking through the book. You shoot him a glance beneath your lashes — less obvious in your mischievous disposition but still sparkling with it anyway. You knock his thigh with your foot. “Go get undressed, loverboy.”

Your words bring him back to life. 

He surges with an energy he lost sometime between the late spring and early summer as he leaps off the couch. He nearly trips over the coffee table on his journey to the bathroom. His hurried footsteps stomp, stomp, stomp down the hallway.

You hear the shower faucet hiss on from a distance. It’s music to your ears. You know you’ll be in there all day — or, at least, until the power comes back on. You’re left suddenly hoping it won’t come on for another good while yet.

Not until Eddie makes you forget your name against the shower wall.

[admirationandromantics]

Tension-Filled Moments

Another request I got! Hope everything's fine with everyone, currently remodelling my posts, so I guess having some sort of intro here is obligatory? Anyways, requests are still open, so come with more if you want to. Enjoy! <3

Word count: 2,9 k

“Sam, I look ridiculous!” I complain, walking out of the fitting room. I’m wearing a horrid-looking orange-red dress. It highlights my worst features. 

“Okay, I hear you” she sighs. “It looked better on the rack, try the red one instead” she waves her hand dismissively, urging me to get this filth out of her vision. At least she didn’t have to wear it. I take it off, making sure to be careful. I swear to god, if I ruin this and have to pay for it, it’ll be the end of me. The end of my wallet to be specific. Anyone who bought this type of clothing should be ashamed of themselves. I hang it back on the handler, taking forth the red short dress and putting it over my head. It’s dark, fitting, with a neckline that’s a little too low. I love it. I walk out, spinning and parading in front of Sam, and she cheers in response. 

“That’s what I’m talking about! See, you kiss a thousand frogs, you’ll eventually find your prince!” 

“Well, all that time trying on outfits paid off when this was the result” I exclaim, turning and looking at myself in the mirror. I look amazing, hot, sexy. Just like I was planning. 

“Ashley’s wearing brown, right?” I ask, looking over. It was a colour-party, but since no one wanted a colour that had the same letter as the first one in their name, everyone improvised. Sam was gonna wear gold, Chris green, Matt orange… Everyone was different. “I know, she said she wanted to go for something homey, though I think she and Chris will match more than we think” she smirks, and I smile in response. How can the both of them be so oblivious? 

“Think anyone will end up in the same colour?” she asks, a bit worried. 

“Nah, I think Jess made sure of that. She was scared for the same thing” 

“Well then, nothing to worry about” 

***

We make our way up to the Washington residence, the cold autumn wind flowing through our hair. The music is loud enough to be heard from where we parked, and the lights inside are blinking furiously. Sam opens the door for me, and I walk inside, surprised by the lack of people. We are late, at least by half an hour, but only Ashley, Chris and the Washington siblings are here. 

“Hey guys” I greet, walking over. Ashley looks stunning. How can someone look so approachable and glamorous at once, in brown? Chris didn’t put his heart in the outfit, a dark green shirt and tie paired with black pants. Beth arrives, wearing a dark grey suit with a white undershirt. It looks amazing, exactly her style. 

“Hey girls” she greets, walking over to us. She holds out her hands to Sam, signalling for her to take off her jacket. 

“Wow, such gentleman behaviour” Sam comments, taking off her coat, revealing her glittering golden dress. She looks stunning, like a goddess. Everyone looks at her in awe, and I get a glimpse of a slight blush on both her and Beth’s faces. 

“You’re like the sun, like a literal glowing person” Hannah comments, walking past her sister and giving her a hug. She’s wearing a long dark purple dress, almost so dark I can’t see the colour. 

“Matches her personality” I state, opening my jacket to hang up. At this moment, I suddenly feel a warm presence behind me. Something dark, something big. Two hands go to my shoulders, slowly dragging off my jacket. 

“I guess I’ll take this” he whispers, and I immediately recognise the voice. The famous Josh Washington. His breath is going hot against my ear, sending small shivers down my spine. I let him pull off the clothing, painfully slow, head near my neck the entire encounter. I try not to blush, try not to let the erotic images in my head get to me, but it’s hard. Each second feels like several minutes, like the whole room goes dark and we’re the only ones here. 

Safe to say I might have a thing for Josh, but he’ll never know that. We’re those types of friends who always flirt, always take the joke a tad too far, always do something to fluster the other. Everyone has gotten used to it by now, our bickering and small comments. They are never mean, but always have some sort of suggestive undertone to them. As he whispers in my ear, no one pays attention, everyone being busy with each other. If they only knew what goes through my head every time he does something like this. 

I turn around, the jacket finally being far enough down to not be in the way. I meet his face, now awfully close to mine. The things I’m thinking about, the things I want to do right now… 

“Well, I guess chivalry goes in the family” I state, looking him up and down. He’s wearing all black. A black suit with a black shirt. His eyes stand out as the only colour shown. 

“Maybe it does, but you wearing that dress isn’t gonna make it last long” he whispers, just out of earshot for the others. 

“Say, are you staring down my chest right now Joshy?” I ask, a smirk forming on my lips. 

“Hard not to” 

“Funny guy”

“I try to be” 

I clap him on the shoulder in a joking manner before turning to walk over to the others. 

“Well, keep trying” 

They’ve started drinking, everyone having some sort of colourful drink. I grab a blue one, making my way to Hannah. 

“Wow, look at you!” she shrieks, eyes widened. “You look like you just came out of Vogue!” 

