#and he likes to tilt your chin up before he plants a kiss on you :((
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galactic-magick · 2 days ago
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For You: AU!Claggor x Reader
Summary: In the alternate timeline, Powder encourages you to admit your feelings for Claggor.
Words: 800+
Author's Notes: Adult alternate timeline Claggor is fine af so I wrote this short oneshot. Also I just needed to write something more lighthearted and cute after writing that devastating Viktor fic earlier. Enjoy <3
“I don’t get why you can’t just tell him,” Powder huffs, shuffling through her drawers for a particular brush. She glides on eyeshadow in your favorite colors, endlessly teasing you while she works, “It’s obvious he’s liked you since we were kids.”
“Oh, like finally admitting your feelings to Ekko was so easy,” you roll your eyes, causing her to scold you for opening them. “Besides, that’s not even true. He probably just sees me like a sister.”
“Look,” Powder tilts your chin up as she applies blush to your cheeks. “As someone who was actually raised as his sister, I can promise you he treats you differently. I catch him staring at you all the time, and he goes out of his way to be nice to you. Like, he literally made a new hybrid flower for you for your last birthday. What is it you’re not getting?”
“He gives plants to everyone, I don’t think I was special,” you shrug, pressing out your lips so Powder can swipe on some gloss.
“You’re a lost cause sometimes,” she sighs with a laugh. “Come on, it’s time to make our entrance.”
-
The Innovator’s Competition is crowded as usual, with loud music and ambient lights showering the entries and guests. Powder meets up with Ekko while you go to grab a drink and browse the inventions.
People start dancing, and you sway back and forth a bit to the beat. You don’t particularly want to third wheel right now, so you make do on the sidelines. You’re closer to the snacks here, anyway.
“Wow, Y/N. You look beautiful.”
You whip your head towards the voice, your mouth stuffed with one of Jericho’s famous, sloppy appetizers.
“Oh! Hi, Claggor!” You swallow as quickly as you can and wipe your face with your sleeve. “Sorry, um, thank you.”
“Anytime,” he chuckles. “How come you’re not out there dancing?”
“I...I just don’t like dancing alone,” you say, your eyes darting back to Powder and the other couples and friend groups on the dance floor.
“Well let’s go then,” he extends his hand to you.
You smile and take it, weaving through the crowd as he pulls you towards the middle. You see Powder give you a thumbs up before your attention is back on Claggor, and suddenly the crowded room feels less overwhelming.
You let lose, showing off your most ridiculous dance moves without a worry in the world. That was the thing about Claggor, he always made you feel safe, like you could be yourself whenever he was around. There is never a glimmer of judgment in his eyes, never an inkling of unkindness. He’s been your most stable and trusted friend for years—he played with you, explored the city with you, mourned with you, rejoiced with you. He’s just that kind of guy, with a heart of gold that never wavers.
But if you told him how you really feel—how you’ve felt since you were young—things might not be the same.
-
After the competition, Claggor takes the scenic route while walking you home, showing you a couple new gardens he’s been working on around the city. He hopes that one day plant life can be the key to the pollution problem in the underground, a dream that isn’t too far off with the latest hybrids and prototypes he’s made. It’s fascinating, and you’ve always admired his natural talent with nature.
He picks you a flower from one of the gardens, the kind he knows are your favorite.
“For you,” he says, slithering the stem into your hair. His hands, his face—it’s all so dangerously close now. You can feel his warmth, feel his gentle gaze.
Maybe Powder’s right, no man who saw you as just a friend would look at you like this.
You take the chance and close the space between you, kissing him quickly before stepping back to gauge his reaction.
He immediately pulls you back in, grabbing you by the waist and kissing you harder. You wrap your arms around his neck, fingers twiddling with his soft wavy hair.
“You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do that,” he says, your lips barely moving apart.
“I think I have some idea,” you giggle.
“Would you look at that, what did I tell ya?” You see Powder and Ekko coming around the corner, clearly ecstatic about this new opportunity to tease you. “Finally.”
Claggor keeps holding you close as you fire back, “Did you follow us just to say ‘I told you so’?”
“Nah, I didn’t even know you left the party yet,” Powder laughs. “But boy am I glad I saw this!”
She keeps walking with Ekko, whispering and chuckling as they go. You and Claggor can’t help but burst into your own fit of laughter as well, basking in the hilarity of the whole situation.
“We’ll never live this down, will we?” Claggor smirks.
“Absolutely not.”
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fluentmoviequoter · 2 days ago
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The Love We Share
Requested Here by @bradleybeachbabe!🤍
Pairing: Jim Street x fem!wife!reader
Summary: You and your husband spend your first wedding anniversary in Bali.
Warnings: fluff on fluff | Word Count: 1.5k+ words
Picture from Pinterest
Masterlist Directory | Jim Street Masterlist | Request Info\Fandom List
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Your alarm goes off before the sun rises. As you reach off your warm bed to turn it off, you can hear the wind blowing outside the window. California is experiencing unprecedented amounts of rain, dropping temperatures, and gusty winds that seem to make it twenty degrees colder than it truly is.
Rolling over again, you smile as your husband stirs beside you. Your first wedding anniversary is in two days, and your anniversary vacation begins in a few hours. Laying your hand gently on Jim’s shoulder, you shake him softly.
“Street, baby, time to get up,” you whisper.
He sighs, moving closer to you in his sleep. Shaking him a bit harder, you repeat that it’s time to wake up, but he only murmurs that he loves you and gets closer.
“Jim,” you say. “Our plane takes off in thirty minutes.”
Street sits up straight, prepared to throw the blankets on the floor to make your flight. He frowns as he notices you’re still in your sleeping clothes, and the drapes are pulled over the dark windows.
“You lied to me on our anniversary week?” he pouts.
“You weren’t listening. I just needed to get you up so we can enjoy the amazing, perfect trip you planned,” you defend, moving closer to Street with each word.
Street kisses you, sighing as he cups your chin in his hand. You laugh against him before you pull away and exit your shared bed. You do need to get moving, or your sweet, loving husband will get his way, and you will miss your flight.
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“Oh, it feels amazing!” you exclaim, spreading your arms as you walk out of the airport and into Bali.
“I don’t even mind the humidity,” Street adds, watching you with a smile as you tilt your face up toward the sky. “It’s fifty and cloudy at home right now.”
Street wraps his arms around your waist, and you turn in his arms to hug him. “Thank you for making this the best anniversary ever,” you tell him.
“It’s out first, you don’t have anything to compare it to,” he points out.
“No… but you just set my expectations pretty high for next year.”
Street sighs but can’t hide his happy smile before he kisses your forehead. “Head to the AirBnB, then see some sights?”
“Sounds perfect. Thank you, Jim.”
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The bungalow on the water that Jim rented is perfect. It’s quiet, private, comfortable, and has a view that makes you question returning to California. With your arms around Street, you watch the lush green plants pass by as he steers the rental’s motorized scooter toward a place he promised you would love. He reaches a small clearing and twists to offer his hand as you climb off the seat. As he swings his leg over, he watches you spin slowly and marvel at the trees. You’ve changed out of your traveling clothes into a loose tank top and cotton shorts and pulled your hair back. Street notices the frizz around your temples and knows he has been proven wrong. On your wedding day, he decided he’d never love anything more than he loved you in that moment. After a year of sickness and health, watching you enjoy time with him in a place so different from home, he realizes he will love you like he did a year ago. You will continue growing together, changing, and falling more in love as your relationship and feelings adapt through the seasons of your life.
A zipping sound draws your attention higher in the trees, and your jaw drops as you watch two people fly by on ziplines. Street takes your hand and leads you to the small stand with Dewi’s Lines painted on the plywood front.
“Hello,” Street greets, falling into easy conversation with Dewi despite the minor language barrier.
He draws you from the trees to sign a waiver before lowering to one knee. Street helps you into your harness, tugging the different connection points to ensure your safety. He wraps his hand around the rope running across your upper chest and pulls as hard as he can, laughing as you fall into his arms.
“I’m going to beat you in the zipline race for that,” you promise, smiling as you hold your hands against Street’s chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your right hand.
“No way,” he argues. “I’m trained for this kind of thing.”
You reach the top of the stairs and listen to the instructors’ tips, and then clip your helmet strap beneath your chin and hold the handlebar tightly. It’s a zipline that you sit in to enjoy the view rather than focus on holding yourself up. As you push off, Street yells once in excitement, and you smile as you watch him. Shifting your weight slightly, you move ahead of him and laugh as Street calls, “I watched a change in you! It’s like you never had wings!”
As you walk through the bright green grass to return your harnesses, you hold Street’s hand and watch his profile. You love Street more than anything, and the time and thought he put into your anniversary trip proves what you already know: that Jim Street loves with everything he has in him. You are the luckiest woman in the world to be receiving his love.
“I think we should find some good food, walk to the beach and watch the sunset,” Street suggests, unhooking your harness with gentle touches.
“I love you,” you reply.
Street looks up from the buckle against your hip and smiles. “I love you,” he repeats. “But that wasn’t really an answer.”
You roll your eyes even as you agree to a sunset picnic with your best friend. Even on the other side of the world, you are as crazy about Street in Indonesia as in Los Angeles, and you never want to be parted from him from this day forward.
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The day before your anniversary is spent visiting the Sacred Monkey Forest Sanctuary, watching locals surf, and exploring the Campuhan Ridge Walk with Street’s fingers interlaced with yours. When Street suggested you go somewhere where you could go outside, spend quality time together, and do new things for your anniversary trip, you immediately agreed. Someday, you might prefer the slower pace of a cruise or staying inside to watch the snow fall in the mountains. At this point in your life and relationship, you feel closer to Street with every breath of fresh air you take.
You and Street sleep in the morning of your anniversary, yet he has breakfast in bed when you rise. He kisses your temple, smiling as he remembers your reaction when he pushed his ocean-soaked fingers through your frizzy tendrils yesterday. The water had been cool, but your surprised shriek quickly turned to a contented hum as Street kissed you on the sand of Nusa Penida.
“One year,” you muse softly. “Already.”
“Many more to go,” Street promises, tracing his finger along the back of your hand. “Up for a dip at the Tegenungan Waterfall?”
You smile and wait for him to continue, then ask, “Is that all?”
“It’s our anniversary, I thought we’d just go with the tide, or whatever they say here.”
“What do they say in the LBC?” you tease.
Street drops his head to your shoulder and sighs like you’ve wounded him. One kiss to his hair later, he’s up and smiling again, and you shake your head at his dramatics. His loveable dramatics.
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Your eyes close, and your body relaxes as you float in the water at the waterfall's base. The water ripples softly as Street moves to your side. His arms move carefully, reverently against your skin as he pulls you against him. You open your eyes as you loop your arm around the back of Street’s neck.
“I’m never planning anything ever again,” you say. “You’re very good at this.”
“It’s easier when you love someone, knowing what they like, crave, need,” he points out.
“You,” you whisper. Street furrows his brows, and you trace your wet hand along his neck as you explain, “You are what I like, love, need, crave, all of it.”
“Well, if you’re going to use up the romantic speeches, then it’s only fair I get to plan the quality time.”
“It’s almost like you’re my better half.”
Street lets your legs drift down slowly. You stand in the shallow water and bring your other arm over Street’s shoulders as his arms settle on your bare waist. At this moment, with the trees swaying gently, the waterfall cascading down, and no one around, you don’t have to say you love Street. He feels it in how you touch and kiss him and shows you the same. It’s the best vacation you’ve ever had, a vacation to remember, but it would have been just as perfect in your bed with the Santa Ana winds howling outside because it isn’t about the trip, it’s about the man and the love you’re celebrating.
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kuroosweakness · 1 year ago
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thinking about how tall tetsu is ><
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hyunebunx · 4 months ago
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⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 ⏖ ' late night moments with skz !
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⁺ 𖹭 . genre: this is just sleepy fluff <3 some of the boys get kind of emotional.
⁺ 𖹭 . a/n: happy binnie day!! <3 to this day, these are some of my favorite hcs i've ever written so i hope you enjoy! (early morning moments with them right here <3)
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𝜗୧ chan 𝜗୧ - 2:34 am
“Do you think Berry misses me sometimes?” He mumbles into your lap, voice full of sleep as you gently massage his scalp. Looking down at him, your eyes soften when he hugs your middle and hides his face in your stomach which prompts your other hand to begin tracing his features softly.
“Of course, she does, baby.” Chan almost purrs in response and your heart melts at the sight, managing to contain the sudden urge to squish his cheeks together. “Remember how excited she was the last time you visited? She was jumping, running around you and never left your side the whole time you were there.”
A moment passes and then two with no response from your boyfriend and that’s when you realize, by his even breathing, that he finally fell asleep.
You smile and lean down to plant a sweet kiss on his forehead, whispering a sincere I love you in his ear, not stopping your massage.
Sleeps like this, in your lap, until you’re sure he’s asleep for good before you slowly move him into a more comfortable position and wrap his whole body in a blanket burrito.
𝜗୧ minho 𝜗୧ - 11:59 pm
“Hug me, I’m cold!”
You hear him groan before he turns over to face you, grumbling under his breath as he envelopes your body in a big hug and begins to squeeze the life out of you. All out of love, of course.
“Better now?” “Minho, I can’t breathe!”
Doesn’t let go but does tilt your head up to look into your eyes and the love you see as you stare back almost has you in tears. A sleepy smile makes its way onto his lips and that’s when you manage to loosen his grip by wiggling into his arms, wasting no time as you begin to plant open-mouthed kisses all over his face.
His smile widens until giggles escape him, loving the way your lips feel on his skin as he lets you do whatever you want until you’re satisfied. When you finally reach his lips but don’t linger for as long as he’d like, instead kissing them repeatedly while also giggling, he takes matters into his own hands and kisses you deeply while still keeping the initial softness of your previous ones.
𝜗୧ changbin 𝜗୧ - 3:47 am
You toss and turn in the sheets for what feels like the millionth time before finally giving up with a frustrated sigh. “Binnie, I can’t sleep.”
“Me neither.” The response comes instantly and you sit up on your elbows to find him staring at the ceiling, visibly exhausted. You frown, scooting closer to hug him by the middle and rest your chin on his chest.
“Everything okay?”
Your soft voice prompts him to let it all out, to rant about work and his daily struggles at a fast pace that you can barely keep up with. When his voice quivers, you look up and plant comforting kisses on his neck and jaw, one hand gently massaging his chest through his nightshirt.
When he’s done and his speech slows down, Changbin moves to hide his face in your hair, muscular arms wrapping around your body to bring you closer, almost like he wanted to morph your bodies together. Being one with the love of your life sounded great right now – to be able to take all of his pain and discomfort so that he’ll always be happy and healthy was something you dreamt about often. Unfortunately, until that was possible, you hoped from the bottom of your heart that what you’re able to do right now is enough.
𝜗୧ hyunjin 𝜗୧ - 1:08 am
“Forget worms, would you still love me if I was a deadly shark?”
Hyunjin looks up from his phone, flabbergasted, just to find you already looking at him. He’s silent, waiting for you to elaborate but when you don’t, he sighs and gives in. “Darling, what the hell are you talking about?”
You roll your eyes, cuddling closer as you place your head in the crock of his neck to inhale his comforting scent. His arms pull you closer instantly, phone long forgotten. “This hypothetical situation, Jinnie, is critical for our relationship. Please take it seriously.”
Is confused the whole time as you ramble on and on about your ‘hypothetical situation’ that at some point, having had enough, he just turns his back to you and gets comfortable on his other side.
When you follow him and throw a leg over his body, continuing on while drawing patterns onto his back, he swiftly turns around to hover over you, pinning you to the mattress. Your eyes meet and for a second, you think he’s going to kiss you until your dream is shattered as he begins tickling you mercilessly instead. A tickle war starts that leaves you both breathless and laughing well into the night.
𝜗୧ jisung 𝜗୧ - 1:56 am
“When you’re away and I miss you, I spray this pillow with your cologne and cuddle it as I would cuddle you.”
Jisung’s eyes widen slightly as you speak against his lips, the lingering sadness in your tone pulling at his heartstrings in an unpleasant way. You’re face to face, staring lovingly at each other while talking in hushed voices about everything that comes to mind.
He knows that at this time during the night, he gets all soft and mushy but he wasn’t expecting to cry this soon. You were so good to him, his own angel on earth that would wait for him for as long as it was needed. You deserved so much better.
Gently cupping your cheek, you lean into his touch and close your eyes in contentment, and he bites his tongue to stop himself from crying. “I’m sorry, baby.”
His voice is shaky so without a word, you cuddle closer, burying your head in his chest and holding him tighter while also kissing his covered chest. “Sorry? Sorry for what? Don’t be silly, Ji. Your love makes all this waiting around worth it every single time.”
𝜗୧ felix 𝜗୧ - 4:02 am
“Wait, what? She said that to you?” Felix asks, voice loud in disbelief as the hand that was combing through your hair stops momentarily.
You nod, looking up at him from where you’re resting your head, on his abs, the bare skin warm and soft under your touch. “Yes! I have receipts, hold on.”
As you scramble out of bed to get your phone from where it's charging, Felix can’t help but smile as his eyes are completely focused on you and nothing else. He always thought you were the most beautiful like this – bare-faced, with your hair slightly messy and missing that furrow between your brows that appeared during the day.
Vulnerable and oh-so cuddly during the late hours of the night, and early hours of the morning you sometimes spent with him, talking, kissing and laughing until the sun rose again to announce another new day.
When you came back to bed, Felix was resting with his back against the headboard and the position allowed him to pull you flush against his chest, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind as you showed him your phone. It was the domesticity he always craved for which he hoped would never end. That you and him like this never ended.
𝜗୧ seungmin 𝜗୧ - 12:32 am
Taking another peek at the bedside clock, you can’t help but sigh as the red digits glare at you, almost mockingly. You’ve been in bed for hours now and you’re still as awake as you were back then too. It was infuriating, and you were this close to actually crying in frustration.
Almost as if sensing your low mood, Seungmin turns on his side to face you. “Everything okay?”
You shake your head and bury your head in the warm pillow. “I can’t sleep, Minnie. Will you sing to me, please?”
His arms come around you to bring your back to his chest, successfully luring you into being the little spoon, which to be honest, you didn’t mind one bit right now. He places a kiss on your cheek, and with one hand softly massaging your hip, he starts humming. Not a lullaby, but one of the group’s title tracks.
When you glare at him over your shoulder, he grins and stifles a chuckle before starting to sing a proper lullaby. Just as suspected – his dreamy voice does have magical powers and you’re asleep in less than five minutes. Or maybe it's the way he holds you so closely and the occasional kiss on the top of your head that does the trick. Either way, you have to let Felix know asap. He owes you 20$.
𝜗୧ jeongin 𝜗୧ - 11:45 pm
“Blanket thief.” He complains, however, there’s no real malice in his tone as you roll around into a blanket burrito and leave him completely exposed to all the monsters that come out at night, laughing loudly.
You don’t see him, but he rolls his eyes, trying to appear annoyed as he hides his growing smile. “Come here, baby, let’s share.”
When you shake your head no, still giggling in your pillow, Jeongin takes matters into his own hands, literally, and lifts you up by the waist to trap you into his tight embrace, which causes you to shriek and laugh again. He soon joins in and your laughter fills the tiny room as you begin wrestling for the blanket.
“Come on, be reasonable, there’s enough blanket for the both of us.” “No.” “Y/n.” “But Jeongin, the monsters – “ ,“I’ll beat them up! Now, come here!”
Somehow, he manages to convince you to share and you fall asleep cuddling while watching youtube videos, with his soft voice whispering sweet nothings into your ear. But during the night, he still ends up uncovered and because he’s petty, he pretends to fall out of bed and says that the monsters got to him because of you and your selfish nature he can’t help but still love so much!
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flwrstqr · 24 days ago
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✶ ENHYPEN WHEN THEY KISS YOUR POUTY LIPS
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PREC𝓲S ✦ enha x f!reader warnings skinship, petnames && 1090wc 𓈃 ♡ fluff, head canons, one shot ─── ˖ 𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐕𝐄 ୨୧
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𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆 (이희승)
heeseung chuckles as he catches you pouting, crossing his arms and leaning in close with a playful grin. "what's got my baby all pouty, hm?" he teases, his fingers brushing under your chin, guiding you to look up at him. you try to hold onto the pout, but it's hard when he's this close, his warm gaze softening as he scans your face. "c'mere," he murmurs, closing the distance and pressing a soft kiss to your lips. his hand rests on your waist, pulling you closer, and when he pulls back, he grins at the dazed look on your face. "better?" he whispers, thumb grazing your cheek. you just nod, cheeks heating up as he plants one more quick kiss. "good, ‘cause i hate seeing my pretty girl pout like that."
𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐉𝐀𝐘 (박종성)
“what’s with the pout, baby?” jay teases, his voice soft as he tilts your chin up, thumb tracing over your cheek. you grumble, crossing your arms, “you didn’t tell me you’d be out so late.” he chuckles, pulling you closer, wrapping his arms around your waist. “sorry, sweetheart,” he murmurs, leaning down until his lips brush yours, “how can i make it up to you?” your pout fades just a little as his eyes flick down to your lips, and before you can reply, he closes the gap, his mouth warm and gentle against yours. he pulls back with a playful grin, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear, “there we go. no more pouting, okay?”
𝐒𝐈𝐌 𝐉𝐀𝐊𝐄 (심재윤)
"c’mon, don’t pout, baby,” jake murmurs, a teasing grin tugging at his lips as he cups your face, his thumbs gently tracing your cheeks. you try to look away, but he tilts your chin back up to meet his gaze, eyes sparkling with playful mischief. “it’s not fair when you’re this cute, you know that?” he says, leaning in closer, his breath warm against your skin. before you can protest, his lips press against yours, soft and lingering, leaving you slightly breathless. he pulls back just a little. “i’d kiss that pout away all day if you’d let me," he whispers, his smile widening as he pecks you again. "or maybe... you'd like that a bit too much, huh?"
𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐍 (박성훈)
"are you mad at me, sweetheart?" sunghoon asks softly, his brows drawing together as he studies your pout, worry flickering in his eyes. he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, hesitating, his hand lingering on your cheek. "i didn’t mean to upset you," he mumbles, his voice barely a whisper as he glances down, clearly overthinking. “maybe i should’ve texted back sooner... or—was it something i said?” he rambles, his thumb brushing lightly over your skin. you can’t help but smile at his nervousness, your pout easing. finally, you lean forward, closing the distance as his lips meet yours, soft and gentle, his breath catching in surprise. when he pulls back. “i... guess that’s one way to forgive me,” he murmurs, a small smile forming. “but... maybe you should pout more often, just so i can do that.”
𝐊𝐈𝐌 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐎𝐎 (김선우)
“a pout?” sunoo chuckles softly, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip as he tilts your chin up to look at him. you try to turn away, still sulking, but he only leans in closer, eyes sparkling with that familiar, playful warmth. “come on, don’t hide from me,” he whispers, his voice gentle, coaxing. “let me fix it, hm?” before you can protest, his lips are on yours. his hand cups your cheek, thumb tracing gentle circles as he pulls back just enough to smile down at you. “there,” he murmurs, forehead resting against yours, “much better. you look way cuter when you’re smiling.”
𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐉𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐖𝐎𝐍 (양정원)
“what’s with the pout, angel?” jungwon’s voice is soft but teasing as he notices the little frown tugging at your lips. before you can even answer, he leans in without a second thought, capturing your pout in a sweet kiss. his hand finds your waist, pulling you a bit closer as his lips melt against yours, like he’s done this a hundred times before. when he finally pulls back, he’s grinning, his eyes sparkling as he tilts his head, admiring your flustered expression. “there we go,” he murmurs, brushing a thumb over your cheek, “i like you much better without that pout.” you open your mouth to protest, but he just chuckles, leaning in to press another quick kiss to your lips. “no more pouting, okay?”
𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐌𝐔𝐑𝐀 𝐑𝐈𝐊𝐈 (西村力)
“aww, is someone pouting?” riki’s voice is filled with amusement as he leans in close, a mischievous grin playing on his lips. you try to look away, but he gently tilts your chin back, his eyes twinkling with that all-too-familiar teasing spark. “what, you want me to fix it?” he laughs softly, tilting his head as if he’s considering it. “maybe a kiss would help…” he trails off, his face just inches from yours, clearly enjoying your flustered reaction. without waiting, he swoops in, pressing a quick, playful kiss to your pouty lips, then pulls back with a smirk. “there. feeling better now, pouty?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.
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emphistic · 4 months ago
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Lovers' Quarrel
"Are still fighting?" asked Sukuna, whilst you curled into his side, seeking his warmth as you two angrily laid in bed together.
You quipped, "Naturally so, yes," before closing your eyes.
Earlier this evening, the two of you had had a petty fight over something trivial and stupid, but neither of you had enough morals to admit how ridiculous the matter was; and so, the argument never concluded. As silly as it sounds, most of your disputes with Sukuna went this way. He was a man with an ego that went through the roof, and you had enough stubbornness to be called his equal.
"Are we still fighting?" asked Sukuna the next morning, whilst watching you cook breakfast for the both of you. He wrapped his arms around you from behind, and pressed a kiss to your temple before resting his chin on your head.
You rolled your eyes, "Of course," but you didn't push him off. Sukuna was always a handsy guy, clingy, even; and that didn't change even when you two were fighting. Sukuna was still attached to your hip 24/7, always following you around the apartment as you watched TV, lounged in bed, or took a bath. He was basically your second shadow, whether you liked it or not.
"Are we still fighting?" asked Sukuna, as you sat between his legs in the bathtub, leaning your back against his chest.
You crossed your arms over your torso, "What do you think? You haven't apologized yet."
Sukuna pinched the space between his brows. "Okay, I'm sorry, but, babe, you do realize you're in the wrong, too, right? It was my fault just as much as it was yours.
"It's not just me, y'know," concluded Sukuna, as he placed a kiss on your ear, before trailing his lips from your cheekbone to your jaw and then finally tilting your head ever so slightly so he could plant a kiss on your lips.
You relaxed in his hold, melting under his gaze as you kissed back almost immediately. "Mmm."
After a few pecks and kisses, Sukuna pulled back, earning a whine from you. He rubbed your bottom lip with his thumb, murmuring, "Your turn," so quietly that you almost missed it.
"What? Turn for what?"
"It's your turn to apologize," stated Sukuna, as he stared at you as if that was the most obvious thing in the world.
You turned around fully, so that you were facing Sukuna whilst sitting in his lap. The water in the tub sloshed around at your sudden movement. "Apologize? Really?—What happened yesterday was not my fault, Sukuna."
"Oh yeah? Then, I guess we'll need to do some more reflecting, so we can jog your memory." Sukuna littered kisses against your collarbone before he dipped down to lick a stripe up your clavicle, earning an audible gasp from your lips.
"Reflecting, you say? Tell me, Sukuna, what does this reflecting entail, exactly?"
"Mm, I don't think I can say it aloud," Sukuna said, a boyish grin on his lips. "You'll just have to wait and see, babe."
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deusfoundry · 12 days ago
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popstar!reader has actor!sylus completely wrapped around her pretty little finger.
so when you ask him to co-star in the music video of your album's single, slinking up to his bed one night dressed in one of his hoodies that makes you look like you're drowning in the thick fabric with those wide eyes and charming smile that turns him to putty in your hands, he happily complies. without so much as a question of what exactly he has to do, sylus nods and lets you thank him with a kiss.
you want him to act? he can do that. it's a craft that he lives and breathes, so it should be easy enough, right?
he arrives on set with you in tow, but you're quickly pulled into different dressing rooms by the stylists. he's handed a prisoner's uniform, slipping the costume on before sitting down and letting one of the make-up artists do their work, painting bruises on his face to make him look as scuffed as possible.
you've briefed him on the way here about his role. he's supposed to play a criminal, the gun-donning, bank-robbing, getting-into-fights-with-shady-men kind who's constantly in and out of prison. and you're his less than willing accomplice who begs him to stop fucking up.
with the few minutes he has before you two are called to start filming, he seeks you out in your dressing room. he knocks on the door, twisting the knob as he hears your sweet voice say "come in." inside, he finds that there's no one else in the room but you. you, and your blue, velvet mini dress that ends right around the middle of your thigh. there's a small sliver of skin that seems to tease him, while the rest of your legs are covered in black stockings.
sitting cross-legged on your chair, you greet him with nothing more than a smile and quiet "hey."
"well what do we have here?" sylus stalks towards you, footsteps slow and steady. "aren't you a pretty kitten?"
he plants both of his hands on either side of your chair, trapping you in place like a predator hunting his prey. his eyes travel down your body. he soaks it all in, one of his hands moving to caress your waist. there's a mischievous glint that flashes through your eyes when he takes your chin in his hand, urging you to look at him. the ghost of a smirk rests on your lips.
you're hiding something, might even be planning his demise as you're sitting pretty beneath him, but he doesn't care. not enough to stop himself from kissing you, at least.
he captures your lips in his, pulling you impossibly closer to him to deepen the kiss. you gasp when he gently yanks you up off your chair, turning you around and lifting you up so that you're sitting on the vanity of your dressing room. he wraps a strong arm around your waist. sylus' lips remain unrelenting as his hand begins to you fiddle with the lace of your stockings, fingers travelling up and slipping underneath the fabric of your dress.
sylus toys with your inner thigh for a while, squeezing and pinching at the flesh. when you whine a complaint against his lips, he does nothing to fight his low laugh.
he's about to grab the edges of your dress and pull the fabric up to your waist when-
"y/n? the director's looking for you. we're about to start filming."
you pry yourself away from his lips. sylus nearly whines. "hold on a sec! i'll meet you there."
in an instant, your whole demeanor shifts. gone was the blissful look on your face as you fix your hair. sylus is frozen, stunned. and as if he wasn't weirded out enough by how you're acting as if you didn't just want him to take you then and there, you give him a slight nudge on the shoulder, a silent plea for him to move aside.
when he doesn't respond- doesn't make a move to let you hop off the desk, you look at him with curiosity. it's accompanied by a hint of innocence as you tilt your head to the side.
"sylus? honey, we have to go."
except, sylus knows you're far from innocent in this scenario.
you minx.
you had this planned all along, letting him inside your dressing room, getting him all riled up, only to leave him high and dry.
and you thought you could get away with it.
how adorable.
sylus leans forward to speak directly to your ear, hot air fanning across sensitive skin. "don't think i'm done with you, sweetie. you should know what happens when pretty girls like you misbehave."
your breath gets caught in your throat as he gives your thigh one last squeeze before assisting you off the desk.
but you've never been one to back down after all. two can play this game, and you still have quite a few tricks up your sleeve.
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hesperisms · 25 days ago
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// Zayne's Hands
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"You've been holding my hand and looking at it for a while now. What have you discovered?"
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// summary: confessing to Zayne that you find his hands impossibly attractive. my personal headcanon for how Zayne's hands became his favorite feature.
// content warnings: 18+ (mdni), fluff, pet names, hand holding, smol angst, dry humping, soft-dom elements (cycle tracking).
// a/n: I am feral for an elegant set of man hands and forearms.
x-posted to AO3 - likes, reblogs, comments are always appreciated!
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It's a wet and dreary Sunday afternoon, the perfect type of day for staying in and doing absolutely nothing. Zayne is lying snuggled on the sofa with you lounging on his broad chest, lazily scrolling a medical journal on his phone with his left hand, you keeping his right hand occupied by intertwining you own fingers with his and tracing his scars with your soft fingertips.
It's nice to spend some quiet time with each other, he thinks to himself, tilting his head down to plant a gentle kiss on your hair, the clean floral scent of your shampoo filling his nose. "You've been holding my hand and looking at it for a while now. What have you discovered?" He asks you, a hint of teasing to his tone. He expected you to give him some kind of mocking amateur palm reading, but he wasn't prepared for the answer you actually gave him.
"Zaynie, has anyone ever told you that your hands and forearms are just...urgh how do I begin to explain this to you?" You blurt out, burying your face in his chest so that you don't have to make eye contact with him while you're blushing furiously. You do a little too-good of a job of hiding yourself, because you notice that he has gone impossibly still and seems to be holding his breath. You hear his heartbeat thumping away under your cheek and come to a horrid realization that you've miscommunicated to him.
His golden-green eyes stare through the top of your hiding head as his breath catches in his throat at your words, one of his deepest insecurities about himself becoming real and running rampant through his mind. You must find his scars unattractive, he thinks to himself sullenly, his heart starting to feel like a sledgehammer in his chest as self-doubts seep in, making him feel cold. He opens his mouth silently, attempting to find the right words as the frigid silence lingers in the air between you when you suddenly look up at him, face beet red and eyes full of fear and lunge towards his face; your lips collide with his and your noses crush together in a painful lock that makes you both wince but you don't for a second slow your pace despite his yelp of protest.
As your mouth crashes against his, you kiss him passionately and sloppily, planting messy kisses all over his lips, his jaw, his chin and his cheeks, mumbling your apologies to him through your occupied lips. "I worded that so poorly handsome...you have the complete wrong idea of what I meant...please don't think I meant anything negative...I actually meant the opposite I just don't think before I open my mouth sometimes" you plead through kisses. He pulls you back from him slightly, breaking your swollen, kiss-flushed lips from his and his eyes gaze into yours curiously as he tucks your hair back behind your ear.
"What did you mean?" he asks in a small, barely there whisper, his lips brushing against yours, eyes searching you for reassurance. "My hands and forearms are what, exactly, my love?"
You huff a deep breath of embarrassment against his lips and stare back at him, reaching up to cradle his cheeks gently in your palms. "I don't know how to put it into words exactly," you begin helplessly, your cheeks flushing redder, "but something I've always found impossibly attractive on a man are graceful but strong forearms and hands...there's something about that combination of elegance and power that just...does something to me I can't describe."
You watch as Zayne's pupils dilate in shock at your confession and he's staring at you with an impossible to read expression, but those ever-expressive deep eyes of his darken slightly as understanding seeps in. "Go on..." he breathes, a raspy whisper.
"I have no doubt you'll tease me for this for a long time to come, but um," you bite your lip and let out a deep breath before the next statement. "I always had graceful arms and hands like yours on my list of features I wanted my future husband to have."
"...I don't suppose this list also happened to have scars on it?"
How small and soft his voice came out broke your heart. You stared back into his eyes, tears pricking the edges of your waterline that you gave him any reason to doubt how attracted you were to him, even accidentally. "It does now," you say lovingly, stroking your thumb across his cheekbone, smiling at him gently as he nuzzles into your touch. "It got revised when I fell in love with you and decided I wanted to spend my life with you."
You pull yourself up, sitting on his hips straddling his lap and lift your dress up over your head slowly, dropping it onto the floor beside the sofa. Zayne tosses his phone at the coffee table and settles his hands on your thighs, thumbs moving in slow gentle circles as he stares up at you, admiring your body. "What's behind this, y/n?" he asks, a slight smile starting to form in his eyes and you know you've got him back where he should be, in the headspace he belongs in.
"I figured as a man of science you might prefer a practical demonstration of how your scars have no impact on my enjoyment of your hands..." you purr seductively at him, rolling your hips down against his and grinning with pride as you feel him start to swell in response. Zayne rewards you by letting his hands start to roam over your body, trailing delicately up your ribcage to your bra; he squeezes a firm handful of your breast through the lace, rolling his knuckle across your hardening nipple to elicit a gasp from you. His other hand holds your hip firmly, thumb rubbing against the lace edge of your panties as his brow furrows.
Zayne clears his throat. "I forgot to pick up condoms on the way home this morning," he coughs apologetically. You open your mouth to protest, but he squeezes your hip firmly, his strong hands digging into the soft flesh of your thigh. "If my cycle tracking is accurate, you're ovulating so that's out of the question" he counters, knowing that you were about to tell him he didn't really need one, not with you.
"Fine," you huff, grinding yourself down on the seam of his jeans, using the pressure of his growing erection to build friction in the lace of the panties you're starting to soak through. "You owe me a man-handling mister," you grumble with an exaggerated pout.
He laughs in a sinful little chuckle and pinches your nipple through the lace of your bra, clicking his tongue in a playful, reprimanding tone. "Behave, I didn't sacrifice a social life at medical school for all those years to be Mister Li, thank you very much..."
Your trump card is played.
"Sorry...Sir."
Your pulse quickens with desire and satisfaction as you feel Zayne get harder between your thighs and you see his pupils dilate further at the honorific. He'll never admit it to you that it has such an effect on him, but you caught the effect of calling him sir once and now you keep it in your back pocket for times when you really want to drive him wild. You got the exact response you were hoping for by playing it, because he slides his hand across from your hip and starts rubbing your sensitive swollen clit through the wet lace of your panties; his large strong thumb applying pressure and rubbing tight circles.
A soft sigh escapes your lips as you grind down on his erection in his jeans and press yourself against his thumb, rocking your hips to ease the ache forming between your thighs, an ache you know for now he won't let you quench. Sliding your hands down, you clasp his tightly, fingers intertwining with him, holding his hands and use it as leverage to start grinding yourself with intent against his ever-tightening jeans.
Zayne lets out a little moan as you ride him, squeezing his hands tightly in yours and his ears start to flush red as he feels your slick wetness start to leak from the sopping wet lace of your panties onto his jeans, darkening the black denim over his erection as your juices spread. He ruts his hips upwards, increasing the friction you both feel through the denim and lace and he knows his cock is leaking precum into his boxer briefs, feeling it ooze down his shaft to pool into his pubic hair.
Your whimpers and moans become needier above him and he knows from the way your hips start to hitch and your thighs tremble that you're close to an orgasm; he lifts interlocked fingers out over his head, forcing you down to kiss him, bucking his hips up into you and moaning against your warm wet lips, tongue dancing across yours in teasing flickers, just like it would if it were dancing across your swollen little bud. You realize exactly what he's doing with his tongue and you cry out in torment, but it's swallowed by his lips and his tongue as he groans back at you.
Feeling your heat coil and snap, you start to come undone, throbbing clit making your soaked walls grasp at nothing as your orgasm roils through your hips, his kisses suffocating the loud moaning of his name out of your lips as soon as they're voiced and then he's joining you; tensing underneath you, hips bucking in a stutter as he clenches his eyes shut pressing his forehead against yours, his whimpering breath hot on your lips.
"Assessment complete, Doc-tor?" he pants teasingly, nuzzling his nose into your ear and kissing at your earlobe.
"You should really read the hospital's code of conduct."
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gibberishfangirl · 5 months ago
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Omg I love love loooovvee your wind breaker hcs! Could you do girlfriend reader leaving lipstick kisses on the boys? 😘💋
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WINDBREAKER | love marks
Characters ✰ Haruka Sakura, Hajime Umemiya, Hayato Suo, Akihiko Nirei, Kaji Ren, Toma Hiragi, Jo Togame
Contains ✰ indirectly getting caught, teasing, reader did it on purpose in some scenarios, content of the boys getting confronted by their friends
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Haruka Sakura ᡣ𐭩
❤︎ unfortunately Sakura failed to realize the stain your nude pink-ish colored lipstick left on the corner of his lip before leaving to meet his friends
❤︎ “oh my Sakura~ i do wonder what you were doing before getting here” Suo immediately teased with a charming smile
❤︎ Sakura looked at Suo and his friends suspiciously as they were all grinning ear to ear at him. the man hated being put on the spot which is something they were painfully aware of
❤︎ Nirei was the first one to crack while letting out a nervous laugh and saying “Sakura you got a little something here.” while pointing at his lips
❤︎ Sakura bolted out of his seat to run into the restroom as his friends all laughed at his sudden movement
❤︎ his face had a furious blush scattered across his cheeks as he spotted the mark on his lips
❤︎ he roughly scrubbed off the make up for about five minutes with water and a paper towel. jeez— who knew removing make up can be so hard?
❤︎ he yanked his phone out of his pocket to send you a message only to find that you already texted him one of your own
❤︎ your message read: hope you enjoyed your little surprised Haru <3
❤︎ why you little—
Hajime Umemiya ᡣ𐭩
❤︎ Umemiya was a different case, this man was so shameless it was actually hard to make him be embarrassed of anything
❤︎ so when Hiragi finally told him about the pink kiss stain on his cheek he didn’t have much of a reaction and continued the meeting as if he didn’t receive such information
❤︎ it was only after the meeting that he decided to wipe off the stain with the palm of his hand
❤︎ update: it didn’t work, he simply just smeared it around with that motion instead of it actually working
❤︎ he didn’t bother to remove it after that, he simply just shrugged and chuckled with a “i guess that’s that.” while Hiragi facepalmed
❤︎ since he couldn’t get it off the first time he just walked around the whole day with the smeared kiss mark on his cheek
❤︎ no one else really dared to point it out so he nearly forgot about it until he had seen you again and you let out a gasp
❤︎ it was safe to say that you were more embarrassed than he was as you began to apologize profusely
❤︎ “i’m so sorry Ume!! i didn’t see that on you before i left!” “it’s okay, i barely even noticed it.” is the only thing he’d say in response before leaning in for another kiss
❤︎ he never really learns, does he?