I laugh in response, thanking her. “What about you though, looking like you’re about to go to a gala”

She twirls in response, the dress following in a graceful manner. It is truly a stunning one, and the colour is breathtaking. We talk for a while, not about serious stuff, just random things that happened during the week. 

“Mike came to see me” she suddenly says, taking a long sip of her drink. I furrow my brows in confusion. 

“Why?” 

“Well, he had some down-time from his studies” she smiles, giving me a wink. A dark feeling grows in my chest. They’re not close friends, they never have been. 

“And you…” I start, hoping that she finishes my thought. 

“Oh no, no!” she laughs, waving her hand. “Nothing happened, of course not. I would never do that to Emily. We just talked” 

“Right” I sigh, uncomfortable with the whole situation. I know Emily is very insecure, at least deep down. I don’t think she would appreciate her boyfriend coming over to her friend late at night to talk. I look over at Sam, and she’s on her way to the bathroom. 

“I’ll be right back Hannah, just have to accompany Sam to the bathroom” I quickly say, making my way to the hall, following the blonde. 

“Psst, Sam!” I whisper-yell, and she turns around, noticing me. She shakes her head, holding her hands forth. 

“Let me come with you, please” I beg, making a pouty face. She rolls her eyes and signals for me to join her. 

“This better be important” she huffs, linking our arms as we walk down. 

“I just wanted a break, heard a little more than I wanted to” I state, relaxing against her. 

“The late visit Hannah got from Mike?” she asks, and I look at her face, confused by how she already knows it. She notices my stare and laughs, a small and gentle one. 

“Heard it from Beth” she explains, and I nod in reply. That makes sense. 

“How long do you need to be gone for?” she asks impatiently.

We stop, a couple of doors away from the bathroom, and I look at her accusingly. She seems anxious, like she doesn’t really want me here. 

“Sam, what’s going on? Are you okay?” I ask, sensing her impatience. 

“Um- I just” she starts, unsure of what to say next. A switch in my head clicks. She snuck out, she doesn’t want me here, and her cheeks are red and flushed. The realisation hits me in a flash. 

“You’re going to have sex with Beth in the bathroom!” I exclaim, proud of my mystery-solving skills. Her hand flies to my mouth, shutting me up. I didn’t realise how loud I was. 

“Are you insane” she scolds, and I immediately feel bad. 

“Sorry Sam” I muffle under her fingers.

Her hand moves away from my mouth, a little at first to check that I won’t scream. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll keep her away” Josh says, suddenly standing beside us. 

“Josh?” we both say in unison. What is he doing here? 

“I was just-” Sam starts, stammering even more than before. He holds a finger up, and she stops. 

“I absolutely DON’T want to know about my sister’s encounters. Please don’t make me kick you out”

Sam smiles in response, giving him a nod before continuing to the bathroom. She disappears down the hall. 

“Wow, you saved yourself a murder trial” I comment. “I was positive she was gonna kill me” 

“Nah, Sam couldn’t, but Beth would” he adds, holding out his hand for me. I take it, and we start walking back. 

“You know, you should wear suits more often” I say, looking over at him again. 

“Oh, really? Are you into this?” he smirks, eyes catching mine. 

“Maybe a little” I shoot back, and he takes a deep breath. Two can play this game, and he should know how easy it comes for me. I only say what I think. 

“Let’s say I were to slam you against this wall right now, and feel myself up your thigh” he starts, and my cheek flush. Thank god it’s dark here. “How would that make you feel?” 

I feel my heat getting wetter just from the thought. It would never happen, but it’s still something that I think about every night. Often ending in a cold shower. 

“Fine, we can both do this” I say, and he gives me an intriguing look, eager to see what I can come up with. “Let’s say, Josh, I was to slam you against this wall. I would kiss your neck, bite your skin…” I continue, stopping us, and letting my finger trail his upper body. I slowly move it down as I continue. “And I would bend down in front of you, lower, and lower, and lower” I say, each repeating word slower and more sensual than the last. His breath quickens as my hand makes it to his lower stomach. He’s quick to take hold of my wrist before it goes further. 

“You’re good at this” he whispers, faces closing in. He smells good, a mix of pine and cinnamon.

“Don’t start a fight you can’t win Josh” I tease, dragging him over to the party. 

The others have finally arrived. Jess in a stunning light blue, Emily in glittering silver, Mike in white and Matt in orange. 

“Hey guys!” I greet them. Jess gives me a loud shriek, jumping up and down like a child. 

“You look beautiful!” 

“So do you, Jess” I exclaim, and she gives me a little spin. I look over at Emily. She’s got shiny silver pearls in her hair, complimenting her 20s dress. Classy and elegant, like she always is. Hannah approaches her and Mike, and I take that as a sign to leave. If something breaks out, I don’t want to stand in the middle. 

I walk to the kitchen, quick to make myself a drink. I don’t care about which colour, just that it’s strong. Suddenly, a hand makes its way to my waist, grabbing my skin harshly. I bite my lip to stop a sound about to escape from my mouth. If he only knew what doing these small things did to me. Not only this, but the small touches too. The slight brush of our fingers when walking past each other, those beautiful eyes narrowing just a bit, that small lick to his lip whilst talking. Everything gets me going, and it’s exhausting. I turn around to face the culprit. 

“Well, hello again” I smile. 

“Felt the need for another break so quickly? You were barely out” Josh comments. Again, everything seems to fade away as we talk, every single person and object being blurred out in the background. 

“Or maybe I just wanted to get your attention” I tease, biting my lip a tad too noticeable. He glances down at them, his own lips parting slightly in response. 

“You certainly got it” he whispers back, head slowly moving closer to mine. 

“Guys!” Chris shouts, running into the kitchen and slamming the door close. The heat of the moment fades as fast as it came. 

“What’s up Chris?” I ask, and Josh takes a step back, moving to lean on the counter on the opposite side of me. Chris is panting heavily, a light pink shade covering his cheeks. 

“Calm down bro, what’s going on?” 

“I think I’m about to fuck Ashley”

I stare at him, eyes widened. Where did this come from? I thought this would take an eternity for the both of them. 

“Chris, you need to take a breather” I state, holding my hands up for him to calm down. “We already know you want to, but you’re about to?” 

“It just- it happened so fast!” he exclaims, rambling on. 

“Wait, have you already had sex with her? How many people are gonna take advantage of my house tonight?” Josh asks, looking over at me. I smile. 

“Everyone but you darling”

“Oh, but believe me, princess, I’ve got someone on the hook tonight” he winks, and I roll my eyes. 

“Guys listen to me!” Chris yells, stealing our focus back to him. “We were in the hallway, and I think we’re both drunk, I don’t know-”

“You’re definitely both drunk” I interrupt, earning a glare in response. 

“Anyway, and the moment was there, everything was heating up and… Well, she kissed me” 

“Oh my god!” I exclaim. Finally it happened. 

“Dude, are you serious? Well done!” Josh moves to give him a high five, but Chris leaves him hanging, causing him to disappointedly take down his hand again. 

“And what happened after?” I ask, intrigued and excited. 

“Well, we made out for a while, and she said something about ‘being sooooo tired’ so I ran over here to you guys” 

We both look at him, mouths wide open. He just left? She gave him such a hint and he came here instead of being with her? 

“Dude, you messed up” Josh says, hand moving to his head. 

“Ashley is probably waiting for you” I add. It’s like he has a major realisation, eyes widening and a surprised look. 

“Shit, shit, shit” 

“Run man!” Josh urges, and Chris thanks us before running out of the kitchen again. 

When he leaves, I look over at Josh, who’s already facing me. We both burst out laughing, and keep going for at least two minutes. We finally calm down after a bit, and I try to regulate my pulse. 

“God, I can’t breathe” I smile, flapping my hands for air. I feel hot, my face is probably super red and my stomach hurts from all the laughing. 

“You know, there’s other ways to get your breathing like that” he says, and I look up to find him smirking, both hands leaning on the counter behind him. He looks stunning in the black suit, and I can already imagine him taking off the jacket and choking me against the wall. 

“Does that do something to you?” he asks, biting his lip. 

“I’m positively dripping right here where I stand” I answer, not exactly lying. 

“Then you know how I felt in the hallway” 

“Luckily for me, it doesn’t show, you however” I say, pointing to his nether region. 

“You think I don’t know when I turn you on?” He takes some steps closer, leaning a bit over me. 

“As if you’ve ever seen me turned on” I whisper seductively. 

“Trust me, I know. There’s a slight blush on your cheeks” he starts, hand moving to cup my face. “And your body gets incredibly warm” he continues, the other hand moving to my arm. “Of course, there’s also those small squirms, the way you subtly rub your thighs together, as if waiting for me to do something about it” his hand graces down my arm, following down to my hips. 

There’s no air in the room, no way to breathe. His face gradually moves closer, heads tilting a little in opposite directions. My heat pools as his hands continue feeling me up, groping me. One flies to the back of my head, tangling in my hair and pushing me towards him. His hot breath graces my skin, the smell of alcohol and wood mixing. Or noses touch, and- 

The door abruptly opens, and Emily barges in. We hop away from one another. 

“Fucking hell Josh, can you please control your sister?” she asks, irritated and going right for the strong stuff. 

“What’s going on Em?” I ask, almost afraid of the answer. 

“She’s all over Mike, my Mike!” she shouts pouring her drink all the way to the brim of the glass.

“Just chill Emily, everyone knows he’s your boyfriend, she’s not gonna do anything” Josh says, trying to calm her down. 

“You’re right, at least she won’t if her big brother is in the room. Come on, both of you!” she urges, waving her hands like one does with dogs. We look at each other before obliging, walking with her out to the living room.

[erwinsvow]

Listen.....Only fans nurse "accidentally" moaning jack in one of videos and biting her necklace and the next time she see him she says his name so sweetly and bites her necklace just like the video before telling him a patient needs him

ohmygod i blacked out.

you posted the video specially for him, after your shift, taking the time to shower and do your hair and get dolled up despite how tired you were. you like the night shift because it's a little less stressful and the lighting is great during the day for your little side hustle, which had started out as a way to pay off your student loans, and now had earned the attention of your favorite attending.

like it didn't make you feel warm and needy every time he told you good job, or great work. or the thank you, sweetheart, you get when do that thing he loves, reading his mind and getting something ready before he asks for it.

what can you say? you're good at your job. both of them.

and jack is incredibly smart, very handsome, brilliant at his job. but he's still an old man—not that you'd ever tell him you liked older men anyways. you're sure he's overheard your conversations with the other nurses, how they ask why you're single or why you keep turning down that paramedic, or why you won't go on a date with the son of a radiology tech who keeps bringing it up. her son is cute, single, and an engineer, apparently. but you don't care, you explain, see, you like your men a little more mature.