Hayato Suo ᡣ𐭩
❤︎ Suo was so suave and calm most of the time that it was hard to even imagine that he’d miss something like this
❤︎ you thought about all the ways you could catch him off guard just to see him not be able to smoothly charm his way out of things
❤︎ that’s when the idea came to you; to plant a kiss mark without him noticing. you did it while you hugged him goodbye so the mark landed on his jawline
❤︎ surprisingly enough no one actually realized he had the mark or even caught onto it. not even Nirei saw it despite standing the closest to him the whole day
❤︎ Suo eventually saw it once he saw himself in the mirror at the end of the day. you had left the mark around 8am just for him to barely notice it at 10pm—
❤︎ he almost missed it but then once he tilted his chin higher the mark became more visible
❤︎ he simply shrugged and snapped a photo of it to send it to you as he assumed it was an accident
❤︎ “hey love, i think you accidentally marked me XD” “YOU JUST REALIZED THAT?” “what you mean ‘just’? O.O” “nvm”
❤︎ he took another look at the mark and reconsidered the possibility of it being an accident. the only words he mumbled out was “how sneaky” before a small smile caught his lips
❤︎ he’ll definitely remember this as he plans to get you back another day
Akihiko Nirei ᡣ𐭩
❤︎ Nirei spends a lot of the time looking at himself in the mirror so he notices it pretty fast in comparison to all the other boys
❤︎ it’s hard to catch the man lacking when he spends a lot of the time looking at his outfits for hours. of course he notices every small detail about himself
❤︎ he was glad he caught it in time he most likely would’ve became a stammering mess if any of his friends had been the one to point it out
❤︎ at least he was glad until he realized he couldn’t get the product off
❤︎ he scrubbed and scrubbed but the make up was super strong. it wasn’t coming off even to save his life
❤︎ he unrelectuntaty had to go meet Sakura and Suo with the mark smeared around his lips
❤︎ Sakura noticed it immediately and asked “did you bust your lip??? who did that to you?” already getting ready to find whoever hurt his friend
❤︎ Sakura was a dimwit when it came to these things so he didn’t realize what it was and automatically assumed it was a busted lip
❤︎ Suo let out a sigh and chuckle to Sakura’s reaction since unlike him, Suo was fully aware of what it actually was
❤︎ despite knowing what it was Suo didn’t expose Nirei in the moment and left Sakura in the dark. however, that didn’t mean Nirei was safe. Suo was definitely going to bring this up again some other time
Kaji Ren ᡣ𐭩
❤︎ Ren was always careful about how his appearance looked like. not that he actually cared but mainly because he didn’t need anyone else catching onto what activities he may have been participating in with you
❤︎ he typically made sure he didn’t look disheveled before heading out but today was different since he was in a rush to get to a meeting
❤︎ he had gotten so carried away in his heated make out session with you that he didn’t have enough time to pamper himself and needed to run out the door
❤︎ his hair was a slight mess which he was able to easily fix with his hands as he smoothed out the mess before seeing Hiragi
❤︎ Hiragi quirked an eyebrow up while letting out the smallest smirk. it was so fast Ren almost missed it. keyword: almost.
❤︎ “what’s that face for?” Ren immediately put up a defensive tone. “nothing, just seems like you been having a lot of fun.” Hiragi teased before yanking on Ren’s collar to expose the red mark on it
❤︎ Ren’s face slightly dropped before pulling himself back together. he shoved the collar of his shirt into his hoodie trying to hide it while mumbling the quickest lie he could think of.
❤︎ “i got into a fight before getting here… must be some old blood” “oh yeah, it must be in that case.” Hiragi sarcastically responded sparing his friend the embarrassment
Toma Hiragi ᡣ𐭩
❤︎ his whole group of underclassmen were on his ass as soon as they all spotted the mark on his neck
❤︎ he cursed the day he was born before taking some medication for all the headaches they were giving him that day
❤︎ “tsk. kids. you wouldn’t understand, none of you can even get a partner if you tried.” is the he only thing he would tell them if they continued to pry into getting him to say how he got the mark
❤︎ of course that response gathered an uproar from the kiddos as they took the insult to the heart. some hurt because they knew it was true with their lack of flirting skills
❤︎ the teasing got so bad even Umemiya had to tell them to back off after some time, knowing how stressed and overwhelmed Hiragi can get
❤︎ definitely not one of his most finest days but didn’t dread on it for long since things happen
❤︎ you were very apologetic once you heard about the day he had from others
❤︎ “i’m so sorry Toma!” you’d embrace him in a hug while nonstop apologizing
❤︎ unfortunately for you, your boyfriend could be quite a tease at times so a smirk made its way up to his lips before saying “it’s okay, maybe you can make it up to me by leaving me another?”
Jo Togame ᡣ𐭩
❤︎ it took Togame the longest to realize the kiss stain on his shirt out of all the boys
❤︎ due to his previous reputation, no one knew whether or not they should point it out. they weren’t too fond of the idea of getting beat up by the giant man so no one told him anything
❤︎ the only one who finally pointed it out was Choji as he asked why Jo had a chocolate stain on his shirt (you had been wearing a brown nude shade of lipstick which is why Choji mistakes it for chocolate)
❤︎ “huh? i didn’t eat chocolate today.” Togame would respond confusedly to his short friend while pulling on his shirt to find the stain
❤︎ “oh, then what is it?” Choji was genuinely intrigued by the conversation now as he wanted a response.
❤︎ Jo’s face turned a small shade of light pink remembering the prior events that occurred earlier that day
❤︎ “…nevermind. it’s chocolate. i just forgot i had some before coming here.” lies
❤︎ despite how bold Togame can be he most definitely did not want to have that talk with his longest friend
❤︎ Choji gave his friend a look that read ‘seriously?’ which Togame decided to ignore. he had bigger things to deal with… like finding you and getting more kisses
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mysicklove · 1 year ago
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cw: sub! megumi, dom! gn! reader, overstimulation, handjobs (as always), dacryphilia, slight sadism in reader, slight masochism in megumi? teasing, "good boy" used once.
wc: 1.3k
a/n: i have been recently hating my writing style guys what do I do </3 also I did this instead of hw so tonight is gonna suck.
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“waitwaitwaitwait!” megumi mumbles into your neck for the third time this night. you feel another round of tears drip onto your collarbone, and shaky hands grip your t-shirt in a plea. he was naked — his pale skin seeming to flush a shade of red, and his spine was curved as he caved in over himself.
your thumb circles around the tip, teasing it until you watch another glob of precum bead at his slit. you crane your neck to look at him, using your free hand to tilt his chin up to press a small kiss to his lips. “doing so good,” you mumble into his mouth, and he lets out a broken sob, “staying still and taking it. we don’t need any rope today.”
his whole body feels to be on fire, and with every stroke of your hand, a whole new wave of overstimulation forces another shiver. the boy's mouth hangs open, lip glistening from a mix of saliva from your mouth and tears. “you’re so mean to me."
“poor thing,” you coo, knowing that you aren't going to do anything about his complaint. instead, you use your thumb to brush away some tears. he sniffles at you, nodding his head to hopefully coax some more praise. but your mind travels back to your movements, your wrists twisting back and forth as you focus on the red tip. “but you look so cute like this, i can’t help it, y’know that.”
his head falls back onto your shoulder, and immediately, he plants kisses on your neck, nibbling at the skin to try and distract himself. the top of his dark hair was matted with sweat, but the tips of it tickled your collarbone. you use your thumb to rub at his cheek as you continue to stroke him off, ignoring his sporadic jerks of pain. “can you cum again? just one more time, for me?”
the noise megumi lets out is meek, pathetic even, and he shakes his head into your chest. he has begun to hiccup from the intensity of his sobs, and his hand hasn't moved from gripping fiercely at your shirt. "last one," he breathes, rubbing his nose into your skin, "p-promise its the last one!"
you grab his face again with one hand and begin to pepper it with kisses, successfully wiping away more tears as he whines with shut eyes. his eyelashes are globbed together, and when he opens them again, he narrows them at you, slightly peeved and scared at your lack of response. "promise," he manages to get out before he bites his lip from you rubbing your pointer finger over his slit.
"fine, fine, I promise," you concede, and your hand stops teasing him, instead fully pumping him from base to tip. the act makes his thighs tremble, and you push them slightly more apart to give you easier access. the redness of his cock contrasts his pale skin adorably, and you can't help you're staring as he continues to leak.
"it hurts," he whimpers, mostly to himself, because all he can think about is how overwhelmed he feels. his thoughts are spinning, and even just the slightest touches on other parts of his body seem to startle him due to him focusing his entire attention on trying not to rip your hand off of his cock.
you don't pay attention to the whine, instead just pressing more kisses to his flushed cheeks, nibbling gently at the flesh while he sniffles. but, even with all the complaints and whines he was letting out, you've noticed that his hips have begun to buck back into your hand, only making the lewd noise louder. he tries to pretend that it was you who was torturing him, but his movements were of his own free will.
"you like it now?"
"no!" he says much too quickly, flashing you panicked eyes. "i-i just. 's not my fault!" at this point, you have fully stopped your movements just to watch in admiration of the boy. he was desperate in his movements, and with each thrust of his hips into the makeshift hole a coo leaves your mouth.
"aw, look, now you're getting excited. do you want to cum, megumi?" you purr, brushing his bangs back while twisting your other wrist. his eyes roll back, and his mouth remains open as he lets out quick, short breaths. now, his noises consisted more of moans rather than pained whimpers as he started to chase his high.
"n-no—yes. fuck I-" is all he manages to get out before your mouth is pressed onto his. but he pulls away only five seconds later due to his rapid heartbeat and the need for oxygen to keep up with it. you just chuckle at him and increase your speed, eyes flickering from the sight between his legs and his flushed face.
his thighs begin to squeeze shut, and his moans begin to increase in pitch, a telltale sign that he is teetering near his high. you chuckle at him when he begins to latch onto your neck, planting sloppy kisses to whatever surface he can. "are you close?"
he doesnt even attempt to speak, instead just nodding his head lazily. the act makes you roll your eyes and squeeze just a tad too hard on his dick in warning. he lets out a squeak at the feeling, and this time he does speak up. "yeah. yes. yes. c-close."
you pet his head, satisfied with his answer. "good boy. you can cum, alright?"
another set of tears pools in his eyes, and this time you cock your head to the side. "why are you crying 'gumi? I didn't hurt you that bad, did I?"
"no," he sniffles, "sorry d-dont stop. feels good, don't know why I'm crying. just don't stop!"
"relax. relax. I'm not," you reassure, kissing his face again. "you're lucky you are so cute, with all your demands."
he ignores you like he usually does when you tease him, but you are unsure if it is because he is being his usual self or because he is lost in pleasure.
seconds later, his hands grab at your shoulder, and he goes silent for a breath. then, just as the first rope shoots out, he cries, "cuming! of fuck. fuck!"
your lover's entire body quivers, and his mouth latches into your skin as the first wave washes over him. his eyes roll back and his mouth falls open with a silent scream. more tears come tumbling down his face, and you watch as the most pathetic amount of cum tonight comes dribbling out. it slides down his flushed cock and mixes with the movements of your hands.
eventually, when he comes down from his high and feels the stinging lick of overstimulation once again, he immediately forces your hand off, pinning the white-stained limb to the ground with frantic eyes. then he turns to you, even with his body jerking every couple of seconds from the aftershock, and glares at you — it doesn't hold much effect, considering his cheeks were flushed red and eyelashes were wet with tears, but it was cute nonetheless. "no. more."
you grin at the demand and use your clean hand to ruffle his hair. "your wish is my command, princess."
he narrows his eyes at the nickname, and the man tears himself from your arms. "I am going to shower," he mumbles before using all of his strength to stand up. he takes a step forward, and immediately he comes tumbling down.
megumi pretends he doesn't see the way his legs are trembling, but you see the way his ear twinged red in humiliation. you, of course, use it to your advantage. "need a little help there, Bambi?"
"you're not allowed to touch me for a week," he grumbles but grabs onto your arm and lets himself be left to the bathroom. it was an empty threat, as they usually are.
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boyfhee · 5 months ago
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﹙𝓲ssue﹚ㅤ:ㅤclingy boyfriendsㅤ...ㅤ( 엔하이픈 )
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ㅤㅤ﹙2189﹚ ㅤ장르 fluff fluff fluff, est. relㅤㅤwarnings a few kisses and pecksㅤㅤᐢᗜᐢ had sm fun writing this bc i love cuddles. happy reading ^^ please rb and give feedback, it helps a lot ^_^ iNDEX requested
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HEESEUNG
“hee, i need to go,” you whine, trying to get out of his arms but his grip only gets tighter around you as he keeps holding you against him, laying on top of you. he has always been clingy, but he’s especially clingier today— been holding you for the past thirty minutes and refusing to let go. 
you like this— on contrary to your words. it’s nice when he’s being this cute and clingy. you feel him press a few tender kisses on the base of your neck, something that always makes your heartbeat faster.
“i see,” is all he says, propping his chin up on your chest, pretending to think as he looks up at you. you mouth a quiet ‘please’ and he chuckles, burying his face in your chest again. “no,” 
and you groan again while he continues to hold onto you stubbornly. he holds you even closer when you try to resist, a sigh falling off your lips as you seem to give up. “lunch is not going to make itself,”
“lunch can wait,” the words are muffled against your chest but you can hear him smiling. it’s only a few seconds until he looks up at you, stealing a quick peck before shooting you a grin. “let me hold you for a little longer, darling,”
JONGSEONG
he said it would be just a few kisses but it has been quite a while since you’ve been on jay’s lap, and his arms only seem to wrap tighter around you. you lift your head up from his shoulder, looking at him with a slight pout. “how long are you going to keep this up?”
“dunno, sweetheart,” he whispers against your lips, tilting his head to the other side to go in for a few feathery kisses on your cheeks and lips before looking at you longingly. “can’t seem to get enough of your lips today,”
and the club room is not the most ideal place to kiss since a student— or worse, a teacher— could walk in anytime. usually he’s the responsible one, making sure you two don’t get caught during your sneaky kisses and meetups between classes. however today, his mind is far away from thinking about anyone else but you.
“your new chapstick—” he speaks between the kisses, fingers drawing soft circles on your back as he pulls you closer. “is it cherry?”
you nod, one hand on his chest while the other on the back of his neck. “yep, i got it yesterday,”
“forgive me for taking up a little more of your time,” he chuckles, leaning in and capturing your lips in another kiss. he kisses you for longer this time, a bit slower, savouring the taste of your chapstick and the feeling of your lips moving against his. he pulls away reluctantly and lowly chuckles under his breath. “gosh, i can never get enough of you.”
JAEYUN
“sorry for being too clingy, angel,” he whispers, nuzzling his face deeper into the crook of your neck as his arms tighten around your waist, pulling you closer. “you’re so warm, it’s nice,”
“you’re always like this,” you giggle, reaching out to brush his hair with your fingers. it’s always nice to have him spooning you as if no worries exist and it’s just you, him and your bed in this entire world.
you feel his lips trailing over the back of your neck down to your shoulders, planting soft and tender kisses in their wake. it doesn’t take you much to melt in his embrace— just a few kisses with his arms around you usually do the job.
“i hope you don’t mind it,” he says with a quiet laugh, turning you slightly towards him to look at your face. “you’re my sweetheart, the love of my life. i can barely spend an hour without you,”
and all you do is laugh at his words, a sound so melodious that it makes his smile grow wider. jake shifts a little, propping himself on his elbow before leaning in and smothering your face in kisses and whispering sweet nothings in between, his heart fluttering at the sound of your giggles. 
“watching you being clingy is my favourite thing in the world,” you manage to speak between his endless kisses and pecks, cupping his cheeks tenderly. 
the smile never leaves his lips, only growing wider as he presses his lips against your cheeks and gives you a few pecks before his lips are back onto yours. “you are my favourite thing in this world,”
SUNGHOON
“don’t you dare move,” you freeze at his words, surprise evident on your face. he doesn’t give you a chance to speak, pulling you closer with your back pressing up against his chest. “you’re not going anywhere,”
it’s new, almost rare for sunghoon to be this clingy. usually, he prefers you sitting next to him, arms linked or fingers intertwined, your head on his chest with his head on yours, kissing it every few seconds. but this— his arms basically engulfing you from behind and making it hard for you to focus on the movie with the way his chin rests on your shoulder, breath tickling against your neck— is usual, and you like it. 
“let me go get more popcorn,” you stifle your laugh, gazing at him from the corner of your eyes. you try your best to sound convincing, even though his arms only wrap tighter around you. “i’ll be back in a minute,”
“i said, no,” he tries to sound firm, although you chuckle at how cute he sounds and looks, his lips pressed together, brows furrowed. he catches you looking at him and narrows his eyes at you before shaking his head, kissing your forehead. “you’re not going anywhere until i say so, princess,”
you end up laughing, giving up on your request and relax in his arms, leaning back completely against his chest. “you’re so cute when you’re clingy,”
sunghoon only hums with his face against the crook of your neck. you can feel him leaving a few kisses there before he looks up, kissing the top of your head, whispering softly. “you feel too good in my arms for me to let you go,”
SUNOO
the silence and dim lights in your room almost lull you into sleep, the warm comforter only making the process easier before you hear sunoo whisper in the dead of the night, although not long after you’ve come to bed to sleep. “come closer,”
your stay quiet in your position for a few seconds before shifting closer to your boyfriend, arms slithering around his waist. “you okay?” 
and it’s not really rare for sunoo to ask you to sit or lay close to him. in fact, he would trade anything to cuddle with you and have you all nice and snug against him. although, the fact that he likes his own personal space while sleeping stands false for now, because he pulls you even closer, your body basically pressed up against him completely. 
he nods, burying his face in your hair while his hands trace up and down on your back, his soothing touch making you smile at the sensation. “i just want to hold you,”
your smile only grows wider at his words and you swear your can feel the thumping of your heart that paces as he starts leaving fluttering kisses on your cheeks. “you can hold me as much as you want,”
it only takes him a few seconds before he pulls you even closer, positioning you on top of him and enjoying the way your head rests on his chest. his hand continues to caress your back while the other fixes the comforter over you two. “this is better,”
JUNGWON
“baby,” you hear his voice as soon as he enters through the door, quickly shuffling out of his shoes and making his way to you before wrapping you in his arms. “gosh, i’ve missed you, my love,” 
it’s cute, especially the way he’s almost lifting you off your feet while hugging, having you on your tippy toes. a few seconds in and he’s swaying you left and right, mumbling something against your shoulder that you can’t quite catch. “you’re squeezing me, wonie,”
“can’t help it,” he gives a quick response, lifting his head up slightly to look at you. it’s quiet for a few moments, just him admiring you as if taking in your face and remembering every little detail about it. you smile simply at the lack of words, finding his expression utterly sweet before he continues. “i missed you so so much. so damn much, you have no idea.”
you giggle at his words, poking his nose gently with your index finger, his arms holding you by your waist. “i think i do. those voice messages everyday give me a slight idea,”
he can’t help but laugh sheepishly, looking away briefly. it’s true he spammed you with texts and voice notes, and they were about everything— the weather, what they had for breakfast, the poor joke some member made or the way a cloud looked like you— everything.
“i’m never going on tours again,” he whispers between the quick kisses he plants all over your face, your eyes squinting at the act, something that, according to him, makes you look even more adorable. “too much for my heart,”
NI-KI
riki positions himself on top of you, basically burying you under himself on the couch and engulfing you in his embrace. it’s warm and nice— you can barely breath, trying to wriggle your way out before he mumbles against your shoulders. “stop moving,”
“i can’t breathe, ‘ki,” you manage to muffle out, your arms encircling around his much larger frame. he knows you are going to slip out from under him if he moves, probably laying on top of him— which he loves just as much as this, but laying on top of you is way more fun.
“so spoiled,” he grunts from your neck, although not moving for another few seconds before he shifts slightly and switches to a position where you can breathe properly. “better?”
you huff when he calls you spoiled as if reminding him of the postion you two were in. riki had practically begged for cuddles while you were working on a project, saying he’ll help you with it later. although, you two are more likely to end up sleeping in each other’s arms than getting up to work on the project.
if laying on top of you was not enough, he nuzzles his face even further in your neck as if he isn’t already close enough. you squint your eyes at him, poking his cheeks with your finger. “you are spoiled,” 
“well push me off yourself if you have a problem,” he says with a scoff, raising an eyebrow up at your silence. he wonders if you’re contemplating in silence, but when your arms wrap around him a bit more tightly, making him chuckle as he leans down to press his cheeks against yours. “thought so,”
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sttoru · 1 year ago
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‘i told you once, that only two things will have me; you and death.’
☀︎|tags. gojo satoru x female reader. fluff, angst, comfort. themes of insecurity: trust issues kinda (by reader). reader gets called ‘baby, princess, angel’. self indulgent. proof read? whats that
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“aww, there’s my hardworking girl,” satoru coos whilst his arms move to hold your body captive against his chest in a much needed hug, “and she’s still lookin’ as pretty as ever! my god — c’mere.”
your over-excited lover cups your face in his hands and holds it like that for a second to admire. his thumb slides from your cheekbone to your lips, gently parting them before pressing a deep kiss to your mouth. of course, he doesn’t leave it by that. satoru never does.
“pretty,” a kiss on your right cheek — “beautiful,” a kiss on your left one — “gorgeous,” a kiss on the tip of your nose — “amazing”, a kiss on your forehead — “sweetest,” a kiss on your chin — “lovely”, a kiss on the top of your head;
maybe it was the stress of the previous days that made you tear up. satoru has made it a daily routine: you come home, he welcomes you with open arms, showers you with his unending love and attention until you physically have to pull him away from your body. you sometimes ask yourself what you did to deserve someone so loving.
if satoru had heard you say the latter out loud, he would have kissed your mouth again to shut the thought down instantly. ‘you deserve everything and more’, you silently recall him saying once.