jack abbot is in an uncannily cheery mood for the rest of the shift.

and so, the little game of cat and mouse continues. you post the video—on your bed, in a nightie that gets half-way removed, and not using anything but your fingers—because jack abbot is traditional. you can tell. he'd probably be angry if you brought a toy into his bed, he'd probably try to explain that just because other boys your age are lazy, doesn't mean that he is. and then you think—well, you fantasize, but it's only a fantasy for now, since it'll come to fruition soon enough—that he would show you that when you're with him, you don't need a toy. you don't need anything, nothing except him, his fingers, his mouth, his dick.

well, at least that's what you think about while you make the video. and at some point, you think about those dog tags you've seen him wear—that one time he got blood all over his scrubs and had to take the scrub top off so he could gown up. you had seen them over his white undershirt, and since that day, you'd wondered what it felt like to have them dangle near your mouth while he did whatever he wanted to you. you know what you'd do—bite them, use it to bring him in closer so you could kiss him.

and that's what you do with your own little necklace, biting down hard, moving your face down an inch so he could see it whenever he watched this video, which by your approximation, might be right before his shift tonight.

your shift tonight.

filmed, edited, uploaded, and then you go to bed. wake up, get ready, and head to work for your night shift.

and as soon as you walk through the door, you see him, looking like he always does—tense, stressed out, ready to go. you smile at him, and about fifteen minutes later, the charge nurse tells you to go find dr. abbot for the incoming, and you comply, heading over to him smiling brightly and putting that necklace between your lips while you hand him a gown and gloves.

"did you have a good morning, dr. abbot?" you ask. idle small talk in the ambulance bay.

"i had a great morning," he starts, before leaning in. "you had a better one, though, huh?"

still smiling, still biting.

"we'll talk about it after the shift," he says and he walks towards the sirens, and like always, you follow.

[greenwitchfromthewoods]

crying through the kiss - Clint

900 Followers Milestone Celebration - kissing prompts

bio : This story is part of the 900 Followers Milestone Celebration - kissing prompts.

person ordering: @hbjhbjjh8

warnings : angst, fluff, tears, tw: postpartum depression, tw: breastfeeding, toddler, baby crying, motherhood

[my masterlist]

You were sure that the sound was piercing your brain and penetrating every cell, every nerve. Your body was like a tense string and you were getting closer and closer to the limit, the crossing of which could only mean one thing - you would fall to pieces and no one would pick you up.

Despite everything, you quickly entered the room and looked into the crib, taking the crying baby in your arms.

"Hush... Hush, little one. I'm here. I'm here..." you repeated, hugging your daughter and gently rocking her. You did it so automatically that you wondered if you'd ever be able to move normally. The child's body was still tense, and a cry escaped from his toothless mouth that tore you apart.

It was already dark, Clint should have been home a long time ago, but despite everything, you were still alone.

"Hush, Sophie... Daddy will be home soon... I'm really trying and..."

The grating of a key in the lock and after a moment you heard familiar footsteps. With great difficulty you held back the tears that were welling up under your eyelids. You didn't want your husband to see you in such a state. You tried to put your daughter in her bed, but she immediately started crying again, so you resignedly hugged her to your chest.

"Baby?" the door opened and you saw Clint. He looked surprised and a little scared when he entered your daughter's room. "I'm sorry, it took me longer than I thought. I should have called, but I didn't have the opportunity or..."

Sophie screamed even louder, and you were already rocking so hard that you looked like a roly-poly toy.

"Give me a moment." Clint said quickly and disappeared into the bathroom.

"Sure, sure..." you mumbled between the soothing sounds you tried to make, which had absolutely no effect on your daughter.

But after a few seconds, Clint appeared. He took off his shirt and was only wearing a white undershirt, he must have washed his hands too because you could smell the floral soap. He took Sophie from your arms and placed her on his chest, resting her small head on his shoulder.

"Poor thing, has she been crying for so long?" he asked, stroking her back with his hand, under which almost her whole body was hidden.

You shrugged, pushing the locks of hair away from your face. "The whole day, I think." You replied "I've tried everything, really... I don't know if it's the belly or something else..."

It was only then that Clint noticed it - you were still wearing the pajamas he saw you in in the morning, you had only thrown on a cardigan on top. Total exhaustion was written all over your face. His heart was breaking at the sight of you.

"Have you eaten anything?" he asked, the little one on his shoulder slowly calming down.

You looked away so he wouldn't see the tears welling up in your eyes, and nervously you started to fix something in the crib, you shook your head. "I didn't have time..." you replied quietly "It was...a hard day."

"Take a shower, honey. I'll take care of her, okay? You should rest."

You nodded and left the baby's room without a word.

Sophie was your dream come true and when she came into your lives four months ago, you and Clint were the happiest people in the world. You knew how much he dreamed of having a family and you couldn't imagine anything more beautiful than a little baby with his eyes. Sophie was perfect, but motherhood wasn't, or at least you hadn't experienced it yet.

When you closed the bathroom door behind you, you sat down on the bathtub and hid your face in your hands. You didn't know if you were tired, sore, sleep-deprived, hungry, or maybe all of the above. You looked up and saw a breast pump standing on the shelf. That's right, you should still pump milk for Sophie...

When you entered the bedroom, Clint was sitting on the bed in his boxers and glancing at the monitor on the table. Sophie was sleeping soundly in her bed. Sometimes you hated him for how well he handled her, how submissive she was in his hands.

"Maybe I should order some food? Would you like something?" he asked, looking at you with affection.

You shook your head and sat down next to him. You were wearing clean pajamas, not the ones that smelled of milk. You even managed to wash your hair and put on some eye patches, although you weren't sure if they would be able to help you.

You flinched when you felt his hand on your back, he stroked it like he did with your daughter, and you immediately closed your eyes.

"I'm sorry." Clint said quietly "I've had a lot of work lately. I shouldn't have left you alone with her for so long."

"She's my daughter, I should be able to take care of her, right?" you replied quietly "Just today... And yesterday and..."

A sob escaped your throat and you hid your face in your hands again. You didn't protest when Clint pulled you to his chest and hugged you tightly, kissing the top of your head. Tears flooded your cheeks.

“I’m trying so hard, Clint…” you sobbed. “But she was crying so hard and I couldn’t do anything… I’ve breastfed her, changed her diapers and put in three loads of laundry. My pajamas are full of stains from the food I eat in a hurry and from the milk.” you sobbed again “I wake up every two hours at night… I look like a zombie and even though I try so hard, I feel like I can’t handle it… that one thing would be enough to break me. I love you and Sophie, but I feel like you’d be better off without me. She listens to you, you put her to sleep in five minutes and I couldn’t calm her down all day…”

The next words poured out of your mouth and Clint listened to them patiently, although with each one he felt his heart breaking more and more. He took care of the baby whenever he could, he kept repeating that you should rest, that he would handle it. But you had a strange conviction that you should be a super woman and handle everything on your own. And now it was too much for you.

“Sweetheart…” he began when you stopped talking, but you continued to sob, “You’re the best mom to Sophie. But you take on too much. I’ve told you so many times that you should rest, that I can take care of her…”

"I'm still breastfeeding her."

“Then stop it.” You looked at him like he was crazy, but you saw nothing but calm and concern in his brown eyes. “You’ve already given her so much. It won’t hurt her to start formula now. She’s a strong, healthy girl thanks to you. This whole lactation terror…”

"W-What?" you chuckled.

Clint smiled uncertainly. "You've been reading about that lately, right?" You nodded, because you didn't think Clint had noticed. "I think you should consider it. It'll give you more freedom. You won't have to worry if you've pumped enough milk, and I'll be able to get up to her at night without waking you up."

“Baby…” Clint brushed your damp hair away from your face. “You’re the best. You’re amazing. You’re all my dreams come true and you’ve given me the most amazing daughter in the world. But I can’t watch you wear yourself out because you want to prove something to the world and to yourself. We’re family. I’m your husband and I won’t let you do that.”

“I don’t know if I can do this any other way, Clint…” more tears rolled down your cheeks. “My whole life I’ve felt like I had to prove I was the best, that I had to handle everything…”

"But now you have me. And you're perfect for me."

His warm lips brushed your wet cheek, then the corner of your mouth, until he finally slowly and carefully kissed you. Clint was always gentle and affectionate towards you, and now you needed him even more. Your hand tenderly stroked his bearded cheek as you kissed him back. You could feel the salty taste of your tears, but that wasn't important. It was the two of you that mattered.

"I guess you're right..." you said quietly as he hugged you again "I should let it go..."

"Mhmm... I saw a newly opened beauty salon in town. Would you like to go there?"

"You're crazy!"

"Maybe, but I love you." He kissed your temple. "Let me take care of you, baby. You know I want nothing more."

You nodded. For the first time in a long time, you felt relief. You knew that everything wouldn't change right away, but at least you had a plan. You were a family, you had to work together.

And when Clint returned to the bedroom with a sandwich and tea for you, he saw you fast asleep. You looked exactly like your daughter, and he had never felt happier than when he had both of you by his side.

[phoward89]

Based on this ask

Academy! Coryo x Academy!Reader,

WARNING ⚠️ Coriolanus is a warning in and of itself. Smut, p in v, tittie sucking, tittie fucking, cum licking, groping, cussing, first time, just the tip is NEVER just the tip, Obsessed!Coryo, Big Breasted!Reader, Pervy!Coryo, Virgin!Coriolanus, Virgin!Reader, Shy!Reader

When you hit puberty you begin developing breasts faster than your peers. When the other girls are in training bras you're wearing an underwire. And then when everyone hit high school at the Academy, well they're in cute little demi-bras and Lacey bralettes while you're in full coverage/support bras. You have a drawer full of underwires, front closures, etc. Yes, your bras are cute too, but unlike the other girls at the Academy you have to go to a special bra/lingerie shop that specializes in products for large breasted women.

Your mother was shocked that you're so busty since she's on the smaller side. Your older brother, Rein, was so afraid that you'd be taken advantage of or find yourself in trouble with boys because of having big boobs at such a young age. He more of less big boob shamed you (which you learned after dating your boyfriend wasn't cool) and convinced you to wear larger/baggy shirts to hide the size of your boobs.

So for years you listened to your brother and wore larger shirts. Underneath your shirts you always had a strappy tank or a cami on over your bra, to work as an undershirt/barrier between your skin and the larger, baggy shirts you always wore.

One day, when you're in your senior year literature class, you feel like you're being watched. As if somebody's breathing down your neck. You look over your shoulder, trying to catch whoever’s staring you down in the act, only to see your classmate with his head buried in his book.

Coriolanus Snow.