“stop that.” you mutter. the ‘that’ referring to the butterfly kisses and tight hugs he’s giving you. you tried not to seem in the mood for receiving his affection today. the muffled giggles leaving through your gritted teeth tell another story however.
“nu-uh,” satoru lets out a low chuckle, going right back to giving you what you deserve, “it’s like you’re askin’ me to stop breathing, baby. i can’t just not do this.”
satoru lifts you up into his strong arms and brings you over to the kitchen counter, settling you there - somewhere away from all that he had been cooking since the morning. he’s grinning from ear to ear, glancing from the covered plates near the stove and back to you.
you tilt your head curiously as you watch satoru grab one plate and uncover it, revealing the content like it was a big surprise—
“open up f’me, my princess.” your lover hums as he’s already guiding a piece of cake to your lips. your favorite cake which he had oh-so-obviously cooked himself judging by the messy look of it. your gaze lingers on the piece for a second to appreciate the gesture.
when you look back up at satoru, his eyes are already on yours — patiently waiting for you to let him feed you. his blue eyes are sparkling with a sense of pure excitement; one he only has around you. his love for you was almost overwhelming at times like these.
“why?”
the simple, one word question made the white sorcerer stop in his tracks. his head cocks to the side, eyelashes fluttering lightly in confusion, though the handsome smile on his face remains. ‘why’ could mean a lot of things in this context; why do you want to feed me? why do you want me to eat this? why should or even would i?
out of all the possible interpretations, satoru knew the exact one you had meant the moment he saw the tears that welled up at the corners of your eyes; ‘why do you care so much?’
“do i need a reason to?” his voice was smooth and soft. almost way too soft now that he’s realised just how vulnerable you were in front of him. satoru’s smile only widens, however — the sight of his girlfriend being overwhelmed by his affection was one he couldn’t resist.
it’s part of your charm. the charm you don’t know about; the charm that made the gojo satoru fall head over heels for you. your lover shakes his head with a light-hearted laugh, putting the slice of cake back down on the plate so he could hold your hands in his.
“i love you, yeah?” he kisses the back of your hands with utmost care before planting another one on your forehead again. satoru cradles your head against his chest afterwards, making you rest your weary body against his for as long as you needed it; his warmth and comfort, “it’s because i love you. that’s the only reason why, angel.”
you just nod in response — needing a moment of silence to recover, which satoru grants you without it having to be asked verbally. it’s like he knows just what goes on in your little head and is always updated about your changing feelings.
that’s what surprises you most. satoru’s super attentive to every single detail about you. from your unnoticeable habits to the big facts. that is what love truly is. that is how it feels like to have a man love you unconditionally—without any underlying or ulterior motives. without expecting anything back.
“i love you too, ‘toru. forever.” you reply eventually in a hushed whisper. the sorcerer only tightens his grip around your body, hugging you closer to his chest like his personal plushie. he nuzzles his nose into your hair — your scent both relaxing yet addicting.
“yeah,” satoru sighs in content and closes his eyes—allowing them to rest. all his senses are focused on making you feel better. he won’t let go of you until he’s sure you understand that you’re deserving of it all; his loving hugs, kisses, words of affirmation, gifts, comfort, cuddles and support.
“forever and beyond that.”
satoru doesn’t mind reminding you how much he cherishes you. even if he has to remind you every day until the day he succumbs. you’re his number one priority; he’ll even make sure to tell you he loves you with his dying breath when the time comes.
he’ll make sure of it.
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hungharrington · 6 months ago
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i feel it coming, babe
technically the sequel to a little less conversation this is yet another piece for girlies (gn) with bad sex experiences <3 remember sometimes it takes more than once to get it right honeys :D 12k words, fem!reader, MDNI THIS ENTIRE BLOG IS 18+
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Okay so, you’ll admit, you might be beginning to get it. 
A smidge. A pinch. 
It’s just— well, how are you not supposed to understand it? How can you not get the thrill and fervour over sex when it’s with Steve and he looks like that. All golden tan skin and hazel eyes that look at you like he might eat you whole and— and he treats you like… 
Like there was never anything wrong with you.
Even after that balmy afternoon spent in his sheets, with his mouth between your thighs, pulling noises out of you that you’d never even heard before, he’s been so perfectly so. Not pushy, yet still that lingering hunger you can see simmering beneath his skin, hidden in the flex of his fingers. 
Part of you almost worries, a little niggle burrowed in the back of your mind, that it was all a fluke.
That nothing had really changed all that much between you— that the next time things start getting heated, the chemistry won’t be there. Or it’ll be weird and off, or you will be, and really, you were probably lucky to have that first time with Steve so good but you can’t expect that again. 
But then… there is one difference at least, to combat all your swarming thoughts a fluke. The kisses. 
When you think of Steve Harrington and his playboy past, you can’t say, of the words tossed around in the high school corridor, that clingy is something that comes to mind. Not that he had been described as anything other than charming… but you don’t mind pleasant surprise of coming to learn this about Steve. 
It means kisses all the time. 
On your hands, scattered across your knuckles, when he’s dropping you home from a date. Kisses pressed to your hair and forehead, when he’s scooching past you, when he’s saying hello and his hands are busy, when you sit between his legs on the sofa. 
He kisses your shoulders, up along the curve of your neck just to see if it’ll still make you laugh a bit when he finds that ticklish spot beneath your ear. Adores sweeping back your hair to plant a kiss against your skin with the sweetest little ‘mwah!’ so quiet you don’t think you’re meant to hear it. 
And your lips… you don’t think they’ve ever been so kiss-bitten in your life.
One night with Steve can leave them blooming with colour, all the blood beneath them rushing with pleasure as he kisses your mouth soft — sometimes hard, sometimes sweet, always maddeningly. 
He greets you with a kiss always, one hand curled gently around your chin to tilt it up perfectly. And always after, a grin spreads across his face, brown eyes crinkling and pink lips barely restrained his joy. 
“Hi, sweetheart.” He’ll always says, or some variation.
Which, yeah, that’s new too. Sweetheart. You haven’t quite figured out how to not melt to a gloopy gooey mess when he says it just yet. It’s a damn good thing that your boyfriend is a gentleman and he politely doesn’t comment when you fluster, only gets the smallest hint of a smirk. 
For all your past worries about not kissing him for fear of leading him on, you hadn’t realise quite how much you were depriving yourself of affection. Steve’s certainly turning you greedy— and he’s all too happy to sate your appetite for it. 
Today, it’s drizzly. The colour of the sky is a bright ashen grey, enough to warrant a headache and inspire a day inside. In the distance, you can see the thunder clouds rolling in and bringing a blanket of shadow with them. 
They reach overhead much quicker than you’re expecting and you’re barely a block out from Steve's house before the rain starts coming down. 
Try as you might, raincoat tucked tight around you, you’re still a bit drenched by the time you make it to Steve’s doorstep. One freezing finger presses the door bell. A chime sounds inside. 
You rub your hands together to try warm them as you wait, cringing at the whisk of wind that twirls your hair up and about. Your hands shoot up and you nervously flatten the wild strands back down— right as Steve opens the door.
He’s got a towel around his neck, one hand scrubbing it into his wet hair. Judging from his ruffled t-shirt — put on in a rush and exposing his tummy — he’s just got out the shower. He looks surprised but happy to see you.
“Sweetheart, hi-hoooooly shit,” He sticks his head out the door, eyes wide as he takes in the weather. His hair flicks as he turns back to you. “Did you walk the whole way from your house? In the rain?” 
Your shoulders form a meek shrug. Before you can speak, his hands are on your shoulders, tugging you inside, across the doorway. He kicks it shut behind you. 
“Christ, honey, what’d you do that for?” His hands fret a little bit, rubbing at your shoulders. He gently picks a piece of hair that’s stuck to your cheek, placing it behind your ear. 
“I mean,” You start, a little confused. Your hands tighten on your overnight bag, wringing the handle tightly. He knew you were coming over, right? “I thought we— on the phone, we made a plan?” 
Steve breathes a soft laugh. “Yeah, we’ve got plans. But I would’ve come got you instead of making you walk through the rain. C’mon, what  kind of boyfriend do you think I am?” 
His use of the word boyfriend still makes you glow. You smile, nope, you grin all cheesy — and it doesn’t help at all when Steve’s hands trail down your jacket to hold your own. He wiggles the handles of your bag out from your frozen fingers and drops it behind him gently. His hands dart back to cover yours.
“Dear god, I think you’re about two minutes from losing a finger.” His eyebrows have scrunched together in worry. He brings your hands up to his face, cupped in his own, and blows hot air on them. It tickles but you can’t stop smiling. 
He pulls them back, rubbing his thumbs over your icy fingers and peers down at them. Your heart coos at his concern. 
“What’s the verdict doctor?” You jest, making your voice all breathy and dramatic. “Am I gonna make it?” 
Steve frowns harder at your hands, his face serious when he tilts it back up to face you. “I’m afraid we’re gonna have to amputate.” 
You gasp dramatically. 
Steve grins. He runs over your hands once more, one of his fingers creeping up your wrist, trying to find a ticklish spot. You squeal a little, trying to pull back but he holds your hands firm in his own. He continues his serious voice. 
“Ma’am, I’m sorry but it’s your whole arm. We’re gonna have to chop it right off.” 
His fingers are half way up your sleeve, making it bunch up and you’re laughing so much it’s warming you up much faster than him blowing on your hands. You push his hand away playfully and Steve relents, putting his hands up in surrender. 
“Okay, okay, you got me.” He grins. “I’m not a real doctor.”
You laugh again, reaching up to tuck back your hair that’s fallen forward in your squirming. “Uh huh, a real doofus is what you are.” 
Steve rolls his eyes endearingly, his hands reaching out to snag your waist this time. He tugs you closer. Your feet stumble and when you press against his chest, you’re delighted to find he’s very, very warm. You're definitely soaking his shirt a bit with your coat but if Steve cares, he doesn't say.
“Just realised I didn’t properly say hello,” He murmurs, a little quieter than before. 
And when one of his hands moves up and curls beneath your jaw, holding your chin gently, you know what’s coming. If you weren’t already holding your breath in anticipation, he probably would’ve stolen it with his kiss.
His plush lips are soft and with a loving little hum, he kisses you.
All the lights around you look a little dewey and heart-shaped when Steve pulls back — though it may be just your own lovey-dovey eyes. You sigh without meaning to, all honeyed and sweet, and Steve softens immeasurably at the sound. 
“Okay,” He shifts his hands back down to your hands, rubbing them lightly. “I’m not kidding, even your lips feel frozen. D’ya wanna take a quick shower just to warm up?” 
Something about you flushes at his suggestion— a runaway thought about getting in his shower, it getting steamier and steamier, especially with Steve slipping in to join you halfway. You clear your throat to push away the thought and focus. 
Your hair is wetter than you’d expected, sticking to your neck in cold tendrils. A shiver zips down your spine. All your scandalous thoughts aside, it sounds like a pretty good idea. 
“Yeah,” you nod gingerly. “Yeah, okay, it wouldn’t mind the warm up.” 
Steve steps back, bending down to scoop up your bag deftly. He holds it for you as you unbutton your coat as quick as you can with your frozen fingers, shivering in relief as you shed the drenched layer. Droplets of rain spray in the rustle. Your coat finds a home on a peg beside the door.
It’s comforting how easy it is to follow Steve up the stairs, drinking in his cosy attire from behind— gone are his usual tight fitting jeans. Instead, he’s donned what you guess is his pyjamas; a plain ringer tee and red, plaid, and long flannelette pants. His feet are warmed by fluffy socks that have reindeer prancing about the fabric. A flash of his tan ankle makes you stumble for a moment.
Steve trades your overnight bag, with a smile and a promise to keep it safe, for a pillowy white towel, soft as ever. He leads you into the bathroom off his bedroom, depositing your bag on his bed along the way. 
His fingers find the switch for the heated towel rail and while you fold the towel over it neatly, heart humming in content at being taken care of, Steve starts the shower. He sticks one hand in, holding it under the spray and grimacing at the cold— until the chill slips away beneath the steamy hot water. 
“Alright,” Steve says, pulling his hand back. He gives it a little shake, droplets splattering on the tiles. “All ready for my best girl.“ 
He gives a cheesy and charismatic smile as he wipes his hand dry and if you were brave enough, you might give him a little thank you kiss for it. You aren’t just yet — but when he moves to slip by you, you halt him with a soft hand on his torso. 
“Thank you.” you say, quieter than you intend. You push on the balls of your feet and plant a quick peck onto his cheek. 
Pink blooms beneath where your lips touch. Steve looks like he melts a bit, lashes fluttering as he sucks in a sharp inhale. Turns out neither of you are getting any closer to getting used to the affection. It’s sweet to know it goes both ways. 
“I’m gonna—“ Steve breathes, his hand drifting up, his index finger pointed out to the door. “I’ll be nearby if you need anything. Or if you fall. Just like, uh, yell- or scream. Or— you know what, you’ve taken a shower before.” 
He stumbles out towards the exit, pulling two awkward thumbs-up over his shoulders. The door swings shut behind him, closing with a quiet click. 
Your clothes pool to the ground, a trail leading towards the shower as you move with haste. Though you’re sure the Harrington's won’t notice, you don’t want to waste the hot water. 
The heat soothes you— swathes of relief washing down your body, picking up every piece of ice in your skin and sending it swirling down the drain. It doesn’t take too long to get back to warm and toasty. 
Still, when your eye catches on it, you can’t resist. Steve has a body wash that smells heavenly. You pick it up, flick back the cap, and take a whiff — just to check it’s the one that’s been infiltrating your very dreams. Steve, even on a daily basis, manages to smell so good it drives you close to delirium. 
You’re more than happy to steal it for yourself today. You take another sniff of the bottle in your grasp, just to inhale it with a sigh. The sweater he let you borrow the other week has the exact same smell; a musky perfumed scent, with a hint of bergamot. 
You dollop some in your hand and lather it all over. Properly cleansed and throughly warmed up, you let the final suds whirlpool down the drain before shutting the tap off and stepping out. The fluffy porcelain coloured towel is toasty in your hands as you pluck it off the rail.  A sigh in appreciation comes out as you dry off, twisting it around yourself. 
It’s as you stand there, refreshed and smelling of Steve, in just a towel, do you realise you’ve forgotten to bring in clothes to change into. 
On his bed, Steve sits idle — because what else is Steve supposed to do when you’re in his shower? When you’re naked in his shower. Naked in his shower and probably using his soap and lathering it up down your body and on your boobs and— oh my god, soapy boobs and— 
Steve’s pulls himself from his thoughts with a rapid shake of his head, just in time for the bathroom door to rattle open and your shining face to peek through. 
You look a little flushed, maybe from the heat, or from the lack of clothing. Steve can see your bare shoulder, his eyes tracking a drop as it rolls down your collarbone. None of this helps his runaway thoughts. 
He stands up without thought. Then he realises how strange he might look, like a dog standing to attention. 
“Feeling boober?” Steve says, like an idiot. Heat floods his face as he realises his flub. “BETTER! Are you feeling better?” 
He’s thankful that you at least laugh, a pretty sound that you tuck behind your hand. You have the nerve to wiggle your eyebrows at him, a far cry from the confidence he’s come to expect from you in the past. Steve can’t deny— he adores it. 
“What are you thinking about?” 
“God,” Steve groans. He shoves his face into his hands and turns around, his back to you. His words are muffled over his shoulder. “Don’t even ask me that right now.” 
Another laugh titters out of you. Steve can’t resist peering over his shoulder. The steam curls out through the gap of the door, leaving dew on your skin. You look ethereal, like a dewy angel from a dream.
“Alright,” you relent playfully. You’re fighting a smile and losing, badly. Steve yearns. “Can you please pass me my bag?” 
This next time the door opens again and you step out, there’s less tantalising skin to tease Steve and his wandering mind. There’s still a flash of wet skin, the curve between your shoulder and neck. Steve wants to lick it, kiss it, devour it til the skin beneath is riddled with the bruises of a lover. 
For a moment, you’re simply admired — Steve’s eyes on you, adoring and soft, as you creep out the bathroom like you don’t want to make too much noise. 
You notice in your absence Steve has cajoled a little tray table into his room, tucked up at the foot of his bed. Atop it sits a chunky television, antennae sticking up in perfectly straight lines. The ones at home on yours are slightly warped from all the readjusting. 
“Hey,” Steve says. He’s on the bed this time, and while he doesn’t get up this time, he sits up straighter as you emerge from the bathroom. You put your bag down, abandoning it by the door and try to quell your nerves. 
Steve, unless he’s somehow obtained x-ray vision and hadn’t told you, can’t see the nice matching set you’ve got beneath your comfy clothes. 
He won’t see it— unless this night goes where you think it might, where you hope it might, but even still, the thought manages to make you fluster. 
“Hi.” You say back, voice closer to a whisper. 
The bed sinks beneath your weight as you climb on to situate yourself beside Steve. He’s all soft corners and crinkled eyes, his arm raised up in an instant for you to tuck yourself under. Even warmer in his arms, your heart delights when he gives you a little squeeze.
“Alright, movie time!” The television at the foot of the bed pulls Steve away from you. He unwinds his arm enough to crawl down the bed. The grey ringer shirt he has one slips forward a bit and at your angle, you can catch more than a sliver of his tan tummy. 
Without thinking, your thighs press together tightly as heat flares between them. You can trace the alluring wiry trail of hair with your eyes until it disappears into his pyjama pants, continuing out of sight. A part of your wants. 
You want to see where it goes, want to curl your fingers into his waistband and work it downwards, you want find out if the moles go all the way down his thighs like you hope they do.
Hunger sinks its teeth into your skin; a hunger you’ve been getting more and more familiar with. 
“Okay, pervert,” Steve’s cheeky remark shakes you from your thoughts and you start to stammer. He’s clearly caught you staring. “Can’t say I blame you for ogling—“ 
“I was not—“  
“— because I have been told before that I have a very distracting and attractive behind.” 
You sputter and despite your best efforts, a little laugh splutters through as well because well, yeah, he’s not wrong — but your brain is stuck on repeat with something else entirely. 
Tummy, tummy, tummy, the hair on his tummy, the hair leading down into his pants.   
“Yeah, uh huh, okay, Harrington,” You slump back against the pillows with a dramatic sigh, clearly teasing. “If you say so.” 
The television flickers to life right as Steve lunges back towards you with all the energy of a labrador puppy. He squishes down onto you so quickly that you actually squeal in surprise. 
“Oh, I’m back to just Harrington now?” He pouts, squeezing even closer to you. You’re laughing, flattened beneath him in a way that you can’t even wiggle your arms out. He’s draped across you dramatically. You trust him completely. 
“It’s your name, isn’t it?” 
“I thought my name was,” He leans closer and kisses your neck. “Boyfriend. Or baby. Orrrrrr,” 
He kisses up your neck and onto your cheek. His hazel eyes are bright, crinkled in his grin so much that his lashes kiss in the corner. He kisses your nose. “Handsome.” 
“Mmmhm,” you revel in the never-ending affection, glowing from the inside with happiness. You wiggle your arms to make Steve push himself up, just enough to free them from being smothered against your chest. Free to roam, your hands find the sides of his face. 
“What about…” You begin. Steve watches you closely, evidently gleeful from the touchiness of your hands. He pushes into your palm, turning to kiss it fast. “My snookums.” 
You exaggerate the word, your voice going all sugary to butter it up. You watch as emotions ripple across Steve’s face— the twitch in his nose as he tries not to outright frown at you. How polite he is. 
It’s only as he catches the grin spreading across your face, wicked and just loving watching him squirm at the terrible pet-name, does he catch on to your jest. A sigh of relief and a chuckle whooshes out of him at once. 
“Oh, thank God you’re joking.” He drops all his weight into your waiting hands, grinning when you let his face flops forward into your chest. His words are completely muffled as he speaks into your chest. “That could’ve been serious grounds for a breakup.”
You huff a laugh and nudge him up best you can. “Yeah, alright, drama queen. Your movie is starting.” 
Steve’s head pops up, his head twisting back towards the television like he had forgotten about its existence until you had mentioned it. 
“Oh true,” He says. He pushes up off you to sit himself up, shuffling back so instead you can lean on him. Re-situating his arms around you, Steve hums absentmindedly as he throws a leg over you, tangling it with yours. Thoroughly intertwined, you both sink back into the pillows. 
The credits roll up and off the screen, the first five minutes of the film whisked away while you and Steve were settling down. Now, the opening scene begins, the grainy picture on the screen buzzing as it plays the VHS. 
You get approximately two minutes of silence, your and Steve’s heads turned towards the television, until distraction kicks in.
You do your best to ignore it as his head turns towards you, your eyes still focused on the screen, but all your attention runs to Steve. He nudges a little closer to you, his nose pressing into your temple and right as you realise he’s smelling you, he says— 
“Did you use my body wash?” 
You freeze. 
“I— was I not supposed to?” Your voice comes out a bit weaker than intended. 
Steve lets out a soft noise, somewhere between a sigh and a groan, only worrying you further. He starts to shift around a bit, retracting his leg back an inch, his nose no longer nudging close along your temple; all actions that contrast his assuring words. 
“No, no, no, it’s fine, you’re fine—“ Despite his words, he shifts again. His hips shuffle backward, one of his hands moving down subtlety as he can to fuss with his pyjama pants. 
It takes about two more seconds for you to get it — clued in by Steve’s suddenly scarlet cheeks and his embarrassed expression. 
Your mouth drops open a bit unwittingly. 
“Are you—“ 
“Yes.” Steve grates out. He abandons fixing the growing tent in his pants to cover his face with his hands, rolling slightly away from you. You can feel the heat of his embarrassment radiating off him. His words are slightly muffled from behind his palms. 
“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean— I didn’t even realise that was something that got me going until, like, right this second.”  
It’s adorable that he’s so flustered and that he’s apologising. You’ve never had that happen before. You’ve never had someone so conscious of how it might seem— never someone like Steve who doesn’t seem to come with any expectations. 
A thread of relief jolts through you. It reaffirms what you already know; anything you want to do will be done on your terms. 
And with his eyes covered up, if you glance down at his pants for good hard look…. well, that’s between you and the universe.
“Steve,” your fingers curl around one of his wrists, tugging it gently. You try to coax his face out of hiding, your smile somewhere between giggly and endeared. “It’s— it’s okay, really, you don’t have to apologise. I— I mean, I’m honestly flattered.” 
Steve deflates a bit, torn between relief and his still persistent concern. He had made a committed plan that he wouldn’t make any moves until you initiated it first and yet, here he was, like every other male in Hawkins. Popping a boner the moment you settle down to innocently cuddle. God, he’s the worst!
A pout forms on his lips. He wishes he could rewind the last 2 minutes and spend the whole movie holding his breath. 
“What is it about the body wash?” 
Your question takes him by surprise, given the way his other hand drops off from covering his face. He blinks up at you, cheeks still with a hint of cherry red. 
“I- I dunno.” He admits. “Like I said I didn’t even realise that…” 
Steve’s cheeks flush with colour again. He clears his throat. “That would have that effect on me.” 
Something within you preens, a fire stoked by his honest admission; a zing shooting down your spine because you don’t think you will ever get used to hearing how Steve wants you.
“Well,” you begin, the word more timid than you hoped it would be. You clear your throat and cast a glance at the television, feigning casualness. “If I was the cause…” 
You let your hand come up, brushing across his warm tummy. Look up at him through your lashes, hoping, praying it looks sexier than you’re feeling— which is somewhere between flustered and foolish.
Still, Steve’s throat bobs. You watch his eyes dart down to your lingering hand, an inch or so above his waistband. 
“Maybe, I can be the remedy.” 
A tiny groan scrapes out of Steve’s throat, like he would love nothing more. Even so, he pins you with a sincere look, hazel eyes burning into yours. 
“You don’t have to do that.” He assures you. “I mean—“ He coughs awkwardly. “It will go away, uh, in time.” 
“I’m aware how it works, Steve.” 
“Oh, are you?” Steve jokes— laughing when you wallop him in the chest. He grabs your hand, stopping your assault mid-motion with a cheeky smile. “Okay! Okay, I deserved that.” 
He releases your hand and you let it fall onto his chest. Nerves prickle beneath your skin but with them is something new, something you’ve only gained since your time with Steve; anticipation. 
Steeling your anxiety, you let your hand trail down his chest slowly— enough time that he could halt you before you embarrassed yourself. But he doesn’t. Steve watches you closely, his chest rising and falling a bit harder as your hand nears his waistband. 
This time, you don’t stop. You let your fingers brush over the tented fabric hesitantly, torn between wanting to watch your hand or to see his face. As confidently as you can, you palm across his bulge— feeling the heat of his hard length thickening up under your hand. 
Steve groans lowly. 
You look up at him as you rub him softly, taking in his large pupils and pink lips. He’s watching you too, his eyes darting between your face and the hand on his cock. 
“Is this okay?” You check. The movie crackles on in the background, idle noise. Steve nods quickly, a curl of his hair falling down onto his forehead. 
“Yeah,” He says, voice breathier than it was a minute ago. You try out a harder rub, beginning to feel out the shape of his cock, and you curl your fingers around it. Steve groans again, a little bit louder, his eyelashes fluttering. 
Still, he composes himself enough to ask, “Is this okay for you?” 
“Hmmm,” you draw out the noise, the smile on your face giving away your faux-thinking. You squeeze him again, right as you murmur, “Maybe make that noise again and I’ll see.” 
But any noise he makes is captured in your mouth as he surges forward, one of his hands curling up under your jaw. His fingers slide into your hair and his lips are sweet and soft, hungry for more against your own. 
You can’t help but melt under his kisses, body relaxing into the sheets as you let yourself be kissed breathlessly. A warmth pools deep within your chest, drooling down into your stomach. Anticipations sinks in. Your thighs rub together. 
Losing the nerve and the focus, your hand slips up to cup at Steve’s hip— but if he cares, he doesn’t show it. Instead, he takes it as a cue to press forward, leaning his weight onto on his elbows to hold his weight as he shifts up, his lips never leaving yours. 
It’s one smooth motion, the way he slips a leg between your own, his body held up and hovering above yours. He kisses, slow and languid. You ache. Your lips haven’t ever been so kissed before. 
It isn’t until his thigh shifts up and presses just right do you notice it properly — unable to swallow your shallow gasp, lips halting against Steve’s as a bolt of pleasure blooms deep in your gut. Your eyelashes flutter, a shadow of embarrassment threatening your cheeks. 
“S’okay?” Steve whispers, not relenting any of his closeness. His lips brush yours. 
You nod gently, a quiet hum sounding in your throat. You’re not entirely sure you can form words right now. Not when it feels like your heartbeat is everywhere — when you can feel the heat between your legs, the tightness of your nipples as they peak, the undeniable thrum of lust building within you. 
And certainly not when you can feel Steve, his hardness pressed up against your thigh, his pupils bigger than usual. They’re ringed in that hazel you love— a colour that might be your new favourite ever. 
Fuck, you’re in deep. What an incredibly sappy thought to have while you’re getting hot and bothered. Did Steve think that way about you too? Think about the colour of your eyes while he kissed your mouth?
“I…” You finally find your voice and Steve pulls back a couple inches so he can see you properly. His eyes dart over your face adoringly, his lips rosy red from all the kisses and quirked into a smile. He looks at you as if you’re everything. 
“I want to…” You say, unable to find the words to finish your sentence. Embarrassment winds up inside you, ready to spring free but Steve seems uncaring at your hesitance. 
“You wanna what?” 
He kisses the corner of your mouth with a hum. Endlessly patient. Somehow your stomach churns a little faster at that. Nerves stand up on their end, a thousand uneasy prickles over your body. 
“I want to.” You say this time, firmer. “Do more.” 
It still sounds too mousy coming out and you see a flicker of something on Steve’s face. 
“If you do, I mean.” You add on quickly. “I want to if you do.”
Steve huffs a quiet laugh, like the idea of checking in with him was a bit absurd. His gaze roams over your face slowly, taking his fine time just looking at you. He looks as though he doesn’t quite know what to say. 
He lands on, “You don’t seem sure.” 
Your heart flip-flops at the wrinkle between his eyebrows, his concern evident. He fixes you with a serious, sincere look.
You nod, your hair scrunching up against the pillow as you do. “I am. I just…” 
You sink your teeth into your bottom lip and worry it, thinking of how to put this. You’ve said it before, you’ve told him how it was in the past, how you hadn’t enjoyed it and yet…
Feeling too squirmish under Steve’s intense stare, you avert your eyes to look at the ceiling and swallow the knot in your throat. 
Your voice comes out a whisper. “I want to try but I’m not sure— I just I can’t promise that I’ll- that y’know, I—” 
Eyes crushing closed, you try to seize your bubbling anxiety before it seizes you. This is Steve. You trust him wholly. Just a moment ago you were thinking about how much you like him and—
“Hey,” Steve murmurs lowly, nudging his nose into yours. Your eyes open. He smiles softly when he says, “I have no interest in doing something you don’t enjoy.” 
The protest flounders up inside you before you can stop it. “But—“ 
“So,” He cuts you off pointedly. “If we give it a go and you don’t like it, that’s okay. We can just figure out what you do enjoy, okay?“
For a long moment, you just stare up at him.  
“Yeah? So we can just try and if it… If I…” You flounder for words, sounding like you think it must be too good to be true. You stare up at the ceiling as you try to verbalise the biggest hurdle, the final niggling worry.
You peer back up at Steve’s face. “You… you wouldn’t be disappointed if we started but then I wanted to stop?” 
Some emotion shutters across Steve’s face, a flash of devastation. You mistake it for annoyance. 
An unwelcome hitch suddenly twists in your stomach. “I'm sorry, I know that you— we already- last time, we talked about this and I should know—“ 
“Stop it,” Steve interrupts with a soft shake of his head. “Stop doing that, it’s fine to feel unsure or- or to not know what you like. It takes time and experience to figure what you do like.” 
His hand shifts up, brushing the hair back from your forehead. He leaves it there, the warmth of his hand a comfort. His fingers curl lightly into your hair. 
“That’s all I wanna do,” He breathes softly, his lips tugging up at the corners. He looks unbearably earnest, his brown eyes shining. “Just wanna do what you like. Wanna figure out what you like.” 
He leans down and kisses your cheek. Then your jaw. Then that soft sensitive spot under your ear. You squirm but this time for all the right reasons. 
“Y’want me to do that?” He murmurs. 
You’re breathing a little heavier and when Steve nips at your earlobe sparingly, just a love bite and a flash of teeth, your breath catches loudly. Desire surges through you, hot and straight between your legs. 
It takes another moment to remember he’s asked you a question. 
“Yeah…” you breathe. You wanna nod but you don’t want him to stop what he’s doing. Your throat bobs as you swallow. “I wanna do that. Wanna— wanna learn what you like too.” 
Steve hums, a pleased sound, and he kisses languidly at your neck. His lips, soft and plush, scrape against your skin in a way that gathers heat low in your gut. Your hips tilt forward an inch, moving against his thigh almost imperceptibly.
“Yeah?” 
The way he says it, the way the word rolls out of his mouth, all husky and low, makes your nipples peak. 
“We get to learn together, hm?” He kisses your neck again. The soft press of his tongue and the gentle scrape of his teeth have you gripping the sheets, almost white knuckled. 
Suddenly, you can’t stand to not be touching him. Your hands fly from the sheets, fingers curling around his midriff, feeling at the warm skin. His t-shirt is warmed by him. You slip your hands beneath it as he bites where your shoulder meets your neck, soft enough to make you sigh. 
Your hand finds skin. Finally, finally, you get your hands on that damned happy trail that’s been all but haunting your daydreams for the past months. 
As Steve kisses down your neck, you trace the line of hair with your finger slowly. Your thumb strokes the coarse hair all the way down to his waistband, gentle and hungry all at once— trying to commit it all to memory. Unwittingly, Steve shivers at the motion. 
“Fuck,” his breath shudders against your neck. He tucks his face in closer, fighting the urge to press his body up against yours and grind. You feel the twitch in his hips anyway. “You drive me crazy.” 
“Me too,” you gasp when he pulls off your neck, blowing cool air across the heated skin he’s been dedicating himself to. You wonder if a bruise will come up, beautiful and kiss-bitten. You clench a little at the thought, the heat between your thighs only increasing. 
A mark from him— a mark of a lover. 
You want to give one to him too. Managing to remember you can do things with your hands, other than just pawing at his back, you shift them up to curl into his hair. Tugging gently, you coax his face up enough so you can nose alone the length of his neck. 
Steve’s panting and you can hear his breath catch when you start planting kiss after kiss on his skin— dragging your bottom lip across those glorious moles you adore so much. 
Without meaning to, you press him back and Steve lets himself roll back onto the mattress, his hands tugging you closer. You take the invitation and struggle for a moment to get up over his hips, one leg too tangled in the blanket on the bed. 
“My leg,” you laugh weakly, having to retract a hand from his hair to free it. When you do, you settle down, straddling his hips, and try not to lose your confidence. Still, you can’t help apologising. “Sorry.” 
Steve peers up at you lovingly, frowning a little when you apologise. “What? No, it’s fine.” 
He shifts one hand and grabs the loose blanket beside you and then hefts it up, throwing it as far as he can off the bed with a grunt. It lands somewhere behind you with a soft noise. 
“Blanket’s fault.” He says, brown eyes back on you. “Freaking cockblock. I got rid of him, babe, don’t worry.” 
You snort a little, leaning down to kiss his perfect lips.
“My hero.” You murmur sarcastically against them. 
“Ooh, say that again, baby,” Steve moans exaggeratedly, throwing his head back onto the pillow dramatic, his eyes screwed shit.  
You laugh, unknowingly relaxing a little further into him. You swat at his chest. 
“Steve.” 
“Oh!” He moans again, all girlish and fake, and twists his head in the other direction. “I love it when you say my name like I’m an idiot!” 
You gasp, but it’s still hidden in your laughter as you hit his chest again, for a different reason this time. 
“Don’t say that!” You say genuinely. “I don’t think you’re an idiot.” 
Steve drops the act, his eyes creasing open to shine up at you. He’s glowing beneath you, cheeks a bit flushed and grinning like he’s a little bit in love with you. You think he might be. 
“No, you don’t.” He agrees. He soothes his hands up and down your sides. “Only idiot is that idiot who let you think there was anything wrong with you.” 
“Ugh,” you scoff. “Please don’t bring him up ever again— least of all when we’re in bed.” 
Steve squeezes your sides gently and smiles up at you like he hasn’t heard a word you’ve said. “Noted.” 
And then you kiss him. 
For a couple of minutes it’s this easy, lazy making out that you love. Though, it’s like there’s a furnace turning up beneath you both, the intensity getting more feverish with every kiss. When Steve finally pulls back from you, panting, he looks as flustered as you feel. 
“Can I take these off?” 
His fingers are curled into the waistband of your pyjama pants. You nod before you can overthink it, letting him shimmy them down your thighs and settling yourself down on the comforter. Steve sits up a bit beside you, to tug them down your legs and off your ankles. 
Steve’s focus is on his hands but your gaze is stuck on his face— and you watch as he tosses your pants behind him carelessly. His eyes fix on your cunt, hidden away behind your lacy panties. 
“Woah,” he murmurs softly, eyes flicking up to meet yours. He leans down on his elbows, one arm on either side of your hips and pings the elastic on the cutest lingerie you own. “These are very pretty.” 
He sounds like he means it, his voice tinged with lust. It gives you a moment of confidence. 
“Yeah?” You ask. You slide your hands up, pushing your shirt up gingerly as you to reveal the matching bra to him.
Even from your distance, you can see how Steve’s pupils dilate, blowing way out. “You like them?” 
Steve let’s out a pained noise as his head flops over, his nose pressed into your hipbone. One of his hands reaches down between his legs, adjusting himself in his pants. 
He looks back up at you, hair a bit mussed, and pouts.
“That’s not fair! That’s so not fair. Did you plan this? Blindside me by wearing my body wash and then surprise me with matching lingerie?” 
The way he says it, all faux accusatory, makes you grin. He sits up long enough to tug his own shirt off, discarding it behind him, and crawls up the bed to kiss you. You catch a glint of the single chain he wears around his neck before he's kissing you.
“You—” Kiss. “look—” Kiss. “so—” Kiss. “fuckin’—” Kiss. “hot.” 
He pulls back, taking a moment to just gaze at you before he leans back further, scuttling down the sheets til he’s paused between above your legs. 
Something within you flares hotly at the memory of the last time he was in the position. You feel a warm pulse in your cunt, a trickle of slick coating your panties. Your hips shift an inch— half nerves, half anticipation.
Steve kisses you over your panties, like last time, the first chaste and on your clit. The next is a little lower, a little slower, his lips parting further and his tongue pressing languidly against your core. You squirm, breathing a little heavier. 
His hands grips gently at your hips, moving up to smooth over your thighs. He lets his fingers slip forward, the tips of them pressing lightly into your inner thighs. He pulls them further apart and ruins you a bit when he kisses sweet along the skin of your thigh. 
“I’m pretty sure we could just do this every time and I’d be happy,” Steve says, but it’s paired a chuckle fringed with nerves.
He looks up at you and you realise it is a bit of nervousness— like he’s worried you might find it embarrassing just how much he likes it. 
Your blood hums in response, warmer, all of it rushing down your body. You don’t know quite what to say to that, so you say, “Yeah?” 
Steve smiles, that flash of nervousness already gone or cleverly hidden. He gives your thighs a gentle squeeze with his large hands and rubs his cheek up against one of them. 
“Are you kidding me? I think I’d do anything you wanted just to hear those noises you made again.” 
Your lips part slightly in surprise. He’s always so startlingly honest and forward with his feelings but, somehow, it still manages takes you by surprise— that he’s not at all shy about how much he likes you. 
Scrambling for an appropriately sexy response, you come up blank and instead decide to press your thighs together. Between them, Steve’s cheeks squish forward, his lips forming an absurdly funny pout. 
“Hey!” He exclaims.
It comes out a little muffled with his face squidged up and the mixture of both his face and voice makes you laugh. You release him, legs falling apart, feeling the breath of his laugh again your skin. 
“Kidding, you can warm my ears anytime you want, honey,” He’s still grinning up at you when he says it. Part of you know he’s being completely serious. 
Your gut burns low. You resist the urge to squirm, feeling the heat chase down to your cunt. It’s hard to relax when he manages to make you feel so keyed up. 
“Stop getting distracted.” You jest. 
“You stop getting distracted,” He jibes back, but his focus drifts back down, his eyes darkening with a fiery lust. 
He rubs the skin of your thighs again, soothingly, and lets one hand creep forward til his knuckles are brushing up against the edge of your panties. His thumb presses forward, into the wet spot you’ve soaked through. 
Even so, he still asks, “How we doin’? Still feeling good?” 
You nod quickly, then think verbal confirmation is probably far better. “Yeah, still good.” 
Realising you’re staring up at the ceiling, hard, you flick your eyes down between your legs. Even if it doesn’t feel particularly sexy, you still have to say it. “Thank you for checking.” 
“Of course,” Steve says. He pinches the elastic of your panties lightly, his eyebrows raising in question. “Gonna take these off, yeah? Then you let me know if you don’t like anything I’m doing.” 
Despite your history, a huge part of you wants to say yeah, fat chance of that because yeah, you’re beginning to wonder if your boyfriend has some genuinely magical fingers. And a magical mouth. And wait, does that mean his co—
The thought gets ripped away as you feel your panties get tugged downwards and you quickly lift your hips to help. Though he’s seen you bare before, it’s impossible to stop the flush that rolls through your body, hot and tinged with embarrassment. You want to close your legs but Steve between them prevents that from happening. 
“Here,” Steve hums, reaching a hand up to scoop up your own from the bedsheets.
He gives it a quick kiss on the palm and then moves it up to land in his hair. “You let me know how m’doing, okay?” 
Your fingers curl into his brunette locks automatically and grip tightly when he leans in, his hot tongue dipping between your folds. Pleasure drips into your body as he begins to lick softly, his skilled tongue finding your bundle of nerves quickly and twisting around it. 
Heat builds. You close your eyes and let yourself enjoy it, soft pants escaping your lips as Steve kisses and suckles where you’re most sensitive, til there’s a moan lacing every breath. 
Fuck, he’s so good at this. How is he so good at this? 
One of his hands on your thighs starts to knead gently as the other one slides forward, til his thumb is rested at your slicked entrance. He hasn’t stopped sucking on your clit but your sudden sharp inhale catches his attention. 
“Sorry,” you say instinctively. 
“It’s fine,” Steve soothes, his thumb circling around your soaked hole, which clenches in response.
He kisses your thigh. Desire burns you up from within, your fingers twisting a little tighter in his hair, giving away your nerves. 
“We’re just figuring out what you like, yeah?” He muses, his words half comfort, half lust. 
You nod but don’t speak, trying to trust him enough to let his words calm you. Steve gives you a moment to breathe before he resumes the work with his mouth, his hot mouth suckling at your clit once again. 
He waits until you’re back to those quiet, shy lusty little noises before he tries again, prodding softly at your entrance in warning before he gently sinks his finger in. You gasp again, hands tightening in his hair — as something molten hot shoots right up your spine. 
“Steve,” you cry out his name. It feels... good, which feels like a fucking miracle in itself. He begins to fuck the finger in and out slowly, still lapping at your clit. A heat that you’ve only felt once before starts to nip at your skin, bleeding into each nerve. 