You've known him since kindergarten. He's best friends with Sejanus Plinth. You're friends with both of them, but it's not like you hang out with them alot. Or actually it's not like you hang out with Coriolanus a lot. You hang out with Sej. In fact your mother encourages it. But you think that's cause his family's filthy rich.

You just brush off your feelings as silly, as being paranoid. The boy with a halo of light golden curls wasn't leering at you, he had his prominent nose in his copy of The Crucible. He was the top of your class; very serious and studious.

Of course he's engrossed in his book. The same book you and the rest of the class are reading.

It's about the Salem Witch Trials thousands of years ago in a New England colony of North America during the Pre-Panem times. The book's actually a screen play by a famous writer- Arthur Miller. Your teacher says that there's a film too; that once the class has finished reading the book, testing on it, and writing the thesis on it, then the class will watch the movie.

Oh, you can't wait for that.

You go back to reading your book, causing Coriolanus to let out a tiny breath he didn't even know he was holding. The top student was, in fact, staring at you like you hung the moon and stars. Truth be told, he stares at you in the few classes you share.

Coriolanus always sits behind you, looking at you longingly. He's known you for at least 12 years now, but it wasn't until this year that he realized he needs you.

Biblically!

Coriolanus is enthralled by you. There's just something about you, he can't quite put his finger on it, that makes his cock twitch and his balls tingle. His palms go sweaty and his mouth waters. He can't look at you without getting hard.

Hell, he's thankful for the godforsaken kilt that's apart of the Academy uniform otherwise he'd have visible wet spots (cum stains) on the crotch of his pants. Yes, he cums just by staring at you and fantasizing about all the things he wants to do with you.

God, how he wants to fuck your pussy for bad. You're such a smart, sweet girl and he's got a dark desire to fuck you dumb. He also wants to fuck your throat until your vocal chords are shit to hell. Damn, he wouldn't mind tearing up your ass either.

And of course, he wants to eat your cunt. He also wants to suck on your titties. Coriolanus will never admit it, but he's a boob guy. Bigger the boobiea the better.

But that's the only thing about you that puzzles him. Your boobs. He can't get a good estimate on their size by looking at you because you always wear baggy and loose shirts.

Coriolanus often imagined what your tits look like underneath your light blue uniform shirt. He hopes that one day he gets the chance to find out.

Almost being caught staring at you was what Coriolanus needed to give him the courage to approach you. He's been staring at you like a creep since Fall and it's now late Spring, so it's time to make his intentions known.

Coriolanus’ icy blue eyes look at you from over his book as he hatches a plan to get you to go out with him. He knows that you're friends with Sejanus and that the big bear of a boy has a crush on you, so he needs to make his move fast.

Maybe after class?

Yes, Coriolanus decides he'll approach you after class.

You're packing your stuff up in your Academy issued leather satchel whenever a shadow falls over you. You look at, curious to see who's casting a shadow over you, only to see Coriolanus’ tall form towering over you.

“Hi, Coriolanus.” You smile, closing your satchel.

“Please, Y/N, call me Coryo.” The handsome blonde boy insists with a smile.

“Okay, Coryo.” You agree to use the nickname while slinging the satchel over your shoulder. “So?...”

“I was wondering, my darling, if you, perhaps, would like to eat lunch with me?”

“Are you asking me out on a date to the mess hall for lunch?”

“Yes?” Coryo smiled, sounding nervous.

You thought it was so cute how Coriolanus Snow, who's usually so composed and confident, was a bundle of nerves asking you on a lunch date. His cheeks were flushed and the tips of his ears were pink.

“Okay, let's go.” You tell him, smiling happily.

And that's the moment that Coryo snagged you up as his girl.

You've been with Coryo for a couple of months now and the boy's eager to get into your panties. So eager that if he doesn't fuck you soon then he's going to explode and die. Well, not really just metaphorically, but still…If he doesn't get to stick his desperate over horny, pervy big cock into your tight virgin cunt he's going to lose his mind.

And it's not like his sanity's that stable to begin with. He's already a bit obsessive with you.

The 10th Hunger Games is fastly approaching and nobody really gives a shit. There's commercials for it on CapitolTV, but people’s grown bored of it. It'll be airing in about 3 weeks, starting with the reaping on July 4th.

And of course in your social studies class you're learning about the reason for the games- again. The Academy teaches it every year. It's overkill really. Of course, your teacher assigned a group project about the good of the games, blah blah blah. You could care less, but of course your boyfriend volunteers to be your partner for the project.

And he cares.

Not about the games, but the grade that the project on the good of the games can grant the two of you.

So, that's how you find yourself in your bedroom on your bed books scattered around and a poster board on the floor one afternoon after school. Your mother's staying the week with her boyfriend, trying to fuck and marry her way out of living paycheck to paycheck, so you're home alone with Coryo.

Which is why your project supplies are scattered all over and Coryo's got you in his lap, tongue shoved down your throat as he kisses you like a starving man that's just been given his first meal in years.

You've kissed Coryo before a few times since you've been dating, but nothing like this. Nothing were you're all alone with no one to interrupt you, where you have the freedom to maul each other's faces off while breathlessly melding your lips together and rocking your lower bodies together.

Coryo hasn't been able to cop a feel of your boobs yet, since you've never been alone for too long or always had the fear of somebody walking into the room on you. But now, since you've got your apartment all to yourselves for a few days, your boyfriend with the light golden blonde curls is finally able to fondle your tits. Unknown to him, you're very busty.