Your panting grows heavier and without meaning to, you clench down around him, desperate for a little more. 
“See, you like that one, huh?” Steve mumbles against you, his dark eyes flashing up to take in your face contorted in pleasure. His cock thickens unbearably in his pants, too confined. You nod, hair scrunching up against the pillow. 
“Yea—yes,” You say, feeling your hips rock down an inch. You want more of that. 
Steve obliges, more than willingly, adding another finger. It slides in with little resistance. It’s hotter than anything else to get to see you like this, pliant and horny, rocking your hips against his mouth. 
To get to make you like this— sucking on your cute little clit and fucking his fingers in, hearing the adorable squelch of your wetness. You’re so turned on it makes his brain melt a bit, the way you’re leaking all over his fingers. Steve’s cock throbs desperately— but he wants to make sure you’re stretched out enough to take him. If you want that, that is.
He eases one more finger in, keeping a careful watch on your face to see how you take it. You keen beautifully, back arching slightly as he curls his fingers and begins to stretch you out. 
You pant deliriously, these tiny whimpers beginning to slip out your throat. Steve wishes he could see your face, the cute scrunch of your brows as you moan— but happily settles for latching his lips back onto your cunt. 
Three fingers feel even better than two, you find, as you grip the sheets tightly— you’re throbbing but in this torturous way, balancing on the edge of too much and not enough. There’s a hint of pain lingering at the back, but not enough to distract you from the pleasure. 
It takes you by surprise then, when the pleasure suddenly tapers off, your eyes creasing up open and head popping up. You realise Steve is slowly stopping, his slick fingers slipping out of you as he sits back up a bit. 
“Why’d you stop?” You say without thinking.
Flushing, you quickly follow it up. “Every— everything okay?” 
God, you sound wiped. Your chest is still heaving and your clit twitches, missing the stimulation of your boyfriend’s mouth. The air smells honeyed and perfumed with sex. 
“You tell me,” Steve murmurs sweetly, his lips grazing the inside of your knee in an almost kiss. “You said you wanted to do more. Is this enough more?” 
Your heart nearly bursts in the pure consideration. God, he’s so fucking nice to you. So unbothered to take things your pace, so attuned to making you feel good. You know that you could happily do this more for the rest of the night. 
But it’s not what you had in mind — and the longer you wait, the more you’re beginning to crave getting Steve to a similar state you’re in. Moaning, flushed in the face, his hands buried in your hair. 
“We can do more,” You say, your voice dropping back into that shy whisper. 
Steve watches you closely, his hand still absentmindedly rubbing at your thigh dotingly. 
You clear your throat and speak a little louder. “I wanna do more.” 
“Yeah?” Steve says, his grin growing. He huffs and shakes his head a little, dropping your gaze. 
“I mean, believe me, even if we just—“ He gestures vaguely between your thighs. “— did this all night? Night well spent.” 
You know he means it, especially with his hungry gaze that dips back down, his tongue slipping out to lick his bottom lip briefly.
You press up onto one elbow and reach out one hand, hooking your finger over the one single chain he wears. There’s a ring looped on it, the one you gave him as a promise, and just the sight of it makes you glow inside. 
You tug the chain forward lightly and him with it, Steve shifting up the bed til you’re nearly face to face, his frame hovering above you. The beds dips beneath his hands as they crawl up to either side of your waist, his intense eyes locking onto your face. He might be holding his breath. 
Swallowing, you move up and press your lips to his in a slow, soft kiss. It turns deeper, hotter, heavier. You swipe your tongue into his mouth and Steve lets out a pitiful noise in response, pressing his mouth against yours desperately. 
Drawing back with a little gasp, you open your eyes and repeat your earlier sentiment, “I want to do more.” 
Steve watches you, his exhale shaking slightly. You dot a kiss on his cheek quick, pulling back to meet his eyes.
“I want to do more with you.” 
A kiss on his other cheek, just as fast. Pink blooms beneath where your lips touch.
“I want to do more, right now.” 
Steve smiles splits into a grin, his eyes shining as he chuckles, the sound doused in fondness. “Okay, okay, I got the message,” He murmurs. 
Pushing back to sit on his heels, he turns and rummages around in his bedside table for a moment. You lay back on the pillows and try catch your breath, knowing it’s only a matter of time before it’s stolen once more. 
When Steve pulls back, there’s a row of condoms in one hand and a bottle of lube in the other. He tears off one of the condoms and throws the rest of them behind him without thought.
You can’t help but tilt your head up, neck straining a bit, not wanting to look away for a moment as Steve raises onto his knees and pushes his boxers down. His cock kicks up, released from its confines with a soft slap against his happy trail. 
Unwittingly, your mouth waters a bit.
And look, you’ve seen a dick before, okay? It’s pretty hard to sleep with someone and not see one, unless you have your eyes closed the entire time. 
But Steve’s cock is… pretty. 
Pink and aching, the head of it slick with a bit of pre-cum— that you realise he’s gotten from being worked up whilst eating you out. You gush a little at the dizzying thought. 
You want to touch it — or put it in your mouth so you can drool over it, can suck on it, can feel the heady weight of it on your tongue. Or, as you realise what the ache of your cunt means, you really, really want him to fuck you with it. 
Instinct drives your thighs apart, beckoning him between them. Steve’s eyes darken as he notes the motion, moving a bit more hastily to tear the condom packet open. He rolls it down his length, quick and precise. 
“Okay,” Steve breathes, reaching out for the lube and drizzling a generous amount into his palm. He keeps the bottle within reach as he slicks it over his heavy cock, a beautiful groan pushing out his throat as he does. 
“Okay,” He says again, a little breathier than before. Shuffling forward, Steve lines himself up with your core gently before halting. His eyes dart up to your face.
“You let me know if there’s anything you don’t like or you wanna stop.” 
You nod, his ardent care only serving to fuel your lust. You’ll coo over it in the afterglow— right now you want to be around him, want to feel him pulsing inside you, want to feel full where you’re suddenly feeling so, so empty. 
Steve shifts forward, beginning to sink into you with a low groan of pleasure. 
The first few seconds are bliss — Steve’s done his job well at warming you up and something hungry awakens with a burst of pleasure as you take the first few inches.
Then, something a little more uncomfortable joins the mix. 
You try not to squirm, disappointment inflating as your pleasure is robbed by the twinges of pain. It’s not unbearable but you’re enjoying yourself less. Steve moves in another inch and then discomfort abruptly becomes pain.
You inhale sharply, teeth gritted together, and Steve stops moving in an instant. 
“Woah, y’okay?” 
You nod, even as your eyes slip shut. Half of this is a mental game, you know that—you’ll never loosen up if you don’t try to relax. 
“Yeah,” you say quietly, voice a bit tight. “Just— just gimme a minute.” 
Steve murmurs a quiet sure but after a moment he says, “Wait, lemme—“ and moves forward so he’s hovering above you instead of sitting back, your faces much closer now. The jostling doesn’t help but having Steve closer does. 
He keeps his hips as still as he can and kisses your cheek. You don’t open your eyes just yet, willing yourself desperately to relax, to enjoy it. You take a deep breath.
“We can stop,” Steve whispers. 
You shake your head. Creasing your eyes open, you move your hands up so you can twine them around Steve’s neck in almost a hug. Steve leans down and kisses your cheek again, then steals a kiss from your lips. 
“I wanna—“ You gasp, frustration mounting at how the pain doesn’t seem to be subsiding. You sound miserable as you cling to him closer. “I want this to work.” 
“It’s okay if it doesn’t,” Steve responds, his arm shifting up so he can trace his thumb over your cheekbone. 
The movement moves his hips forward another inch, pain spiking so severely that you wince aloud, your face pinched in discomfort. That’s all it takes for Steve to shift back, easing out of you gently. You’re devastated at the relief that follows. 
“Okay, I’m not doing that if it hurts you—“ 
“It wasn’t,” You lie fruitlessly. You know Steve heard your wince—but maybe if you lie, you can trick your body. 
Hands coming up to cover your face, you scrunch your eyes up, annoyed at how they sting with tears so quickly. Your voice is all wobbly when you say, “I’m sorry. I'm sorry, I really want this to work, Steve.” 
Steve aches at your words, moving in to tug at your hands. His voice is soft, sweet.
“Hey, hey, I know that, sweetheart.” 
You don’t let him in, hands still shielding your face. He kisses your knuckles instead, his thumbs swiping up and down your wrists comfortingly. 
He waits a moment before he continues, voice buttery soft, “I know you want this. It’s not your fault if your body only likes it some ways and not others. You can’t control that and I know that.”  
You take one deep breath and it shudders as you inhale, sounding far too teary for Steve’s liking. He tugs at your wrists again, relieved when you let him pull them away tentatively. You aren’t crying but you look damn near close. 
“What’s got you so upset, huh?” Steve coos, nuzzling in close, his nose brushing against yours.
He releases your wrists to cup your face, tender and soft, his brows knit together in his concern. “You know I don’t mind- I told you that I don’t care what we do, just that you’re enjoying it.” 
You take another shaky inhale, a little more stable than the last. Steve can feel how you move to press back against him, nuzzling him back. You take another moment before you reply. 
“I just-“ You start, voice still tight. “It’s so stupid. I wanted it— I wanted to enjoy it. And that doesn’t even seem to matter to my body. It doesn’t even change how it feels and that sucks. Like I can’t control this part of me.” 
Steve listens dutifully, waiting til you finish and your eyes find him.
“Well,” He starts, averting his eyes somewhat sheepishly. “Take everything I say with a grain of salt, okay? But… your body doesn’t hurt just to mess with you, right?” 
He waits a moment for your tentative nod. “Right. So, it’s not for nothing. It’s trying to tell you something and- and ignoring that isn’t having control. You have to listen and work with your body — it’s your partner in all this.” 
“I thought you were my partner,” you whisper, the small smile on your lips giving away your joke. Steve faux rolls his eyes and kisses the tip of your nose. 
“I’m your other partner.” He smiles. Then sighs, casting his gaze above your head for a moment before meeting your eyes again. “Am I making any sense?” 
Wiggling one hand up, you place it on his cheek tenderly and begin to whisper. “You’re making a lot of sense actually.” 
Steve sighs, leaning his face into the palm of your hand with a huff. “Well, that’s a relief.” 
For a minute, there’s only quiet. Your emotions come down from their swell and you take the time to admire the beautiful boy above you, who seems to be doing just the same to you. 
After a moment of time, you clear your throat and say, “Can we try again?” 
Steve seems to think on it for a moment before he nods, turning to kiss your palm. 
“This is gonna make me sound like a total guy,” He says, words muffled against your hand. His brown eyes flash up to yours, darting between them. “But maybe we should try from the back. Like, different angle and all.” 
You snort, unable to hold it in because it does sound like such a guy thing to say. Even so, you give a little nod, eager to try something else. You don’t even want to acknowledge the mounting dread around disappointing Steve — even with all his assurances, you can’t help but feel as though this has been one gigantic let down. 
As Steve shifts back, you become suddenly aware of the lubed up slick spot on your thigh where Steve's cock was resting and scrunch your nose with a laugh. Peering down, you drag a finger through the wetness left on it. 
“Ew,” you laugh. 
“Ew?” Steve echoes incredulously. “Alright, that’s it.” His sits up and back, his hands darting down lightning fast, manoeuvring you all of sudden. He hooks his hands under your hips and lifts, twisting so you’re suddenly splayed on your front. 
You’re giggling all the while, drunk on the feeling of your boyfriend’s hands as they trail up your sides. The hair of his tanned scrapes against your back as he leans in, mouthing along your shoulder towards your neck. 
You find your knees and prop yourself up on them, lifting your hips off the sheets of Steve’s bed. At the angle he’s draped himself over you, it’s a perfect line up of his cock with your cunt, the head of it teasing your entrance when you push back. 
You're relieved that your emotional moment hadn't killed the mood altogether. That same hot, pulsating want from before tears through you and Steve takes a stuttering breath, the slightest moan in his throat. You feel his forehead press against your shoulder blade, as though he’s trying to compose himself. 
“You-“ He says, the word catching in his throat. As if unable to help himself, his hips grind forward, pushing his aching cock between your slick folds. You make pitiful, keening noises in response, a thread of pleasure run through the two of you. 
“You ready?” Steve asks shakily. He relents some of his closeness to grab the lube, giving another generous drizzle into his palm to slather over himself. 
“Please,” you whisper, pushing yourself back an inch. 
This time when Steve pushes himself in, the bliss stretches out, lasting more than just the first couple seconds. You make a high, breathy sigh of a noise and your head drops forward. 
Steve pauses, his breathing on the ragged side, and checks in. “Still feeling okay?” 
You nod feverishly, a whine building up in your throat that threatens to escape if Steve doesn’t move. Or maybe if he does move. You can’t tell — can’t tell anything other than how good it feels to have him inside you, hot and throbbing. 
“Yes,” you manage to gasp out. “Yeah, keeping going, please,” 
Steve grunts, complying in an instant, sinking his cock further in. Something inside you tightens up again— but it’s not nearly as noticeable as last time. Still, Steve recognises it and he slows for a moment. 
“I’m okay,” you assure breathily, face nearly pressed into the bed. You need him to keep moving. 
And he does; his cock sinks in another inch right as his hand creeps around your hip, searching for something blindly. You barely get one moment of confusion before his calloused fingers drag through the slick on your cunt and move up, pushing against your clit purposefully. 
You moan, loud and high. The friction of your clit is enough to make your thighs spread a little wider and your hips move back before you even realise what you’re doing, almost the rest of Steve’s cock sinking inside you. It feels good but something else pinches up inside you.
Steve moans, muffling the sound into your skin as he hides his face in your neck. 
You pant, suddenly dreading how you can feel the prick of pain on the fringes of your pleasure if Steve stretches you too far. "Don't- n-not too much," You warn gently, the words all breathy, still swathed in your pleasure. "I—uh— fuck, I don't think I can take it all."
You feel Steve's nod against the back of your neck, accompanied by a low hum in his throat.
“Y-yeah, okay,” He stammers. His hips roll forward and he follows your word, not quite pushing all the way in. "F-Fuck."
His breath is hot on your neck and the sudden urge for his kiss is nearly overwhelming. Even not facing him, the way Steve drapes himself around you, gentle even with how he grinds his hips into yours, feels intimate. Your cunt gives a soft squelch. 
“Oh fuck,” Steve gasps, stilling completely — the feeling of you wrapped around him is enough to nearly push him to the edge. He screws his eyes closed and whimpers, trying to keep himself together. 
“Y’okay?” You whisper breathily after a couple of moments, forehead pressed into the sheets. Your hips move just a little bit, shifting in a little circle so his cock slides out an inch, his fingertips grazing across your clit again. 
“I—ngh-“ Another whine slips out from his throat at your movement and Steve’s hand slips back, gripping your hip tightly. “Jesus Christ. Y-Yeah I’m good, just trying not to— fuck- end this too quickly.” 
He moves a bit, readjusting him arms to hold weight up a little easier.
“But you’re really wet and, like, really warm,” He grunts, almost accusingly. “And I really like you, so,” 
You can’t help it — a little laugh titters out of you, one of pure delight because Steve is sincere about his feelings. The laugh only serves to make Steve groan louder. 
“Shit,” He gasps, his forehead pressing into your shoulder. “You can’t laugh right now, it’s so not helping.” 
“Sorry,” you laugh again, a little more apologetic this time. 
Then, after a moment of gathered bravery, you say, “I don’t think I like this position. I can’t see your face.” 
Steve makes a pained noise from behind you, a breathy and sharp inhale, and suddenly his grip on your hip is twice as tight. 
“I’m gonna need you to stop talking. Please.” He grits out, voice sounding tight and barely restraining the moan in it. “I’m trying really hard here but you’re making this impossible.” 
Steve shifts on his elbow again, bicep bulging as he lowers himself to one side. His hips press into your backside, sinking himself further into your wet heat, as he settles his weight down onto the mattress. The springs make a noise in protest. 
You’re still closely intertwined, Steve pressed up against you, still throbbing within you, but now it’s more like… you’re spooning.
You settle down too, forcing out an exhale to let yourself melt back into Steve’s chest. 
He lets out a soft groan again but the new position means he can bury his face in your neck properly— and when you turn your head right, he seizes the chance for a kiss. 
He kisses sweet and slow to begin with, plush lips nipping at yours as if you’re not already in the throes of sex. Like he kisses you hello. His nose nudges against yours and he shimmies an arm beneath you on the bed. It curls itself around your stomach and Steve uses it to bring you even closer. 
“Is this better?” He whispers. He nudges his hips for a bit, giving a gentle thrust. Something warm flares at the pit of your belly, hungry for more. “Still okay?” 
You nod, a whimper escaping your throat as you steal another kiss from his lips. “Yes,” You whisper, lips scraping against his, hardly believing it. “Feels— feels good, baby,”
Steve finally gives in to his moan, a beautiful noise that sends heat rushing between your thighs. He begins to move more, building a gentle rhythm as he fucks into you, sensual and adoring all in one. 
Time drips away. You feel much warmer now, pressed up against Steve’s chest, with his kisses all around. One of his hands stays dutifully between your legs, pushing around your bundle of nerves and pulling weak, soft noises from you. The other, you cling to, your fingers twisted as best they can with his.
Pleasure wraps the pair of you up til a soft glow of sex and love settles over the both of you. Steve murmurs doting words, an endless stream of encouragement pouring from his mouth as he nibbles at the shell of your ear. 
Still feelin’ good? Yeah, you are. Just listen to you- sounding so pretty wrapped around my cock. 
Fuck, your pussy makes the cutest noises. So wet f’me, isn’t she? God, you drive me crazy. 
You’re taking me so well, yeah? Being so fuckin’ good f’me- letting me know how you feel. M’so lucky - fuckin’ love— love this with you.
You don’t even realise when every gasp out your mouth has turned into a moan, each breath building and mounting. Your chest heaves and Steve’s motions go from lazy to focused. His hips slow a little but his fingers over your clit speed up, dancing across the nerves perfectly. 
You clutch desperately at the arm he has wrapped around your waist, your head thrown back to rest on his shoulders with your eyes screwed shut. Your hole clenches wildly as you hurtle towards your orgasm— and go right over the edge without warning. 
You make this cute little gasping noise, high pitched and wrapped in a pretty sigh, and Steve doesn't think he's ever heard something so sensual, so pretty. His blood seems to thrum in response, pleasure turning the coil in his gut tighter and tighter.
Euphoria melts into your body and you sag into it with a drawn out soft moan, turning your face to search for Steve’s in an instant. One of your hands darts up, sloppily reaching for the back of his neck, suddenly starved of a kiss. 
You find his lips right as Steve finds his peak— his handsome face screwing up as he all but whines into your mouth. You capture it, some heavy, open mouthed kiss of desperation shared between you. 
Pleasure flows over you, hot and heavy, fuelled by the frantic grinds of Steve’s hips into yours as he whimpers into your mouth. Even though some part of you feels vulgar, another, louder, part of you feels like you've taken part in something sacred. Steve's fierce kiss certain feels akin to something holy.  
After a minute, the euphoria fades. You settle back into your body, feeling the scratch of the cotton sheets beneath you, the sweat of Steve’s chest on your back, the slightly discomfort in between your thighs. 
Steve can feel it, the moment you tense back up, some unwelcome twinge of pain in your gut. He’s shuffling back and pulling out before you even have to ask.
Without his chest to lean on, you roll backward naturally and flop onto your back, still panting lightly. Steve shifts up to hover above you. 
“You good?” He asks, that same breathlessness in his voice. He smiles handsomely, his hair a little limper than usual, flopping over his forehead. He looks gorgeous. “You did great.” 
That almost makes you laugh, the sincere praise so like one might give a child, but Steve seals it with a kiss to your forehead. Your laugh turns into a sheepish but giddy grin. “I’m gonna take the condom off, I’ll be right back.” 
He disappears from your line of sight for a minute or two and you can hear him rustling around in his room.
Without any distractions, you suddenly remember the film you’d put on in the beginning, still running at the end of the bed— the final credits are just starting to roll. The streetlights glow a little brighter in the evening dark through the curtains. 
You huff out a breath and your smile comes without even trying. In fact, if Steve hadn’t come back when he did, you’re sure you would’ve started giggle to yourself madly, cocooned in your own contentedness. That same awed, gleeful smile just like the first time round.
“You look like a dope, smiling like that, you know that?”
Steve’s wearing a pair of boxers, green plaid, and he’s got a fresh, warm wash-cloth in his hands. 
"I didn't know that," You muse playfully.
“Hey,” He changes tone to less playful, kneeling on the bed. You notice the change of clothes in his other hand when he throws them onto the duvet beside him. “M’just gonna clean you up a bit, that okay?” 
You’re sure there’s a pinch of embarrassment in you somewhere but, still blissed from your orgasm, you can’t manage to find it. Steve is quick and precise, the warm cloth wiping up any excess sticky fluids. He kisses the inside of your knee when he’s done. 
“All done,” He murmurs, climbing back off the bed in the direction of the bathroom, switching off the television as he does. He gestures to the clothes at the foot of the bed as he walks. “Y’can wear these if you want.” 
Finally feeling less flattened, you shift up to lean on your elbows. He’s grabbed you a pair of his boxers, the matching blue pair to his green, and one of his old Hawkins swim-team shirts. You slip into both quickly, your heart going a bit fuzzy with how soft the shirt is. 
Then you crawl beneath the covers, blood still rushing far faster than usual and a satisfied tiredness beginning to sink into your body. You can't help but thinking it all over — Steve's mouth between your legs, the feel of him sinking into you, the ecstasy of falling apart in his arms.
Part of you hadn't wanted to acknowledge that, well, it fucking worked this time and you enjoyed it. A niggly fear about jinxing it. Like if you pointed it out, it would incite the likelihood of your body turning on you once more. Robbing you of pleasure and experience in equal measure.
But when Steve comes bounding back to the bed, dragging back the covers to join you beneath them, you speak first.
"So, that didn't suck." You say excitedly, biting back your grin as Steve settles down beside you.
Together, you share one pillow as he scooches in closer. His hands reach out, searching for you amongst the sheets. When he finds your hips, he uses them to drag you closer to him, a halfhearted cuddle.
He lets out a puff of air against the pillow, a light snort. "I mean, hopefully it didn't just not suck."
If you had more energy, you might give him a playful shove because you know he knows what you mean. He'd seen the whole display of nervous emotions attached to sex all the way leading up to it.
Instead, heart feeling awfully gooey in your chest, you seize the opportunity to press in closer to him. Your head tucks beneath his chin, your lips barely grazing his throat.
"It was really good." You whisper, lashes fluttering as your eyes fight to stay open. Steve's warm on a good day. He's hot as a furnace with all the blood that's pumping around still. Perfect for snuggling up with.
"Yeah?" He sounds delightfully pleased, but not the smug kind. He sounds happy that you enjoyed it.
Then he whispers, "Told you it wasn't you."
His big palm sweeps up your back soothingly.
He's right. You've never been so glad to be on the receiving end of an I told you so before. Not that Steve would say that (at least, not right now).
Cuddling in closer, you wriggle one hand out from beneath the covers, not bothering to pull back or open your eyes when you murmur, "Just had sex high-five?"
You can feel Steve's laugh as it rumbles through his throat. It's an inside joke now, it seems.
"Hell yeah." He wiggles one hand free and slaps it against yours, probably a little harder than necessary. You laugh too, the sound a mixture of joy and sleep.
And yeah, okay, you might get it now. The whole big fuss around sex that everyone seems to make—but maybe you don't entirely agree with them.
There was something more in the... trust. In knowing that Steve wouldn't have cared which way it happened, as long as you were both enjoying it. In the intimacy shared, even before you had ever slept together. In the waiting. In the wanting—for both yourself and for Steve.
There's some grandeur discovery you've uncovered, you're sure of it, about the mystery and craze around sex. You just keep losing the string of thoughts to your slumber which drifts ever closer.
Oh well. You can always put it all together in the morning when you're not so tempted by sleep and bundled up in the arms of a boy who you love. For now, you drift off, fulfilled and content.
tags below! (seven months later...)
@roanniom @madaboutjoe @huang-the-geek @pootcullen @superskittles
@hales-who-loves-to-reid @spear-bearing-bi-witch @daisiesandinvasives @season4steve @thelauraborealis
@mmmunson @everythinghasafacee @katethetank @sorry--for-the-mess @matterdontminduntildone
@blowing-mikey @astoryreader @mulletmcghee @sugarcoatedstarkey @pullhisteeth
(these are just the ppl in the tags that mentioned wanting to be tagged! if i know u follow me and are a regular, i didn't bother tagging u cos i know you'll see it hehehe <3)
2K notes · View notes
sashiavi · 6 months ago
Note
no thoughts head empty just riding kaveh's face 😔😔😔 he'd definitely whimper and moan, acting like it's his last meal<3 thrusting his hips in the air to try and get some sort of relief, and ends up cumming untouched<3<3 oh the things I'd do to him
(I'm supposed to be productive rn)
(but kaveh<3<3<3)
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Kaveh x Reader - Riding Kaveh's Face Haikaveh x Reader Mentioned
Some Kaveh food ♡
I'm slowly working through a few requests and my own little projects hehe~ thank you for your patience and I hope you enjoy!
Ilysm Kai Ty for sneaking into my ask box hehe~ 💕
Warnings : 18+ Smut | afab reader | face sitting/riding | jealous Kaveh | spit | squirting | not beta read | ʷᶜ ¹.⁷ᵏ
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“Kaveh.. I don't want to hurt you..” Was the first thing that tumbled from your pretty lips, a kiss of nervousness lingering on the edge of your words. The words he should have seen coming, like an overused opening line to a spicy scene in one of his romance novels, written by some lazy author.. Maybe to you, your concerns were valid, more than reasonable, even, it’s not everyday that he has you on him like this. Any ounce of rationality quickly scatters from him when Kaveh meets your eyes. 
Nervous face looking down at him between your legs, eyes already a little bleary, lips tucked into a nervous pout. What a sight. Pretty tits drooping with gravity, framing your abdomen and tummy so well. One hand planted on his chest, the other being nervously nibbled at, tips of your fingers, lips biting into your nails. Kaveh huffs, a puff of a sigh tickling your skin. He had you kneeling on your knees, soft squishable thighs grazing against his ears, skin warm on his cheeks, sucking the metallic cool from the dangling jewelry he always adorned. His hands snake over the back of your thighs squeezing, groping, making an attempt to pull you down.
“K-Kaveh-!” Your squeals make his brain spark. The subtle fight and pull of your hips, his own hands trying to gently combat your squirms, all but makes him more eager- desperate even, for you, for your smell, your taste, to hear those soft whimpers he knows will spill from your lips. Archons, he wants to stuff his face full, dig his nose into your little clit, tongue your pussy with kisses and licks. 
“S’ okay- Can take it, honest..” He cranes his neck, chin tilting up, lips managing a soft, wet kiss against your mound, his breath hot against the sensitive skin. 
“We've never..” You trail off, looking anywhere but him. It was true, they hadn't ever done something like this, not together at least, but the memory- memories even, of your pretty pussy being tongue fucked by Alhaitham all those times before. Riding on his face, squealing, whimpering, crying. Tugging at the man's silky grey hair, pleading with him, all while knowing he wouldn't stop, grip too tight on your thighs and ass. Gods, Alhaitham, ever the dominant, putting both of you in your places, fucking you too stupid to even lay a finger on one another- one always twitching and out of commission for the rest of the night while he tortured the other with utmost pleasure.
Kaveh's cock flexes in his pants, tip rubbing against the taught material, nearly cracking out his own whimper. This was one of those rare chances, he had to get his own hands on you.
“You ride 'Haitham's face..” Kaveh can't help but whine, his lips visibly pout, head turning, pointed nose nuzzling into the soft fat of your thigh. He resists the urge to kiss, to sink his teeth in, nibble, and leave his own marks on your skin. Gods, he wants you to use him, ride his tongue and choke him with your pussy.
“H-He..” Your voice cracks, laced in something sinful, nervous from heat and embarrassment already taking over your body. The pause is tense, ringing in Kaveh's ears. "He can.. handle it, he's-" Kaveh cuts you off.
“Why can't I handle it? Wanna make you feel good..” He tries again, breathing warm on your core, aiming kisses on your inner thighs, the subtle swell of your tummy and that pretty patch of skin that leads down to your pussy. Just a little lick, a little kiss and he's sure you'd agree.
“He's just.. hnn.. Stronger than you- Ahn~!” Kaveh stops you again, forcing a startled moan from your lips with a harsh nip to your sensitive inner thigh, followed with a slicing glare from his sharp, crimson eyes. He had no right to be jealous- you were his as much as Ahaitham was, the same for the latter and yourself (and every other way, betrothed to each other equally) and yet, that achy feeling sears down his throat. Alhaitham with his high praise, thick biceps and stupid pretty face- Kaveh was pretty too! Stronger? Kaveh can show you stronger. Show you how he can make you feel good. Show you he can take on and bully your pretty pussy with his tongue. Show you he can take all of you. 
It starts with a fat lick of his tongue, a thick stripe up your cunt, right over that puffy untouched clit of yours. His chin tilted up to reach you, breath already hot and laboured, fanning over your core, he nearly growls when your hips make an attempt to snip away from him. He reels you in, grip on your hips a little firmer, landing wet hot smooches and kisses on all your most sensitive bits. That look on your face makes his cock twitch, embarrassed, guilty even, chin wobbling with the shaky breath you manage.
“Ahn~ K-Kaveh m’ sorry-” Apologies be damned, you'd started something, a fire in his gut to prove himself, to lap at you like a dog in heat. Gods, his neck already stung, ached with the strain of chasing you, chasing that pretty, drooly cunt- His fingers tighten, squishing the fat of your thighs under them. He feels your muscles tense and ripple, trying their best to keep you upright against his pull. Gods, he wanted you, wanted more, wanted you to sit, hump at his tongue, let him suckle and spit and make a mess.
“Ka-veh-” You start, heat and arousal dripping from your voice, winded and breathless. You squirm again, fingers threading through his hair, gently tugging him back down to the cushioned pillow below. “Haitham’ will be home soon, we- Ah~ Kavehhh!” You're cut off with a squeal. Knocked hard under your knees by a pair of hands, forced to drop down on Kaveh's face. His eyes roll, arms snaking around your ass and lower back, pinning you to himself with a rough hug. No escape now, you were all his. His gorgeous girl and her pretty drooly cunt.
Archons.. Fuck this was what he needed, what he craved. Squishy pussy smushed up on his lips, his pointed nose digging into your tender clit, tongue already fucking into the soft squeeze of your hole. He forces your hips to rock, guiding them with his hands, fingers squished into the fat of your ass and thighs. Gods, he wanted to cry, sob into your pussy and praise it over and over.
He can't help but crane his own hips, feeling the hot burning tension of his pants, the seam and fly digging into his weeping cock. He moans himself, tongue flicking and fluttering against your cunt, forcing his voice to stutter and staccato. You were no better off, soft mewls and whimpers tumbling from your lips when he mouths hot kisses and hard suckles on your clit, warm and wet and sticky. 
The fingers in his hair tighten, tugging on the strands oh so deliciously, coaxing him on and on. To keep tongue fucking your cunt, grinding his nose on your clit, squishing your soft thighs with his fingernails. The weight of you felt right on his face, grounding and stern, forcing him into submission - Even if unintentional.
“Kaveh~ KavehKaveh..” you repeat his name like a mantra, voice raising up and up in octave, choked up and wobbly. Your fingers squeeze again, hips wriggling, thighs twitching with a strain. Your breathing elevates, moans oh so breathy. He could tell you were close, little hole squeezing up on his tongue, thighs squishing his head, pretty voice squealing.
“Cummin- cumming, cummingcumminggg~” Archons you were so cute. Thighs flexing, squishing his face as you let go, selfishly riding his face, grinding your wet cunt all over his tongue. Your pussy pulses with your release, forcing another hearty moan out of Kaveh, kissing and lapping at you to guide you through. 
Gods he needed more.
Kaveh gives you no time to cool down, two long, pretty fingers plunging into your quivering hole, poking against the spongey little spot inside of you. You cry, telling him to slow down, “s’ too much!” And yet you keen into him, now gripping the headboard for dear life, moaning into your arms. Kaveh wraps his lips against your sensitive clit, suckling, lapping, spitting all over, taking the little bud in and abusing it. Kaveh rocks his own hips, finding a soft friction against the seam of his trousers, rubbing against his leaky cock head just enough. 
Gods, he was in heaven. His girl, his pretty girl and her cute cunt, humping his face and fucking back on his fingers, taking and taking all he had to give. Fuck it was wet, so gushy and sticky, soft, yummy squelches from your twitchy hole, wet smooches and sucks from his lips. His eyes roll under his eyelids, peeking up to see that face of yours, eyes bleary, lips parted with huffed breaths. He fucks his fingers in faster, harder, nearly biting into your clit with his teeth to see all those gorgeous reactions of yours.
“Ka.. Kaveh- can't.. gonna-! Gotta stop or- s’ too much! Anh~ ahh ah~!” You babble and cry, he nearly joins you, breathing laboured on your cunt, hips snapping up into nothing, following that brutal pace he had fucking into your cunt. That's it, that's it, thaaats it. Let him treat you, use him, use his face, fuck and hump on him, let him choke and squirm.
“Kaveh!” Is all the warning he gets from you before you gush - cumming hard with a choked sob, squirting in his mouth, down his chin, making a hot sticky mess all on his face. He humps the air, creaming hard in his pants, nearly untouched, hot ropes being wasted in his trousers. He blubbers, an attempt at praise being muffled away by the sweet rocking of your hips, riding out your orgasm on his tongue. Kaveh feels the tight squeeze of your cunt on his fingers, he gently presses into your cunt, slowly coaxing you down, soft and tender. He kisses your thighs tenderly, peppering his lips all around your lower half, palms rubbing over your bare skin.
You manage to lift yourself off of him a smidge, face beat red, looking anywhere but him. Kaveh can't help but stare, a goofy grin slowly edging itself on his face, eyes full, love hearts dancing in his vision. 
“Having fun without me?” A voice calls. Kaveh can just imagine the stern raise of an eyebrow, the annoyed arms crossed over a chest. You squeak, and Kaveh sighs blissfully. 
•··········🍑···········• ֪٘ ︶ ͝ ٘⏝𖹭⏝ ͝ ٘︶٘ ֪•···········🍑··········•
Hi there >v> you k n o w I have to throw Haitham in I can't not it's illegal - I know cause I wrote the law.
I hope you enjoyedddd~ I haven't written for Kaveh in a while </3 I missed my boy
Thank You For Reading ♡
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kiemiu · 10 days ago
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pda w/ boyfriend matt | ( gender neutral!reader ) fluff + soft hours. established relationship headcanons wc 540 (library) + (request)
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boyfriend!matt who buckles your seatbelt in for you even though you're 100% capable of doing it yourself. it's become second-nature for matt to ensure your safety and make sure you're comfy and secure before he drives off.
boyfriend!matt who rests his hand on the back of your neck while walking. gently guiding you through the store and sometimes lightly gripping it to pull you away from accidentally running into something or someone. "gotta be more careful, baby."
boyfriend!matt who gently removes the stray hairs that get caught on your lipgloss layered lips when it gets windy. "i wanna kiss you, but i can't if your hairs in the way." he'd gently whisper while tucking the hair behind your ear.
boyfriend!matt who wraps his scarf around your neck when it gets cold. you insisted that you wouldn't need one and matt let you go outside knowing you'd end up complaining about the weather anyway which is why he wore a thicker coat. he barely feels a difference of warmth when he unwraps the scarf from his neck and instead wraps it around yours. "i told you." he muttered with a small smile before pulling you close by the ends of his scarf and kissing your nose.
boyfriend!matt who gives you butterfly kisses when you depart. it's become a ritual now, whenever he drops you off or he's leaving to go back home, he'll scrunch up his nose and gently rub it against yours. "love you."
boyfriend!matt who holds your hand everywhere you go. in the beginning of your relationship, you created a secret code through holding hands. he'll give you a long squeeze to ask how you're doing. you'll reply with either one squeeze saying 'good' or two, if you wanted to go home. he'd respond back with a nod or his own three squeezes, meaning 'i love you.'
boyfriend!matt who likes to share drinks. whenever you're at a restaurant together and you order different drinks he always offers for you to take a sip of his in exchange for yours, even if it's just a dr.pepper and pepsi. he loves the innocence of an indirect kiss.
boyfriend!matt who softly kisses you when he thinks no one is looking. he gets shy whenever he feels like someone is watching him be affectionate with you, so when he's completely sure and feels like everyone is occupied he'll softly tilt your chin towards him and place a soft peck on your lips. quick and fleeting but still erupting butterflies in you,
boyfriend!matt who'll hover behind you during grocery shopping while you push the cart. both of his hands rest on the outside of yours while his chest lightly collides with your back, every other step or so. sometimes he'll plant his feet on the ground and stop the cart from moving just to annoy you.
boyfriend!matt who stands in front of you when you need to adjust your clothing. whenever he notices the look of discomfort on your face and you reach to pull your top up, he'll create a barrier in between you and any onlookers. sometimes adjusting the straps of your clothing or pulling down your short skirt/dress himself.
boyfriend!matt who absolutely adores you.
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' 𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 ' 🥡: @emely9274 @ginswife @madifilipowiczslvt @chrispleasure @chrisstvrns
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pucksandpower · 7 months ago
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Hands On
Lando Norris x Reader
Summary: celebrations after Lando’s first win get a bit hands on after he notices your obsession with a certain body part
Warnings: 18+ content
Based on this request
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The pounding bass rumbles through the Miami club as Lando pulls you close, his arm snaked around your waist. The dim lights cast his face in chiseled shadows as he lets out a whoop of joy.
“We did it!” He yells over the music, eyes bright with elation. “My first bloody win!”
You beam up at him, heart swelling with pride. “I knew you could do it.” Standing on your tiptoes, you plant a lingering kiss on his lips, tasting the tang of celebratory champagne.
Lando grins against your mouth before reluctantly pulling back. “Let’s get a drink to toast, yeah?”
Nodding vigorously, you allow him to lead you through the crowd to the bar. Lando orders some lurid cocktails that probably cost more than an average person’s weekly grocery budget. You don’t care — tonight is for indulging.
As he hands you a glass, his calloused fingers brush yours, sending an involuntary shiver down your spine. You quickly look away, hoping he didn’t notice. But of course he did.
“Alright there, love?” Lando asks with an amused quirk of his brow.
You force a laugh. “Just, uh … got a chill, that’s all.”
“Mmhmm.” He gives you a look that says he’s not buying it, but allows the subject to drop for now.
The two of you migrate to a plush VIP area, sinking into the soft leather couches. Lando slings an arm around your shoulders and you snuggle into his side, basking in his warmth and earthy scent.
God, you’re so proud of him.
“To us,” Lando murmurs, clinking his glass against yours. “And many more race wins to come.”
“I’ll drink to that.” You take a sip of the violently purple concoction. It tastes like alcoholic cough syrup but you don’t care.
As the alcohol works its magic, you feel yourself relaxing further into Lando’s embrace. Your eyes trace the strong line of his jaw, the delicious smattering of faint freckles, those gloriously long lashes ...
Your gaze catches on his free hand resting on the arm of the couch. You find yourself fixating on those slender fingers, the calluses from years of clutching the steering wheel ...
“Y/N?”
You start, blinking rapidly as Lando’s voice pulls you from your trance. “Huh? Sorry, what?”
“You’re staring again.” His lips quirk in that devilishly handsome half-smile.
Flushing hotly, you look anywhere but at him. Or more specifically, his hands. “No, I’m not.”
“Yes, you absolutely are.” Lando chuckles, low and teasing. “Go on then, what’s so fascinating?”
You squirm uncomfortably, feeling your face heat up even more. How to put this delicately ...
Apparently catching onto your distraction, Lando sits up straighter, settling his drink on the table with a muffled thunk. “Actually, don’t bother answering that. I think I know.”
Before you can protest, he reaches out to gently grasp your chin, tilting your face up to meet his gaze. His thumb strokes your flushed cheek as those clever eyes bore into yours, equal parts amused and intense.
“It’s my hands, isn’t it?” Lando murmurs, voice dropping to a low rumble that has your heart tripping in your chest. “You can’t stop staring at my hands.”
You open your mouth to deny it, but Lando’s penetrating stare has you frozen, the words sticking in your throat. Slowly, you give a tiny nod.
Lando hums in acknowledgement, the pad of his thumb still caressing your skin in a maddeningly distracting way. “They are rather nice hands, to be fair. Years of keeping a firm grip, you know?” He winks at you roguishly.
You make a small, strangled sound in the back of your throat. Goddamn him and his innuendos.
“Would you ...” Lando pauses for dramatic effect, gaze dropping to your parted lips briefly. “Like a closer look?”
Every rational neuron in your brain screams at you to say no, this is too far, you’re in public, oh god. But your desire-muddled mind doesn’t seem to be receiving those signals. Instead, you give another mute nod, feeling yourself leaning the slightest bit closer.
“Yeah?” Lando’s voice is barely more than a gravelly rumble now. “You want my hands on you, don’t you?”
You make a tiny whimpering sound of assent, mouth suddenly bone dry. Your eyes drop of their own accord to those wicked fingers, still cupping your jaw so tenderly.
Lando lets out a quiet chuckle, deliciously sinful. “How bad do you want it, baby?”
Squeezing your thighs together self-consciously, you manage a strangled, “S-So bad ...”
“Good girl.” The praise has you melting into a puddle right there on the couch.