And unknown to you, Coryo's a simple man with simple tastes when it comes to a woman's body. He's a classic T&A man.

He loves himself some good old tits and ass. And the bigger the titties the better.

Coryo's mouth pulls away from yours, leaving a messy trail of spit hanging between your kiss swollen lips. As you pant, trying to catch your breath, your boyfriend's leaving sloppy open mouth kisses along your jawline and down your neck. You feel warmth pooling between your legs and let out a little mewl, but then your eyes go wide as you feel Coriolanus' large hands each grab at one of your large breasts.

Coryo smiled into the crook of your neck as he realizes that you're hiding some big ole boobies underneath your loose fitting uniform shirt. Fuck, he squeezes your big boobs again while lifting his head up. A wide, manic grin spreads over Coryo's face. “You're hiding some big titties under this baggy shirt, huh, baby?”

“Coryo…” You sigh, feeling a bit embarrassed, while trying to squirm away from him.

“What's wrong, Y/N?” Coryo asks, feeling a bit rejected as you try to push him away. “I thought we were having a good time fucking around?”

“We were but then…” You trail off, only to wave a hand in front of your big boobs.

Coriolanus’ brow knitted and his nose twitched slightly in disbelief. “What? You mean you're embarrassed that I grabbed your perfect, squeezable tits?”

“It's embarrassing to be 18 and have boobs bigger then some grown women, Coryo. It's-” You began to explain why you're self conscious about your big breath only for him to, oh so eloquently (not) interrupt you with, “That's bullshit, Y/N.”

You blinked at him, unsure of how to react to his sudden outburst.

“I like titties; ass too, and believe me the bigger the better.” Your boyfriend, who’s usually so prim and proper, bluntly tells you.

“Yea?” You ask a bit thickly, feeling all of your nerves fluttering in your stomach like butterflies.

“Yea.” Coryo nods, a lopsided grin on his lush lips. “How ‘bout you show me what's underneath your shirt? Hmm?” He suggests, waggling his brows.

“Okay.” You nod, causing your boyfriend to quickly unbutton your shirt.

But as soon as he pushes your open shirt over your shoulders he's signing in frustration. Tilting his head and giving you a sideways look, he dryly asks, “Why're you wearing another shirt for?”

“I always wear a cami over my bra. It's a barrier between my skin and the loose fitting shirt; it also slims down the bulk of my boobs.” Was the explanation You gave your stumped boyfriend.

“Well, I don't think that you need to do that anymore, Y/N. And, darling, I also think that you need to wear shirts that actually fit you.” Coryo tells you his honest opinion while grabbing the hem of your strappy camisole, he pulls it up. You raised your arms, letting him pull it up over your head. Tossing it over his shoulder, he licked his lips as he saw your big boobs threatening to spill out of your bra. “Let's free these puppies, shall we, baby?” He rhetorically asked, icy eyes gleaming with joy.

You nod and unhook your bra for him. As soon as you finish taking off your simple, but supportive bra, your boyfriend's on you like a magnet. His hands are grabbing and jiggling your large breasts while he burries his face in your cleavage.

Coryo feels like he died and went to Elysium as he sucks and nips the the sides of your boobs, where your cleavage is. Oh gods, how he loves your big ol’ boobies. Being face first in them turns him on, makes him harder than he's ever been in his entire life.

Coryo pays your big breasts lots and lots of attention. He sucks, kisses, and nips them all over before alternating sucking and pinching your nipples. He massages, gropes, jiggles, and fondles your big tits. He even takes his shirt off and makes you ride his thigh while your chests are pressed together.

Fuck, he just loves the feel of your perfectly big titties.

You're laying on your bed, legs spread wide open as Coryo fucks you with just the tip of his cock. Because just the tip doesn't count. It's not real sex if it doesn't go all the way in.

At first the two of you agreed to mutual.masterbation sitting across from each other on your bed. But then with how horny and pervy your boyfriend is, that turned into you two practically inches away from each other with him saying that the tip of his cock would feel so good in your cunt. That you could rub your clit and get off while he could jack off and get off.

At first you were iffy about it, saying that you've never done anything like that before. But he assured you that if you didn't like it then he'd stop.

Well, as it turns out you really liked it and he didn't stop.

“Coryo, your tip feels so good.” You mewl, rubbing your clit as you were trying to satisfy that itch you needed to scratch, that tingling feeling twitching deep inside of your wet cunt.

“Fuck, baby.” Coryo half groaned, pumping his shaft while lightly thrusting the tip of his cock in and out of your juicy wet cunt. His large cock’s red and angry with arousal. If he doesn't fuck you, really fuck you balls deep, then he's going to go completely insane.

Not like he isn't already halfway to looney tunes town already, but still…

“Baby, please, just let me slide my cock all the way in. Let me fuck you; make us both feel so good.”

“But I don't have the birth control implant; were too young for an accident.”

“How bout after you cum I pull out and tittie fuck you; cum all over ‘em big ol’ titties I love.” Coryo suggested while bucking his hips a tiny bit harder; making his tip slide a little bit deeper into your slippery wet cunt. A cunt that wants to greedily suck his cock inside of her warm, wet depths.

“Okay.” You nod. “But you have to promise to pull out and cum my tits, Coryo.”

“I will, baby. I promise, I will “ Coryo quickly swears before slamming his hips into yours and sliding his cock past your barrier and into the tight, hot, wet canal of your virgin cunt.

Or should he say no longer virginal cunt. Just like his 8 inch cock's no longer a virgin cock. Oh, how he loves the fact that he's finally fucking you after so long.

Coryo, having never fucked anyone before (just his fist and he's desperately humped his pillow a few times while fantasizing about you too, but he'll never admit) was a bit jumpy and all over the place with his movements. His thrusts were uneven and all too buckled. You were feeling desperate for some kind of relief so you start canting your hips up, chasing your high. A high that you desperately need.

Your hips rising up to meet his grounded your boyfriend's thrusts, gave him a guide on how to pace himself. Well, how to pace himself as best as he could cause he still wasn't really slowing down or something out of his motions.

It's only his first time (yours too) so it's going to take a couple more times of exploring each other to get more comfortable with fucking. He's a horny teenager after all.

Seeing your big tits bouncing around as he fucking you desperately into the mattress had Coryo in a trance. Goddamn, how he loves watching your big boobies jiggling around. The sounds of them smacking against your skin was like music to his ears.

The platinum blonde with a halo of curls dipped his head down and began sucking on one of your nipples while squeezing and smacking your other boob with his large hand. His free forearm was bracing the mattress, keeping him balanced and upright as he frantically fucked you like a bitch in heat.

Oh god how your tight pussy felt so good around his cock. And playing with your big titties as he rutted against you was.the icing on the cake.

The feeling of his large cock sliding in and out of your cunt, slamming into your special spongy spot, paired with the feeling your his mouth and his hands on your boobs had you nearing your peek. One on your hands was on his shoulder, nails digging into the skin; sure to leave marke, while the other was between your legs rubbing your clit.

“I'm so close, Coryo.” You whine, causing him to pull his mouth off of your boob with a loud pop.

‘Let me play with your pussy, baby.” He tells you, batting your hand away from your pussy only to replace it with his own. As his thumb quickly rubs fast circles against your clit, he fucks you fast while ordering, “Fondle your titties for me, baby.”

So, as he continues to pound you fast and desperately, you play with your nipples and grab at your big boobs- just like Coryo told you too.

Suddenly, the feeling of everything’s too much and the dam breaks. White hot pleasure shoots thru you as you let out a mix of curses and Coryo's name.

Coriolanus groans as he feels you soak his dick. The feeling is heaven. It feels so good. He continues to fuck into you until your panting and coming down from your high, then he's quickly pulling out of you and scrambling to straddle your chest.

“Y/N, hold your tits together so I can fuck the space between them.” Your boyfriend instructs you, causing you to quickly do as you're told. He quickly positions his dick in your cleavage only to start bucking his hips back and forth.

A throaty moan fell from his throat as he held onto your headboard, looking down at the sight of his cock slipping between your big breasts. “Oh, fuck…that's so hot…” Coryo chokes out in a deep moan. He watched his cock slip in and out, in and out of the tight space you made for him between your perfect breasts by holding them together.

And suddenly, with a final thrust,.his balls are twitching and he's emptying out rope after rope of hot, thick, cum on your boobs.

You stop holding your boobs as Coryo carefully stops straddling your chest and takes his place next to you on the bed. You thought that he was going to reach over to grab some tissues from your bedside table, but he didn't. Instead, Coryo used his tongue to clean the thick, pearly cum off of your boobs.

Yes!

Your boyfriend's so obsessed with your big titties that he licked them clean.

That shocked you.

And then after your big boobies are clean, Coryo kisses you passionately. You can taste the slight saltiness of his cum on his tongue as he slips it into your mouth. It's a very erotic kiss, to say the least.

When you break apart for air, Coryo gives you a satisfied smirk. Pulling you into his chest as he lays back in your bed, he tells you, “That was perfect, baby.” Pressing a kiss to your forehead, he tells you, “We need to get you some shirts that show off my beloved big boobies better. How can I go back to not seeing them on display after what we've just done?”

“I’ll talk to the Academy’s uniform department, get a couple of new shirts in my right size.” You tell Coryo, causing him to smile like a kid in a candy store.

Your project for your social studies class was half-assed and you had to skip your lunch period to work on it in the library since you spent the entire week meant to work on it fucking Coryo. But it all worked out. You and Coryo ended up getting an A+ on the project. You and Coryo also had lots of fun fucking each other and learning each other's bodies.

But one thing that never changed is how obsessed Coryo is about your large breasts. He's so obsessed with them that he'll just cuddle with you and rest his head on them. Something that freaks out your mutual friend, Sejanus Plinth, when he witnesses it at school during lunch and break periods.

But what can you can say? Coryo’s obsessed with your big boobs, but you wouldn't have it any other way.

Especially when the mentoring project comes around…

Tags: @kuroosbby001 @purriteen @poppyflower-22 @meetmeatyourworst @whipwhoops @bxtchopolis @readingthingsonhere @savagenctzen @ryswritingrecord @erikasurfer @tulips2715 @universal-s1ut @thesmutconnoisseur @squidscottjeans @sudek4l @wearemadeofstardust0 @mashiromochi @gracieroxzy @belcalis9503 @shari-berri @aoi-targaryen @whiteoakoak @spear-bearing-bi-witch @gisellesprettylies @loverandqueenofdragons @qoopeeya @mfnqueen1 @permanentlyexhaustedpigeon88 @v-love @swiftieblyth @joyfulyouthlover @harvey-malfoy @tian-monique @chxrrybomb22 @marvel-hiddles-stark @xjinnix @devils-blackrose @zombicupcake3 @jacesvelaryons @tempt-ress