Then, in one torturously slow movement, Lando lowers his hand from your face … trails his knuckles down the column of your neck … over the swell of your chest … all the way to the hem of your skimpy dress. He hooks a finger under the silky material, drawing it up your bare thigh with agonizing leisure.
You inhale a sharp breath at the sensation of his rough skin on your flushed flesh. Your eyelids flutter shut, every nerve ending thrumming with exquisite tension.
“Look at me.”
Your eyes snap back open at Lando’s commanding tone. He gazes back, brows raised in silent challenge. You force yourself to hold his searing gaze as his hand maps lazy circles on the sensitive skin of your inner thigh.
“Good girl,” he praises again, the words liquid sin. “Nice and relaxed for me.”
Despite the burning awareness of being in a public place, you feel yourself subconsciously parting your thighs ever-so-slightly, allowing those talented fingers higher access. Heat pools between your legs, your rapid pulse thrumming double-time.
“God, you’re so wet for me already,” Lando husks in approval. “I fucking love how worked up my hands get you.”
As those dexterous digits tease feather-light strokes over your quickly dampening underwear, you have to bite down hard on your bottom lip to stifle a whimper of shameless need. Every touch from him sets your body alight with feverish want.
“Shhh, inside voice, darling,” he chides quietly, humor dancing in those multicolored eyes. “Don’t want to cause a scene, do we?”
You rapidly shake your head, wholeheartedly agreeing. The last thing you need is for someone to wander over here and catch you being debauched by your boyfriend in a public place.
The thought should probably mortify you more than it does.
Lando gives you a crooked grin, like he can read your deliciously filthy thoughts. “Good girl,” he praises again, rewarding you with another teasing caress between your legs.
You suck in a shuddering breath, spine arching ever-so-slightly as Lando’s sinful fingers work their magic through the damp fabric. He knows every spot that drives you crazy, rubbing and stroking with perfect pressure until your inner muscles quiver with delirious need.
“You’re dripping for me, love,” he murmurs in a thick rumble. “Been thinking about my hands on you all night, haven’t you?”
No use denying it anymore — not with the embarrassingly loud squelches coming from between your shamelessly parted thighs. You give another frantic nod.
Lando makes a tutting sound. “Use your words.”
“Y-Yes,” you force out in a ragged whisper. Already, your breaths are coming faster, the molten coil in your core winding tighter and tighter with every deft stroke. “God, Lando, please ...”
“Since you asked so nicely ...” With those words, he slips one long finger under the sodden lace, finally making direct skin-to-skin contact with your aching heat.
You choke back a moan as he delves into your dripping folds, crooking his finger to find that spot that makes you see stars. Alternating between tight circles and firm strokes, Lando works that magic digit at an agonizingly slow pace. Your hips lift shamelessly into his touch, desperate for more friction.
“So greedy,” he chides with a dark chuckle. But he acquiesces, slipping in a second finger to join the first.
You have to clamp your lips shut to muffle the broken keen that tries to escape. The stretch and burn as he scissors you open is pure bliss. Your inner walls flutter greedily around the delicious intrusion.
“Like that, baby?” Lando’s hot breath ghosts your cheek as he leans in close. “You feel so fucking good stretched around my fingers.”
You nod frantically, nails digging into the buttery leather as he starts pumping those wicked digits in a steady rhythm. Each slick thrust has your whole body tensing and the knot in your core winding ever tighter.
“You take me so well,” he praises in a hoarse rasp. “Always so tight and perfect around my cock too. Can’t wait to be buried in that sweet little pussy later.”
A broken whine escapes you at the filthy promise. Your thighs are trembling now, pleasure spiking through your veins with every curl and drag of those talented fingers. You’re quickly spiraling higher, that euphoric edge looming tantalizingly close ...
Lando’s free hand drifts up to toy with the strap of your dress, tugging it down to bare one straining nipple to the heated air of the club. He leans in to lave his tongue over the tender peak and you practically convulse in his lap. Too much, too good, you’re going to combust-
“Come for me, sweetheart,” he rumbles against your damp skin. “Let go.”
The low, commanding growl is your undoing. With a strangled cry, you shatter apart on his fingers, back arching as the pleasure crashes over you in relentless waves. It whites out your vision, every nerve ending set alight in blinding ecstasy.
You come back to reality cradled in Lando’s arms, his lips brushing reverent kisses over your damp hairline. As the pulses gradually subside, you slump bonelessly against his chest, thoroughly spent.
“That’s my good girl,” Lando murmurs, rich voice laced with smug satisfaction. He slowly retracts his drenched fingers with one final curl that has your body giving a languid shudder.
A blissed-out hum is all the response you can muster right now. Your eyelids are heavy, head swimming in that delicious post-orgasmic haze. Lando chuckles softly, tightening his embrace as he drops another kiss to your brow.
“Don’t go falling asleep on me yet, yeah? The night’s still young, love. Got plenty more celebrations planned for you ...”
***
The door to the lavish hotel suite bursts open with a bang as Lando practically shoves you through the entrance. You stumble slightly on your high heels, drunk on anticipation and champagne fumes. Before you can regain your balance, his strong hands are on you, spinning you around to pin your back against the nearest wall.
“Been wanting to get my hands on you all night,” Lando growls against the sensitive skin just below your ear.
You shiver at the rumbling timbre of his voice, already growing hazy with rekindled desire. “Y-You already did at the club ...”
He rewards your cheek with a teasing graze of teeth. “And you were such a good girl, taking my fingers so nicely in front of everyone.” His hips grind against yours, allowing you to feel every rigid inch of his arousal. “But now I want more. Need to be inside you properly.”
A broken whimper escapes your parted lips as Lando’s hands roam greedily over your body. You arch shamelessly into his possessive grip, craving his burning touch everywhere at once.
“Arms up,” he commands in a gravelly murmur.
You immediately comply, and he wastes no time in dragging your skimpy dress up over your head, leaving you in just a flimsy scrap of lace. His heated gaze rakes over every newly exposed inch of bare skin with undisguised hunger.
“God, look at you ...” Lando exhales a harsh curse through gritted teeth. “I swear you get more gorgeous every bloody day.”
Face flushing beneath his scorching appraisal, you resist the urge to cover yourself with your arms. You know he prefers an unobstructed view.
“Turn around,” he orders in a voice that brokers no argument. “Hands on the wall.”
You spin obediently, biting back a needy whimper as your breasts brush the cool surface. The room suddenly feels several degrees warmer from the blazing anticipation alone.
There’s a pause where you can practically sense Lando’s eyes devouring the lines and curves of your body. You fight the urge to squirm beneath his piercing scrutiny. Then his callused hands are on your hips, squeezing with delicious possessiveness as he steps in to blanket your back with his solid heat.
“Already so wet for me,” Lando observes in a rough purr, dragging your lace underwear aside to reveal your slick folds. “Seem to recall you liking a taste of your own medicine at the club, hmm?”
The tip of his index finger glides through your arousal in one torturously slow pass, gathering the evidence of your desire onto his skin. Before you can so much as draw a shaky breath, he brings that glistening digit to hover just in front of your parted lips.
“Open up, love.”
You moan softly in anticipation, obeying without hesitation. The instant his finger slides into your mouth, your eyes flutter shut in wanton bliss. Your tongue swirls around the thick digit, hungrily lapping up every last trace of your own tangy essence.
“That’s it, nice and sloppy,” Lando praises in a low, heated rumble. “Show me how much you love the way you taste on my fingers.”
Spurred on by his heated words, you begin sucking in earnest, hollowing your cheeks with shameless enthusiasm. The slick sounds of your efforts fill the air, the wet noises doing absolutely nothing to quell the rising tide of arousal between your legs.
Behind you, Lando exhales a harsh curse. “Fuck … so bloody good at that. Should’ve known you’d look perfect with my fingers in your greedy little mouth.”
A fresh gush of arousal floods your center at his filthy words of approval. You can’t help the desperate whine that vibrates around his digit as you increase your pace, desperate to drive him as crazy as he’s driving you.
“Alright, enough teasing now.” There’s the sound of a zipper rasping, then suddenly Lando’s other hand is shoving yours away from the wall and around to grasp his newly freed erection.
You moan again, shocked but overwhelmingly aroused by his boldness. He pumps his length slow and purposeful, engulfing your smaller hand with his larger one to set a languid but firm pace.
“Good girl, that’s it ...” he rasps out harshly. “Wanna feel how hard you’ve got me, baby? Aching to be inside your perfect cunt ...”
At his filthy words, your core pulses with a fresh rush of molten want. You can feel the fat head of his shaft nudging demandingly against the crease of your thigh, leaving smears of pearly fluid on your heated skin.
Before you can fully process what’s happening, Lando spins you back around to face him. His eyes are blazing with dark, predatory hunger as he swiftly sheds the rest of your flimsy underwear. Then he’s hauling you up by the backs of your thighs, pinning you against the wall with his hips nestled firmly against your aching core.
“Tell me what you want,” he rumbles in a tone of deliciously wicked authority. The thick head of his erection drags through your slick folds in one maddening tease after another.
You whine high in your throat, scrabbling at his broad shoulders for purchase. “P-Please, Lando! Need you inside me ...”
“Need me to what?” He tilts his hips in a slow, torturous grind, spreading your arousal in a slick glaze. “Use your words, sweetheart.”
“Fuckmefuckmefuckme ...” The desperate mantra spills shamelessly from your lips as you try to pull him closer.
Lando rewards your begging with a wolfish grin. “As you wish.”
And with one slick thrust, he buries himself to the hilt, stretching and filling you in the most exquisite way. Twin groans echo through the suite — his a guttural growl, yours a high-pitched mewl of relief.
There’s an endless moment where you both simply still, savoring the friction of being so intimately joined. Lando’s forehead drops to your shoulder, the pair of you panting harshly against one another’s sweat-slicked skin.
Then he starts to move.
It starts with a slow roll of his hips, languid but purposeful strokes that drag his length through every last velvet inch before pulling nearly all the way out. You clutch desperately at the carved muscles of his back as he sets a relentless pace, each powerful thrust punching the air from your lungs.
“So tight ...” he grits out in a gravelly burr. “Taking me so deep, god, you feel incredible...”
You can only whimper helplessly in response, overwhelmed by the feeling. Every nerve is alight with shuddering bliss.
Soon Lando’s lazy rhythm devolves into harsh, pounding strokes, the harsh clap of flesh on flesh echoing like thunder. The solid wall at your back provides delicious traction as your boyfriend jackhammers up into your fluttering heat with rapidly mounting frenzy.
“Yes … yesyesyes!” The breathless affirmations tear from your lips in sync with each punishing slap of his hips.
“Can hear how much you love this, getting pounded against the wall like a desperate little thing,” Lando rumbles with dark approval. “Am I hitting all those perfect spots, baby? Making that greedy cunt squeeze me so damn tight?”
“So close, so close!” You chant in a high, thready whine. Your release is rapidly building, that glorious crest just out of reach.
As if sensing your desperation, Lando shifts his grip so one hand can snake between your bodies. His clever fingers instantly find the swollen bundle of nerves at your apex and start working tight, purposeful circles with just the right amount of pressure.
“Oh god, oh god, oh god ...” The frantic mantra punches from your lungs in time with his feral thrusts. You can feel yourself teetering right at that blissful precipice, every nerve pulled tourniquet-tight with impending release.
“That’s it, sweetheart,” Lando coaxes in a rough growl. “Let go for me. Wanna feel you come all over my cock ...”
His filthy words are your undoing. With a sobbing cry, your vision whites out in a supernova of shattering ecstasy. Pleasure rockets through your veins in pulsing waves, every muscle locked in the most beautiful torment. Vaguely, you feel Lando snarling curses against the fevered skin of your neck as your convulsing walls grip him in scorching velvet vice.
When your senses finally begin drifting back to you, Lando is peppering your sweat-dampened face with gentle kisses. He brushes the mussed hair from your brow tenderly, eyes brimming with naked adoration.
“So perfect for me,” he murmurs in hushed reverence. “Every bloody time. Fuck, I love watching you fall apart.”
You manage a weak, boneless smile at the affectionate praise, still riding the afterglow. You feel deliciously hollowed out, pleasantly achy in all the right places. Like every muscle has turned to warm honey.
After another moment, Lando carefully lowers your trembling legs until your wobbly knees find purchase on the plush carpeting. He frames your face with those gloriously rough hands, calluses catching on the flush of your cheeks.
“That good for you, love?” He asks with a hint of gentle teasing.
“Mhmm ...” You nod drowsily, leaning into his solid palm. “S’always good with you.”
Lando’s answering smile is bright enough to power every chandelier in the lavish suite.
***
“Baby, where are you? I’m home!”
Lando’s voice rings out as the door to your shared flat opens with a muffled snick. You pause your lounging on the couch, book falling forgotten to your lap as he steps inside, hauling a discreet black bag.
“In here!” You call out with a smile, already tingling with curiosity.
He appears in the doorway, flashing you that signature crooked grin that always has your insides melting. “There’s my gorgeous girl. I’ve got a surprise for you.”
You sit up a little straighter, intrigued. “Oh? Do tell.”
Rather than answer, Lando moves to the couch and deposits the bag between you two with a heavy thunk. Your brows shoot up quizzically.
“Well someone’s being mysterious,” you tease, giving the matte exterior an experimental prod. “What’s in this, Mister Norris?”
“Why don’t you open it and find out?” There’s a wicked glint in his eyes as he gestures towards the zipper pull.
Fighting a grin, you obligingly grasp the metal tab and pull, allowing the discreet covering to gape open. The first thing you register is a tangle of padded straps and buckles in sleek black leather. Then your eyes catch on the protruding shape nestled securely in the center … and you promptly choke on your own tongue.
It’s a hand. Or rather, a perfectly molded silicone model of one — every crease and callus captured in lifelike detail down to each delicate whorling fingerprint.
A whimper catches in your throat as realization slams into you with dizzying force. This hand … this hand with those long, talented fingers you’ve fantasized about more times than you can count … this hand is modeled after Lando’s.
“Oh my god ...” The words slip out in a strangled exhale. “Lando, is this ...”
His expression is carefully neutral, but the fiery glint in his eyes gives away his smug satisfaction. “You’re always going on about how much you love my hands. Figured you deserve to have the full experience whenever you want it, love.”
“I ...” Words temporarily fail you as you lift the shockingly realistic appendage free of its padded enclosure. The weight and articulation is uncanny, from the subtle flare of knuckles to the blunt tips of each digit. It’s almost unsettling how realistic it is.
You glance up to find Lando observing you with dark, hooded interest. His tongue darts out to wet his lips in a reflexive tell of arousal.
“What do you think?” He asks in a low, rough murmur. “Want to take it for a test drive?”
Heat lances straight to your core at the blatant suggestion. You reflexively squeeze the silicone digits in your grip, reveling in the slinky give and firm resistance. Already you can vividly imagine those fingers pumping into your dripping heat, stretching and stroking with that same delicious friction you’ve come to crave ...
“Y/N?” Lando’s voice pulls you from your lust-hazed daze. His eyes are blazing now, pupils blown wide. “Need you to use your words, sweetheart ...”
You make a small, needy sound as your thighs instinctively shift in subtle search of friction. “Yes … yes, I want to try it. Please ...”
That’s all the encouragement he seems to need. In the span of a heartbeat, Lando is divesting you of your thin cotton shorts and guiding your legs apart to settle between them on the couch. The hand rests heavy and solid in his palm as he holds it aloft, allowing you an unobstructed view.
You bite your lip against a whimper, already flushing with a heady cocktail of arousal and shameless anticipation. Lando’s lashes dip to half-mast as he brings the sculpted digits to his lips and lays a reverent kiss to each knuckle.
“I’m going to take such good care of you,” he rumbles in that low, raspy tone that never fails to have you melting. And then, with agonizing leisure, he trails the smooth pads down your chest … over the soft swell of your stomach … through the damp thatch of curls at your apex ...
A gasp punches from your lungs at the first glancing stroke against your folds. This may be an inanimate object, but its perfected shape coupled with Lando’s practiced touch feels so exquisitely familiar. Like the real thing is finally breaching that aching place inside you ...
“Bloody hell, you’re already dripping,” Lando observes in a rough growl. The flexed digits slide through your arousal in one slick pass, gathering your essence onto the sleek silicone. “Is this what you were thinking about, love? Having my fingers buried knuckle-deep in that greedy little cunt?”
You can only whimper and nod frantically as he draws tantalizingly close again. That unhurried brush of solid firmness against your most sensitive flesh already has your inner muscles fluttering desperately.
“Tell me what you want,” Lando rumbles in a tone of smoldering command. Those clever fingers circle your aching entrance, spreading your slick arousal in a torturous tease.
“T-The hand,” you stammer out in a pitchy whine. “Lando, please ... I need it i-inside me ...”
A wolfish grin curves his lips as he rewards your obedience with a searing kiss. When he finally pulls back, his eyes are blazing with liquid smoke.
“As you wish.”
Then Lando is tipping the toy at just the right angle to catch on your swollen entrance. With one smooth, purposeful thrust, he sheaths every last inch to the knuckle root inside your clenching heat.
The fullness is glorious, that solid silicone bulk stretching you wide in the most delicious way. Every delicate ridge and contour drags against your velvet walls with maddening friction with the slightest movement.
“Fuck ...” Lando practically snarls the curse through gritted teeth as he begins pumping the toy in a slow, purposeful rhythm. “So goddamn hot seeing you grip it like this, baby … squeezing so perfectly tight.”
You can only whimper helplessly in response, overwhelmed by the intensity of sensation. With each careful stroke, Lando angles the silicone fingers to create a firm nudge against that spongy cluster of nerves. Jolts of electricity hoot up your spine until you’re shuddering and whimpering.
“There you are ...” Lando’s voice is a rumbling growl of smug satisfaction as he locates that magic spot. “Squirming like a desperate little thing on my hand.”
To punctuate his words, he rotates his wrist with a purposeful flex of hard knuckles against your tender front wall. The exquisite pressure has your hips jerking upward in a helpless spasm, eyes flying open to lock gazes with your wickedly grinning boyfriend.
“Like that, do you?” He husks, lips brushing your cheek. “Never seen you make noises like this before. So hungry for my fingers buried deep...”
As if to emphasize the slick sounds already filling the air, Lando picks up the tempo of his thrusts in rapid, punishing strokes. The squelches are more erotic than anything you’ve ever heard as he rails you open on that delightfully thick silicone.
“Oh god, oh g-god ...” The desperate mantra spills shamelessly from your lips as white sparks begin bursting across your vision.
“Let it happen, baby,” he coaxes. “Need to see those gorgeous walls fluttering when you come ...”
With a startled cry, your spine bows off the cushions as your long-awaited climax finally detonates. Searing pleasure lances through every nerve ending in tsunami waves. You’re vaguely aware of choking out Lando’s name over and over in a breathless keen, your inner muscles flexing uselessly around the thick silicone toy.
When you finally drift back down, it’s to the feeling of damp hair being brushed from your brow. You blink blearily to find Lando gazing down at you with naked awe and unguarded adoration.
“You’re a vision like this,” he murmurs reverently. The hand-shaped toy is finally, carefully extracted with a slick sucking sound that has you flushing. “So beautifully ruined all because of my hand ...”
In a tender gesture, Lando cradles the back of your skull and brings the glistening silicone digits to your parted lips. The clean, musky tang of your own arousal coats every contour.
“Clean it up, love,” he commands. “Know how much you love the taste ...”
You moan faintly at the filthy demand, feeling a fresh slick of heat pooling between your legs. But there’s no way you can deny him this or yourself the heady intimacy of such an act. So with hooded lashes, you obediently part your lips and take those thick fingers onto your awaiting tongue.
Lando’s low groan of approval vibrates through your very bones as you seal your lips in a tight ‘O’ and suck with wanton fervor. The harsh breaths punching from his lungs spur you on, swirling your tongue over every crease and imprint hungrily.
“So fuckiny gorgeous,” he grits out in a tone of strained reverence. “You have no idea the effect you have on me, do you?”
As if to emphasize his words, Lando shifts position — and you suddenly become aware of the painfully rigid line of his erection pressing against your hip. With a needy whine, you instinctively grind up against that hot, insistent length through the thin barrier of his athletic shorts.
Your boyfriend’s lashes flutter as he bites back a growl. “Easy there, minx. You’re going to get me inside you soon enough.” He nips sharply at the bolt of your jaw, silicone fingers still working your slack mouth in shallow thrusts. “But first I want to watch you come apart on the real thing one more time ...”
A full-bodied shudder races through you at the dark promise underlining his words. With a pitchy sound of submission, you allow your heavy eyelids to slip shut and your jaw to unhinge obediently around the thoroughly used toy.
Every expert curl and flick of those clever digits is centered on the singular goal of dismantling you again. You’re powerless to resist, simply allowing the heady l sensations to crest higher and higher. Lando’s hoarse rumbles of encouragement cradle you, pushing you higher until you finally shatter into sublime oblivion once more.
And fuck, you love it when Lando’s hands on.
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